My Father's Archives #25

There are two things - among many others - that my father taught me and that are closely related to his photography: the first - and more obvious - is the love for photography. I wouldn't be taking pictures today if he hadn't allowed a five-year-old to peep through his beloved Voigtlaender more than forty years ago. He taught me all the basics about light, exposure, depth of field and framing. The second - and more important - thing he taught me was the sanctity of all live. Among all the hundreds of slides that I have scanned there is not one picture in which his objects are represented in a disrespectful way. No matter how miserable the conditions were these people lived in, my Dad always tried to show how delicate, how beautiful every life is. Misery in itself was never his subject. Even when he photographed death, his pictures show kindness and gentleness. This is the great challenge I inherited from him. I hope that, one day, I will be able to reach the same level of awe for life.
This picture was taken in São Félix do Xingú, in the decade of 1980, the place where I'll meet my Dad on Friday evening or Saturday morning. Things look very different now, I'm told.

A PERSONAL NOTE OF GRATITUDE: Reaching the first 100 blips seemed to take an eternity. The second 100 blips flew by so fast that, when I reached them, I thought So what?  But then I experienced such an overwhelming outpour of love and generosity, of unmerited recognition, that I came to the following conclusion: BLIPFOTO IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL COMMUNITY OF STRANGERS. I have never met any blipper personally, yet friendships were made that I will hold dear forever. Thank you all for being part of this wonderful experience. 
Please forgive me for not answering to all you comments on yesterday's blip. There were simply too many.