Kyaiktyio & Golden Rock

Golden Rock,  Kyaiktiyo

My Burmese friend Judith and her neice Pei Pei and myself decided we needed to see this Golden Rock place for ourselves, so we got up late 07.00 and took a taxi to the Aung Mingalar bus station. The taxi cost 4000 kyats but that was after lots of forceful negotiating by the ever assertive Judith. On arrival at Aung Mingalara bus terminal as always we were met by two young boys running alongside the car, this was to guide us to their bus company and so they get a commission. The bus to Kinpun was 5000 kyats (5$) for me, and 3000 kyats for my friends. It's always cheaper for locals no matter what it's for.

Sunset on Goden Rock

The bus was not the best by todays standards, but a huge improvement on pre 2011 buses.  God be with the days of knees up to your chin, backside dead on a wooden bench, surrounded by boxes, bananas, and all other sundry in a windowless bus so that the mosquitoes could have a field day. That is one part of this huge change in Burma I won't miss.

Well the bus journey took about 4 hours with one short break en route to pee and buy snacks.

When we alighted the bus in the small square of Kinpun we were greeted by the usual host of guesthouse agents. At first we headed with the Lonely Planet recommendation with a young Swiss couple, but then a fast talking agent from the Sea Sar guesthouse arrived and made us an offer we couldn't refuse...15$ for the 3 of us in one room (no breakfast). Judith Pei Pei and I were happy happy! And so were the Swiss! The room had air con, it was clean and the tropical shrubs and scented trees around the bungalow were the cherry. 

We dropped the bags and headed straight to the pick up station where we were so tightly crammed that it must have looked like a Mexican wave every time we took a bend which was every ten seconds or so. 

The rain came down with a vengeance so we stopped in a shelter until t eased off. It started again when we were walking up from the pick-up drop off point but it was warm and we dried off quickly.

Crows Beak

So having spent several months in Burma on previous visits I'd heard lots about the Golden Rock, perhaps too much. I was almost disappointed as t wasn't as dramatic as I'd come to believe. I got over it and put my camera to my eye and took about 100 images. I also walked down the other side to where the crows beak is. 

This is a holy place so I'm told that looks like the beak of a crow, formed by two rocks. Locals were throwing coins up into the beak so that they'd come back as Robert Redford or Gina Lollobrigida.

On the way down I met two young men with a dead python snake which they were very proud of. This was for their medicine man. Mr medicine man shouted no photo, and gestured handcuffs suggesting an arrest if the photos were seen. I took two anyway.

The highlight (for me) was going back down just after sunset. Some local boys were singing, the stars were out and everyone was in a jovial good mood and it made for a special trip back down the hill. I've seen the Golden Rock, and I guess you've got to see it once even if you're not a buddhist.

Next stop  Mawlamyine (Moulmein) Burma's 4th largest city.

Burma boats

Well all good things end, and they also begin again anew. And that will keep me going until I get back "home" to Burma next year. This time I stayed South, I stayed longer than usual and most in Yangon thanks to my dear friends cooking too many fine dinners. My girlfriend saw me on Skype today and said I need a diet. She's right! I've discovered so much more good food this time. My love of boats and being on the water (especially in Burma) was the catalyst for heading to the shipping office to find a boat to shack up on for 24 hours. I was disappointed to learn that the boat to Pathein has been shelved since last August, but I know I can sleep on anything going anywhere and that's what my friend Judith explained to the baffled shipping clerk. He eventually allowed me to buy a ticket to Myaungmya which is not mentioned in any guide books so that was a plus.

I wanted to do the same thing...chillin.

 The boat was packed to the hilt. Boxes and engines of all kinds everywhere, with us moveable cargoes laying nervously below them. They did fall without injury.  Leaving Yangon, passing the sleeping retired ships in the mist and watching the rapidly descending sun make a silhouette of the decaying and new skyline of Yangon.

I settled into my spot on deck with my Chinese carpet laid out, only half mind! No space. Not being Burmese I had to turn more often than a sausage being barbecued and my hips are still feeling it.
This boat trip takes 24/5 hours, it's 2 captains are young agile men who steer with their feet. They were still in great form after 12 hours on the wheel thanks to the betel nut and leaf concoction. The sunrise once I got over myself was peacefully stunning with the usual sunrise pastels diffused with mist.

Collecting hay for goats

Being the only lupu (white man) I received glances and smiles constantly as well as fruit and offers of homemade food which was always delicious. Which reminds me the food on this boat was Top! Especially the huge prawns straight from the river. One of the nicest meals I've ever eaten. Really! And all for less than a €!
The passing landscape and villages are what I enjoy. Everyone has a boat out of necessity. It felt like Venice at times. The river snaked around, and the boat slowed often to a snails pace. The huge sky with it's dramatic cumulus clouds reaching up into the stratosphere almost made for some great images.
The boat made 3 stops to drop off people and cargo, and I was happy to get off in the end. The town was lively, and the bustle to offer me a taxi to Pathein was as always lively. I'm so happy to have learned a few phrases in Burmese to stop them in their tracks. The first hotel didn't take foreigners, so I took a bike to a motel outside town. It was overpriced and the bed no softer than the deck of the boat, but I was tired and gave up haggling quicker than normal.
I spent two days here and enjoyed them. I took a bike into the rice fields and met some great kids and families. Never found the famous crocodiles or the perfumed rice. Got the rice on the market afterwards.

As they don't get many tourists I got lots of attention. Parents would hit their children to let them know a foreigner was coming. Often they would shout out "hello" and I'd reply with "mingalabah" and that would get a great laugh.
This boat trip is not for the faint hearted but it's well worth the trouble. Do bring a guide to help you locate the right boat, and the right person to pay. It's a busy and stressful time for them so don't get in the way.

 Travel respectfully.
Teach them english if you have time.

Atlanta and it's engines

Jet lagged in Georgia

Laying awake at irregular jet lag hours in my room by the road, The junction of

Park and Monroe never sleeps. It's 3am then it's 4.45am the rumble of  collosoll V8's as they accelerate away from the lights, or speed up as they turn green on approach makes the new insulation in the walls seems redundant.  Someone's always going somewhere on this road.

My thoughts wander back to my youth when I loved cars. My father too. He had old Rovers the V8 types with sunroofs and a 45rpm record player in one. I enjoyed missing the bus, even though the punishment could be severe the ride and arrival to school in this majestic car was worth it. I used to know cars by the sound of their engines, and even the closing of their doors. I used to test myself by closing my eyes and sitting by the side of the road and listening. I couldn't tell the sound of a cruising car, it would have to accelerate for me know and recognise the orchestra of valves, pistons and combustion and the music it made. I was right 9 times out of ten.

It's a pity they never made it a school test. It would have been the one test that I passed.

Now forty years later as I walk around Atlanta these giants of the road still have me turning my head. I have no idea now what kind of cars they are now. My head is full of other more or less important stuff but I still stop and look.

If it's a car from the 60's or 70's I will stop and talk to myself and the car, get out my camera and photograph every inch of it. Sometimes owners will arrive with that concerned look on their face, and I have to go into my explanation of how wonderful I think their car is. This inevitably brings on stories of how they found the car, where it's been, it's name and sex, their own life stories and so on.

And I really do enjoy it.  The last car was a 69 Chevelle a faded cream straight lined, to many a forgettable type of car, to Mike her owner (a mechanic in Hapeville) she is special. He knows every scratch and creek on this old lady. He was in the military, and when he heard my accent he told me about his Irish military chaplain who helped get him through the scary and crazy days of Vietnam.

He has to go back to work, I thank him for his stories and his wonderful car and continue to take photos. After about 30 minutes he comes back out of his workshop and asks "what the f..k you still doin takin photos". It calls for a deeper explanation to allay his fears. Yes I still love cars and their stories, and I will always stop and photograph them no matter how infantile I can feel. I remind myself of my mantra, "I'm a photographer this is what I do do".  

In the moment and around the world

Clara-Louna is my youngest child, and proof that it's never too late to start again. She's now four and a half, and I'm fifty-two going on eighteen. That's men for ya!

 

Clara-Louna

Amalfi, Italy

What a wonderfully romantic wedding this was!
 In a setting like no other!

Wedding on Amalfi coast

Photography has brought me to places in the world and in my heart I never thought existed. Photography has opened my eyes, mind and heart to another way of being and seeing. The long days of running and racing are over, and I'm not talking about "track & field events" either!

Sailing to Aulderney

 It's been an education, thankfully a slow one too. It reminds me of what my uncle said to his wife when she accused him of slowly becoming an alcoholic, he said 'I don't want to rush it'!

Burmese Delta flood victim

View from U Bein bridge, Mandalay

 Photography is a way of life, a way of seeing and gets me away from the mundane. I get bored quickly and even the good things in life can become mundane very quickly, and that is when I up and leave with my camera. I'm a wanderer by default. I was raised by wanderers, well my father anyway. I guess my mother was a trailing spouse.

Camille with a pearl earring

An actress I met in Paris

Clara-Louna jumping for joy

Live in the moment

And enjoy it!
I do my best, and most of the time thanks to Clara I'm in the moment. She is always in the moment. The moment I say no to a bon bon (sweets), or a gateau she gives me hell, but five minutes later she's singing. That's the way to be!

Always joyful on a swing

No Fear!

There's enough fear going around. I tell Clara to take a risk, not take care!

Any excuse and she'll jump

It was a great craic!

Donegal people are just super sympa as a French man might say. Very good people and very helpful as I discovered during my photography workshop there. They made it special!

Workshop in Co Donegal

Manhattan from Long Island city

A fine young actor Pierre-Henry

The pier at St Vaast la Houge

In the moment

DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AND LOVE WHAT YOU DO!

Wet, cold & happy

I stayed for hours to see what I might see

Paris to Dublin

I've been watching the weather forecast for a week now, and I know a week is a long time in both Irish weather and politics. So lets not talk about politics. Same sex marriage, austerity measures and financial crisis are headlines I'm long tired of.  Lighter here : http://www.kevinhayden.book.fr
I've been weather watching lately because it's been so damn cold and miserable in Paris and Ireland and I have a landscape photography workshop to teach from April 1st to the 7th in Co. Donegal, and as the Aer Lingus aircraft made it's final approach to runway 10/28 the amount of white covering the land was  quite shocking. I didn't bring skis, and the last time I skied I almost broke my ass bone so that's a non runner.
http://www.aerlingus.com http://www.aerlingus.com/en-US/home/index.jsp
With some of my clients coming from sunny California my first though was shit, how am I going to do this? They'll freeze to death!
Well as I lay on my king size bed in the very comfortable Radisson Blu watching the RTE news http://www.rte.ie wishing to hell the weather was the first item up, but no it never is. Anyway contrary to the news the weather was a more heartening subject. It's going to get warmer...+1°
The thought of driving from Dublin to the northern part of Co. Donegal in a blizzard is not my idea of fun.
http://www.kevinhayden.book.fr
I must say before I forget, and I know I repeat myself but Co. Donegal has to be the most spiritually enriching place after Burma I know of. It's the mountains I guess?
http://www.siskiyous.edu/shasta/fol/nat/henn.htm Native Americans found the mountains to be of great religious symbolism, and they had a special relationship with mountains.
So perhaps there's a breed of native American Indian in me?
Bottom line is, it's all good. I made it from Paris with 30kg of gear without breaking my back. Only waited one hour for my dinner to be served, but it was worth the wait. I didn't say that at the time. Time does heal. It's 08.20 Irish time and my favourite meal of the day awaits me...full Irish breakfast.
I'll continue this when I get on the road, typing and driving is not yet outlawed.


http://www.siskiyous.edu/shasta/fol/nat/henn.htm

I've heard it said that, "we don't know what we don't know". It seems I know more than I think I know about photography, or at least that's what some folks tell me. I guess after 34 years I've picked up a bit about the subject, the trouble is the camera manufacturers, influential photographers and the industry in general keep moving the goal posts. More pixels, new styles and fashions and now we have to be videographers since they've gone and planted such high quality recording capabilities in our DSLRs.


I know self improvement and learning is great, but I'd rather be in a field, on a mountain, next to the sea, even being on a plane to my next destination is preferable to sitting here in the darkroom imprisoned by four walls.
So if anyone out there knows an easier softer way of learning how to edit video and then match it with photos in a slideshow please please email me. kevinhayden62@hotmail.com
To view what I do http://www.kevinhayden.book.fr

Now I've had my rant and made my plea for help I'll get back to the subject of teaching and learning.
I've been in Paris for nine years now, and since I arrived and got dumped (another story), I've devoted myself to my preferred pastime which has now become my full time profession...photography.
It has not changed for me, I still love it as a pastime, a therapy and a profession. When I am behind a camera I am both bullet proof and invisible, cocooned in my zone and searching for the zones of interest around me is where I feel best.
It's these feelings of connection with my environment that I now believe make it essential to make a great photograph. When I teach I often say the photographer must be in communion with his subject, he must have a connection with it...even love it. Be mindful and present.

 http://www.kevinhayden.book.fr

I am lucky to still have these feelings, even more than ever in fact I feel close to nature and people. And it's the great outdoors and the people in it that I enjoy most to photograph. It's these emotions that I share in my teaching and in my photography, and the students always respond positively. The evidence is almost instant in the images they produce. My next workshop is in Ireland from April 1st to the 7th. Later in the year I'm planning a workshop in Burma. After almost 3 months in Burma I've made good friends and interesting contacts who will guide us into the enchanted land of the Burmese. You may find this link useful http://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/how-to-help-burma

Paris, Vermeer & Atlanta

Those of you who follow my all too infrequent blogs know I'm a gypsy at heart and I travel on a whim, and often on a wing and a prayer. BTW prayers are good and often work! So I recommend trying it. So I don't like long stories so I'll cut to the chase eventually. I'm Irish and talking to myself in my self-imposed digital darkroom in the wee small hours is par for the course. Funny, Ballybunion golf course comes to mind. It's in Co Kerry : http://www.ballybuniongolfclub.ie and well worth a visit. In fact the entire West coast of Ireland is worth a visit!
Anyway forget I wrote that, this blog is about photography. Not any old photography! My photography! I'm still in Paris (just for today), next week I'm back to Ireland for my photo workshop in Co Donegal. If you don't know Co Donegal you're really missing out. It's a well kept secret, and one I'm trying to change cos everyone deserves to see it at least once in a lifetime.

Now back to me goodself. I'm working on a personal project, a rather simple one, but one I'm really enjoying. It started with my admiration of Vermeer's "Girl with the pearl earring", it's a painting that has enchanted (ie charmed, delighted, captivated) me for years and one day near Place St Michel here in Paris I spotted "the" young girl. I turned on my heels, stopped the girl and explained my new idea, she agreed to pose for me and the rest is soon to be history.

Since that fateful day I've photographed about thirty ladies ranging in age from 10 to 80 years of age. I love them all!

They have all been willing volunteers, and it is this generosity of time, privacy and openness that has made this project so dear to my heart. It really has helped to restore my faith in humanity, and has inspired me to carry on when sometimes I think I'm just mad. You do have to be mad, and yes it certainly does help!
So now this year I have to have it all done in preparation for the arrival of Vermeer's masterpiece in Atlanta, GA. If all things are equal and the Gods agree I will exhibit my "girls" at the same time as Vermeer's "girl" next September in a gallery near the High museum. http://www.high.org




So if you're looking for a theme/project just head to your local art museum and get some inspiration. Or visit me here in Paris and I'll teach/guide you.

Looking for Inspiration

Well Christmas came and didn't leave my intestines intact. That's what happens when you go back to a country that eats a side of pork for breakfast! The black & white pudding, the beans, sausages and rashers are still with me it feels like, and alka seltzer doesn't work. Well not in this case. I didn't sit down to write about my stomach problems, I sat down to write about the lack of inspiration I'm feeling on this grey Paris day. But maybe it's connected...gas, bloating and lack of inspiration may well be connected? Well it has gotten me this far which is no all bad. I'm just going to write cos it's better than farting and procrastination!
I've got several projects to start, or restart and to finish and to edit. But I end up of that great thief of time and energy Facebook. So I'm trying to focus and finish! I must mention a book that someone popped in the post and sent to me out of the blue, but it's like a bolt of lightening to my lazy procrastinating side. It's called "theWar of Art" by Steven Pressfield and I take the quote from the cover made by Esquire "A vital gem...a kick in the ass." And it's true! That's also why I'm sitting writing rubbish...he says just do it, write! So it's just the kick in the ass I needed today!
http://www.kevinhayden.book.fr
So now I'm almost finished this small introspective rant that I hope will continue to motivate me to write something coherent, and to focus and finish all these projects and ideas flying around my spahgetti  junction head. Now I'm already tempted to see what rubbish has been posted on Facebook. I'm sick I need help!
Maybe you too need help? Go and buy the book!
Kevin Hayden is a photographer, tour guide, great cook, (great father hmm?) Don't tell my kids I said that!

Ok I've done a blog of rubbish today, but it's a blog! Don't complain! It's better than nothing!