War+Peace: A Photographer's Journey

"Sometimes, between war and peace, a brief poetic moment allows one to escape into freedom"
- Reza


The other day, I added a new book to my ever-expanding photography-book collection. I'm a closet photography junky and I think that largely stems from my obsession with expression. There is something so powerful about capturing a moment in time and immortally sharing it with the world. It's ironic for someone like me to say this, but a picture really can express a thousand words, emotions, thoughts and moments...
The book I got my hands on instantly became a favourite. I have found myself going back night after night and flipping through the photo's, pausing on some of the ones that have touched me deeper than the others. This particular book has also made me an admirer of Reza and his work. Reza, a world-renowned photojournalist, is as much a documentarian and witness to the beauty and monstrosities of the world , as he is an activist and humanitarian. He has dedicated his efforts and talents to giving a voice to the silenced and has equipped scores of people around the world with the tools and courage to make a change in their own lives. Looking at Reza's photos is like being transported to a time and place otherwise ignored and invisible to this side of the world. Not only is he an outstanding photographer, he has a way with his words that could put any modern journalist to shame. I am forever a fan of his work and I can only hope to one day use my own medium to transform the world around me the way he has, to be the change I wish to see
So, I've decided to share a few of the photo's and arousing captions from his work entitled "War+Peace: A Photographer's Journey"

(Afghanistan, 1985) "Their laughter, their warmth, and their spontaneous friendliness erased all of the discouragement and fatigue I'd felt. It reminded me of a beautiful truth I had read... 'Travelling- it offers you a hundred roads to adventure, and gives your heart wings!'"

(Iran, Kurdistan-1980) "A boy named Peyman told me...'I do take refuge in silence, that is true, and whatever peace I find is solitary. I think about the future. Will I be forced to take up arms and fight out of hatred, in order to free my people?...My friends have become hardened. The streets are overrun with the enemy, but my friends are roaming the streets, acting rebellious and unconcerned..."

(Egypt, 1991) "Now a lonely little boy, he'd had to go out on his own after the accident and had joined a team of beggars, a small group of boys ruled by a teenager...whose shadow looms over Saed, coming to whip Saed with his belt- accusing him of not working hard enough"

(Somalia, 1989) "Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like a queen. Everything around her was somber and mournful. With a proud bearing, she walked... I read, in her beautiful, emaciated face, Africa's wounded history....
Starvation is still prevalent in many parts of Africa. It is the silent appeal of these images of starving children that must resonate within us, drawing our empathy, an understanding for their plight that goes beyond pity & efforts at assistance..."

(Sudan, 1989) "I saw his feet, scarred by chains that also bound his hands. His eyes were resigned, his voice contained. He evoked the image of another time, the days when his ancestors were seen by white people as nothing but a kind of currency to be traded."

(Cambodia, 1996) "His rifle is heavy and cumbersome, but it reassures him. The weapon has become his accomplice, as well as his guardian. He feels strong when he holds it...It is his confidant, and his guarantee that he will be able to carry out his revenge someday... He has the face of an angel. But his expression is harsh and sad..."

(Cambodia, 1996) "I met this man, who had lost his leg in a mine. He and his family had become separated because of the warfare in the country... he learned that his family had settled in a hammock, setting up camp right on the sidewalk. This was the day of their reunion."

(Russia, 1999) "I asked his name, and he began to weep. He said no one had asked his name in ten years... Through his half-open shirt, I glimpsed the portraits, symbols of a bygone ideology... In Siberia, prisoners in the gulags had those 4 faces tattooed on their chests to avoid the firing squad. What soviet would have dared shoot at his heroes?
After the fall of socialism, and with the subsequent revival of the right to express religious feeling, he had added a new icon to protect him- a cross"

(Afghanistan, 2000) "The noises of war overpower memory. If you try to black out your visual memory, just for a moment, so you concentrate on what you remember hearing during battle, then you become overwhelmed by a completely different perception of war, as well as by different emotions...
A woman sat next to a young man, holding him in her arms, touching him tenderly. Her only son had been hit by a bullet during the battle. Twenty years old, he had just taken his last breath..."

(Pakistan, 2007) "Before, life was simple and attuned to the seasons. The rhythm and continuity of the seasons allow fertile soil to flourish, sustaining the people who honor it...
But then came the soldiers...One man held a gun to her mother. Another pinned her young brother to the floor. One of the men raped her, while 2 men held her down...
Now, each day is a painful struggle as she and her family try to recover a little of their lost honor..."

(Afghanistan, 1990) "In the short scale of human life, the erring ways of man, the jolts of historical events, and the violence perpetrated in the name of power have a profound effect and seem inordinately important. But in comparison with the long road humanity is pursuing as it marches toward peace and perfection, they account for little..."

(P.S it was EXTREMELY difficult to narrow it down to this selection, and you can bet I will do a continuation piece)