Category Archives: Men
Greece. “Wait for the wisest of all counselors, time.”Pericles. Statesman. 5th Century BC
Greece
Through Harold’s Lens
Canon PowerShot Pro, 7.2-50.8mm 33.9mm
1/2000 sec at f/4.5
Greece. “Solo In Athens”
Greece
Through Harold’s Lens
Canon PowerShot Pro, 7.2-50.8mm 40.4mm
1/1600 sec at f/4.0
Greece. “Memories & Tears”
Greece
Through Harold’s Lens
Canon PowerShot Pro, 7.2-50.8mm 12mm
1/6000 sec at f/4.5
Greece. “I Care About You”
Greece
Through Harold’s Lens
Canon PowerShot Pro, 7.2-50.8mm 43.1mm
1/50 sec at f/3.5
“Dreams From His 5-Year Old”
United States
Ohio
Chagrin Falls
Through Harold’s Lens
Sony a7S, Zeiss 35mm
1/500, f/5.0, ISO 100
“…And Then There’s Playing Monster With Dad”
United States
Ohio
Chagrin Falls
Through Harold’s Lens
Sony a7S, Zeiss 35mm
1/500, f/5.0, ISO 100
“Help From On High”
Mexico
Through Harold’s Lens:
Please start the music first, as you are enjoying the images and words.
You will receive the full sensual experience of this story.
Ave Maria. Schubert Opera:
Atop
Touching our Lord
Draped in cascading folds of gold
The Immaculate Conception.
Nestled below
Silently in prayer
Whispers of peace
Whispers of help
Whispers for our poor.
Draped in flowing folds of white
Sisters of the Immaculate Conception.
Wrinkled old man
Rags of threads
Rags of holes
Shuffles slowly
Cobblestones.
Soft knock
Rugged mesquite door
Rusted hinge creaks
Angelic face
Peers
From within.
Humbled old man
Twisted
Gnarled hands
Paints cross on chest
Head bows.
Aging hands of love
Quietly pass nourishment.
Whispers
Of love
Of comfort
Old old
Our sick
Our poor
Our lonely.
Amen
“A Great Tree Has Fallen”
South Africa
Through Harold’s Lens:
On this day
When the great man is laid to rest
May the famous baobab tree
South Africa’s “Tree of Life”
Spring forth
Another
Nelson Mandela.
“My Surprise”
Belgium
Through Harold’s Lens:
Last night
Before our date.
You gave me a red rose
You kissed me tenderly.
You kneeled
You gently lifted my left hand
You looked into my eyes
You said “will you marry me?”
You slipped a diamond on my finger
Your eyes glistened
Tears rolled down my cheeks
I leaned and kissed you gently.
I whispered “yes!”
Today
Brunch in a Belgium Cafe
You savoring a delicious beer
I savoring you.
I dreamed of our life together
Our children
To be
Our home
To be
Our life values
Our education values
Our religious values
How we love to be with each other.
Our tenderness
Our touch.
Our care
Our concern.
Our love.
“In sickness and in health
Until death do us part”
“400 Years”
Greece
Through Harold’s Lens:
Tradition
Pageantry
Ceremony
Proven valour.
The Evezones
Elite light infantry unit
Greek Army trained
Honor Guard.
Famous around the world
Men, hefty beefy
6’3”
Solid muscle.
Slow motion
Synchronized movements
Hourly
Changing of the Guard.
Parliament Building
Syntagma Square
Tomb of the unknown soldier.
Unique uniform
Recall Greek history.
Kilt
98 feet of cotton cloth
400 pleats
400 years of Ottoman occupation.
Clogs
Red leather, black pompons
Soles, 120 nails
Weight, 7 pounds.
Elite Presidential Guard
Προεδρική Φρουρά
Argentina: “Italian Tap”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
From only six feet away I hypnotically watched the tan pointed Italian shoe anxiously move up and down. The seated young man’s movements were putting me into a trance. A weird mental state. From his outdoor cafe chair, he scanned the woman’s store fronts of fashion around him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Was he on drugs?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Was he waiting for a drop?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
What was up?
Scan the store fronts again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Look up.
Look down.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A lanky red head, in a red mini at upper thigh hovering on top of 6” spikes, walked up to him carrying four shopping bags. He stood. They held hands. Walked away. Interesting to watch a man while his gal is shopping for women’s clothes.
“What The Hell Is This?”
ARGENTINA. Through Harold’s Lens:
The 82-year old retired language Professor folded his Buenos Aires Herald to Page 6.
Staring quizzically at the headline he mumbled “what is this?
Headline: AISI by Rodrigo Fernandez.
Paragraph 1: IMOC ADN PPL PMIGBOM. KWIN. TARFU. WDYT. TTUL. FTF.
Paragraph 2 (Translation): “As I See It by Rodrigo Fernandez. In my considered opinion, any day now, people will put their mind in gear before opening mouth. Know what I mean? Things are really fouled up. What do you think? Talk to you later. Face to face is best”.
Frowning, the old man muttered “has today’s generation lost their ability to talk to each other face to face?
You know, it happened to math skills when calculators came out. Bummer!
Nothing like the romance and imagination that comes from flowing Spanish words printed on newsprint that I can smell, crinkle, linger over and fold with my hands.”
“Sexy Wrap”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Blackness enveloped our private cabin deep in the Argentina woods.
Soft pine branches brushed the roof. Candles flickered their specs of light off a crushed leather sofa. Pine logs crackled in the fireplace.
The soft, soothing sounds of Love Me Tender. The King!
I sat on the warm animal skin rug in front of the glow. A bottle of red. Uncorked. Two crystal wine glasses. Where were you?
Slowly, from the darkened doorway, your long tanned legs first appeared. Barefoot. Slinking, you walked towards me. Arms surrounding a tan, deeply furred wrap across your bare upper body. Yellow necklace tucked into cleavage.
Slowly you sat down besides me.
Fade to black.
“Rawhide”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Armoas of rich, subtle leather products surround me.
Leather stores by the hundreds.
Leather products by the thousands.
Rainbows after rainbows of multiple colors. Full-grain. Top-grain. Corrected-grain. Split. Buckskin. Patent. Vachetta. Slink. Deerskin. Nubuck and Napa.
Boots to the knee, bags off the shoulder, jackets slim and snug, pants hugging buns, skirts swishing air, totes, backpacks, belts, wallets, pouches… all sanded, buffed or snuffed.
A world capital of leather.
“You dashing dude you”, Rita said as I strutted away in my new custom leather jacket.
“Mallet Memories”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Polo match sounds, sights and smells grip my senses.
The huge vista of the polo field unfolds before my eyes. Green turf closely mowed.
Bright white wooden tables, chairs and tents stream along the sidelines.
Beautiful rich women abound. Floppy brimmed hats everywhere.
A young brunette, kicks off her black spikes. Sits. She crosses her long smooth tanned legs under a tight silky black skirt that rises well above mid thigh. The whift of intoxicating perfume wafts in the air.
Hustling tall trim men wearing creased cream slacks and snug blue blazers hug around. Right arms bent holding glass stems.
Pop! Pop! Corks fly. Champagne bubbles.
Smiling. Chatting. Hugging. Kissing.
Powerful polo ponies thunder high-speed down the polo field. Hooves flying. Dirt divots hang in mid air.
Aggressive and skillful testosterone laden macho men grip the animal’s reins.
Colorful hard wooden mallets wildly swing against the royal blue sky. Thwack!
Fast passes rip a white ball down the field. Smack! Winning goal. Chukker ends.
Pumped egos dismount from sweat stained saddles.
Nothing like the Sport of Kings in Buenos Aires.
“What’s Up?”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Sunday.
Streets are closed to auto traffic in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of San Telmo.
It’s a bizarre time!
Artisans, musicians, street performers and antique vendors from near and far are here to share their treasures and their talents with the public.
People of all nationalities are wandering, walking, strolling, gawking. It’s a unique and alluring experience.
Over here, there’s something weird happening.
Over there, what is that woman doing?
Where’s the reggae music coming from?
Sundays in San Telmo just go with the flow.
“Salesman’s Pitch”
ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
Smooth talking he was.
He had courted Mr. Potential Client for weeks.
Today was another wet lunch with Mr. Potential Client.
Finally, with a firm voice and direct eye contact, the salesman said with a determined pitch and promise “I can save your company’s advertising budget 30%”.
Mr. Potential Client believed him, until he glanced at the attitude of his left hand.
Through Harold's Lens 