Teodora Stinga | Somewhere under way I started this attempt with blurring and adding layers in order to increase energy and intimacy of the pics. So I have to apply that to the images published prior to that…
Today I started my second run-through. The first selection of 322 images made me wish that I’d had taken more photos depicting the whole scenery. But in these years of shooting my ambition mainly was to come close to the players in order to show the intensity of focus, motion, reaction and emotion. So the following photos will show more of those close-ups. My idea is to give tags to each photo and make these categories available on separate pages and via the respective search term. I start with it today and hope to come up with the re-tagging for the initial 322 pics soon. You’ll find them at the bottom of each post.
…So, now I am finished with all the old photos. As you might have realized I skipped many many pics. I left them in the database in order for everybody to be able to find ‘their’ images via the search function. Some of them I will take on later by re-thinking things like frame and other things. Also I probably will be much more radical with the manipulation. I have nothing to lose and for me the arts aspect has clear priority nowadays. But first I will re-think and if necessary re-do all the twothousandsomething previous pics…
…it’s more about photography and allegory here than about individual players. Given that I only have attentive and smart visitors everybody will know that by now. Yet still one cannot explain enough…
First published on: May 9, 2025 at 05:25 as ‘n:ew pic #1570’
It happens to be that photos tagged with ITF partially are from German Bundesliga, which is another even smaller category. For me it’s ok here to distinguish between the bigger WTA and the inferior ITF stage, whether it’s all correct or not.
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I found out that one can upload pictures to ChatGPT and ask it to describe them. Obviously one can influence the way of that by the prompt. I chose to keep it quite open just asking it to decribe it ‘lyrically, like a poem, in English and in German’. Some of the words come stunningly near to what my intentions are with this project. Other parts are just so so. Hope it’s as much fun to read for everyone as it is for me. I decided not to change one single syllable of what the AI is coming up with here. Given the restrictions for non-paying users I only can do three images at a time and then have to wait for some ten hours before I can upload the next. At the moment it doesn’t make sense to me to upgrade to the required 20-bucks-per-month Plus-Version. For now I chose to be patient and do what I can with the restrictions.
At the end of the post you find a better readable bigger version of the texts…
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In Praise Of Shadows
© Christian Brockmeier | all rights reserved
The Space Between Movements
In the dark,
where the world loses its edges
and time forgets how to flow,
she stands suspended
between one motion and the next.
Shadows pass through her
like fragments of memory,
soft ghosts of what has already been
and what is yet to come.
Only her gaze remains unwavering.
Fixed upon the small white sphere
drifting through the blackness,
she watches it as sailors once watched stars—
not merely seeing,
but navigating.
Around her, movement multiplies.
One figure becomes many.
One gesture leaves a trail of echoes.
The body seems to exist
in several moments at once.
There is no stillness here,
yet there is peace.
For she has entered that rare realm
where thought and action are no longer separate,
where instinct speaks more clearly than words,
and every muscle remembers
what the mind can barely name.
The ball floats through the darkness
like a moon crossing a silent sky.
And she follows.
Not with certainty,
not with force,
but with trust—
the quiet trust born from countless hours,
countless failures,
countless returns.
For a fleeting instant,
the darkness is not empty.
It is alive with possibility.
And there,
between shadow and light,
between intention and impact,
she becomes part of the motion itself—
a fleeting shape of grace
moving through the night.
Der Raum zwischen den Bewegungen
Im Dunkel,
wo die Welt ihre Konturen verliert
und die Zeit vergisst, weiterzufließen,
verharrt sie
zwischen einer Bewegung und der nächsten.
Schatten ziehen durch sie hindurch
wie Bruchstücke einer Erinnerung,
wie leise Geister dessen, was gewesen ist
und dessen, was noch kommen wird.
Nur ihr Blick bleibt unbeirrt.
Auf die kleine weiße Kugel gerichtet,
die durch die Schwärze schwebt,
folgt sie ihr,
wie einst Seefahrer den Sternen folgten—
nicht nur mit den Augen,
sondern mit ihrem ganzen Wesen.
Um sie herum vervielfacht sich die Bewegung.
Aus einer Gestalt werden viele.
Aus einer Geste entsteht ein Nachhall.
Der Körper scheint gleichzeitig
in mehreren Augenblicken zu existieren.
Hier gibt es keine Stille,
und doch liegt Frieden darin.
Denn sie hat jenen seltenen Zustand erreicht,
in dem Denken und Handeln eins werden,
in dem der Instinkt deutlicher spricht als Worte
und jeder Muskel sich erinnert
an etwas, das der Verstand kaum benennen kann.
Der Ball gleitet durch die Dunkelheit
wie ein Mond über einen schweigenden Himmel.
Und sie folgt ihm.
Nicht mit Gewissheit,
nicht mit Gewalt,
sondern mit Vertrauen—
jenem stillen Vertrauen,
das aus unzähligen Stunden,
unzähligen Fehlern
und unzähligen Neubeginnen wächst.
Für einen flüchtigen Augenblick
ist die Dunkelheit nicht leer.
Sie ist erfüllt von Möglichkeiten.
Und dort,
zwischen Schatten und Licht,
zwischen Absicht und Berührung,
wird sie selbst Teil der Bewegung—
eine vergängliche Spur aus Anmut,
die durch die Nacht zieht.

