Paula Badosa | 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 26, 2025 at 20:29 as ‘n:ew pic #1615’
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.
ChatGPT
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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
Fire in Motion
Out of the darkness,
she bursts forward
like a spark refusing to be extinguished.
The world around her fractures into shadows,
into blurred traces of motion and noise,
but her purpose remains sharp,
drawn in light against the black.
The ball races through the air,
a pale comet crossing a midnight sky.
For most, it would be gone in an instant.
But she has already found it.
Her hands close around certainty.
Her eyes burn with focus.
Every muscle gathers itself
into a single act of intention.
There is no room here for hesitation.
Only instinct.
Only commitment.
Only the silent promise
to meet the moment fully.
The darkness rushes past her.
The racket carves its path.
Time stretches and bends,
lingering for a heartbeat longer
than it should.
And in that suspended breath,
there is something fierce and beautiful.
Not merely competition,
but defiance.
A refusal to yield.
A refusal to look away.
A refusal to become smaller
than the challenge before her.
Then the moment breaks.
The ball continues its journey.
The shadows reclaim their space.
The world begins to move again.
Yet something remains behind—
the echo of courage,
the shape of determination,
a brief flash of fire
burning brightly against the night.
—
Feuer in der Bewegung
Aus der Dunkelheit
bricht sie hervor
wie ein Funke,
der sich weigert zu verlöschen.
Die Welt um sie herum zerfällt
zu Schatten, zu flüchtigen Spuren von Bewegung und Lärm,
doch ihr Ziel bleibt klar,
wie mit Licht in die Schwärze gezeichnet.
Der Ball schießt durch die Luft,
ein blasser Komet am Nachthimmel.
Für die meisten wäre er
schon im nächsten Augenblick verschwunden.
Doch sie hat ihn längst gefunden.
Ihre Hände umschließen Gewissheit.
Ihre Augen brennen vor Konzentration.
Jeder Muskel sammelt sich
für einen einzigen Akt der Entschlossenheit.
Hier gibt es keinen Platz für Zögern.
Nur Instinkt.
Nur Hingabe.
Nur das stille Versprechen,
dem Augenblick ganz zu begegnen.
Die Dunkelheit zieht an ihr vorbei.
Der Schläger schneidet seinen Weg durch die Luft.
Die Zeit dehnt sich aus,
als wollte sie noch einen Herzschlag länger verweilen.
Und in diesem angehaltenen Atem
liegt etwas Wildes und Schönes.
Nicht nur Wettkampf,
sondern Widerstand.
Die Weigerung nachzugeben.
Die Weigerung wegzusehen.
Die Weigerung, kleiner zu werden
als die Herausforderung vor ihr.
Dann zerbricht der Augenblick.
Der Ball setzt seinen Flug fort.
Die Schatten kehren zurück.
Die Welt beginnt wieder zu fließen.
Doch etwas bleibt zurück—
das Echo von Mut,
die Gestalt von Entschlossenheit,
ein kurzer Blitz aus Feuer,
der hell gegen die Nacht aufleuchtet.
