“Mr. Original”

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ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

They were stopped
Eyes glued to an mysterious old brown, wooden box
Young family of four wandering the antique market
My lens watched.

“Is that an old music box?”, the 12-year old boy asks his Dad
Raises iPhone at arms length and silently takes a photo
“Google it on your Mac”, says Dad.

The 10-year old sister
grasps Blackberry
Remembers old collection of love songs that Mom had saved since she was a teenager
Music was on something called a cassette
Mom cried as she tried to untangle the pile of crinkled tan tape covering her garage floor.

Dad suddenly remembers
Stack of used 8-tracks
Stuffed in sagging cabinet
His untidy study.

“I remember your Grandma
Had large black discs with small holes”, Mom says
Big cardboard covers
Lots of songs on them
She called them 33’s.

“Oh yeah”, Dad says.
“Remember Grandpa’s stacks small black discs with big holes in them?”
I played frisbee with them.
The labels said 45 rpm.

“I sure wish your Great Grandpa was here”, Mom says
He played a tenor saxophone in a jazz band at Princeton
He had blacks discs with small holes that went ‘round and ‘round real fast
Called em 78‘s
He played songs by Paul Whiteman and Bix Beiderbecke
The music was scratchy.

“I was a little boy at your Great, Great Grandpa’s house”, Dad says
Old, wooden music box like this one in the corner of their living room
Crank on it
Faded old black and white photograph of them sat on top of the music box
They were young
They were dressed up
They were dancing
Great Great Grandma was wearing a short dress with fringe on the bottom
She looked like she was hopping around
Her legs were bent like twigs at the knees”

With a sprinkling of grey hair, I raised my Nikon
With slumping shoulders, this aging photographer slowly slinked into the shadows of Buenos Aires.

“What’s Up?”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:


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.

“Free Spirit”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Livin’ life with an easy breeze.

Floatin’ through time to the sounds of your own tunes.

Feelin’ the free spirit of liberty.

“Hi there”,
She says as she breezes by.

Don’t you just love it?
I do!
You go for it gal!!!

Sundays in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of San Telmo are sweet.

“San Telmo Sunday”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

The cobblestoned street neighborhood of San Telmo in Buenos Aires comes alive every Sunday.

Artisans, musicians, street performers and antique vendors come from near and far to share their treasures and their talents with the public at the weekly antique fair Feria de San Telmo.


ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Never know!

Who cares!

In the middle of the San Telmo neighborhood, sitting in the middle of the street, dressed to the hilt, smothered in white powder, he remained stone motionless. A full tin cup of pesos by his side.

Many tried to get him to move, wiggle or blink.

I wondered how he emptied the tin cup.

“Your Next Morsel”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

The giant, ugly cockroach slowly and quietly crawled up the tall wall.

Six hairy legs sensitively touched the pebbled concrete.

The weaving antennae gave the insect an extra sense of smell.

His compound eyes watched me from behind his body.

The bloated abdomen dragged on the painted surface.


The cockroach on the wall
Logo for an art gallery.

Only in Buenos Aires!

“Wild Talent!”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Through Harold’s Lens begins a fun new photographic series into the light, breezy and whimsical side of Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Our journey takes us up close and personal.

Put on your dancing shoes.

Snap on your high heel sneakers.

Sling a splash of color.

Slink into deep thought or passion.

Grasp a cold beer or hug a stem of red.

Add a dose of tango.

Let’s have some fun!

The canvas on the artist’s easel was huge. A creation of a portrait was underway. Paint flying everywhere. Colors slung against the canvas from two feet away.

I was glued to the artist’s hands.

Then I saw his feet.