What I see in this picture is hate. It is hate because it stands for something racist and and hateful which is demeaning and wrong. I also see delusion because everyone of those men or women believe what they are doing is right which is even more scary.
What I smell is burning wood and sweat. The sweat is new but old because they have been sweating all day. And the wood is fresh because they are burning it at that moment. I also smell the uniforms and they are bitter. I smell there breathes and they are bad because they have been out all day and haven't brushed there teeth In a while.
What I hear is crackle from the fire, the crackles are soft but loud enough to where everyone can hear them. I also hear hundreds of men spewing hate and cheering with rough and coarse voices. I also hear stomping and marching maybe even footsteps of someone arriving.
What I taste is salt, from the sweat dripping from there faces down to there lips and when they talk leaking into there mouths. I also taste smoke from the flames and its bitter and strong. I taste hatred and blindness of a clear mind from the hatred.
What I feel is an anger that they have that has been built up from years of other people telling them false things. I feel scared for the people they might hurt or offend. I feel sad that no one is stopping them and can't. I feel lucky that we have evolved more from those times even though we still have racism it isn't to the extent of what it used to be.
What I see is sympathy, but sympathy for himself. He is terrified for his life. This man is getting shot at and probably thinks he's gonna die. He is curled up in a ball hoping that a bullet doesn't hit him and kill him.
What I smell grass and dirt because its all over him and his face. I smell sweat because he's in the sun and he's been fighting for his life. I also smell gun powder and bullets because they are flying past him.
What I hear Is guns firing bullets, and the sound of when a bullet hits a rock or person or even the ground. I also hear the wind, it was a windy day and the wind is moving around the grass and dirt and its gently hitting him. I also hear helicopters flying over him repeatedly.
What I taste is grass and its sweet and soft, but also dirt and the dirt is bitter. I taste bitter gun powder which stings the tongue. I taste the soft and delicate wind which feels nice and light it balances out the bitterness from the gun powder. I taste sweat which tastes salty and gross.
I feel sad, sad that there is nothing I can do but watch he's fighting for his country and trying to do something good but all he's getting is consistent pain whether its emotional or physical or even both he's feeling a lot of pain and its apparent. I feel bad that this guy could be at home with his family eating dinner laughing at jokes his two year old is telling him but instead he is feeling pain.
W. Eugene smith is known for photographing war and tragedy which at times is intense but is educational which I think is important I think that he should be honored by a poster that way people in the hallway or wherever its put would see it and learn about him and his amazing work, maybe they will see it and even look him up and find an interest in his work.
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