Fotos von Riak | Lizenzfreie und hochauflösende Bilder herunterladen https://www.cizucu.com/de/explore/photos/riak de 2026-04-12T11:22:42+09:00 60 cizucu RSS Feed Generator © 2026 cizucu Inc. All rights reserved. de https://www.cizucu.com/assets/favicons/favicon.ico #080c4c <![CDATA[KIRAKIRA | Yumi]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/rw04VFheY4CEmb5DF0eP Yumi https://www.cizucu.com/de/yunomi_1105 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/rw04VFheY4CEmb5DF0eP Thu, 19 Dec 2024 13:11:32 GMT 2024-12-20T06:54:05+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/rw04VFheY4CEmb5DF0eP.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[#rick and sea | PAPALIN]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/3W5ppBQKB5DUixXBYIpN PAPALIN https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/IuasRv677Bd12ViHIRMiirkFjXH3 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/3W5ppBQKB5DUixXBYIpN Mon, 13 Oct 2025 13:59:28 GMT 2025-10-13T13:59:28+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/3W5ppBQKB5DUixXBYIpN.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[昨年の11月半ばからオープンしていた特設スケートリンクも今月の26日で終了。 自分の中ではこのイベントが終わる頃に春がやってくるイメージがある。3月もすぐそこだから。 #Skating rink #midtown #AKS #MNT #tokyo #cityscape | つばさ製作所]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/CjPg7N3v0BC7n9JOCSEN つばさ製作所 https://www.cizucu.com/de/tsubasa_mfg https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/CjPg7N3v0BC7n9JOCSEN Mon, 17 Feb 2025 21:09:32 GMT 2025-03-16T20:15:34+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/CjPg7N3v0BC7n9JOCSEN.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[The Last Interred I brought a medium format camera to my grandmother’s funeral to capture the beauty found in the face of death. Rather than a mournful event, we celebrated her life and marked a new chapter in our family’s collective memory. She was the last of us to be interred; the rising cost and difficulty of burial mean that those who follow her will not have the same physical anchor. Without the permanence of a grave, future generations risk becoming only faint memories. In this shift, these photographs are meant to do more than just document. They now act in place of the stone. | Kitty Chirapongse]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/p4nmJi7ozAJ0V0pp0po0 Kitty Chirapongse https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/6NcUAX3SVjaeZ4F1gQC9SxNeuKs2 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/p4nmJi7ozAJ0V0pp0po0 Mon, 06 Apr 2026 13:35:44 GMT 2026-04-06T13:35:44+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/p4nmJi7ozAJ0V0pp0po0.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[Alienation of Dharavi : A Bombay slum with a $1-billion informal economy “We stopped the Adani Group’s redevelopment survey twice in protest. Our homes, our work, our lives are here. Redevelopment will only mean displacement. They say anyone who came after 2000 will be pushed far away, and even we must pay to stay,” says Naseem, a Dharavi resident. In picture : Labourers stacking up a sack of clay — This is from Dharavi’s informal pottery industry, which has been running for over 100 years. Dharavi, spread across 590 acres, is home to nearly a million people from diverse backgrounds. Pottery is just one of many livelihoods here, alongside leather, garments, and others — all now at risk of being displaced & alienated by the proposed slum redevelopment plan. | Bombay Noir]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/blvZqys7p3C6BXz4owuH Bombay Noir https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/tay5ia7oZ0M8Hk3zKpy8CxmZQ0g2 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/blvZqys7p3C6BXz4owuH Sat, 14 Mar 2026 13:27:45 GMT 2026-03-14T13:27:45+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/blvZqys7p3C6BXz4owuH.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[“Not all heroes wear capes, some make them” is a photographic project centered on the tailors of Singapore. In a rapidly modernising city, tailoring has quietly become a fading craft, often overlooked and undervalued. Through this series, I hope to draw attention back to these artisans who have spent decades honing their skill. The visual approach focuses on raw, intimate details—the worn textures of an ageing tailoring shop, the quiet stillness of the space, and the lines etched on her face. These elements are not signs of decline, but of experience, resilience, and mastery. Every crease and surface tells a story of time, patience, and dedication to a craft that once held greater prominence. As society shifts toward technology and more “advanced” professions, traditional trades like tailoring risk being forgotten. This project is an attempt to pause, observe, and appreciate the hands that continue to create, repair, and sustain. In doing so, it serves as both a tribute and a gentle call to notice those whose work, though often unseen, has long shaped the fabric of everyday life. | Arthur Liew]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/cLMlwd2zuriHaAa7UIXB Arthur Liew https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/eWLvNjGOEkM63yNJ2l0uLCpbVrk2 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/cLMlwd2zuriHaAa7UIXB Sun, 22 Mar 2026 16:38:29 GMT 2026-03-22T16:38:29+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/cLMlwd2zuriHaAa7UIXB.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[“Not all heroes wear capes, some make them” is a photographic project centered on the tailors of Singapore. In a rapidly modernising city, tailoring has quietly become a fading craft, often overlooked and undervalued. Through this series, I hope to draw attention back to these artisans who have spent decades honing their skill. The visual approach focuses on raw, intimate details—the worn textures of an ageing tailoring shop, the quiet stillness of the space, and the lines etched on her face. These elements are not signs of decline, but of experience, resilience, and mastery. Every crease and surface tells a story of time, patience, and dedication to a craft that once held greater prominence. As society shifts toward technology and more “advanced” professions, traditional trades like tailoring risk being forgotten. This project is an attempt to pause, observe, and appreciate the hands that continue to create, repair, and sustain. In doing so, it serves as both a tribute and a gentle call to notice those whose work, though often unseen, has long shaped the fabric of everyday life. | Arthur Liew]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/aCRdHvBtI6EE9pHD6Jud Arthur Liew https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/eWLvNjGOEkM63yNJ2l0uLCpbVrk2 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/aCRdHvBtI6EE9pHD6Jud Sun, 22 Mar 2026 16:32:12 GMT 2026-03-22T16:32:12+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/aCRdHvBtI6EE9pHD6Jud.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[“Not all heroes wear capes, some make them” is a photographic project centered on the tailors of Singapore. In a rapidly modernising city, tailoring has quietly become a fading craft, often overlooked and undervalued. Through this series, I hope to draw attention back to these artisans who have spent decades honing their skill. The visual approach focuses on raw, intimate details—the worn textures of an ageing tailoring shop, the quiet stillness of the space, and the lines etched on her face. These elements are not signs of decline, but of experience, resilience, and mastery. Every crease and surface tells a story of time, patience, and dedication to a craft that once held greater prominence. As society shifts toward technology and more “advanced” professions, traditional trades like tailoring risk being forgotten. This project is an attempt to pause, observe, and appreciate the hands that continue to create, repair, and sustain. In doing so, it serves as both a tribute and a gentle call to notice those whose work, though often unseen, has long shaped the fabric of everyday life. | Arthur Liew]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/RDduCIQ1jlKWBqn7gdBH Arthur Liew https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/eWLvNjGOEkM63yNJ2l0uLCpbVrk2 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/RDduCIQ1jlKWBqn7gdBH Sun, 22 Mar 2026 16:29:33 GMT 2026-03-22T16:29:33+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/RDduCIQ1jlKWBqn7gdBH.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[This photograph is part of Gulabi, a documentary series named after my grandmother, capturing the quiet rhythms of her life in her modest home in Udupi, Karnataka, India. At ninety, her presence held both fragility and strength — a living archive of memory, resilience, and grace. In this frame, she sits in stillness while a small cat rests on her shoulder, an unspoken companionship that softens the solitude often associated with aging. The gesture is simple, yet deeply human — care expressed without words. Gulabi took her last breath in February 2025. This image, and the series as a whole, is one I return to often. It fills me with quiet pride to know that her presence will continue to live on through these photographs for years to come. The series reflects on aging as a state of dignity rather than decline. It invites us to reconsider what we overlook: the beauty of routine, the intimacy of silence, and the emotional landscapes contained within everyday life. Moving forward, I hope to continue exploring themes of human consciousness and intergenerational spiritual connection. My challenge is to document with tenderness and honesty — preserving and creating stories that risk disappearing in the speed of modern life, while safeguarding the essence of what it means to be truly human and to coexist in this world. | Shetty Karthik]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/SaattyEITUWZ19MyOfcT Shetty Karthik https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/4CAGdl8B7GXvaOKe9WeEAoMcJ232 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/SaattyEITUWZ19MyOfcT Tue, 24 Feb 2026 18:17:48 GMT 2026-02-24T18:17:48+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/SaattyEITUWZ19MyOfcT.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[Raeng Nóm Jai The Force That Draws the Heart I had already packed my bag when I noticed them. The light was sinking fast, turning the sky into a quiet fire. The game had been going on for hours — dust rising, shoes scraping against concrete, laughter mixing with competition. Nothing extraordinary, just boys playing before night took the court back. But something shifted. One of them held the ball differently. His body leaned forward, not to pass, not to hesitate — but to rise. I felt it before it happened. The frame formed in my mind: the jump, the defender’s reach, the sun suspended behind them like a witness. My battery was nearly dead. I did not have time to test, to adjust, to repeat. There would be no second attempt. No correction. Just instinct. I turned the camera on. For a fraction of a second, everything aligned — body, ball, light, horizon. They lifted into the air, and I pressed the shutter once. Then the camera died. The ball would fall. The players would land. The sun would disappear. The game would continue as if nothing monumental had occurred. But that single frame remained. Raeng Nóm Jai — the force that draws the heart — is not gravity as science explains it. It is the pull toward a moment before it fully reveals itself. It is the discipline to trust what you feel forming. The courage to act without certainty of outcome. I do not chase images. I wait until they begin to pull at me — until hesitation becomes heavier than risk. Like gravity, art draws the human heart toward what feels true. In that one unrepeated second, instinct outweighed fear. And that was enough. | John Hupa]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/sVh1uqHQzy9Jq3sPjFco John Hupa https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/5pbld81DKVT8o45bBOOJ7CDUle72 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/sVh1uqHQzy9Jq3sPjFco Wed, 11 Feb 2026 12:29:25 GMT 2026-02-11T12:29:25+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/sVh1uqHQzy9Jq3sPjFco.jpg?auto=compress,format <![CDATA[Raeng Nóm Jai The Force That Draws the Heart I had already packed my bag when I noticed them. The light was sinking fast, turning the sky into a quiet fire. The game had been going on for hours — dust rising, shoes scraping against concrete, laughter mixing with competition. Nothing extraordinary, just boys playing before night took the court back. But something shifted. One of them held the ball differently. His body leaned forward, not to pass, not to hesitate — but to rise. I felt it before it happened. The frame formed in my mind: the jump, the defender’s reach, the sun suspended behind them like a witness. My battery was nearly dead. I did not have time to test, to adjust, to repeat. There would be no second attempt. No correction. Just instinct. I turned the camera on. For a fraction of a second, everything aligned — body, ball, light, horizon. They lifted into the air, and I pressed the shutter once. Then the camera died. The ball would fall. The players would land. The sun would disappear. The game would continue as if nothing monumental had occurred. But that single frame remained. Raeng Nóm Jai — the force that draws the heart — is not gravity as science explains it. It is the pull toward a moment before it fully reveals itself. It is the discipline to trust what you feel forming. The courage to act without certainty of outcome. I do not chase images. I wait until they begin to pull at me — until hesitation becomes heavier than risk. Like gravity, art draws the human heart toward what feels true. In that one unrepeated second, instinct outweighed fear. And that was enough. | John Hupa]]> https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/cI8eCjEr7pTX08wnzCdu John Hupa https://www.cizucu.com/de/users/5pbld81DKVT8o45bBOOJ7CDUle72 https://www.cizucu.com/de/photos/cI8eCjEr7pTX08wnzCdu Wed, 11 Feb 2026 12:30:12 GMT 2026-02-11T12:30:12+09:00 https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/cI8eCjEr7pTX08wnzCdu.jpg?auto=compress,format