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      <title>ภาพถ่าย Face Like | ดาวน์โหลดรูปภาพปลอดค่าลิขสิทธิ์และความละเอียดสูง</title>
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          <title><![CDATA[Memories kept gnawing at me after a restless night. I woke up to the light, the rumpled sheets, my pajamas I’d picked out with so much care, and no face to show, not even wanting to see it after everything that happened. Mornings feel like quiet resets; this month has been a lot about that for me. Remembering, waking up, starting again—not with certainty, just taking a small step, learning to accept that I won’t understand everything when life crashes over me. | Rebecca Doracio]]></title>
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          <pubDate>Sun, 22 Mar 2026 01:50:50 GMT</pubDate>
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          <title><![CDATA[I began my journey documenting Ethical Wildlife Encounters by volunteering at a Sea Turtle Conservation Centre, witnessing baby turtles hatch and make their first perilous dash to the sea. It felt like everything had come full circle when, after learning to dive, I encountered fully grown sea turtles underwater. Considering the many challenges they face right from hatching to adulthood, seeing them thriving in their natural habitat felt nothing short of miraculous. Capturing them on camera, juxtaposed with our presence as divers, was a profound reminder of the delicate balance between humans and wildlife. | nicoleakanikkiko]]></title>
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          <title><![CDATA[I began my journey documenting Ethical Wildlife Encounters by volunteering at a Sea Turtle Conservation Centre, witnessing baby turtles hatch and make their first perilous dash to the sea. It felt like everything had come full circle when, after learning to dive, I encountered fully grown sea turtles underwater. Considering the many challenges they face right from hatching to adulthood, seeing them thriving in their natural habitat felt nothing short of miraculous. Capturing them on camera, juxtaposed with our presence as divers, was a profound reminder of the delicate balance between humans and wildlife. | nicoleakanikkiko]]></title>
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          <title><![CDATA[When I walked into the Time Square’s Starbucks, what caught my eyes was more than a decorum, it was almost like it was reminding or mocking me of something. It was then I captured this and it was pure cinema in a shot. This showed me how we are equally hanging by a thread; emptied, face down, and yet clinging to the last ounce of reassurance that we are not alone. That every other person walking into this coffee shop is facing the same verge of meeting rock bottom. Emptied once again; passing through the entrance to refill life back into themselves knowing well they are incessantly bound to this perfunctory drudgery.  | Drishti Gowda]]></title>
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            <media:title><![CDATA[When I walked into the Time Square’s Starbucks, what caught my eyes was more than a decorum, it was almost like it was reminding or mocking me of something. It was then I captured this and it was pure cinema in a shot. This showed me how we are equally hanging by a thread; emptied, face down, and yet clinging to the last ounce of reassurance that we are not alone. That every other person walking into this coffee shop is facing the same verge of meeting rock bottom. Emptied once again; passing through the entrance to refill life back into themselves knowing well they are incessantly bound to this perfunctory drudgery.  | Drishti Gowda]]></media:title>
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          <title><![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]]></title>
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          <title><![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]]></title>
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          <title><![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]]></title>
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            <media:title><![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]]></media:title>
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            <media:description><![CDATA[ดูภาพถ่ายที่น่าทึ่งจาก Arthur Liew ใน cizucu]]></media:description>
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          <title><![CDATA[This portrait is a part of series of photographs that I shot while on an assignment for the ‘Chinar Corps’.  Our itinerary included a village in the deeper ends of Kashmir. I was drawn to the daily life of the locals, how they travelled across the village and beyond, and their seemingly vanishing connectivity to the outside world.   Among the many faces that I saw, this gentleman drew my attention. His quiet demeanor and slow movements welcomed me to look at the daily life of his village through his eyes. There was something about his presence, warm and welcoming, yet deeply reserved. In my attempts to not be overbearing, I was able to break through and had the longest conversation with him and I forgot about trying to find other villagers. I have no regrets about it as his point of view stayed with me and I plan to take it with me.  It was his matured yet innocent expression that stayed with me. He had forgotten to smile in all his years of living in the village. Whenever I shoot portraits, I try to lighten the moment to make sure I get the most authentic expression from the subject. But with him, it felt like I would lie to the world if I did that. It, perhaps seemed unnecessary.  His face carried a calm intrigue, still, composed, and full of unspoken stories. Reality of portraits is subtler yet stronger than performance, it seemed. | Yash Rane]]></title>
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          <description><![CDATA[ดูภาพถ่ายที่น่าทึ่งจาก Yash Rane ใน cizucu]]></description>
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            <name>Yash Rane</name>
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          <pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2026 17:52:43 GMT</pubDate>
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            <media:title><![CDATA[This portrait is a part of series of photographs that I shot while on an assignment for the ‘Chinar Corps’.  Our itinerary included a village in the deeper ends of Kashmir. I was drawn to the daily life of the locals, how they travelled across the village and beyond, and their seemingly vanishing connectivity to the outside world.   Among the many faces that I saw, this gentleman drew my attention. His quiet demeanor and slow movements welcomed me to look at the daily life of his village through his eyes. There was something about his presence, warm and welcoming, yet deeply reserved. In my attempts to not be overbearing, I was able to break through and had the longest conversation with him and I forgot about trying to find other villagers. I have no regrets about it as his point of view stayed with me and I plan to take it with me.  It was his matured yet innocent expression that stayed with me. He had forgotten to smile in all his years of living in the village. Whenever I shoot portraits, I try to lighten the moment to make sure I get the most authentic expression from the subject. But with him, it felt like I would lie to the world if I did that. It, perhaps seemed unnecessary.  His face carried a calm intrigue, still, composed, and full of unspoken stories. Reality of portraits is subtler yet stronger than performance, it seemed. | Yash Rane]]></media:title>
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            <media:description><![CDATA[ดูภาพถ่ายที่น่าทึ่งจาก Yash Rane ใน cizucu]]></media:description>
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          <title><![CDATA[This photograph was taken during my journey through Liangshan. The day was bitterly cold, and the air was heavy with moisture. The cold did not feel like something that merely touched the skin—it felt as though it could pass through clothing and sink deep into the body. We crossed one frost-covered hill after another, and at the top of one of them, we came across a solitary house. There were no other people in sight for nearly a kilometer, yet inside lived a young brother and sister, both no older than about five.  They told us that the adults had gone to the market to sell cattle and sheep, leaving the two of them at home alone. There was no light in the house, and the floor was rough, cold concrete. Even with boots on, I could feel my toes growing painfully numb, yet they walked barefoot across the frost-covered floor as if they had long since grown used to it. Their runny noses clung to the tips of their noses, drying and wetting again and again, becoming one of the most direct traces of that winter day.  We asked them what they usually did at home, and they answered, quite naturally, that they liked biting thick pieces of cardboard for fun. As they spoke, they really did begin to bite into it. In that moment, I felt a quiet sadness. But then a beam of sunlight fell across the child’s face, and he burst into laughter, as if the harshness around him had not managed to define him. At that instant, I realized that what I was seeing was no longer just poverty or cold, but something far stronger—the resilience of life itself.  This photograph is important to me not because it documents hardship in a remote place, but because it reminds me that even in the most unforgiving environments, people can still hold on to joy, vitality, and light. What I felt that day was not simply sympathy, nor the shock of an outsider looking in, but a deep sense of respect. To me, this photograph is not about suffering. It is about resilience. It is not about deprivation, but about the light that remains, even within it. | 熊寶]]></title>
          <link>https://www.cizucu.com/th/photos/1IuVoF2K24vT83YiYK40</link>
          <description><![CDATA[ดูภาพถ่ายที่น่าทึ่งจาก 熊寶 ใน cizucu]]></description>
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            <name>熊寶</name>
            <uri>https://www.cizucu.com/th/users/zdddXarNsJdBtAS3ArljH0VHCDA2</uri>
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          <pubDate>Tue, 14 Apr 2026 12:44:16 GMT</pubDate>
          <atom:updated>2026-04-14T12:44:16+09:00</atom:updated>
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            <media:title><![CDATA[This photograph was taken during my journey through Liangshan. The day was bitterly cold, and the air was heavy with moisture. The cold did not feel like something that merely touched the skin—it felt as though it could pass through clothing and sink deep into the body. We crossed one frost-covered hill after another, and at the top of one of them, we came across a solitary house. There were no other people in sight for nearly a kilometer, yet inside lived a young brother and sister, both no older than about five.  They told us that the adults had gone to the market to sell cattle and sheep, leaving the two of them at home alone. There was no light in the house, and the floor was rough, cold concrete. Even with boots on, I could feel my toes growing painfully numb, yet they walked barefoot across the frost-covered floor as if they had long since grown used to it. Their runny noses clung to the tips of their noses, drying and wetting again and again, becoming one of the most direct traces of that winter day.  We asked them what they usually did at home, and they answered, quite naturally, that they liked biting thick pieces of cardboard for fun. As they spoke, they really did begin to bite into it. In that moment, I felt a quiet sadness. But then a beam of sunlight fell across the child’s face, and he burst into laughter, as if the harshness around him had not managed to define him. At that instant, I realized that what I was seeing was no longer just poverty or cold, but something far stronger—the resilience of life itself.  This photograph is important to me not because it documents hardship in a remote place, but because it reminds me that even in the most unforgiving environments, people can still hold on to joy, vitality, and light. What I felt that day was not simply sympathy, nor the shock of an outsider looking in, but a deep sense of respect. To me, this photograph is not about suffering. It is about resilience. It is not about deprivation, but about the light that remains, even within it. | 熊寶]]></media:title>
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            <media:thumbnail url="https://cdn.cizucu.com/images/photos/1IuVoF2K24vT83YiYK40.jpg?auto=compress,format&amp;w=1280&amp;h=720&amp;fit=fill&amp;fill=solid&amp;fill-color=000000" width="1280" height="720" />
            <media:description><![CDATA[ดูภาพถ่ายที่น่าทึ่งจาก 熊寶 ใน cizucu]]></media:description>
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