IN MEMORIAM of Atanas Atanasov (Nasko)
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We, the photographers, are a big family. We know each other. We work together. Sometimes we argue. We are happy together. Sometimes we fight, but not in a bad way. We love each other. We support each other. We, the photographers, are broadminded. We are only interested in our pictures, shots, frames, files, images. For them we are ready to do anything. For them we don’t sleep. For them we wander. And again, for them, we sometimes are in the center of protests, meetings, sometimes wars, natural disasters, nightmares, unearthly beautiful nature, foreign lands. For them our close ones suffer our absence. We are broad-minded as we are not interested in our earthly belongings. Fashion clothes, cars, telephones, real estate – all this stays somewhere far away from us. In fact, we are attached to our cameras and lenses. They are part of us. They are eongation of our hand. They are addition to our sight. They are part of our mind. We cannot be without them. Without the camera we are like orphans. We cannot express ourselves without it, we cannot speak “photography”. It is our weakness. It is our self. They are everything for the photographer. Material, so we could reach spiritual perfection. And what if our camera gets sick and you, the photographer suffer with it. And what do you do? You go to Nasko – the doctor of lenses and cameras. You go to Dondoukov 18, you ring the bell, you go up those ten stairs and Nasko welcomes you, always with a smile on his face. He sees you and he already knows – your camera got sick. He gets the screwdriver, the tweezers, and like a surgeon, he opens it. You tremble in anticipation of the diagnosis. “It will live!”. A little reanimation and you are relieved. Your camera is ready for action. Nasko gave us back what accomplishes us. Now Nasko is gone. He went away – where everyone of us will someday go. Nasko, we miss you… Rossen Kolarov.
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