When in the moment of inspiration the poet’s creative intelligence is married with the inborn wisdom of human language (the Word of God and Human Nature—Divinity and Sophia) then in the very flow of new and individual intuitions, the poet utters the voice of that wonderful and mysterious world of God-manhood—it is the transfigured, spiritualized and divinized cosmos that speaks through him, and through him utters its praise of the Creator.

-Thomas Merton, Ibid., 20–21; cf. CGB, 11, on wisdom as the attunement of “the divine and cosmic music” within us.

Alone…how it often feels, even when you are right next to a very supportive, truly helpful person who is attuned to you. It makes sense that you often feel so blocked off and isolated from others due to the old, harmful experiences and messages that seem so deeply ingrained in your mind, body, soul and spirit and how you wisely adapted, worked to cope and to do your best to try to keep yourself alive, safe, protected and to function. Now that your circumstances are different and you are more equipped with resources as an adult, you are seeing that it is worth the intense battle—when done at a pace and in ways that are appropriate for you—to fight for freedom, clarity and connection with others in healthy ways even though it feels impossible, unfamiliar and scary.

____________________

This image was captured from the passenger seat in the early morning while on the way to the hospital for my husband’s procedure to get a port for receiving IV medication. Viewing and capturing the scenery was my way of trying to cope. I know the image is not in clear focus [it was kind of dark and I was in a moving vehicle] and, to me, the blurriness adds to the meaning I find in the image.

Rosa Parks broke the law.

You know it. I know it. We all know it.

And isn't it a good thing that she did.

She took a risk in standing up against an unlawful law and everyone else benefitted.

Sadly, I don't see so many people with a such an attuned moral compass these days. Her bus boycott showed us the power we have as consumers, if nothing else.

She was also born in Tuskegee, home of the the Tuskegee airmen and the Tuskegee experiment

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuskegee_Syphilis_Study

Hello there. All relevant comments are welcome here.

But please do NOT post any awards, banners, etc.

All my images are my own original work.

All my images are subject to my copyright.

All rights reserved unless otherwise stated.

You need my permission to use any image for ANY purpose.

Copyright infringement is theft.

The wind howls, victoriously through the slender boughs

from afar, it's message clear enough to be heard

given time, aside from the life that routine allows

reminded of childhood, through japonic stories concurred

graphics instilled the landscape of growth in imagination

stretching further, colouring the mind ever deeper

reaching today in sunsetting hues and memory's fascination

every story harvested thenceforth, finds a winning keeper

a triumph over passing years, for recollections forget living hours

everything is alive once again, I am he; that youthful me

one moment is still now, above the present a souvenir towers

Oak n' Ash silhouetted against the velvet sky each a trusting devotee

waggling in ferocious gales; that constant pressure of living time

for the reality never lets go of the future seconds in the wake of-

our presence of mind over whats the matter with an attunement sublime,

rushing back and forth from recollections of the childhood we love

it's the truth of perception through young eyes that coloured today

in this sunset I see clearly the formation of illustration drawn

upon the donation of wisdom from the palm of nature we wish to allay

every hurt that time failed to heal; a childhood memory may cleanse the new dawn.

by anglia24

18h30: 01/02/2008

©2008anglia24

Photo By: Cate Infinity

In realms where shadows dance with fire's glow,

Where echoes of the past in whispers sigh,

There wanders forth a lone and timeless soul,

Beneath the vast and ever-changing sky.

Through valleys deep, where ancient secrets sleep,

And mountains rise to kiss the heavens high,

The wanderer, with steadfast heart, shall leap,

To chase the dreams that in the distance lie.

In forests dark, where trees their wisdom share,

And streams meander through enchanted glades,

The wanderer finds solace in the air,

As sunlight filters through the leafy shades.

With every step, a new adventure calls,

Through deserts wide and fields of endless green,

The wanderer heeds the silent beckoning,

To realms unseen, where wonders yet unseen.

Oh, wanderer, with spirit bold and true,

Your path unfolds beneath the endless sky,

Through storm and calm, the journey leads to you,

To find the truth that in your heart shall lie.

For in the art of wandering, we find,

The essence of the soul's eternal quest,

To seek, to roam, to leave no stone unturned,

And in the journey, find our deepest rest.

So let us wander forth, with eyes aglow,

And hearts attuned to nature's sacred song,

For in the wanderer's spirit, we shall know,

The boundless freedom where we all belong.

Soundtrack: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8T0cRt8efsQ

Sufferer's Lands was the name given to a tract of land in northern Ohio. The government awarded the land to residents of several towns in coastal Connecticut as restitution after their homes were burned by advancing British troops in the American Revolutionary War. The land is know today as the Firelands. But the name Sufferer's Lands really struck a chord with me. My passion in photography is centered on divining unseen energy the way some people dowse for underground water. I'm attuned to the dark side and that name seems utterly apropos.

My world turned upside down Sunday when our dog ran off into the woods. I chased after him but he can run faster than wind and was gone just like that. I searched for hours and encountered several witnesses who reported a fast moving white dog, yet I was always 45 minutes behind the last sighting. The day labored on under increasingly chilly, rainy and emotionally dreadful conditions. I kept trawling the village, in car and on foot, searching. All the places I normally go, full of life, energy, in pursuit of great photos. But now crossing these same pathways filled with joyless angst. Reminded me how much of our life perspective rides on such a critical balancing point. Suddenly the drudgery of daily tasks seemed like an oasis of fun compared to where I was at. I imagined the sad energy I was imprinting into the ground beneath my feet, and how many others may have done the same over the years. I convinced myself long ago that it was those very energy fields that I had managed to tap into for these photos. Anyway the dog search ended at sundown. I sat that evening looking at his empty bed and imagining how out in the wild. Very dark thoughts ensued. I realized I had to re-channel my mind into a more positive direction. I focused on the dog and extended telepathic guidance (no crazier than any of the other half-baked notions I write about). Daybreak saw the search resume and within an hour I received news that the dog was alive and safe after some stranger delivered him top the dog pound. I soon had him back home, a bit disoriented and filthy, but otherwise unharmed. My life perspective was back in balance. But I'll never forget those dreadful hours and how it made me reinterpret the very land I live on, the Sufferer's Lands.

This dark cemetery angel seemed the perfect visual for this story although it has nothing to do with it. It stands a lonely vigil on the extreme western boundary of the burial ground. Before it are acres of graves, but behind it only an eerie woodland. I love walking in the woods, but not here. These woods are dark and off-putting no matter the season or time of day. There's something not right here; I accept that and just stay out. This angel is as close as I go and even that feels too close. On this cold afternoon, I ventured in for a look. Her hands, once clasped in prayer, had fallen to the ground leaving a gaping square hole in her chest. The angel is made of Fiberglas and the elements continue to take their silent toll. Even without hands, the figure exhibits an eerie presence, as if warning people away from those dark woods.

Excerpt from the plaque:

Jade mountain of a visit to friend with qin

“Jade mountains” were common in the Qing scholar’s study. This jade mountain references the legend of Boya visiting his friend Zhong Ziqi with the qin, a type of zither, in the Spring and Autumn Period, which is popular subject in Chinese art. Ziqi was dubbed Boya’s zhiyin-a term for someone deeply attuned to one’s music, and later refers to a dear friend. The back of the object is inscribed with a poem by the Qianlong Emperor.

” I am terrified by this dark thing

That sleeps in me;

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings,

Its malignity.” - Sylvia Plaith

Taken inside the wonderful Hythe Crypt. Myself, Cameron and Neil ventured to Hythe to visit this spectacular display of bones on a cold day in March. A lovely old man turned the key in the lock of a large wooden door and as it creaked open, we stood aghast at the display of human skulls inside. The stone arches green with mildew and cobwebs and nestled between them death displayed in all its glory.

We lingered for a while talking about stories of who these skulls may have once belonged to, but mainly just admiring something our eyes were not attuned to seeing. We left the crypt excited by the frames we had captured and filled with new knowledge from the lovely Brinley

Shot with Mamiya 645DF+ Body & Leaf Credo 80 Digital Back, Schneider Kreuznach 80mm f2.8 LS Lens. Using 3LeggedThing Steve & Lowepro Protactic 450

38 zen by A23H, 2009

Alfred 23 Harth’s guiding principle of "using materials in given situations" acquires a distinctive folio in the body of work created at and around his LaubhuetteStudio Moonsun, located strikingly close to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea. This principle—rooted in responsiveness to context, chance, and the found object—shapes both the physical and conceptual dimensions of his art and music. The studio’s position in a borderland saturated with history and tension offered Harth a topography where everyday realities and deep time intermingle, providing a rich spectrum of inspiration and artistic challenge.

His sculptural and visual motifs during these years often drew on the militarized landscape: the labyrinth of schützengräben (trenches) and the winding Imjin river, their presence echoing both geopolitical anxiety and the rhythms of nature. Yet Harth’s palette extended well beyond the artefacts of conflict; his seasonal exploration of the rice fields yielded another kind of material resonance. Autumns would uncover fragments of celadon ceramics—shards from the Joseon dynasty, some several centuries old—unearthed by farmers and lying quietly embedded within the fields. These remnants, bearing the weight of history and the grace of lost craftsmanship, became more than archaeological curiosities. Integrated into his work, Harth transformed them into carriers of memory and witnesses to impermanence, responding to their shapes, textures, and stories much as he would to a sonic occurrence or a musical accident.

For Harth, this meticulous, improvisational attention to "given situations" means treating landscape, found objects, and historical artefacts not as backdrops but as generative elements within an evolving artistic dialogue. Whether dialoguing with the hard lines of defensive architecture or the delicate contours of celadon shards, his work at LaubhuetteStudio demonstrates a sensitive equilibrium between responding to place and intervening within it: art as a reciprocal act, grounded in contingency and attuned to the subtleties of its surroundings.

The Sonoran Desert as currently defined covers approximately 100,000 square miles (260,000 sq. km.) and includes most of the southern half of Arizona, southeastern California, most of the Baja California peninsula, the islands of the Gulf of California, and much of the state of Sonora, Mexico. It is lush in comparison to most other deserts. Two visually dominant life forms of plants distinguish the Sonoran Desert from the other North American deserts: legume trees and columnar cacti. It also supports many other life forms encompassing a rich spectrum of some 2,000 species of plants.

The amount and seasonality of rainfall are defining characteristics of the Sonoran Desert. Much of the area has a biseasonal rainfall pattern, though even during the rainy seasons most days are sunny. From December to March frontal storms from North Pacific Ocean occasionally bring widespread, gentle rain to the northwestern areas. From July to mid-September, the summer monsoon brings surges of wet tropical air and frequent but localized violent thunderstorms.

The Sonoran Desert prominently differs from the other three North American Deserts in having mild winters; most of the area rarely experiences frost. About half of the biota is tropical in origin, with life cycles attuned to the brief summer rainy season. The winter rains, when ample, produce huge populations of annuals (which comprise half of the species in our flora).

or perhaps just more distant?

i am here, but the farthest from attuned

that i have ever been.....

seeking divine inspiration....

in the meantime, a color version of this

Hardly a day passes without me looking at a color wheel. I could draw it from memory, but it's one of those things I have to see with my own eyes. It's all about the interaction of different colors. A very useful tool in creating color harmony in graphic design. Even if you don't bother studying color theory, it's one of those things that many people just instinctively understand. One of the precepts is the use of complementary colors, that is colors directly opposite one another on the wheel. Pairing complementary colors is just naturally eye-catching and soothing. You see it every single day in advertising. Finding these contrasts in nature is especially rewarding as a photographer. This autumn sky provided a stunning example as the orange leaves contrasted the deep blue sky of a chilly November day. The backlighting on this day was dramatic. One of the upsides of the declining sun angle this time of year (coupled with colder weather I suppose) is incredibly brilliant skies. There's a clarity that I just don't sense in summer. Perhaps it's there but I'm just not attuned to it. The low sun angle seems to add a sunset feel to daytime photos that's just not possible under a summer midday when the sun is directly overhead, far from the horizon. These leaves were really past prime, air dried and ready to drop. Color-wise, they were rather drab actually when viewed without the backlighting. They fluttered in the breeze like paper cutouts, like natural origami. But by aiming the lens back toward the sun, a blaze of color erupted as the leaves glowed like a million orange lanterns. It was if the color wheel had come to life.

"He stared into my eyes as he stroked my cheek, and I felt the blood rush up to color my skin. He laughed gently. And the sound of your heart, he said, it's the most significant sound in my world. I'm so attuned to it now, I swear I could pick it out from miles away."

Edward to Bella "Eclipse"

*sigh* don't we all want to feel like that? To be loved like that?

Happy Monday...

Explore (reached #22)

You exist as a creative being in a creative universe. A singular work of art - Rick Rubin

Kal very attuned to what is of current interest. He finds ways to be part of the action somehow.

Usually I don't share more than two photos at once on Flickr and I seldom post this type of images. However, when I search for birds, I become attuned to the nature around me and even without experience or a macro lens, I explore this another world.

Honey bee on Woolly Grevillea.

(Apis mellifera)

(Grevillea lanigera)

I know, you never intended to be in this world.

But you’re in it all the same.

so why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.

There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.

Bless the eyes and the listening ears.

Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.

Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.

Or not.

I am speaking from the fortunate platform

of many years,

none of which, I think, I ever wasted.

Do you need a prod?

Do you need a little darkness to get you going?

Let me be urgent as a knife, then,

and remind you of Keats,

so single of purpose and thinking, for a while,

he had a lifetime.

— ※ Mary Oliver ※

Alas, Orpheus. Akira Kosemura

"The under-song lives in us at any age."

✽ Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge *ੈ

Rock Faces; seeing faces is known as face Pareidolia, it is a common psychological phenomenon where people perceive faces in random or ambiguous images or objects. This happens because our brains are highly attuned to detecting faces, a skill that is crucial for social interaction and survival. When we encounter patterns that resemble facial features, our brains automatically interpret them as faces, even if they are not actually present. (Info from Google). These are faces to me.

sikhitothemax.com/page.asp?ShabadID=692

ਗਉੜੀ ਮਾਝ ਮਹਲਾ ੫ ॥

Gauree Maajh, Fifth Mehl:

ਮੀਠੇ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਉ ਜਿੰਦੂ ਤੂੰ ਮੀਠੇ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਉ ॥.

Sing the Sweet Praises of the Lord, O my soul, sing the Sweet Praises of the Lord.

ਸਚੇ ਸੇਤੀ ਰਤਿਆ ਮਿਲਿਆ ਨਿਥਾਵੇ ਥਾਉ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥

Attuned to the True One, even the homeless find a home. ||1||Pause||

ਹੋਰਿ ਸਾਦ ਸਭਿ ਫਿਕਿਆ ਤਨੁ ਮਨੁ ਫਿਕਾ ਹੋਇ ॥

All other tastes are bland and insipid; through them, the body and mind are rendered insipid as well.

ਵਿਣੁ ਪਰਮੇਸਰ ਜੋ ਕਰੇ ਫਿਟੁ ਸੁ ਜੀਵਣੁ ਸੋਇ ॥੧॥

Without the Transcendent Lord, what can anyone do? Cursed is his life, and cursed his reputation. ||1||

ਅੰਚਲੁ ਗਹਿ ਕੈ ਸਾਧ ਕਾ ਤਰਣਾ ਇਹੁ ਸੰਸਾਰੁ ॥

Grasping the hem of the robe of the Holy Saint, we cross over the world-ocean.

ਪਾਰਬ੍ਰਹਮੁ ਆਰਾਧੀਐ ਉਧਰੈ ਸਭ ਪਰਵਾਰੁ ॥੨॥

Worship and adore the Supreme Lord God, and all your family will be saved as well. ||2||

ਸਾਜਨੁ ਬੰਧੁ ਸੁਮਿਤ੍ਰੁ ਸੋ ਹਰਿ ਨਾਮੁ ਹਿਰਦੈ ਦੇਇ ॥

He is a companion, a relative, and a good friend of mine, who implants the Lord's Name within my heart.

ਅਉਗਣ ਸਭਿ ਮਿਟਾਇ ਕੈ ਪਰਉਪਕਾਰੁ ਕਰੇਇ ॥੩॥

He washes off all my demerits, and is so generous to me. ||3||

ਮਾਲੁ ਖਜਾਨਾ ਥੇਹੁ ਘਰੁ ਹਰਿ ਕੇ ਚਰਣ ਨਿਧਾਨ ॥

Wealth, treasures, and household are all just ruins; the Lord's Feet are the only treasure.

ਨਾਨਕੁ ਜਾਚਕੁ ਦਰਿ ਤੇਰੈ ਪ੍ਰਭ ਤੁਧਨੋ ਮੰਗੈ ਦਾਨ ॥

Nanak is a beggar standing at Your Door, God; he begs for Your charity. ||4||4||172||

............................................................................................................................................................

Vaheguru!! this shabad is so sweet!! i wanted to use a picture of sugar!

but didn't really find anything that would fit =P

this is sung in that same track (bhinnee rainurreeai)

and because of its beauty i wanted to give a little more attention to it.

that track has so many wonderful shabads....i've bookmarked many of them on STTM and i think the next few gurbani images i make are going to be of them.

=)

and also I had the hardest time ever making this....i think the eye thingy was even easier...and that took me a few hours to figure out!!

The Lysander was the mainstay of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) during World War Two. The Lysander was used to transport SOE operatives to and from occupied Europe - a mission that was fraught with danger - so that they could help resistance movements in western Europe.

The Lysander was ideal for covert work. In an era when planes were flying faster and faster and when people were becoming attuned to this, the Lysander was a slow moving plane, designed for hard work - being able to take off and land in the most difficult of terrain. The Lysander also flew at a low altitude - below radar - which, at night, gave it more ability to 'disappear' from sight.

Some of the most famous SOE operatives were landed by Lysanders - Violette Szabo and the 'White Rabbit. Many flew out of Tangmere airbase in East Sussex. As well as taking in SOE operatives, the Lysander was also used to bring out escaping airmen.

The Lysander had a maximum speed of 206 mph and had a crew of 2. It needed just 250 meters for a take off to 50 feet and it needed just 320 meters for a landing from an altitude of 50 feet. The Lysander was armed in case of attack - two .303 Browning machine guns were fitted into the two wheel spats and some had a Lewis machine gun in the rear cockpit. Along with its human cargo, the Lysander could also carry two supply canisters. To the SOE, the Lysander was known as the 'scarlet pimpernel of the air'.

Amidst the storm's fury, as waves crashed against the jagged rocks and the wind howled its lament, the lighthouse keeper stood watch with a heart heavy with concern. Through the tempest's rage, he strained his eyes to peer through the darkness, his gaze fixed on the tumultuous sea that stretched out before him.

His hands clenched the railing, the salty mist of the sea mingling with his breath. With each sweep of the lighthouse's beam, he searched for any sign of life, any glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. His lantern burned bright, a solitary point of light in the midst of the storm, a guiding beacon for those lost at sea.

In the midst of the crashing waves, he imagined the struggles of those shipwrecked, clinging to flotsam, tossed by the sea's whims. His heart ached with empathy, knowing the desperation that must grip them as they fought against the forces of nature. He understood that their survival might hinge on the light that he kept aflame.

Minutes felt like hours as he scanned the water's expanse, his ears attuned to any sound of distress, his eyes straining to pierce through the rain and darkness. He was more than a lighthouse keeper; he was a guardian of the lost, a keeper of hope.

And then, there it was—a faint glimmer, a speck amidst the turmoil. His heart quickened as he realized he'd found them—a lifeboat, battered but afloat. With urgency coursing through his veins, he signaled the ship's crew, guiding them towards safety with the sweeping arcs of light.

As the lifeboat drew nearer, he could see the faces of the shipwrecked, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and relief. His lantern's glow became their lifeline, a path that led them away from danger and towards the lighthouse's shelter.

With practiced precision, he coordinated their rescue, guiding them past the treacherous rocks and into the shelter of the cove. The storm raged on, but within the embrace of the lighthouse's glow, they were safe.

The lighthouse keeper's duty was more than a job; it was a sacred trust. Through the darkest hours of the night, he stood sentinel, a guardian of both the sea's secrets and its survivors. As the storm subsided and the morning light began to break, the lighthouse keeper's vigilance had not only guided the shipwrecked to safety but had also kindled a flame of hope that would endure in their hearts forever.

In a solitude of the sea

Deep from human vanity,

And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.

Steel chambers, late the pyres

Of her salamandrine fires,

Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.

Over the mirrors meant

To glass the opulent

The sea-worm crawls - grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.

Jewels in joy designed

To ravish the sensuous mind

Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.

Dim moon-eyed fishes near

Gaze at the gilded gear

And query: “What does this vaingloriousness down here?”. . .

Well: while was fashioning

This creature of cleaving wing,

The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything

Prepared a sinister mate

For her - so gaily great -

A Shape of Ice, for the time fat and dissociate.

And as the smart ship grew

In stature, grace, and hue

In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.

Alien they seemed to be:

No mortal eye could see

The intimate welding of their later history.

Or sign that they were bent

By paths coincident

On being anon twin halves of one August event,

Till the Spinner of the Years

Said “Now!” And each one hears,

And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.

Poem by Thomas Hardy

In memory of them all T.P

On October, 31st 2008 I made a decision to dedicate a painting to every person and animal that died in the sinking of RMS Titanic April, 15th 1912. This resulted in a great deal of research and becoming acquainted with many interesting people, who have supported my endeavours. I then realised that people had died during the building of this magnificent ship and decided to add them to my list. In total I painted 1,600 paintings.

I share some of the paintings with you and will be uploading works from this collection to mark the 100th Anniversary of Titanic’s sinking which falls on April 15th 2012.

♫ - Paintings and Music by Sophie Shapiro

Photography by Pryere - Pryere

The royal road of spiritual accompaniment, its alpha and omega, is the cultivation of a contemplative attitude toward the world and one’s own life. Spiritual accompaniment can be of assistance to nobody unless it teaches the practice of inner attunement, the art of detaching oneself from life on the surface and “going deeper,” of achieving free dispassion and detachment, of perceiving and experiencing one’s life from a broader perspective. The mission of the spiritual companion is to say to clients what Jesus said when he first addressed his future disciples: launch out into the deep and wait in silence. But they must also be taught how to do it—to be initiated into the art of contemplation. For only in this way can they find contact with meaning and restore balance and direction in their lives in liminal and crisis situations.

-The Afternoon of Christianity The Courage to Change, Tomáš Halík

“I did not want to think about people. I wanted the trees, the scents and colors, the shifting shadows of the wood, which spoke a language I understood. I wished I could simply disappear in it, live like a bird or a fox through the winter, and leave the things I had glimpsed to resolve themselves without me.”

― Patricia A. McKillip, Winter Rose

Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxGE65pn2vg

THE VOICE – CELTIC WOMAN

Tip-toeing quietly a few steps at a time

I stop and turn slowly; attune my ears

listening for the sounds of movement

as nature's music rises and falls and then I hear

the gentleness of rustling undergrowth and leaves

the long grass parts and there he is

as I walk past the rustic cottage

the rust-colour of his countenance appears

he wends his way freely and easily through the fence

turns every now and then to listen

joined now by his counterpart; a vixen

the two of them look towards me; my forehead glistens

I click a picture; a few frames; I hold my breath

they stop and start and see right to me

my hiding place; my wide-eyed face

I am just as much to them a mystery

they do not appear to be unsettled

just curious and stare in wonder

then hurry through the field and fence

who knows where or what they may plunder

I stand for awhile until I grow too cold

and wander slowly in the opposite direction

in my pocket I squeeze the hand warmer my friend gave me

look down into the pond and see my own reflection

overhead I hear the birds who come to roost

as the sun begins to set and the Wolf Moon rises

the light is perfect; the Moon so pale; the Sun so vivid

opposites attract and I am caught

between two worlds full of surprises

I see another fox much larger than either of those two

he is older and more wary; he has learned the ways of men

so his steps are bolder; stronger as he hurries

he does not even glance my way and then

as quickly as he arrived he's gone

I see him in the distance where

the railway track cuts across the field

he is a hunter; a warrior who has seen many battles

his steps are filled with purpose; he will not yield

I do not worry for him; he is strong and he is wise

it's how we all should evolve throughout our lives

“What doesn't kill us makes us stronger”

that old adage springs to mind

it's true; I know from my own experiences

I too know what to do so I survive

and yet I have a gentleness; a softness to my nature too

and wonder if that wily fox may have the same

perhaps he wears his braveness like a badge of honour

I like to think … “A rose by any other name … “

- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author

Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission

Wish you a lovely weekend, my dear friends <3

Towards the end of March I made another trip to Slimbridge, Gloucestershire.

This pair of Spoonbills were the stars of today for me.

One adult and one Juvenile.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

Towards the end of March I made another trip to Slimbridge, Gloucestershire.

This Juvenile Spoonbill continued to have a flap around.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

#119 Last but not least (119 Pictures in 2019)

Before the coming of the night,

There comes a softening time,

That heralds, then, that soon last light,

An hour so sublime...

When eyes attune to changing hues

And ears hear newmade sounds,

The sun melts when the moon brings news

Of new life that surrounds...

Denis Martindale

... … in parts of the West, wild horses form extended clans. Multiple families or bands join together and accompany each other on the plains. By all outward appearances, they form clans in the spirit of community, but the stallions stay alert and attuned to the horses that they imagine as their competition.

To comprehend his vision of the world, one has to be attuned to the tonality of his feeling, expressed through the metaphors of fire and music he so often used, speaking about a note, a melody, a sound, a rhythm that beat at the heart of the universe—or the spark of fire, the glow, the leaping up of a flame, the blaze of fire that sets alight and consumes....

...The French philosopher Gaston Bachelard devoted a whole study to The Psychoanalysis of Fire, in which he links the vital intensity of fire to the intensity of being, to the whole creative process of the imagination and the work of the poet. “Imagination works at the summit of the mind like a flame,” Bachelard wrote. That is a quotation Teilhard would have loved.

-Christ in All Things: Exploring Spirituality with Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Ursula King

A week later and another trip to Slimbridge on the 1st of April.

A adult Spoonbill by the Tack Piece Lagoon.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

A week later and another trip to Slimbridge on the 1st of April.

A adult Spoonbill flies in to land by the Tack Piece Lagoon.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

As promised, a new set begins today: square-cropped, graphic images from nature. All will have strong design components or dip into the realm of abstraction. Three of the four are macro close ups. I think this kind of visual exploration keeps me sharp and attuned to nature's amazing and limitless variations, and there's great satisfaction in making a decent photo out of "ordinary" subject matter.

I spent the winter and early spring of 2015 on Vancouver Island, dog-sitting and house-sitting while the owners were in Mauritius. They had acres of cleared land and forest; they had a hobby farm that produced kale, garlic, and eggs. When the plants in their flower beds began to flourish in early February, I spent a lot of time there with the tripod and macro lens. Not sure, but I think this leaf may be a Euphorbia species. Doesn't matter. The textures, lines, and colour caught my eye, and the soft, bright natural light was perfect for close up work that day.

Photographed near Sooke, Vancouver Island, BC (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2015 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

A week later and another trip to Slimbridge on the 1st of April.

The Juvenile Spoonbill was putting in a great appearance again as it worked its way along the edge of the Tack Piece Lagoon.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

Towards the end of March I made another trip to Slimbridge, Gloucestershire.

This Juvenile Spoonbill was the star of today for me also.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

great portland street

Towards the end of March I made another trip to Slimbridge, Gloucestershire.

This Juvenile Spoonbill continued to have a flap around.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᶤˢ ᵉᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ˒ ᵉᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ ᶤˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐ

ᴱᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳᵐ˒ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵉᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ

ᵂʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶤˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᶤˢ ᵉᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ˒ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶤˢ ᵉᵐᵖᵗᶤᶰᵉˢˢ ᶤˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐ

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空 Kū or sora, most often translated as "Void", but also meaning "sky" or "Heaven", represents those things beyond our everyday experience, particularly those things composed of pure energy. Bodily, kū represents spirit, thought, and creative energy. It represents our ability to think and to communicate, as well as our creativity. It can also be associated with power, creativity, spontaneity, and inventiveness.

Kū is of particular importance as the highest of the elements. In martial arts, particularly in fictional tales where the fighting discipline is blended with magic or the occult, one often invokes the power of the Void to connect to the quintessential creative energy of the world. A warrior properly attuned to the Void can sense their surroundings and act without thinking, and without using their "physical senses".

Photographed in the Pantanal, Brazil - From a boat, no cover

Please click twice on the image to view it at its largest size

We were fortunate to see 11 jaguars during our time in the Pantanal. Most were seen during daylight hours from a boat but several were seen at night from a safari vehicle and illuminated by a spotlight controlled by our guide. This jaguar was very attuned to something it had already passed and spent several minutes looking back from where it had come.

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From Wikipedia: The jaguar (Panthera onca) is a large cat species and the only living member of the genus Panthera native to the Americas. Its distinctively marked coat features pale yellow to tan colored fur covered by spots that transition to rosettes on the sides, although a melanistic black coat appears in some individuals. The jaguar's powerful bite allows it to pierce the carapaces of turtles and tortoises, and to employ an unusual killing method: it bites directly through the skull of mammalian prey between the ears to deliver a fatal blow to the brain.

Characteristics:

Jaguars are considered to be larger than cougars, and those in South America tend to be heavier than those in Central or North America. Within South America, there are differences for jaguars which are north and south of the Amazon River.

In Guyana, specimens weighing up to 91 kg (201 lb) have been reported. The average for males and females in Venezuela was 95.0 kg (209.4 pounds) and 56.3 kg (124 pounds) respectively, with the latter being similar to that of Central American males in Belize. Venezuelan males and females can otherwise weigh up to 120 kg (260 lb) and 90 kg (200 lb), respectively. Jaguars from Los Llanos in Venezuela, and the Pantanal region of southern Brazil, Bolivia and Paraguay, are the largest of the species. Pantanal jaguars have lengths of about 2.7 m (8.9 ft), and average weights of 94.8 kg (209 lb) for males and 77.7 kg (171 lb) for females. Some individuals weighed more than 135 kg (298 lb).

Habitat and distribution:

See also: Amazon basin, Anavilhanas National Park, and Sangay National Park

In Peru, the jaguar is found in the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve, and Manú National Park. Jaguars disappeared in a number of places, like the Pampas' part of Argentina and Uruguay.

Behavior and ecology:

In South America, the jaguar's prey includes the peccary, capybara, and green anaconda. Sympatric predators include the mountain lion and spectacled bear. Spectacled bears appear to avoid places where the jaguar is present. This suggests predation on the bear by the jaguar.

4F3A4197fFlkr

Himinglæva is a sculpture made of stainless-steel made by Icelandic sculptor Elín Hansdóttir, unveiled in 2022 outside the Harpa concert hall in Reykjavík. It’s a work of art that is not only meant to be seen, but also heard. An “Aeolian harp,” the sculpture is designed to produce sonic overtones as the wind travels through it—although I didn’t perceive any on the blustery day on which I photographed it.

Although it is known in English as ‘Wind Harp’, its Icelandic name of ‘Himinglæva’ comes from Norse mythology, and means “transparent, shining, and small wave.”

In Norse mythology, sailors who sensed the power of the wind and waves around them assumed that the mythical figure Himinglæva was embodying the water and propelling their vessels across the ocean. Alluding metaphorically to this legend, the harp is designed to attune the viewer to the natural forces around them. The shape is based on a Lissajous figure, representing the shape of light beams reflected through vibrating tuning forks. The sounds it produces change based on the force of the wind travelling through it.

Harpa (Icelandic for Harp) is a concert hall and conference centre in Reykjavík, Iceland. The opening concert was held on 4 May 2011. The building features a distinctive colored glass facade inspired by the basalt landscape of Iceland

It was designed by the Danish firm Henning Larsen Architects in co-operation with Danish-Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson. The structure consists of a steel framework clad with geometric shaped glass panels of different colours.

Construction started in 2007 but was halted with the start of the financial crisis. The completion of the structure was uncertain until the government decided in 2008 to fully fund the rest of the construction costs for the half-built concert hall. For several years it was the only construction project in existence in Iceland. The building was given its name on the Day of Icelandic Music on 11 December 2009, prior to which it was called Reykjavík Concert Hall and Conference Centre (Icelandic: Tónlistar- og ráðstefnuhúsið í Reykjavík). The building is the first purpose-built concert hall in Reykjavík and it was developed in consultation with artistic advisor Vladimir Ashkenazy and international consultant Jasper Parrott of HarrisonParrott.[8] It houses the Iceland Symphony Orchestra and the offices of The Icelandic Opera.

In 2013, the building won the European Union's Mies van der Rohe award for contemporary architecture.

The glass façade of the building consists of 714 LED lights, 486 in the eastern part of the building and 228 in the western part. These lights usually display video works designed by Olafur Eliasson, and sometimes other artists

This description incorporates text from the English Wikipedia.

A week later and another trip to Slimbridge on the 1st of April.

A adult Spoonbill by the Tack Piece Lagoon.

Spoonbills are relatively rare breeding birds in the UK, but their numbers are increasing. They are most often found along coastal sites in southern and eastern England. The main stronghold for breeding spoonbills in the UK is Holkham Nature Reserve in Norfolk.

Spoonbills are named after their bizarre spatula-like bill. Generally feeding in flocks, they swing their slightly open beaks from side to side through shallow pools of water. Their remarkable bill is packed full of sensors attuned to the tiniest vibrations, and once located, unlucky beetles, crustaceans, worms, small fish, tadpoles and frogs stand no chance of escape.

Bayeu, a leading painter to the Spanish royal court, offered his clients a sophisticated art attuned to the contemporary taste for elegance and restraint. Dressed for winter, the unidentified man strikes a studied, but fashionable pose. His out coat hangs awkwardly around his hips, distorted by the unseen sword worn on his left side, a sign of status. The suggestion of character is balanced by a certain formality – appropriate for a noble.

I'm entering into a new period of my life. A time of massive exploration and fearless forward momentum. I will not be held back by expectations - of what my art "should" look like, of what it has always been, of who anyone thinks I am. This is a time of curiosity and playfulness, of failure and huge successes. I'm in a place where I feel entirely confident in my abilities - not that I will produce good work, but who needs more good work, anyway? But that I will produce interesting work - new, exciting to me, fulfilling in ways I've not experienced before.

When I found this sewer, I urged my friends to come exploring inside it with me. We walked the length of it in pitch darkness and I could feel the buzz of creative necessity welling in me. I realized then, as I do so, so often, that I'm more attuned to action than a lot of people. My instinct told me to create - to birth into the world something that wasn't there before - but no one else felt that. I feel it all the time, from the tiniest moments of splashing in a puddle to touring grand ballrooms - my gut always tells me to create, to leave my mark, to explore.

I think, after nearly 11 years of creating images, that I've come to terms with this quirk of mine. It is the reason I am difficult to be around and the reason some find it inspiring - because I am always called to passionate action.

Part of my allowed "exercise time" during the lockdown regime I continue my normal routine and make the most of whatever time is left to me. My eyes are especially attuned to every detail now but I now have the same exercise but it just takes longer due to the photo stops!

Günter Müller / Hans Joachim Irmler / A23H

There are two more unreleased live recording special mixes of Taste Tribes, one at Faust-Studio and one by Günter Müller in the archives.

Subterranean Collectives: Taste Tribes and the Entelechy of Sound:

If 7k Oaks openly aligned itself with Joseph Beuys’ “social sculpture,” Taste Tribes may be seen as its more subterranean counterpart—less oriented to ecological symbolism and civic space, more attuned to the cryptic energies of the urban periphery, where graffiti marks the wall and sound marks the ear as parallel inscriptions of collective life. Both ensembles were founded by Alfred 23 Harth in 2007: 7k Oaks in Rome with Massimo Pupillo, Luca Venitucci, and Fabrizio Spera, and Taste Tribes with Hans-Joachim Irmler (Faust) and the Swiss electronic improviser Günter Müller, later joined by Wolfgang Seidel (Eruption). Their emergence corresponded to a moment when Harth, after years in Asia and collaborations in Japan, returned to re-situate himself within European avant-garde traditions—yet not simply to return but to reimagine them through dialogue across generations and geographies.

The very name Taste Tribes emphasizes plurality, nomadism, and the refusal of hierarchy. “Tribes” designates both solidarity and fragmentation—temporary affiliations forged in ritual rather than fixed institutions. Their covers, emblazoned with four graffiti-like figures across both the 2008 and 2023 releases, act as surrogate signatures. Not portraits in any conventional sense, these glyphs instead function as visual analogues of alter-egos, painted marks that echo the very logic of improvised sound: provisional identities traced against a mutable background. Just as graffiti asserts a presence in anonymous public space, the Taste Tribes inscriptions claim the space of sound as a site of ephemeral authorship—collective, corrosive, and resistant to commodification.

Where 7k Oaks invokes Beuys explicitly—through its name, its ecologically charged dedications, and even track titles like Soziale Plastik—Taste Tribes embodies a more veiled articulation of the Goethean–Steinerian–Beuysian lineage. Goethe’s concept of entelechy described the inner formative principle by which the plant “makes itself out of itself”—an organic self-unfolding irreducible to mechanical repetition. Steiner, taking Goethe as the “Copernicus and Kepler of the organic world,” emphasized that Goethe had discovered the hidden laws of living form, just as astronomers had charted the laws of the cosmos. Beuys, inheriting this current of thought, transposed it into the social domain: art, like life, was no longer an object but a vital process; every human action could become sculpture, a force within the living organism of society.

It is precisely at this nexus that Taste Tribes situates itself, though in sound rather than in visual or ecological form. Their improvisations are not “pieces” but processes of emergence, sonic entelechies that unfold from within rather than being imposed from without. Noise-fields, electronic scatterings, the guttural breath of Harth’s reeds, the drone and churn of Irmler’s organ, the digitized flicker of Müller’s electronics—each gesture seems to contain the seed of its own self-determination. Improvisation here is not chaos but a morphology, akin to Goethe’s archetypal leaf, in which variation is the manifestation of a deeper, lawful principle.

In this light, the graffiti-figures that adorn their albums are more than decoration. They may be understood as glyphs of entelechy—graphic correlates to the music’s organic unfolding. Just as Beuys’ “7000 Oaks” made visible the slow work of transformation in the city’s ecological and social landscape, Taste Tribes inscribes transformation sonically: an acoustical “urban forest” grown from noise, feedback, and communal breath. If 7k Oaks plants the tree, Taste Tribes tags the wall—both reimagining art’s place in lived space, one through ecological grafting, the other through acoustic insurgency.

Ultimately, Taste Tribes challenges the listener to hear improvisation not as arbitrary play but as a social and organic law of becoming. Their soundworld exemplifies how the avant-garde, in the wake of Goethe, Steiner, and Beuys, continues to insist on creativity as an irreducible vitality: anarchic yet ordered, ephemeral yet archetypal. By foregrounding ritual over authorship, graffiti-mark over signature, process over object, Taste Tribes demonstrates that in the realm of sound as in life, the most radical art is not constructed—it grows.

Thanks to the Fansproject Crossfire 02 sets, the Combaticons get some updated members as well as a slew of armaments.

Classic looking Swindle and Blast Off take the place of the original cloned molds with more show accurate designs.

Onslaught now transforms into something more attune to his classic anti-aircraft truck. He can also transport Blast Off's drone mode on his trailer.

L-R: Onslaught carrying Blast Off (Explorer), Swindle (Munitioner), Vortex, and Brawl.

Just when you want to focus on one subject only and feel serene about it. Taken this morning from a nearby shoreline that is about to be a a by pass road to Sangley Point in Cavite City, Philippines, my hometown. Thank you for viewing.

Fujifilm XT-1, XF55-200mm 3.5-4.8

iso200, 10 secs, 157mm and 100mm respectively

"The word of the Muad'Dib will penetrate deep within their hearts... one way or another..."

Built for the Burgomeister "R&D Lab" category of DA4, supporting General Farok. The embedded image in the comments meets the A&B criteria of designing LEGO inspired box art.

The research and development lab staff include:

- Master Administrator (main floor); oversees the overall running of the research institute, as well as the data analytics.

- Master of Chemistry (top floor); leads research in spice production, refinement, and weaponized usages. Controls the refining column that rises through the building.

- Master of Resources (in vehicle); procures all resources needed by the lab. Also the primary driver of the desert track ATV stored in the bottom level. The grand staircase in front of the building lifts up for the vehicle to pass through.

- Master of Arms (bottom level); tests all weapons for combat worthiness.

- Master of Communications (bottom level with headset); researches sonic weapons, specifically attuned to the "weirding way".