I’ve become so attuned to seeking out ghost signs and where they are usually situated I walked past a place where I’ve walked past dozens of times and thought I’d look up to see if there was a sign on the side of the wall and eureka! there it is.

 

I can only make out the words David

Ladies

Tailor

 

Research is so far isolated to a button maker Albert Ernest Barber (A. E. Barber) moved his business to 438 Sydney Road, Coburg in 1935. By 1942 he had moved down the road to 694 Sydney Road, Brunswick.

In the heart of the city, nestled within the labyrinthine alleys, there stood a small, inconspicuous bar known as "The Good Bar." Its dimly lit interior and vintage decor drew patrons seeking refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Yet, beneath the guise of a quaint local haunt, a female vampire named Quinn found her hunting ground.

 

Quinn was a creature of the night, blessed with timeless beauty and cursed with an insatiable thirst for blood. Her auburn hair framed her porcelain skin, and her green eyes shone with a predatory glint. Over the centuries, she had perfected the art of blending in with humans, masking her true nature with a veneer of charm and grace.

 

Each night, she prowled the city, her senses attuned to the whispers of the night. The Good Bar was her preferred hunting ground, a place where loneliness and desperation mingled in the air, making it easy to find willing prey. She would slip inside, her presence unnoticed as she moved among the patrons, her crimson lips curling into a seductive smile.

 

On one fateful evening, Quinn’s gaze landed on an appearing lonely soul named Benjamin, nursing his whiskey at the far end of the bar. He had the melancholic aura she craved—a soul ripe for her taking. With the grace of a siren, she approached him, her voice like honey as she struck up a conversation. As they conversed, she could tell there was something different about him even if she couldn’t quite place what it was, and she could sense his watchful eyes upon her. Benjamin, readily engaged in conversation. They shared stories and laughter, his guard appearing to lower with each passing minute. As the night wore on, the more they spoke, the more intrigued Quinn became. His knowledge of the occult and the supernatural fascinated her, making her question the danger she might be inviting. With a gentle touch, Quinn whispered in his ear, "Would you like to see something truly extraordinary?" Benjamin nodded eagerly and taking his hand she led him out of the bar, their footsteps echoing in the deserted alleyways as they made their way to her apartment building. As they approached her apartment door, the anticipation hung in the air like an electric charge. The tension grew palpable as Quinn reached for the doorknob. Benjamin watched her every move.

 

As the door creaked open, revealing the enigmatic world within…

  

**Wrote by Harper Blackwood

 

Halfling Wizard:

 

By nature, Halflings are not overly attune to the delicate and intricate art of magic and spell-crafting. They lack the finer and delicate touches of other races, like the elves. They consider most forms of magic to be evil witchcraft or vile necromancies, and only accept magics of healing and growth.

 

However, there are a selective few of this short folk that express the effects of magic in their everyday lives. A young halfling may, on the whim of a thought, cause a pumpkin to triple in size in the span of an afternoon. An old weaver may absentmindedly knit an entire sweater without even touching the needles. Commonly, other halflings treat these individuals with reservations and, on rare cases, fear.

 

During the rare occasions where the Folk of The Green muster for war, the services of a Halfling Wizard are greatly accepted. They lope along the battle line on stout ponies, tending to the wounded with simple healing spells or caste spells that grow food at a rapid pace.

 

During the heat of combat, these wizened and eccentric old fellows bravely charge into the fray. They unleash spells of growth that sprout thick vines that wrap around the enemy, entrapping them in place so that the Halfling militias can do their grizzly work. Although considered loonies by their fellows, Halfling Wizards are a valuable in times of war.

R&D Center A&B - the LEGO inspired box art parody (not a real set. sorry folks)

 

"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".

I'm starting to venture a little further from home and picking up a camera again. Here, we visited a garden center to look for Hostas and came across three ladies tucked into the shadows among the flowers with easel and water colors in hand. It was such a tranquil scene. The name of the garden center was Earth Bound and this lady, as finely attuned to her surroundings as only an artist could be, certainly fit into that theme. She graciously gave me permission to take the photo.

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

 

This adult Spoonbill was resting by the side 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.

In the Badlands, I wandered with the lens of my iPhone and the openness of my eyes. The Canon, with all its weight and options, stayed tucked away more than it was used, a silent witness to the simplicity I sought. Without the careful framing and the pull of familiar routines, I found myself softer, more attuned to the raw and unfiltered rhythms around me. A phone in hand became a way to sense and respond in real-time, a gentle reminder that creativity is a kind of listening - to the wind, the light, and the wide, unguarded land. Sometimes the heart’s instinct for beauty does not need the heavy glass of a lens to find what it seeks.

 

There’s something stirring about looking at the world without an expectation, about seeing it through new eyes. Creativity, I think, is a space to wander, to reach without overthinking. When we fall into habits, it becomes easy to lose that first rush of wonder, that raw encounter. Perhaps we create best not by reaching for familiar tools, but by allowing ourselves to become the tool, to simply be the vessel for whatever wants to take shape. The Badlands offered that - stripped down, elemental, and whole - reminding me that art lives in our willingness to see, not just in what we use to capture.

 

There’s a quiet joy in meandering, in wandering through the fullness of the world without expectations or routines. Creativity doesn’t ask for a strict recipe; it only asks that we let go, breathe, and let the world shape itself across our senses. I need to carry that reminder forward - the ease of seeing as enough, the gentle freedom of simply being present, without the need to control or perfect.

.....’Tis all wrong every bit indeed.

Well! to your judgment I must bow

Freely it’s exercise allow

You perhaps to such are more inured.

Your notions may be more endured

But whether it be or be not so

You can afford to let this go

For nought as nothing it explains

And nothing from nothing nothing gains....

 

Words by Richard Dadd, Broadmoor, Jan 1865

 

In remembrance of Richard Dadd - English Painter of the Victorian era, noted for his depictions of fairies and other supernatural subjects.

 

"There’s a haunted stillness in your rendering of him, an emotional resonance that feels deeply attuned to who he was, or at least who he became in that long, inner exile of the asylum years. The intensity in his eyes, the hollowing around the face, the almost spectral quality of the palette, it all evokes not just the man, but the mind behind The Fairy Feller’s Master-Stroke. You’ve captured a kind of psychic pressure, as though he’s suspended between visionary insight and isolation.

It’s not just a likeness, it’s a psychological portrait. And that feels very much in conversation with the kind of art Dadd himself was making: layered, inward, difficult, utterly original. You’ve honoured him in a way that avoids romanticising or sanitising. There’s dignity in how you see him, but also a clear-eyed acknowledgement of the cost of his genius.

Honestly, it’s a moving piece. And it feels like part of the same lifelong engagement you described earlier, the long stare into that painting that, in a way, stared back and shaped you. This portrait feels like you giving something back to Dadd. A recognition. A gesture of witness. - Review by B.I."

 

for Flickriver - Sophie Shapiro

.

  

‪#‎smalltowninertia‬ Visited with David today. We had a lot to discuss and a few chores that needed taking care of, so whilst my partner, Laura, mowed his back lawn, David and I, talked through a long list of ideas of what might be embraced and embarked upon to make his life better and we’ll all be putting those ideas into action from next week.

 

I’m busy researching more devices that will enable David to have more freedom, including a new telephone, walking aids and safety devices to ensure his house is attuned to his blindness as possible and will work out ways to fund raise for any new items he will require.

 

I’ll also be making a list of all local, available charities that offer support to blind members of the community and reporting back to David with all the information, so he might be better informed and make the right decision, for himself.

 

One priority today, was to take over a voice recording of his late mother, Eugene, for him to listen to. David had not heard her voice since she passed away.

 

Upon first listen, David could not recognise Eugene from the recording.

 

Again we listened, and again, and again.

 

Then, slowly, when and where I feared tears would come, upon remembering and realising it was his mothers voice, David’s smile, as wondrous as sunrise, lit up his face.

 

The memory awoke, the day of recording recollected. A cold December afternoon, a few months after David had first been released from hospital and returned home after the accident, that had so brutally robbed him, of his sight.

 

This afternoon, we were as much back within that day, as Eugene was with us again, today. As we listened to her voice, a lilting old Norfolk accent, as gentle in tone as intent, Eugene’s words, Eugene’s voice, once again reaching out and having her son smile.

 

Full story update coming soon.

 

smalltowninertia.co.uk

The contemplative gesture is deeply rooted in our heart and in our longing for universal harmony. Through the ages humans have longingly looked up to the harmony and order of the starry universe, attuning their heartbeat to its measured movement....

 

... To measure one’s step by a universal rhythm and thus to bring one’s life into harmony with a universal order—this is contemplatio in our tradition...

 

... St. Benedict, the patriarch of Western monks, wants them to live apertis oculis and attonitis auribus, with open eyes, and with ears so alert that the silence of God’s presence sounds like thunder. This is why a Benedictine monastery is to be a schola Dominici servitii, a school in which one learns to attune oneself to ultimate order...

 

... But such an order means nothing rigid. That would be the great danger, that would be the trap into which one could fall, to conceive of ultimate order as static. On the contrary, it is profoundly dynamic; the only image that we can ultimately find for this order is the dance of the spheres. What we are invited to do, what we are to learn in the monastery, professionally, is to listen to that tune, to attune ourselves to that harmony to which the whole universe dances.

-The way of silence : engaging the sacred in daily life / Brother David Steindl-Rast

This ex Leeds City Transport Roe bodied AEC Swift has been with us at work for some considerable time. Its long term restoration recently progressed to the point of being able making its first journey under its own power on the road proper in many years.

All the 691 powered beast has done in the intervening years is to be started up, shunted about, be turned round and be left ticking over for short periods.

AUB 170Js first 100 yards in anger therefore, were accompanied by huge quantities of blue/grey smoke. I'd driven it with two feet on purpose, one on the brake and t'other on the accelarator in the hope of burning it out before we reached more sensitive parts of the outside world. That short distance told me that we needed to repeat the process so I reversed (with two foot control) and then advanced again. There was a sufficient clearing of the smoke to encourage continuing up the road, and by about 750 yards, things weren't too bad. People (and worse, motorists with dash-cams) are finely attuned to vehicles which smoke nowadays!

By the roundabout a little further on I was sufficiently pleased to attempt a 'real' road. We then set off full bore on our usual short test route. A hundred yards further on and there was a thumping bang and a sound similar to that you'd expect from say a wheel-arch falling out, being run over and then dragged along. Looking in the mirror there was a volcanic sheet of smoke and flame eminating from the exhaust and alarmed motorists and pedestrians looking on with fear. A few seconds later the smoke aspect subdued a little and we were merely doing an impression of The Batmobile. I then stopped the engine and waited incase I had an idea. After about a minute of pondering and staring at my foreman who was also present, it was decided we should attempt a re-start. This was accomplished and we moved off again. Thereafter the exhaust was clean as the proverbial whistle and the bus behaved impeccably! Next stop the paint shop and LCT colours.

"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".

2024-09-12, Day 6

Willow and Balsam Poplar (Populous balsamifera) are interspersed to weave a tapestry of gold that is draped over the landscape, gathering in depth where it crowds the stream bank, Kluane National Park, Yukon.

 

Descending from Atlas Pass, the vegetation begins sparsely and with low stature. These are plants clinging to survival at the limits of their physiological tolerances to whatever chemical challenge is brewed by the local soil minerals and microbes. Moving downslope along the cut of the creek, the soil layers thicken over a mile or so, and the willows and poplar respond in kind, growing in stature and density. In autumn, the land erupts with giddy, irresponsible colour.

 

A little upstream we sat for a spell amongst the golden leaves and brewed a pot of tea. And then we found some biscuits and cheese in the food bags. In this location, all of these things seemed precious. On some level, I was reminded of Peregrine Took.

 

We had not crossed paths with another human being for almost four days. Over the past several days, we had crossed paths with what was likely 4 or 5 Grizzly Bears, 80 or so Dall Sheep, uncountable Ptarmigan, a hunting fox, and fresh tracks from caribou, wolves, and moose. It is hard to describe the heightened sense of awareness one finds oneself cultivating under these circumstances. With a group size of two, one feels the need to move with antennae attuned to signs of company.

 

The map and route description suggested that a half-mile or so downstream from where this photo was made, we might find a game path leaving the creek bed on the right. This path might then be followed to a meadow with good camp sites. It would then be necessary to walk upstream along the Duke River and look for a shallow enough reach that could be forded safely on foot. But these latter tasks would arrive on the morrow. Meanwhile, the irregular chuckling vocalizations of the Willow Ptarmigan erupted from the bushes at intervals.

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

Danger lurks within the mysterious black holes of Battle River. But these cubs and their mother are very attuned to what may emerge at any moment. They smell it before it ever becomes visible. In this case, it was another bear and this mom and cubs hightailed it away and up onto the tundra.

MOONLIGHT (by Iswurdeo Soborun, Switzerland)

 

Blue lights have garmented Heaven.

Yellow lights have clothed the Earth.

Under the ceiling of the sky

Clouds moving slowly, not to disturb

Nature from sleeping.

Lovers whispering in the ears of each other.

Great thinkers writing words of their minds.

Lakes and seas have attuned their waves

Not to disturb their inhabitants.

Flowers are breathing the gentle breeze of the night.

Valleys speaking to the mountains,

Cities, Towns and Villages are crowned

With the golden lights of the moon.

Caressing Nature with its gentle lights.

  

Explore: 7-13-09 (Front Page)

 

This is a shot looking west on Euclid Avenue in Downtown Cleveland (Ohio). Euclid Avenue is Downtown Cleveland's main street. It is currently being transformed by the Euclid Corridor Redevelopment Project, which runs from Downtown east to the University Circle Area. Link: www.euclidtransit.org/home.asp

 

The wrought iron fence you see in this photograph is in front of the old Union Club, which is a private club where once (and still to come degree) the City's rich, famous and most powerful men dined and drank. Who knows what business, civic and personal "deals" were cut in the dark corners of this club in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Union Club was once an icon for Cleveland's wealthy and powerful elite. The club has changed in recent years to attune to newer, more open economic and social realities. (Best seen in large size view.)

 

Union Club history: www.theunionclub.org/visitors/History.asp

Part III of my Star Wars projekt.

Thanks to Vauban for all the metal parts.

 

roguebricks.de/forum/index.php?thread/1117-j%C3%BCngling-...

 

I have the idea to build Ilum from the Dark Times group. A very cool RPG.

 

Jedi younglings, also known as Jedi initiates, were Force-sensitive children recruited by the Jedi Order from various species across the galaxy. At an early age they began their initial lessons in the Jedi arts at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, although their training also extended to the planet Ilum where younglings were required to undergo a sacred rite of passage known as the Gathering where the younglings would claim their Kyber crystal to use in their lightsaber. Before the time came for a youngling to advance to a higher degree of education, Grand Master Yoda served as an instructor in the ways of the Force to all younglings in the course of his long career. In order to qualify for the rank of Padawan, younglings had to complete a series of tests—the Initiate Trials—in order to become apprenticed to more experienced Jedi such as Knights and Masters.

 

starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jedi_youngling

 

The Gathering was a rite of passage of the Jedi Order meant as a lesson to teach a youngling how to overcome their own personal fears or failings and to find a kyber crystal attuned to their Force-presence in the Crystal Caves of Ilum. Upon retrieving the crystal, the youngling began the process of constructing his or her lightsaber, under the guidance of Professor Huyang.

 

starwars.wikia.com/wiki/The_Gathering

From a thousand meters above the fjord, the world unfurls in layers — contours of shadow and suggestion, mountains dissolving into one another like ink bleeding into damp paper. Early September in Lofoten holds the atmosphere in a delicate tension, a place where the boundaries between elements thin out, as if the world itself is hesitant to commit to a single form.

 

Light spills through fractures in the sky — not boldly, but with the cautious grace of something rare and fleeting. It touches the fjord’s surface briefly, etching veins of molten silver onto the water’s skin before retreating. Below, the fjord absorbs this transient glow, cradling it gently before folding it back into the blue, the gray, the deepening dusk.

 

Clouds hover, dense and restless, their bellies full of withheld rain. They billow and scatter, then gather again, like thoughts just beyond the edge of articulation. Thunder waits somewhere behind the ridges, its presence more felt than heard, a low pressure pushing against the back of your mind. Curtains of rain descend in delicate vertical strokes, erasing and redrawing the peaks in a rhythm too subtle to measure.

 

The mountains stand there, neither resisting nor yielding — outlines of an ancient geometry, their edges smudged by mist and movement. They are not guardians, not sentinels, but something more elusive: participants in an exchange of light and shadow, stillness and upheaval. Their faces are not worn; they are perpetually rewritten by rain, wind, and the brief caress of sun.

 

And you, standing within this shifting cartography of light, feel like an afterthought — a presence so small it barely registers. There is no narrative here, only a slow, ceaseless negotiation between the elements. The fjord does not shimmer for you; the sky does not rage at you. They exist in a dialogue older and deeper than perception, a dialogue that pauses now and then to let the sun slip through, to let the rain speak in hushed syllables.

 

As the storm rolls in, the light’s retreat feels neither victory nor defeat. It is simply the next movement in this symphony of becoming — a reminder that the world is never static. The beauty is not in the sun or the rain, but in the trembling edge where they meet, hesitate, and move on.

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

In this place where light hesitates and shadows breathe, there lies a world seen through eyes attuned to the fleeting — where each moment is a delicate revelation.

 

To explore more of these shifting landscapes, where images and words weave together to unveil the subtle conversations of nature, follow the path to the artist and writer’s sanctuary at www.coronaviking.com. Here, each frame and each phrase offer a quiet invitation to witness, to wonder, and to wander.

 

This was also taken at the northeast corner of Broadway and 96th St. It's one of a sequence of shots that I took hurriedly when I saw a flash of bare skin out of the corner of my eye (guys are attuned to that sort of thing, for better or worse).

 

Like I said in the previous photo, this is a typical scene during the rush-hour period between 5-7 PM at the intersection of Broadway and 96th.

 

I think these people were headed for the IRT subway station right in front of them ... and maybe that's why they were so happy.

 

Or maybe the woman on the left was telling a really funny joke about Donald Trump and his hair ... that would be enough to make anyone laugh!

 

Note: I chose this as my "photo of the day" for Jul 6, 2015.

 

**************************

 

This is a continuation of a Flickr set that I started in the summer of 2009, and continued in 2010 (in this Flickr set), 2011 (in this Flickr set), 2012 (in this Flickr set), and 2013 (in this Flickr set). As I noted in those earlier sets of photos, I still have many parts of New York City left to explore -- but I've also realized that I don't always have to go looking elsewhere for interesting photographs. Some of it is available just outside my front door.

 

I live on a street corner on the Upper West Side of Manhattan where there's an express stop on the IRT subway line, as well as a crosstown bus stop, an entrance to the West Side Highway, and the usual range of banks, delis, grocery stores, mobile-phone stores, drug-stores, McDonald’s, Two Boots Pizza, Dunkin' Donuts, Starbucks, Subway, 7-11, and other commercial enterprises. As a result, there are lots of interesting people moving past my apartment building, all day and all night long.

 

It's easy to find an unobtrusive spot on the edge of the median strip separating the east side of Broadway from the west side; nobody pays any attention to me as they cross the street from east to west, and nobody even looks in my direction as they cross from north to south (or vice versa). In rainy weather, sometimes I huddle under an awning of the T-Mobile phone store on the corner, so I can take pictures of people under their umbrellas, without getting my camera and myself soaking wet...

 

So, these are some of the people I thought were photo-worthy during the past few weeks and months; I'll add more to the collection as the year progresses ... unless, of course, other parts of New York City turn out to be more compelling from time to time.

of course, odin is oblivious that he's celebrating my thirty third birthday, and it would appear that his pudgy baby belly is far more interesting to him than my rapidly advancing age !

 

he's getting very attuned to his body and lately has quite a fun time pushing and pulling and tugging at whatever might be at hand :-)

 

i'm not making this up - he did surprise us by giving me the bestest birthday present a father could ask for.

 

today he said, "dada" for the very first time ( much to mamma's chagrin )!

  

" These months, no matter how far she walked, always led her back to the same place, like a maze."

 

www.flickr.com/photos/161478161@N05/53365576988

 

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. . . Femdom Tale . . .

 

Chapter: A Journey Through Solitude

 

Perhaps she appeared confused, wondering if there was anyone willing to lend an ear to her stories. The few houses that remain standing often exude a sense of emptiness, as if no home exists, akin to managing a vast empire. It's a hell of pain.

 

Observing others effortlessly connect and understand each other can evoke... Why does my heart feel alone even with a lover around? Despite being attuned to signs, feeling like a solitary figure with no one who truly comprehends.

 

No matter how much love is bestowed upon her, she encounters high, invisible walls, enclosing her heart until it turns numb and cold, as if belonging to a heartless soul.

 

Unfathomable events unfold, and despite relentless efforts, problems accumulate, seemingly insurmountable over a decade of trials and tribulations, through countless seasons and crossroads, yet yielding no answers.

 

Walking hand in hand, followers tread her path, yet the journey feels solitary, his grip tighter and warmer, but the emptiness deepens, unable to appreciate a thing. Despite the abundance of love and care, the absence of understanding renders her heart achingly lonely. Even with wedding certificates, rings, and all his efforts, she still feels single as hell.

 

Ultimately, the realization dawns that it's not love and extreme romance beyond dreams she craves, but rather companionship, understanding, and guidance. Ten rainy seasons, ten winters pass, leaving her disheartened as the 11th year begins, hoping to unravel the maze and find solace in understanding and resolution, with the hope that the invisible high walls will disappear someday with the right one.

 

ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ

 

He knelt, took her hand, and placed it gently on his head. He looked up, tears glistening in her eyes. 'All this love, goodwill, care, life, sacrifice—everything that every soul yearns for is right here, laid bare for you to embrace, to become whole. I want you to feel the warmth of this happiness, just a fraction of what lies before us. Your heart wouldn't ache like this!'

 

S: "But,... I'd rather endure the pain than accept these gestures from those who fail to understand me, you don't understand, being loved by someone who doesn't truly understand me...it hurts more than being alone. she continued. 'Take it all back, I don't want all this attention, these women chasing after you. It may be a dream for some, may hold value for those women, but not for me. I only desire what fills this void, I yearn for something deeper, something that chases away this emptiness and coldness of heart.' 'If you can't offer the understanding I crave,' she said sadly, 'Then perhaps we've reached our limit. No matter how strong our bond, it's futile. I still feel alone, day by day, as if without a partner. It offers no solace at all.'

 

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Channel Pickering Townsley (1867-1921)

Oil on board

Signed lower left: Townsley; titled and variously inscribed in pencil, presumably in another hand, verso

10" H x 14" W

  

Provenance:

Gifted to the Los Angeles Municipal Arts Commission, November 1937, by Elizabeth Black, Esther G. Beekman, and E. H. Moorhouse. Inscription on reverse misidentifies scene as “Brest, France.”

Exhibition: Likely shown or retained in association with the 1912 William Merritt Chase European Summer School, which Townsley helped organize.

 

📷 Subject and Setting

 

The painting depicts a tranquil canal view in Bruges, Belgium, looking south along the Bakkersrei, a narrow offshoot of the Reie River. At mid-distance stands the Beguinage Bridge (Dutch: Begijnhofbrug), a modest yet elegant triple-arched span of pale stone. Rising beyond it, softened by humid summer haze, is the soaring brick tower of the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk (Church of Our Lady), whose construction spanned from the 13th to late 15th centuries and whose spire—at 115.5 meters—is one of the tallest in Europe.

 

The waterway, calm and reflective, occupies nearly half the vertical composition. On the right, trees press in with lush foliage, richly textured and layered in emerald, viridian, and umber. At left, built façades emerge—modulated by warm reds and muted ochres—set back from the water behind a low quay. Architectural details are handled economically: Townsley is concerned with rhythm, atmosphere, and tonal unity, not draftsmanship.

 

Stylistic and Formal Assessment

 

This painting is a superb example of late-plein-air tonal Impressionism, executed by a technically confident painter at the height of his observational acuity. Townsley applies oil in short, firm, loaded strokes, sometimes impastoed, creating a surface alive with optical vibration. The palette is muted but not subdued—greens and browns dominate, offset by pale sky, mirrored water, and vermilion notes in brick.

 

Key compositional choices:

 

The bridge arches are rhythmically spaced and anchored by vertical reflections.

 

The spike of the spire bisects the canvas subtly off-center, lending balance and verticality.

 

The eye is invited inward by the water’s diagonal recession and the foliage’s embrace—this is a painting about depth and enclosure.

 

There is no overt anecdotal or figural content, a hallmark of Chase-influenced plein air painting: mood and place supersede narrative. This work resonates tonally with pieces by Childe Hassam, Edmund Greacen, or early Guy Wiggins—American Impressionists influenced by both French plein air work and Chase’s teachings.

 

Contextual and Artistic Significance

 

Painted during the summer of 1912, this piece is tied directly to Townsley’s role as co-director and administrative organizer of the William Merritt Chase Summer Art School in Belgium, headquartered that year in Bruges. A listing in The International Studio confirms Townsley was accepting applications and facilitating the program, and thus would have spent the season immersed in the city's architectural and atmospheric riches.

 

This places the painting at a particularly rich junction in his career:

 

Post-London: Having worked earlier as co-director of the London School of Art alongside Frank Brangwyn, Townsley was by 1912 a seasoned educator with a cosmopolitan eye.

 

Pre-Pasadena: His later period would be rooted more deeply in Southern California, especially around the Stickney Memorial Art School in Pasadena and the California Impressionist scene. This Bruges work stands at a midpoint between European refinement and the plein air boldness of the American West.

 

The choice of Bruges itself speaks volumes: a city that offered atmospheric richness, Gothic silhouette, and light modulated by water and weather. It was an ideal subject for a painter invested in depth, tonality, and quiet monumentality.

 

Conclusion: Place in Townsley’s Oeuvre and the Broader Movement

 

This painting represents:

 

One of the clearest surviving links between Townsley and the European summer sessions of the Chase circle, and

 

A rare plein air work with a precisely datable location and moment in Townsley’s career.

 

Its formal restraint and tonal sophistication show a mature artist fluent in the aesthetics of American Impressionism, yet still deeply attuned to European architectural harmony and northern light. As such, it belongs to the final flowering of transatlantic plein air painting before the First World War disrupted many of these itinerant communities.

 

In summary, this painting is not just a refined canal view. It is:

 

A document of American expatriate pedagogy,

 

A record of Chase’s legacy through his students and collaborators, and

 

A meditative, painterly evocation of Bruges at the edge of modernity—caught in reflection just before the world changed.

 

This text is a collaboration with ChatGPT.

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.

  

Explored 16-05-2025

“An androgynous mind was not a male mind. It was a mind attuned to the full range of human experience, including the invisible lives of women.”

― Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

While my wife was at the Arizona Bar Association Conference in Coronado, I took a photo trip to the San Diego Japanese Friendship Garden.

 

Japanese Friendship Garden Brochure

Koi Pond - Our koi are considered show-quality and have been hand-selected kept weekly by the Koi Club of San Diego. Koi are considered symbols of longevity with the oldest recorded being 226 years old.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koi

 

www.niwa.org/

The mission of the Japanese Friendship Garden Society of San Diego (JFG) is to develop a traditional Japanese garden as a center to educate, engage, and inspire people of diverse backgrounds about Japanese culture and community legacy.

 

JFG is an accredited museum that offers a variety of educational programs, exhibits, and cultural festivals to enhance appreciation and understanding of Japanese culture. Over 330,000 visitors from the United States and internationally attend the garden annually. JFG opened to the public in 1991 and is an expression of friendship between San Diego and its sister city, Yokohama. The garden is inspired from centuries-old Japanese design and techniques that showcase JFG’s living exhibition comprised of plants and florae native to Japan and San Diego. The second phase opened in 1999 and was designed by renowned landscape architect Takeo Uesugi, which included the addition of the Exhibit Hall, Activity Center, and Upper Koi Pond. The third phase, completed in 2015, incorporated a 200 cherry tree grove, large azalea and camellia garden, a water feature reminiscent of the San Diego watershed, and the state of the art Inamori Pavilion. Today, JFG resides on 12 acres and fosters a relationship between humans and nature, providing a respite attuned to Japanese simplicity, serenity, and aestheticism.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_Friendship_Garden_(Balboa_Park)

View On Black

 

While others chant of gay Elysian scenes,

Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow'ry plains,

My song more happy speaks a greater name,

Feels higher motives and a nobler flame.

For thee, O R-----, the muse attunes her strings,

And mounts sublime above inferior things.

I sing not now of green embow'ring woods,

I sing not now the daughters of the floods,

I sing not of the storms o'er ocean driv'n,

And how they howl'd along the waste of heav'n.

But I to R----- would paint the British shore,

And vast Atlantic, not untry'd before:

Thy life impair'd commands thee to arise,

Leave these bleak regions and inclement skies,

Where chilling winds return the winter past,

And nature shudders at the furious blast.

 

Phillis Wheatley

I You were tagged by me please see why in the comments Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)

The alternate version of Chronicles of lifting Light B ( Bridesmaids) - Album

 

“The wedding was a little over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honor wore a red silk version; the six Bridesmaids wore theirs in black satin.”

 

“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. Ginny pointed out to me a model who was wearing fetchingly a long black satin gown, That’s m’ gown Ginny exclaimed, you remember, the one I wore at “Sheila’s” wedding, the one where my necklace was.., But at that point her attention was diverted back to her program. Squirrel I teased as Sam and I watched with her.

 

It was a gown strikingly very similar in colour, cut, and material to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at a chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny sporting it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would never encounter…….”

 

Chronicles of lifting Light C

*************************************** **************************************** *****

This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened.

What we did may sound daft, but read and understand the circumstances, plus realize we all were pretty well lit up with drink.

 

I have enhanced certain aspects of the story, but not as much as on my first draft, for that one came out sounding more farfetched than it should have.

 

For indeed, truth can be stranger than fiction… and coincidences occur, both sweet and bitter….. as I’m sure someone once said.

 

So here goes it….

 

My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed, not unwillingly, into service.

 

At the reception my Ginny made a comment about the flimsy clasps on the rhinestone jewelry they were wearing. My Sister, touched her necklace, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. Except my ring isn’t, said Ginny looking down at the ruby ring she was wearing on her pinky. My sister, thinking a minute, retorted “Then one never knows… “ , It looked like she was going to add something, but at that point the band restarted, and we joined the swarm of fancy gowns, silky dresses, suits and tuxes heading to the dance floor.

 

As we headed off, I was still perplexed about what had been going on in Sis’s head that made her come out with that reply, and I swear she had stolen a look at me while saying it. But as I had watched her pull at an earring to emphasize how loose the sparkling jewel was, a seed was planted in my head about a subject I myself had always found fascinating, pickpocketing jewelry!

 

Much later that evening, found Brian, me sister, and I alone, and probably more than a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). As Sis and Brain chatted on about a topic I had lost interest in, I started to watch Ginny, who had been asked to dance by some twit with shifty eyes in a red silk shirt, (open colored), who had rudely cut in on us. As I watched Ginny’s swishing gown move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the manner in which her healthy display of rhinestones were sparkling about( as they had been all evening). I looked back at my sister, and her own show of jewelry, sparkling up nicely against a black satin backdrop.

 

Still not being able to shake me twin’s earlier comment, nor its answer, out of my head about nicking jewels, I finally chanced asking my twin about her comments. She looked at me, having to think back a bit about the question, ( As I said, we were more drunk than sober by then), placing a nicely ringed finger to her lips, while regrouping her thoughts. Got it, she exclaimed proudly remembering what had triggered her memory, and started to explain.

 

When she was a tyke of about 7, there was a show that she had seen on the tele that centered on this group of people trying to reform a thief. Believing that he had turned a new leaf, they threw a fancy dance for him in honor of his new ways. During the dance, he cut in and danced with each of the three ladies who had been trying to teach him the errors of his ways. From one he slipped off her long diamond earrings, from a second her diamond necklace was lifted away, but me sister was unsure what the scoundrel took from the third. Sis thought that the earrings and necklaces that she and Ginny were wearing that evening, looked a lot like the ones from that show.

  

Now, as me twin described the thief’s antics, certain emotions awakened, rearing their tantalizing heads; my mind began wandering in some deep waters, pulled bout by some deep personal emotions. Cause I had been sitting on the couch with her, when as quite young children, we had first seen that episode.

 

As it happened my sister had been outside earlier playing dress up in on of mum’s old party gowns and was still wearing it, along with a set of costume pearls. Suddenly, that day, I wanted nothing more in the world than to lift the pearls she was wearing. I simmered over it for the rest of the program, getting to the point of actually laying my arm on the back of the couch, inching my fingers towards the clasp of her pearls laying there upon the back of her throat. But then the show ended, and I got no closer to stealing anything more than a touch of a really soft old evening gown. After the show ended, I warily suggested we go back outside and play Robin Hood (my sister has always been into his story).

We did, and as Sir Robin led her to his hideout, conveniently located through a thicket of Hawthorne’s, the pretty Maid Marion’s pearls mysteriously melted away.

  

That is when I had I had my epiphany, hitting me like a brick wall! Waiting till sis finished her story, I pointed out to Ginny, and asked the pair, If Ginny had been the third lady he had danced with, what jewelry do you think he would have lifted from her while dancing?

  

Brian , always the more pragmatic of the group, snorted, that’s stuff that only happens in stories and movies. I said I would bet it can be done, a quid says I can lift a piece of Ginny’s jewelry with her never noticing. Sis chimed in, you wouldn’t dare, but she was looking at me like she knew the answer already. Brian caught her tone, and took me up on it, betting me the quid that I couldn’t get away with lifting her necklace,( I liked his choice, it had been a necklace that “Sir Robin” had first lifted from me sisters neck that day in the woods long past).

  

At this time the music ended, and Ginny swished back to rejoin us. We drank and talked for a bit more, and I’m was all but certain Brian and my sister had all but forgotten the wager. But I hadn’t, nor had I been able to keep my eyes from studying the rhinestones Ginny had wrapped around her pretty throat. When a slow song started up, I rose and asked Ginny to a dance. I caught Brian’s eyes, and read the dare reflecting in them, so we were still on with the wager. Leading Ginny to the dance floor, we embraced, and danced to the pretty song, a slow one. Ginny was absolute pure heaven in my arms, and I found me self so entrapped that I never made an attempt upon her lovely rhinestone necklace.

  

As the song was ending, I caught a look from Brian across the dance floor, noticing that he smugly was looked at Ginny’s throat. I did not want to lose me quid on principle (I swear), so as the dance ended I held onto Ginny, waiting. Soon a second song started, disappointedly a more fast paced one with a Latin beat. I spun Ginny around onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath, we danced, like the song says:

 

And we… danced like a wave on the ocean, romanced

We were liars in love and we danced

Swept away for a moment by chance

And we danced, danced, danced

 

And dance we did, hot, furious and fast. A couple of times I spun Ginny around, and the poor girl already a bit tipsy, fell against me, giggling. About the third time I spun her, she stopped, and dropped backside into me and began to do this sort of gyrating move, slithering up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head, her longish ginger hair had fallen over one shoulder, exposing her necklace in all its fine brilliance. As her warm, sweaty figure slipped up and down against mine, I watched the back of her throat, eyeing the necklace as it sparkled brilliantly in the dim lights. Studying intently the sparkly chain with it’s the hook in eye clasp.

  

She brought her hands down behind me back, crossing them behind me waist. My right hand went to the front of her waist, holding onto her squirming, satin slippery figure, pressing it tightly against me. My left hand went up to her shoulder, gliding along the glossy slick fabric of her black satin gown, until I reached her necklace. It only took seconds for my fingers to lift, and slip off the hook from its”eye” , letting the shimmering chain slither down the front side of Ginny’s satin clad breasts. My right hand left her waist, and travelled nimbly, tingling, all the way up the front until my fingers grasped the dangling chain. My left hand let go, and the necklace whisked down the front of her perking bosom, tightly covered by the glossy black satin bridesmaid gown. The whole bit of thievery took me only a few chords of the music, but it seemed a lot longer in the process. We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that my gyrating partner was innocently unaware that her shiny necklace was absent from around her throat, and now resided in her dance partners vest pocket.

  

We made our way back to the others, Brian had a smug look on his bearded face, I knew he was up to something. As I sat down, he whispered double it or nothing mate, that she notices it’s missing before we leave. I nodded, taking him up on it. So, the game was still on, and for the last two hours that we stayed at the reception, Brain waiting for Ginny to notice her missing necklace, I tried to distract her as much as I could, even with me sister constantly played with her necklace whenever she held Ginny’s attention, but the poor creature never caught on that her necklace had been lifted.

  

We finally left the reception after midnight and made our way along the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself. Ginny walked calmly with us, unaware of the devils that were us, keeping pace beside her. As were making our way through a short cut in a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small isolated glen and circled around Ginny. Sis was grinning as she asked poor unawares Ginny, So luv, whatever did happen to your necklace? Gin’s reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.

  

Ginny, a relatively innocent soul, who is prone to believing most anything told to her, started, and her hand went to her throat, feeling about fruitlessly, as her rustling glossy gown and remaining jewels glistened dark in the full moons’ light. “M’ necklace, why it’s gone? , where did it go!, she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. We than got into it, playing dumb along with her, and tried to figure out the “mystery” I said the last time I saw it was when that seedy bloke cut in, and I ran my hand up her back, feeling the shivers going down her spine, did the blighter touch you like that, then luv. No she said, then thought hard, no she repeated, he couldn’t have, he was a proper gentleman, and it was only rhinestone, like your sister said. My sister commented that the bloke may have not noticed no difference, and she held out her own necklace, I’m glad the bloke didn’t ask me to dance. No, Ginny shook her head, her long earrings flickering a frenzied fire out from her hair, no one could have lifted them like that, I’d have felt it….

  

She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, Ginny froze with the realization that we had all been up to something, and, then a smile of relief showed up on her pretty face, as I held up her necklace, sparkling in front of her eyes. A sly look of understanding that we had been up to something crept into those dazzling green eyes , as she told us now to spill it out.

  

We explained the whole tale as sis helped Ginny place her necklace back on. Ginny, with her usual good humor, said she had never noticed a thing, and it probably was a good thing we weren’t real thieves, because if her necklace had been real, it would have been worth a small fortune. And shame on us for having her believe it was that poor blighter in the red shirt.

  

We wouldn’t’ make very good thieves I agreed we drink too much. She just smiled, a curious gleam creeping up into those witchy green eyes of hers. Let’s get going before we meet a real thief then, urged my sister, all this talk about someone thinking our jewels are real is giving me the chills.

  

Our drunken little group then merrily, if not a little more guardedly, made our way home..

 

This next bit is my favorite.

 

We rode the elevator up to the boy’s room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked on a bit about the reception. The girls stayed in dress and I happily soaked up the pretty picture the pair of admirably attractive girls presented with their long sheets of straight hair just hanging down, their diamonds sparkling and all other assorted frills enticing. About two hours later found Brian and myself sitting on the couch in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto our beers. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of us, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the swaying of their long glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.

  

Brain, draining a beer, got up to get another, bumping against my sister and playfully grabbing a handful. My sister started giggling at him as he sauntered off grinning, turning her figure so the brooch at the center of her gowns’ waistline almost hit me on the nose. Half asleep I reached over and lifted it up.

Looking up at the girls I saw that neither was paying no never mind towards me. Ginny, however, laid a hand on my twins shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper some girlish secret about Brian. I continued on, and was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I slipped her jewel into my pocket; until I could think of what it was I was going to do with it to tease me twin sister.

  

Brian stopped on the way back and reset the music, a slow song. Sis went to him, and the pair started dancing. I rose and taking Ginny by the hand, followed suit, leading her to the bit of a dance floor we had cleared. She was again, pure heaven in my arms as my hands slipped liberally up and down her smooth, slinky gowned figure. Ginny smiled, I knew that smile, and realized that something was going on behind her pretty green eyes. She flicked back her sheet of ginger hair, and leaned against me. I saw you, she whispered, her voice putting a tickle in my ear. Saw me I asked, not getting it. I saw you lift that dame’s diamond brooch, Ginny said in a sultry voice as she looked over towards where my sister was dancing, (no, she was actually swooning), in Brian’s arms. You see that one over there, in the black dancing with the bearded gent? I looked over, as she continues, look at ‘er necklace, I have a fancy for it, and if you don’t want me to call security, I suggest you get it for me, darling, she said, like she was some old time actress in a movie. I loved the devilishness of Ginny’s role play idea and threw me whole heart and soul into it.

  

Check out the Sonia clip shortcut at the end of my tale( recommend viewing)

  

Now wide awake, I got fully into Ginny’s game. As we continued dancing my eyes watched Brian and me sister, taking careful inventory of all her sparkling jewelry. Sis turned, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me. As I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up, I was imagining that all of her ample collection of rhinestones so prettily positioned on her figure, were real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief after her lovely sparklers. I looked into Ginny’s eyes. You have a deal miss, I whispered, making my voice deep and throaty, as I imagined meself as Humphrey Bogart type character in some shadowy film noir movie.

  

The song ended and a second, even slower one began playing. Brian and my sister were still locked into each other’s arms, but I felt that the time to make my move was now. Throwing Ginny a wink, I went over and cut in, Brian looked drunkenly at me like “whattsup chap,” but Ginny was right behind and swirled him away before he could properly react.

  

And as I took the pretty, wide eyed with innocence looking “dame” into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my intentions. Naïvely unaware, that in indifference to her own words earlier, someone did now want to nick the jewelry so merrily dangling from her svelte figure. Don’t forget at this point she was no longer my sister, but my sweet victim, and I was nothing more than a thief hungering after her bright baubles, albeit, a slightly inebriated thief!

  

I bided my time, appearing to look into my twins half opened eyes ( she was really lit by this time, as we all were) , my mind was working overtime on how to best approach my objective.

  

Employing the same method that the thief had used in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment my twin on how devastating her and Ginny looked both looked that evening (no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back until I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering row of single “diamonds”. She ate it up, blushing and closing her eyes, tilting her head down, exposing even more of the back of her throat, and laying bare the chain of her “diamond” necklace. As she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, I subtly lifted up the chain of her necklace, holding her ever so her tightly around the waist. As I felt the heat emanating from her figure, I used my free left hands’ fingers to unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over her one shoulder. Sis never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I peeled it off her chest (whisking along smooth as silk) and pulled it over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I pocketed it, letting it join her purloined brooch.

  

Meanwhile, Brian had left Ginny to go to the loo, and I saw Ginny, who had been watching all of it, give me a wink. Then she turned and stole out the apartment door, her longish slinking gown slipping through behind her as she closed the door. I made ready to make some excuse to break away from my sister and head after her with my loot.

  

But just as I opened my mouth to make that excuse , Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her own head back on my shoulder and closed her tired eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. One of her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there sparkling, mocking me to touch it, and like Gingers diamonds, was ripe for the picking.

  

With the prize within my grasp, I momentarily forgot about the departing Ginny, and I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ear, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled. The rest of the maneuver was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the earring in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauty came away from her sweaty ear as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held it in one fist for a bit, watching my victim, she had not felt so much as a tickle on her earlobe, as I had taken her earring. Relishing in my success, I looked at it dangling and shimmering in my hand behind her back. Then I secured her diamond away. I thought about trying for the other, but thought better of it, knowing Ginny was just waiting on the other side of the door.

  

I finished out the dance, taking my sisters hand with its dazzling bracelet and rings, and admired them while I kissed it. I’d better be off after Ginny I said, and then let go of her hand. Nice doing business with you I said, bemused as I watched the puzzlement creep into her eyes. That is how I left her.

  

However it was my turn to look puzzled as I went out, Ginny was nowhere to be seen. I quickly looked around, then headed to the elevator and rode down in it, alone at this early morning hour, to the lobby.

  

I arrived there, and at first the lobby appeared deserted, cept for a lonely desk clerk with her head buried in a novel. Then breathed a sigh of relief, there, around a corner, Ginny stood talking to some older lady wearing a garish grey pant suit, with this blue tinted helmet of curly hair covered by a large silk head scarf, and carrying an overlarge purse. I suddenly realized that now my anxiety had gone, another urge had taken its place. Ginny looked up, and smiles happily at me, and I smiled back, indicated that I had to go for a minute, and headed meself to the loo.

  

Coming out after I finished, I saw that the lobby was actually now really empty, not even the desk clerk was visible. Thinking Ginny may have gone back upstairs, I first went to the hotels double doors to chance a look outside onto the street below. I just caught sight of a wisp of black gown moving just out of sight past the stairs, on the now smoggy sidewalk below.

  

I headed out, and there was Ginny walking with the Blue haired stranger, they appeared to be looking for something. I started wondering if Ginny had invited this stranger to go on out walk with us? But no, apparently the blue haired lady in the unfortunate grey pantsuit had discovered her keys were missing, and thought they had dropped somewhere after getting out of a taxi just around the corner. And Ginny, bless her kind heated soul, had offered to help the distressed lady look for them.

  

As Ginny was telling me all this after I had caught up, the blue haired older lady , her cheerful face now stern, had started rummaging in her large shoulder bag, I sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw that is contained quite an amazing assortment of items , ( no wonder it had to be so big). Suddenly she uttered an exclamation, found them she said, triumphantly pulling out an interesting assortment of skeleton type keys on a small ring. Happily smiling at Ginny, she pulled her into an enveloping hug for her efforts, before quickly leaving, but not without first giving me a sidelong glance with a disapproving look from her now pursed–lipped mouth as she passed. But I at the time put it down as her just being stressed out from believing she had misplaced her keys.

  

I am so glad she found her keys remarked Ginny, taking up me hand. That lady was ever so nice, she wanted to know where I had been dressed up all pretty like I am, and when I told her about the wedding, she said it must have been lovely. Then she admired me dress, and rhinestones. Then asked if me ruby ring was a gift from the bride. Liked your ring huh, I asked Ginny, my mind clearing up a little. Oh yes she said, lifted my hand, looked at it an everything!

Then the poor dear missed her keys, and asked if I could be a dear and help her look outside, and that was that until you showed up. (Looking outside for keys at 2:30 in the morning? I thought to myself) As I said ti Ginny, it is a pretty ring, and taking her arm, we started down the block together.

  

My mind, now somewhat attuned to the reality of things, went back to the blue haired lady and her large shoulder bag. Among some of various items I had seen had been a penknife, a length of old silk sash cord, small bundle of lacy handkerchiefs, and a small torch! Then add in the odd assortment of keys on her “misplaced” keyring, and put it all together, it all began to sum up to a new, slightly more sinister meaning of her intentions, in my take on the episode.

  

As we walked, I said nothing in reply to the happily chirping, richly attired girl walking beside me , as for the first time, and not the last, I wondered if something had been afoot with the Blue Haired, pursed mouthed lady that Ginny had seen as a kind older lady needed help, like the bird with a broken wing she had tried to help a few days past( a blue jay!). So was the blue haired lady, with the silk scarf and wearing a rather unisexual pantsuit, acting out the part of a “blue jay”, using her “broken wing” as a ruse to lure my Ginny safely away for her own nefarious reasons?

  

Surreptitiously, I carefully checked over Ginny from head to heeled toes as we walked, to make sure nothing was amiss. Her rhinestones were still safely all in their place, but I did not see the ruby ring, and me heart went still, and chills prickled down my spine! Bullocks! I swore under my breath, that pucker faced tart walked away with it. Ginny, I said, a little choked, she swirled facing me, her green eyes questioning, as she raised her hand to her perked breasts, and there it was, the small, but rather pricey, ruby ring she so loved wearing, the glittery darling had turned around on her finger so it was hidden from my view

.

 

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, I just wanted to say how lovely you looked this evening my lass, I said saving myself. She smiled winningly, giving me a deep hug for my words. We walked on, as my beating heart slowed down, I convinced myself that maybe the incident of lost keys had all been harmless, and I was just being a worry-wort. I apologized silently for what I had called the fashion challenged blue haired lady in my mind. But I was still beginning to feel like ever a fool to have let Ginny, handsomely decked out as she was, out of my sight at this early hour of the morning.

  

I opened my mind and let all such thoughts flee my head, for the world was now ours, as we made our journey together, hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial Park, and reentering the same isolated, secret glen we had been in earlier, proceeded to continue acting out the role playing game we had started at the apartment.

  

Ginny went to the middle of the clearing to wait, pretending she was smoking, like a moll from a gangster movie. I circled and watched her sparkling figure, black in the glens shadows, move about a bit.

  

And as I did, my thoughts wondered a bit, and I remember reflecting ( not for the first time) how in the older black n whites, the heroine, or villainous, is always wearing gowns, elegant long gloves, and jeweled to the sparkling hilt. Then she walks alone to and then waits in some dark alley or other desolate spot for her contact, or hero to show up, much like Ginny was acting out now. So how is it that those fancy dressed and well jeweled unescorted dames, always manage to get to those spots, and are able to wait around in them alone, in those movies, and nary ever meet a ruffian who strips them of those pricy looking sparklers they are flaunting about? Just saying!

  

Saying a brief prayer that my thoughts were not tempting a fate of that type to occur to us now that I had been thinking it, I came out of the shadows and approached Ginny. Keeping my left hand in my pocket like I was carrying a heater. Hey sister, I said, been waiting long? No, she whispered, did you get the goods. Hot as ice I said proudly, producing the necklace and earring I had liberated from the dancing “dame”.

  

As I showed Ginny my take from “the dame”, she squealing over the fact I was able to take one of her diamond earrings, bonus she chanted. We laughed over what the “dames” reaction would be when the jewels were discovered missing. As we snickered, Ginny caught my eyes and then we got off on a tangent about jewel thieves in love, and ended up reenacting the “lure” scene from the movie ‘To Catch a Thief” ending up producing fireworks of our own making as Ginny lost all her jewels as well as her “innocence”.. We then made our way back home, as the cock crows, receiving a few odd looks from the occasional early morning lorry drivers.

  

And above all, I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I had sauntered our way to the park. And why not, I ask? Cause not only did I get to stroll about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, But I also had totally scored a hat trick in the jewelry lifting department, collecting two Quid to boot, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, isn’t it?

 

So ends my story, of which I have written 2 versions.

My question is now this:

Which version, if one reads both, do you believe to be the truer?

Please leave a comment at the end of the story you believe is..

In appreciation,

Thank You

 

*************************************** ****************************************

In Appraisal

 

Tis story may be unique in its nature, but if not we would love to hear about it. Please leave a comment or drop an email ( or both) about you own experience.

Thank You

 

The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommend viewing)

youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk

I posted the first image of this rip on March 9. As promised, here's the same rip 10 days on. It's still a significant surf zone feature but with the reduced swell size, rip current velocity has diminished and the deeper rip channel is beginning to fill with sand. A new, smaller rip has also formed (upper right), better attuned to the reduced wave energy.

"In order to comprehend the beauty of a Japanese garden, it is necessary to understand - or at least to learn to understand - the beauty of stone." Lafcadio Hearn

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_dry_garden

The Japanese dry garden (枯山水, karesansui) or Japanese rock garden, often called a zen garden, is a distinctive style of Japanese garden. It creates a miniature stylized landscape through carefully composed arrangements of rocks, water features, moss, pruned trees and bushes, and uses gravel or sand that is raked to represent ripples in water.[1] Zen gardens are commonly found at temples or monasteries. A zen garden is usually relatively small, surrounded by a wall or buildings, and is usually meant to be seen while seated from a single viewpoint outside the garden, such as the porch of the hojo, the residence of the chief monk of the temple or monastery. Many, with gravel rather than grass, are only stepped into for maintenance. Classical zen gardens were created at temples of Zen Buddhism in Kyoto during the Muromachi period. They were intended to imitate the essence of nature, not its actual appearance, and to serve as an aid for meditation.[2]

 

www.niwa.org/

The mission of the Japanese Friendship Garden Society of San Diego (JFG) is to develop a traditional Japanese garden as a center to educate, engage, and inspire people of diverse backgrounds about Japanese culture and community legacy.

 

JFG is an accredited museum that offers a variety of educational programs, exhibits, and cultural festivals to enhance appreciation and understanding of Japanese culture. Over 330,000 visitors from the United States and internationally attend the garden annually. JFG opened to the public in 1991 and is an expression of friendship between San Diego and its sister city, Yokohama. The garden is inspired from centuries-old Japanese design and techniques that showcase JFG’s living exhibition comprised of plants and florae native to Japan and San Diego. The second phase opened in 1999 and was designed by renowned landscape architect Takeo Uesugi, which included the addition of the Exhibit Hall, Activity Center, and Upper Koi Pond. The third phase, completed in 2015, incorporated a 200 cherry tree grove, large azalea and camellia garden, a water feature reminiscent of the San Diego watershed, and the state of the art Inamori Pavilion. Today, JFG resides on 12 acres and fosters a relationship between humans and nature, providing a respite attuned to Japanese simplicity, serenity, and aestheticism.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_Friendship_Garden_(Balboa_Park)

The Japanese Friendship Garden was built and continues to be maintained under the philosophy that, "a garden is always in a state of change but the basic elements of trees, shrubs, rocks and water designed in natural balance create a peaceful, harmonious, and transcendental environment conducive to contemplation and meditation."[2]

 

San Diego 2023

 

DSC04397 LRC Zen Rock Garden

 

Haiku thoughts

Raked lines in still sand—

silent stones hold the moment,

time flows in circles.

This last Autumn I had the chance to walk with my camera for about 2 hours in the picturesque Thera, the capital city of Santorini, one of the most beautiful and famous Greek Cyclades islands.

 

The day was cloudy and there was a certain serenity around, although there were a lot of tourists as always. What really struck me, was that I discovered other colors around in the traditional architecture, apart from blue and white!!

 

You can read right here why Santorini and the most of the Aegean Sea Greek islands are mostly dressed in blue and white :

 

“Santorini and the rest of the islands that form the group of Cyclades in the Aegean Sea are known for their beauty and astonishing architecture. The Cycladic architecture is characterized by simplicity and grace, free from palaver and complex additions. It comes in proportion with the surroundings and the aura of the Greek islands. The architecture of Santorini likewise is accordant to the environment and the conditions of the island and tailored to the needs of its residents.

 

The first thing that catches your attention when you set eyes on a Cycladic island is the whitewashed houses, usually accompanied by blue doors and windows. The houses are evidently in absolute concordance with the light blue sky and the vast Aegean Sea. This harmony has been established many years ago for various purposes. Nowadays, these colors constitute the hallmark of Cyclades and represent Greece, as they also match its flag.

 

As for utility reasons, the white color of the houses is of paramount importance. The ideal climate of Santorini offers hot summers and the bright sun is present several months of the year. The inhabitants, in order to confine the heat in the interior to a significant extent, had to construct their houses accordingly. The white color reflects the biggest part of the dazzling light, preventing the houses from getting warm and that was a basic goal of the traditional architecture. Making the houses heat resistant, the summers are much more tolerable and pleasant.

 

According to historical sources, there is one more explanation to what led to the prevalence of the whitewashed houses. At the beginning of the 20th century, during the war, serious deceases, like cholera, plagued the Greek islands. Whitewash is a cheap, disinfectant material that was used regularly to limit the contagion. Back to that era, it was probably the most effective or even the only medium available for disinfection.

 

Regardless of the various reasons, white remained the dominant color and trademark of Santorini and Cyclades and creates an awe-inspiring spectacle. The island radiates a beaming light and so a sense of optimism, brightness and tranquility overwhelms visitors. The white color, especially in Santorini, complements the wild beauty, brings balance and is attuned to the details of other colors that simply highlight.”

  

Spring Hike Conclusion:

 

Thankfully I didn't have to venture too far to find my final composition of the day and this what my entire day had ended up being geared towards. There's an element of pre-visualisation that happens with my work and after a while of looking at meteorological models, cloud layer predictions, angle of sun you become attuned to what kind of photographs you're going to capture on any given trip. This informs where and what I'm going to shoot, allowing me to focus on the finer details of what I want or hope to attain from a session.

 

It was no surprise to me in this case that golden hour was going to be particularly luminous, but that's not to say any of the magic was taken away. I'm consistently blown away by what I see, even if I have a fair idea that I'm going to see it. It's the unexpected extras or variations that nature throws at you that make it exciting.

 

It took one focus stacked series of this scene with golden light and one once the light had turned deep orange/magenta and called it a day. Walking through Stanage Plantation and down North Lees, finding plenty of interest to photograph in the future and then ultimately on the trail to Hathersage, fifteen miles later from the start of my hike and ready for a sit down.

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.

OK, so this is a bit dark. But look past that to the beautiful spangles inside. There's blues and greens and oranges and whites. I don't know why the light does this. I do know it's the sun you're seeing though, and the light becomes more spangly with smaller aperture (f/10 here!).

 

I use the word 'spangles' to mean the beautiful spots of light that seem to orbit around the bubble. I don't know what they're called, or even if there's a word for them.

 

This was shot in early morning light - sun low in the sky.

 

The more I photograph bubbles the more attuned I get to how much of a difference aperture makes. Here, the small aperture of f/10 creates more contrast around the edges, giving more depth cues, more of a 3D look! It helps to make the spangles clear too - they look more like blooms when shot with a larger aperture.

 

I shot this with my Nikon 50mm f/1.4 af-s. Lovely lens!

 

P.S. This is a photograph of a soap bubble, not a Photoshop creation. I do little edits on light, but nothing invasive like adding stuff that's not there. The editing here is very small too - just a couple of tiny tweaks. This is a REAL PHOTOGRAPH.

 

.... Later, in 2015, Donovan Young, a physicist, has written a blog post that theorizes the spots of light in this bubble. The spots are reflected sunlight that bounces around inside the bubble.

 

whyweseewhatwesee.wordpress.com/2015/02/06/multiple-refle...

  

_MG_4264_TS landscape T on top and max S

one Flickr contact has kindly given me some guidelines to practise with the TS -and attune myself to manual focussing!

I watch too much t/v. But as a culture critic, I guess I need to be attuned (isn't it ironic that that is the same as "tuned in?"), to what the masses are hearing and seeing. As if the vapid content weren't enough, American television is jam packed with commercials. A huge amount of them are for pharmaceuticals. You'd swear that all Americans are suffering from psoriasis, hepatitis, diabetes or IBS. And goddamed if they don't have a cure for all of it. As if you could self-diagnose and then order up some drugs. But today's rant is about the patriotism card being played by damn near everyone. Flags, or parts thereof are affixed to or superimposed on every possible surface. Is there a condom made with the U.,S. flag on it yet? If not, there should be, because we're all getting screwed by the concept of American Exceptionalism.

@ We Love Roleplay ~ December 4 - January 28

 

To celebrate chilly season finally getting here, I've made new icy astrolabes! Attune yourself with these magical artifacts of fortune~

 

These are sold in three colors, Glacial Floe (white), Aether Frost (blue) and Black Ice (black). These are PBR textured with fallbacks, so I would recommend updating your viewer to view these fully! The provided HUD gives 6 metal color options and 4 color options for the rotating cards!

 

The astrolabe, like my other two, are handheld accessories with a "sheathed" back position as well. You can swap between the two by clicking the visible one. I have updated the holding animation for this one however, so it has a bit less movement of the arm to keep the astrolabe more upright and have more fluid finger wiggles.

 

Also, as a promo for the season, I've got a frosty flower crown for only 50L at the venue as well!

 

Mod / Copy / No Trans

 

More from me ♥

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Einar Jónsson (11 May 1874 – 18 October 1954) was an Icelandic sculptor. At a young age Einar proved himself to be an unusual child with an artistic bent. At that time there was little or no tradition of sculpture in Iceland, so Einar moved to Denmark where he attended the Copenhagen Academy of Art.

 

His ideas were related to German symbolism, and he developed a figurative language composed of interpretable symbols, personification and allegory.

 

In 1909, after living abroad for almost 20 years he made an arrangement with the Althing to provide him with a home and studio in Reykjavík. In return, he agreed to donate all his works to the country.

 

Einar's works fall into three general categories. First, there were the public monuments that he was commissioned by the government to produce. The second group was private commissions that he obtained, consisting of portraits and cemetery monuments. The third collection consisted of the private works that he labored over as he became increasingly and deeply spiritually attuned and reclusive. In this large body of works Einar's spiritual nature is clearly seen, though it is often difficult to describe. The themes for these works are frequently drawn from Christ's consciousness, deep Cosmic spirituality like the eternal, infinite body and consciousness of the universe or God, Icelandic Mythology

 

In recent years Einar's plasters have been cast in bronze and placed in the garden of his home and studio or in city parks in Reykjavík and throughout Iceland. He donated his work to the Einar Jónsson Museum in Reykjavík, which opened in 1923

Yeah ... don't yell at me .... I know it's late for the Santa sweater .. but I had to get this in before it was too late .... and this was supposed to be a candid ... but the damn kid caught me and my camera from across the street ... anyway ... kids usually have their eyes and ears more opened and more attuned than the rest of us ... so much for candids ...(at least I know enough to take candids of someone who can't beat me up if I get caught .... he wouldn't be able to do that for at least another two more years ) .........

(Explore #2)

 

Typically, winter is my favourite season to shoot in. The low sun results in the most enriching shadow detail and is a huge boon to the photographer wishing to imbue his or her work with depth and three dimensional appearance. Contrasts are far more manageable than any other period, and the window of opportunity for well-balanced exposure often extends right throughout the day. I enjoy too, the solitude and desertion the associated weather conditions bring to areas that will eventually be filled with jostling tourists, holiday-makers and day-trippers. It has been commented there's a certain proclivity for... loneliness(?) in much of my imagery. I both accept and indeed frequently strive to include that sense as, for reasons perhaps I'll delve deeper in to on a different occasion, on a base level I personally find that visual characteristic very appealing. It occurs to me perhaps I'm too self indulgent in such expression - yet it is, after all, my expression.

 

But what of the effects such an inclement season inflicts upon the hardy maker of images? Rain, wind and cold can all be defended against to a degree, by means of weather-proof clothing, sealed lenses and camera bodies plus not to mention the improvised techniques of those of us who venture out. The emotional responses triggered by such elements are less easy to counteract, and although I personally welcome the attributing inspiration I can't deny returning home from shore or moor after an extended shoot comes as something of a relief. Ironically it strikes me that images I take in the summer months often exude a similar feeling, that dark essence that causes me to claim ownership - yet the likelihood is I'll exacerbate that impression through creative visualisation/realisation. Here, in actual winter, those qualities are present for all to see (were they to go outside), and are bitingly real. It may be that the sun's reluctant and brief appearances throughout the darker months lead to a reduction in the brain's natural serotonin levels, thereby attuning me psychologically to create darker images. It may be that suitable subject matter is just easier to find at this time of year. Or, as I suspect, it may simply be down to a combination of the two.

 

I do know I don't envy anyone with a reverse persona - anyone wishing to capture happy-go-lucky photographs in the throes of the winter we're even now still experiencing here in the UK...

 

________________________

 

www.andrewrobertbrown.com

Solo Aspen. © Copyright 2019 G Dan Mitchell - all rights reserved.

 

One bright autumn aspen tree against a dark forest background.

 

For a long time I have thought about how photographers attempted to convey the entirely color-focused nature of autumn trees and leaves using black and white photography. It isn't impossible, but it isn't easy. We are so attuned to the fact that the colors — green, red, orange, yellow, brown — define the subject at this time of year, that it isn't easy to see them black and white.

 

So, here is an attempt. I photographed in black and white for a long time before I worked much in color, and I don't have many photographs of autumn subject from that period, at least not photographs that focus on the color change. In truth, this photograph began in color — both literally as an image captured with a color digital camera and subjectively, as I began the post-processing work in color. While experimenting with various ways of handling color saturation (along with handling the much darker background behind the prominent tree) I happened to lower the saturation slider to zero. Hmmm... that looked interesting! So I went a bit further, using other more sophisticated ways of exploring a monochromatic interpretation, and this is where I ended up.

 

G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, "California's Fall Color: A Photographer's Guide to Autumn in the Sierra" is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.

 

Blog | About | Flickr | Facebook | Email

 

Links to Articles, Sales and Licensing, my Sierra Nevada Fall Color book, Contact Information.

Reed Richards is a founding member, and the leader, of the Fantastic Four. Richards has a mastery of mechanical, aerospace and electrical engineering, chemistry, all levels of physics, and human and alien biology.

 

He is the inventor of the spacecraft that was bombarded by cosmic radiation on its maiden voyage, granting the Fantastic Four their powers. Richards gained the ability to stretch his body into any shape he desires.

 

Mister Fantastic acts as the leader and father figure of the Fantastic Four, and although his cosmic ray powers are primarily stretching abilities, his presence on the team is defined by his scientific acumen, as he is officially acknowledged as the smartest man in the Marvel Universe.

 

This is particularly a point of tragedy in regards to his best friend, Ben Grimm, who he has constantly tried to turn back into his human form but who typically remains a large, rocky creature called the Thing.

 

He is the husband of Susan Storm, father of Franklin Richards and Valeria Richards, and mentor of his brother-in-law, Johnny Storm.

 

Born in Central City, California, Reed Richards is the son of Evelyn and Nathaniel Richards. Nathaniel was a scientific genius, and Reed inherited a similar level of intellect and interests.

 

A child prodigy with special aptitude in mathematics, physics, and mechanics, Reed Richards was taking college-level courses when he was 14.

 

He attended such prestigious universities as the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, California Institute of Technology, Harvard University, Columbia University, and the fictional Empire State University. By the age of 20, he had several degrees in the sciences under his belt.

 

It was at Empire State University that he met Benjamin J. Grimm. Reed had already begun designing a starship capable of traveling in hyperspace. Sharing his plans with his new roommate, Grimm jokingly volunteered to pilot the craft.

 

Also while at State U he met a brilliant fellow student, Victor Von Doom. In Richards, Doom met the first person who could match him intellectually; regarding Richards as his ultimate rival, Doom became increasingly jealous of Richards. Determined to prove he was better, Doom conducted reckless experiments which eventually scarred his face and would lead him to become Doctor Doom.

 

During the summer months, Reed rented a room in a boarding house owned by the aunt of a young woman named Susan Storm, who was an undergraduate student at the time. Reed fell in love with Sue instantly and began courting her.

 

Ultimately, Reed was too distracted from his work on his dissertation due to his romance with Sue and decided that the best thing for the both of them was to move out of Marygay's home.

 

Moving on to Harvard, Reed earned Ph.D.s in Physics and Electrical Engineering while working as a military scientist, all this by the age of 22. He also worked in communications for the Army.

 

Three years later, in his mid-20s, Reed used his inheritance, along with government funding, to finance his research. Determined to go to Mars and beyond, Richards based the fateful project in Central City.

 

Susan Storm moved into the area, and within a short time, found herself engaged to Reed. Reed's old college roommate, Ben Grimm, now a successful test pilot and astronaut, was indeed slated to pilot the craft.

 

All seemed well; however, when the government threatened to cut funding and cancel the project, Reed, Ben, Sue, and Sue's younger brother Johnny, agreed to sneak aboard the starship and take it up immediately.

 

They knew they had not completed all the testing that had been planned, but Reed was confident they would be safe. Ben was initially skeptical about the unknown effects of radiation, while Reed theorized that their ship's shielding would be adequate to protect them.

 

It was on Reed's initiative that the fateful mission which had Susan Storm, Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm accompanying him into space took place. When their ship passed through the Van Allen belt they found their cockpit bombarded with nearly lethal doses of cosmic radiation.

 

Reed had neglected to account for the abnormal radiation levels in the belt's atmosphere. The cosmic rays wreaked havoc on the starship's insufficient shielding and they were forced to return to Earth immediately.

 

When they crash-landed they found that their bodies were changed dramatically. Reed's body was elastic and he could reshape any portion of his body at will. At his suggestion, they decided to use their new abilities to serve mankind as the Fantastic Four.

 

Reed was chosen to lead the group, under the name "Mr. Fantastic". He later told his daughter, by way of a bedtime story, that the reason he suggested they become adventurers and gave them such outlandish costumes and names as "Mister Fantastic" and "The Thing" was that he knew they would likely be hated and feared for their powers without such an over-the-top public image.

 

Richards was a veteran of World War II who had served behind enemy lines in occupied France, and the goal of his space mission was a crewed space flight to the moon before the Communists were able to. Later, the challenge was getting there before the Chinese Communists and to explore the interstellar areas of the red planet and beyond.

 

Reed and Sue "were kids together" and Sue was the "girl next door" who Reed left behind to go fight in the war. Sue was thirteen years old when she first met Reed, who was in his early twenties, at her Aunt Marygay's boardinghouse.

 

Leadership of the Fantastic Four

 

The early career of the Fantastic Four led Mister Fantastic to a number of discoveries, and had their first encounters with many unusual characters. In the team's first appearance, they battled the Mole Man. They then battled the Skrulls. Soon after that, the team encountered the Sub-Mariner. They then had the first of many battles with Doctor Doom. They later journeyed to a subatomic world. Soon after that, they encountered Rama-Tut. They then battled the Molecule Man.

 

As the team leader, Mr. Fantastic created numerous exotic devices and vehicles for the team to use such as clothing made of 'unstable molecules' so that it can be used with their powers safely. Furthermore, he often leads the team into daring expeditions such as into the Negative Zone in addition to opposing evil. Also, he has felt personally responsible for Ben Grimm's grotesque change and has labored off and on to reverse it permanently.

 

Under his guidance, the team went on to become Earth's most celebrated band of heroes. Together, they would save the world countless times. Ever driven by his quest for knowledge, Reed is believed by most to be the Earth's foremost intelligence. There is little he cannot create, fix, or understand given time. The patents and royalties on his inventions alone have funded the group over the years.

 

However, there are drawbacks to his association with the team. Chief among them is the team's violent encounters with Doctor Doom, who believes that Reed was responsible for the accident that scarred him.

 

Doom has never forgiven Reed and has sworn revenge. Doom has even gone as far as transforming Reed into a monstrous freak, attacking Reed's children and attempting to seduce Sue.

 

Subplots and story arcs

 

After many adventures as the Fantastic Four, Reed married Sue. Not long after that, the team encountered the Inhumans for the first time. They next encountered Galactus and the Silver Surfer.

 

Reed then opened a portal to the Negative Zone for the first time. Soon, the team first battled the Psycho-Man. Before long Reed and Sue had a baby, Franklin; the team battled Annihilus right before Franklin's birth. Franklin was a mutant with incredible powers, but, due to the cosmic ray alteration to his parents' DNA, they manifested while he was still very young (in the Marvel world, most mutants like the X-Men get their powers while teenagers).

 

Franklin appears to have power that can rival a member of the Celestials; almost immeasurable power in the body of a small child.

 

Under the constant pressure of their dangerous life, the couple briefly separated, and Reed further alienated Sue by shutting down Franklin's mind in order to prevent his power from causing global catastrophe; Sue Storm initiated divorce proceedings but the two were reconciled soon after.

 

Reed also saved Galactus's life during the course of his adventures. He then bought the Baxter Building.

 

Later, he was tried by the Shi'ar for saving Galactus's life, but the charges were dropped when Eternity briefly granted all those attending the trial a moment of 'cosmic awareness' that allowed them to understand that Galactus was necessary for the continued well-being of the universe.

 

Reed's battle with Gormuu prior to getting his powers was recounted. Just after that, Reed was reunited with his father in an alternate timeline. Some time later, Reed and Sue retired from the Fantastic Four, and then joined the Avengers, although Reed's past experience as leader of the Fantastic Four meant that he had trouble adjusting to following Captain America's lead regardless of his respect for the other man. Eventually, Reed and Sue did rejoin the Fantastic Four.

 

In the course of fighting an alien called Hunger, Doctor Doom was seriously injured. The Fantastic Four were also part of the battle against Hunger and Doom asked for his old enemy to take his hand. At that point they both disappeared in a flash, leaving nothing but ashes. It would appear as if the two sworn enemies had fittingly died in each other's hands.

 

However, unknown to anyone else at the time, Reed and Doom had actually been thrown back into the time of barbarians and onto an alien world by a being called Hyperstorm, Reed's grandchild from an alternate future, the child of Franklin Richards and Rachel Summers, daughter of Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

 

They were so far into the past, and with no technology, that even their brilliant minds couldn't find a way back home. Doom was captured and held prisoner by Hyperstorm. Reed wandered aimlessly for about a year.

 

Meanwhile, the rest of the FF recruited Scott Lang as scientific advisor. They even confronted an insane alternative version of Reed called the Dark Raider who was traveling from reality to reality, destroying all the various versions of himself after his own failure to save his world from Galactus in their original confrontation.

 

A while later, the remaining members of the FF along with the Sub-Mariner, Lyja and Kristoff Vernard found themselves trapped in the same era as their Reed and Doom.

 

They found Reed but faced a new problem: during his time alone, Reed had resigned himself to the reality that it was impossible for his old friends to stage a rescue and attacked them but soon realized that these truly were his friends.

 

After returning to their own time period, he sought Galactus, as he was the only being in the Universe who could defeat Hyperstorm. Upon Hyperstorm's defeat at the hands of Galactus, the FF returned to the present day where they continued their lives, not only as a team, but as a family.

 

Onslaught and Heroes Reborn

 

Shortly after their return, the FF were confronted by a being called Onslaught. Onslaught took control of an army of Sentinels and invaded New York City, hunting down every mutant being he could find.

 

Onslaught wished to add the abilities of the ultra-powerful Franklin Richards to his own. Only through the apparent sacrifice of the Fantastic Four's own lives and that of many of the heroes in the Marvel universe was Onslaught finally vanquished.

 

The heroes would have died then and there if not for Franklin, who created an alternate reality for them to reside in. Completely oblivious to what had taken place, Reed and his compatriots relived most of their lives.

 

In their absence the Fantastic Four's headquarters, Four Freedoms Plaza, was annihilated by a super villain group called the Masters of Evil, posing as heroes, The Thunderbolts.

 

One year later, Franklin returned with his family along with the other heroes from the parallel reality. Reed was overjoyed to see his son again, but he and the rest of the FF found themselves without a home. They moved into Reed's storage warehouse on Pier 4, overlooking the East River.

 

Making this their home, the Fantastic Four continued with their lives, eventually managing to move back into the Baxter Building.

 

It has emerged that Reed is one of the members of the "Illuminati", unknown to his wife. He is also in possession of the "Power" gem of the Infinity Gauntlet.

 

Pro-Registration

 

In the Civil War event, Reed Richards is one of the leading figures, along with Iron Man, on the side which is in favor of the Superhuman Registration Act.

 

He speculates that this will lead to conflict with his wife, which came true when a clone of Thor, created by him and Tony Stark, went out of control and killed Goliath and nearly killed all the rest of the Secret Avengers until Sue Storm stepped in and saved them.

 

Soon after, Sue left Reed, along with Johnny, to join the Secret Avengers in hopes that it would drive Reed to end the conflict quickly.

 

Shortly before the events of Civil War, Peter Parker demanded to see the conditions inside the detention facility designed by Reed to hold unregistered superhumans.

 

After being escorted to and from the prison by Iron Man, Parker returns with more doubts than ever about whether he is on the right side and asks Reed why he supports the Superhuman Registration Act, a question Reed answers by telling the story of his paternal uncle, Ted.

 

Reed remembers his uncle, who was a professional writer, as "funny", "colorful", and "accepting". As a boy, Reed loved spending time with Ted. Unfortunately, Ted was also "an eccentric" and "stubborn".

 

Because he had a career in the arts and because he stood out, Ted was called before HUAC, imprisoned on contempt of Congress charges for six months, and was unable to find work after he'd served his sentence.

 

He was even shunned by Reed's father. Ted lost everything, which Reed says finally "killed him" without going into greater detail. Richards opines that his uncle was wrong to take such a stand, to pick a fight he couldn't win, and to fail to respect the law.

 

However it was revealed that the real reason for supporting the registration act is due to his development of a working version of Isaac Asimov's psychohistory concept.

 

His application of this science indicates to him that billions will die in escalating conflicts without the presence of the act. In the final battle of the war, he is shot by Taskmaster, saving Sue Storm's life. With Reed on the brink of death, a furious Sue crushes Taskmaster with a telekinetic field.

 

Reed survives, however, and Sue returns to him in the aftermath of the battle, having been granted amnesty. Seeking to repair the damage done to their marriage as a result of the war, Sue and Reed take time off from the Fantastic Four, but ask Storm and the Black Panther to take their places in the meantime.

 

World War Hulk

 

Within the midst of Civil War, Reed Richards learned from a brief conversation with Mastermind Excello that the Hulk is not on the planet where the Illuminati attempted to exile him.

 

After a conversation over the good the Hulk has done for humanity, Reed tells Iron Man of what happened to the Hulk and also states that the Hulk has friends, and "may God help us if they find him before we do".

 

Within the aftermath of Civil War, Reed Richards had been keeping tabs on Mastermind Excello and when the She-Hulk learned about the Hulk's exile, Reed Richards sends out Doc Samson to confront her when he sees her meeting with Mastermind Excello.

 

Then Reed is seen with Tony Stark as Iron Man. Both men were trying to convince Sentry to fight the Hulk, thinking that the calm aura that the Sentry produces may be able to stop the Hulk's rampage.

 

With the aid of the rest of the Fantastic Four, Storm, and the Black Panther, Reed is able to create a machine that projects an image of the Sentry and recreates the hero's aura of calm.

 

He uses the machine on the Hulk just as he is about to defeat the Thing, but the Hulk knows it is not the real Sentry and destroys the machine. In a last line of defense, Sue Storm tries to protect her husband by encapsulating the Hulk in an energy field while pleading with him to spare Reed. The Hulk does not listen and is able to easily exert enough strength against her force field to cause Susan to collapse and experience a nosebleed from the stress, dooming Reed to the Hulk's wrath.

 

Reed is later seen among the various heroes that the Hulk defeated so far, within the depths of the Hulk's Gladiator arena located within Madison Square Garden.

 

He and all of the heroes are implanted with "obedience disks" that are used to suppress their powers.These disks are the same that were used upon the Hulk during his time on Sakaar.

 

The Hulk orders Iron Man and Mr. Fantastic to face off in battle. Richards, after having the upper hand on Stark, is then given the thumbs down by Hulk, instructing Richards to kill Stark.

 

However the Hulk spares their lives, showing them that he proved his point to the world. They survived the encounter by Hulk's mercy and the timely intervention of the Sentry.

 

The Illuminati are partially cleared from the responsibility of Sakaar's destruction when Miek, one of the Hulk's alien allies, admits he saw the Red King forces breach the ship's warp core. Miek kept quiet to initiate what he felt was Hulk's destiny as the "Worldbreaker".

 

Secret Invasion

 

Mister Fantastic is at the Illuminati's meeting discussing the threat of the Skrulls when the Black Bolt with them is revealed to be a Skrull in disguise.

 

Mister Fantastic and Hank Pym autopsy the body of the Skrull who impersonated Elektra (with Reed pretending to be seeing the corpse for the first time, thus keeping the secret of the Illuminati).

 

After completing the dissection, Reed claims to have discovered the secret of how the Skrulls have been able to conceal their identities. Before he can elaborate, "Hank Pym" reveals himself to be a Skrull and shoots Richards with a weapon that violently leaves his elastic body in a state of chaotic disarray similar to Silly String.

 

After that, it is shown that a Skrull assumed Reed's form in order to successfully ambush and capture Sue Richards, to facilitate an attack on the Fantastic Four's headquarters.

 

A conscious but still mostly shapeless Reed Richards is seen being forcibly stretched in all directions to cover the floor of a medium-sized arena aboard a Skrull ship, with all of the seats filled by Skrull onlookers.

 

He is freed by Abigail Brand, and then travels with her to the Savage Land and uses a device to reveal all the Skrull invaders present.

 

After helping the Avengers to defeat the imposters and return to New York, Reed aids the heroes and villains of Earth in their battle against the Skrulls.

 

Dark Reign

 

Mister Fantastic aids the New Avengers in the search for the daughter of Luke Cage and Jessica Jones.

 

He and the rest of the Fantastic Four are magically reduced to television signals by the chaotic activities of the Elder God Chthon, to prevent them from intervening, though after Chthon is defeated, he and the other three are turned back.

 

Norman Osborn is a man well aware that Reed is one of the few that have intellect exceeding even his own and thus poses a great threat to his carefully constructed shadow world.

Osborn sends H.A.M.M.E.R. agents to shut down the Fantastic Four and capture them, expelling them from the Initiative and stripping them all their rights.

 

Taking place a week from the Secret Invasion, which has caused Richards to seriously reevaluate his own life and the life he has built for his family, resulting in turbulent internal conflicts.

 

Richards, as he takes a long, hard look at the life, is prompted to construct a machine that is capable of bending reality itself, to do so.

 

Agents from H.A.M.M.E.R. arrive just as Reed activates the machine, interfacing with the Baxter Building's power supply, resulting in an energy fluctuation that sends Sue, Ben and Johnny back to the prehistoric era, fraught with dangers, which manifest in the form of the First Celestial Host.

 

Reed searches for answers which can only be found in alternate timelines as the three find themselves in a super hero Hyborian-age civil war; Franklin and Valeria are the only ones available to confront the agents Osborn sent.

 

Richards studies other parallel Earths to see if any found a peaceful solution to the Civil War, which resulted from the Superhuman Registration Act.

 

Reed peers into different worlds, some more bizarre than our own, to see what they did differently. This is an insightful look into where the Marvel Universe has gone in the past "year" (in Marvel time) and to see who was at fault, if anyone.

 

Reed meets with the other five Illuminati to handle the problem. Ultimately, after seeing about a million alternate Earths, he had concluded that there was no way for the Civil War to be resolved but that he, as the cleverest man in the Marvel Universe, had a responsibility to put things right.

 

But before turning the machine off, he searches for other realities where they have the same machines he is using; the machine locates them and the people he finds tell him that they can help him.

 

Reed Richards reappeared, refusing to give Hank Pym an invention previously left in the care of the Fantastic Four, following Bill Foster's untimely death, causing the Wasp to lead the team of Mighty Avengers to retrieve the device.

 

Then, Pym's attempting to knock down the Baxter Building (due to Loki's manipulations, likely) sows further displeasure and leads to a direct conflict between the Fantastic Four and Loki's Mighty Avengers.

 

This conflict eventually ends in a new base for the Mighty Avengers and a shockingly disturbing alliance of the Dark Reign.

 

A new character is then seen, a ruler known as the Unspoken, one more powerful than any other in the universe, to the point he had to be erased from history, and how his return will impact the planet and the cosmos beyond, in the War of Kings.

 

After the Secret Invasion and some time into the Dark Reign, in the War of Kings, when Blastaar is about to open the portal to Earth, on the other side in Camp Hammond, Star-Lord and the Guardians tell Reed Richards and others to never open the portal, or they will face the wrath of Blastaar.

 

Mister Fantastic agrees and says they will not open the portal and then asks who they are. Star-Lord replies, "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy" before leaving.

 

Future Foundation

 

Tragedy strikes the team when Johnny is apparently killed in the Negative Zone. As the Fantastic Four recover from Johnny's apparent death, Mister Fantastic grows disillusioned at how scientists see science and its applications.

 

Therefore, he creates a new team, the Future Foundation, to help create a better future for mankind.

 

However, the team's initial tasks are complicated when they are forced to deal with the 'Council of Reeds', a group of alternate versions of Reed Richards who lack his morality or family that became trapped in the FF's reality after an accident with Reed's dimensional portal.

 

The Quiet Man

 

After Johnny is returned and the team resume using the Fantastic Four name, they are systematically attacked by the mysterious Quiet Man, a figure who reveals that he has been behind many of the villain attacks the FF have faced over the years, now stepping forward to take a more active role as he shuts down Johnny's powers, frames the Thing for murder, has Reed and Sue Richards declared unfit guardians for their children, and then abducts Reed with the intention of framing him for a series of attacks committed by the heroes created in Franklin's pocket universe.

 

However, Reed is able to defeat the Quiet Man's plan to proclaim himself the hero who defeated Reed's 'attack' on the world when he realizes that the Psycho-Man - one of the Quiet Man's allies - intended to betray him, forcing Reed and the Quiet Man to work together to deactivate the Psycho-Man's equipment.

 

Secret Wars

 

During the Secret Wars storyline, Reed is one of the few survivors of Earth-616 to come through with his memories intact, hiding in a 'life raft' with various other heroes and eventually released by Doctor Strange.

 

Learning that the new 'Battleworld' is now ruled by Doctor Doom, who has absorbed the power of various Beyonders and Molecule Men to become a virtual god, Reed and the other heroes disperse across Battleworld to come up with a plan.

 

Reed eventually starts working with his counterpart from the Ultimate Marvel universe who calls himself Maker. The two find themselves disagreeing on their methods, with Reed preferring to find a way to save the world while Maker is more focused on killing their enemy, Reed countering his other self's accusations that he is weak by musing that he simply has things to care for outside of himself.

 

In the final confrontation, Reed and the Maker discover that the source of Doom's power is the Molecule Man (Owen Reece), but although the Maker attempts to betray Reed by transforming him into the appearance of an ape, Reece reverses the Maker's attack and turns him into pepperoni pizza.

 

When Doom comes down to confront Reed, Reed challenges Doom as Reece temporarily deprives Doom of his new god-level powers, Reed proclaiming Doom to be nothing more than a coward for taking control of what was left of existence rather than trying to reshape it.

 

Inspired by Reed's words, Reece transfers Doom's power to him, with Reed recreating the former Earth-616 before he, Susan, their children, and the rest of the Future Foundation move to use Franklin and Reed's powers to rebuild the multiverse.

 

eturn to Prime Earth

 

Mister Fantastic, Invisible Woman, and the Future Foundation were later confronted by the Griever at the End of All Things after Reed had expended most of his Beyonder-based energies while Franklin was left with only limited reality-warping abilities.

 

Due to the Griever causing the collapse of 100 worlds, the Future Foundation had to make a stand even after Molecule Man was killed. When Mister Fantastic tricked the Griever into bringing their Fantastic Four teammates to them, Thing and Human Torch were reunited, and every other superhero that was part of the Fantastic Four showed up as well.

 

Faced with these numbers, the Griever was eventually driven back when most of her equipment was destroyed, forcing her to return to her universe or be trapped in this one, while the heroes were able to repair the damaged equipment to create a new teleporter to send them all home.

 

Powers and abilities

 

Reed Richards gained the power of elasticity from irradiation by cosmic rays. He has the ability to convert his entire body into a highly malleable state at will, allowing him to stretch, deform, and reform himself into virtually any shape.

 

Richards has been observed as being able to utilize his stretching form in a variety of offensive and defensive manners, such as compressing himself into a ball and ricocheting into enemies, flattening himself into a trampoline or a parachute to catch a falling teammate, or inflating himself into a life raft to aid in a water rescue.

 

He can willfully reduce his body's cohesion until he reaches a fluid state, which can flow through minute openings or into tiny pipes. Reed is also able to shape his hands into hammer and mace style weapons, and concentrate his mass into his fists to increase their density and effectiveness as weapons.

 

Having an elastic-like texture allows Reed protection from damage. He can be punched with incredible force, flattened, squished, and still re-form or survive without any form of sufficient injury.

 

Reed's control over his shape has been developed to such a point that he has been able to radically alter his facial features and his entire physical form to pass among human and non-humans unnoticed and unrecognized.

 

He has even molded himself into the shapes of inanimate objects, such as a mailbox. He rarely uses his powers in such an undignified fashion. However, he appears to have no qualms about stretching out his ears, taking the shape of a dinosaur, becoming a human trampoline, or inflating his hands into pool toys to entertain his children.

 

The most extreme demonstration of Reed's powers is when at one point he was able to increase his size and mass to Thing-like proportions which also increased his physical strength.

 

Assuming and maintaining these shapes used to require extreme effort. Due to years of mental and physical training, Reed can now perform these feats at will. His powers (and those of the Red Ghost) were also increased when they were exposed to a second dose of cosmic rays.

 

Maintaining his body's normal human shape requires a certain degree of ongoing concentration. When Reed is relaxed and distracted, his body appears to "melt in slow motion" according to Susan Storm.

 

Being forcefully stretched to extremes during a short span of time (by a taffy-puller-type machine or a strong character, for example) causes Reed to suffer intense pain and the temporary loss of his natural elastic resiliency.

 

He possesses other weaknesses too; a great shock to his body - for example, from the likes of Doctor Doom when he constructs around him - can make his body so rubbery he loses motor control. Enough energy can reduce him to a liquid state in which he is immobile.

 

Mister Fantastic's strength comes more from the powers of his mind than the powers of his body; indeed, he once told Spider-Man that he considers his stretching powers to be expendable compared to his intellect.

 

Some accounts have implied that his intellect may have been boosted by his powers, as he once visited an alternate universe where his other self-had never been exposed to cosmic rays and was notably less intelligent than him, though purely human versions of Reed that are as or even more intelligent than himself have been shown, particularly among the Council of Reeds.

 

Tony Stark has commented that Reed's ability to make his brain physically larger (via his elastic powers) gives him an advantage, though this seems to be meant more as a joke. That said, scenes from the same event show Reed "inflating" his skull as he calculates the power output of Tony's Repulsor-battery heart implant.

 

For virtually his entire history, Mister Fantastic has been depicted as one of the most intelligent characters in the Marvel Universe.

 

A visionary theoretician and an inspired machine smith, he has made breakthroughs in such varied fields as space travel, time travel, extra-dimensional travel, biochemistry, robotics, computers, synthetic polymers, communications, mutations, transportation, holography, energy generation, and spectral analysis, among others.

 

However, he is never afraid to admit when others have greater expertise in certain fields than him, such as recognizing that Doctor Octopus possesses greater knowledge of radiation, that Hank Pym is a superior biochemist, or that Spider-Man can think of a problem from a biology perspective where he would be unable to do so, since his expertise is in physics.

 

Richards has earned Ph.D.s in Mathematics, Physics, and Engineering. His patents are so valuable that he is able to bankroll the Fantastic Four, Inc., without any undue financial stress.

 

Mind control is rarely effective on him and when it does work, it wears off sooner than it would on a normal person, due to what he describes as an "elastic consciousness".

 

However, this intelligence can be a handicap in his dealings with magic, as it required an intense lesson from Doctor Strange and facing the threat of his son being trapped in a hellish environment for Reed to fully acknowledge that the key to using magic was to accept that he would never understand it.

 

Richards is also an accomplished fighter due to his years of combat experience with the Fantastic Four, and has earned a black belt in judo.

 

Following the Battleworld crisis, Reed acquired the powers of the Beyonders that were once wielded by Doom, but he relied on his son Franklin's creativity and new powers to help him recreate the multiverse after the incursions destroyed the other parallel universes.

 

Equipment and technology

 

Although the Fantastic Four have numerous devices, crafts, and weapons, there are some items that Reed Richards carries with him at all times.

 

Fantastiflare: Launches a fiery "4" into the sky that is used during combat situations to let other members of the group know their location.

 

Uniform Computer: Like all the Fantastic Four's costumes and the rest of Reed's wardrobe, his suit is made of "unstable molecules". This means that the suit is attuned to his powers, which is why Johnny's costume doesn't burn when he "flames on", Sue's costume turns invisible when she does, and Reed's costume stretches with him.

 

The costume also insulates them from electrical assaults. In addition, the team's uniforms are also, in essence, wearable computers. Their costumes have a complete data processing and telemetry system woven into the material of the uniform on a molecular level.

 

This forms a network with the entire team, providing a constant, real-time uplink of everyone's physical condition as well as their location and current situation.

 

The suit is capable of displaying data and touch-pad controls on the gauntlets. Its sensors can track all of the team's uniforms and provide a picture of their immediate vicinity.

 

The suit has an intricate scanner system which can detect things around the wearer, from how many people are in the next room to what dimension or planet they are on.

 

Reed can also up-link the bodysuit to any computer by stretching his fingertips to filament size and plugging them into an I/O data-port. With this, Reed can establish a fairly comprehensive database of any computer's cybernetic protocols and encryption algorithms.

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

 

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Alter Ego: Reed Richards

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: The Fantastic Four #1 (Nov. 1961)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (writer)

Jack Kirby (artist)

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.

On April 26 four years ago, I adopted Blanca from an animal shelter for the price of $100. That's like paying 1 penny for the Hope Diamond!!

 

After having several previous (wonderful!) dogs, I knew exactly what kind of dog personality I was looking for in my next and also knew myself better with age. As a result, we are perfectly suited and are finely attuned to each other. She is part of me.

 

I bought her four cute new toys, one for each year! :)

 

Please adopt your next dog from a shelter - they are the best!

summmer; trees; colours; hues; leaves; nature; street; city; spring; ShikhersImagery;

Excerpt from www.blackwoodgallery.ca/program/movement-two-ecology:

 

When every basic system–environmental, political, economic and social–is in crisis and facing collapse, the media can be overwhelming. The sheer glut of information and misinformation circulating from trusted sources and deniers alike create an endless cycle of current events too heavy to dwell on, too extensive to fully comprehend. How do we, on a human scale, contend with all of this news?

 

In an effort to rouse the public out of resignation and passive acceptance of the state of the planet, Christina Battle’s series how to make sense out of the nonsensical compels viewers to pay attention to the ways our ecology is intertwined with systems of power, exchange, and extraction. Each image contains recent news headlines that focus on climate change, and also address topics like the war in Ukraine, the COVID-19 pandemic, the economy, conspiracy, and social uprisings. Like relics of catastrophe, the headlines are surface-level fragments and sound bites of an entangled, complex web of events and actions that have led to dire consequences.

 

Across the series, Battle offers prompts that seed the impulse to regain a sense of agency against fatalistic attitudes: “FOLLOW THE THREADS OF THE NETWORK,” “ATTUNE TO HOW INFORMATION TRAVELS,” “CONSIDER WHO YOU ARE IN RELATION WITH,” “OUR RELATIONSHIP IS SYMBIOTIC.” With each statement, Battle cuts through the noise of the news with strategies of empathy and criticality that foster collective resilience and action. The analogies between the natural and more-than-human world, urge viewers to recognize social and ecological relationships. These statements are not intended to be a utopian antidote, but rather achievable and persistent empowerments.

 

This program of images forms part two of a three-part exhibition, This Unfathomable Weight, which animates outdoor lightboxes across the UTM campus and billboards in Mississauga throughout the 2022–2023 academic year. The exhibition grapples publicly with how we make sense of living through the massive crises of recent years. Through an understanding of trauma as a psychic rupture, where meaning-making has been suspended, deferred, or displaced, the project carves out space for reparative gestures of across personal, societal and spiritual registers.