View allAll Photos Tagged BobDylan

Mixed media: drawing paper, assorted papers (cut and torn), adhesives, paint, permanent markers, colored pencils, nail polish, gel sealer.

 

I often have a difficult time deciding on titles for my abstract works. In a pinch, I call them "Abstract..." followed by a number to represent the date when I completed the image.

 

I had used several papers with text. I happened to notice that about a third of the way from the bottom, it says "Bob Dylan." So I searched for Dylan song lyrics and decided on "Blowin' in the Wind" for my title. (Hit the Z key to see it slightly larger to find the "Bob Dylan" text.)

 

Although this will be framed with glass, I photograph my work in the frames without glass to avoid reflections. I found this 8x10-inch blue metal frame including glass at Ollie's for about $2.00. I've had it for about a year, just waiting to create something that would look great in it.

In 1965 poet Allen Ginsberg arranged for Larry Keenan and fellow student photographer Dale Smith to photograph him, Michael McClure and Bob Dylan in the alleyway behind City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco. The images were never used. The session was arranged the night before at a party after Bob Dylan's concert at the Berkeley Community Theater.

 

Michael McClure (1932- ) is an American poet, playwright, songwriter, and novelist. His poetry is heavily infused with an awareness of nature. He has published eight books of plays, fourteen books of poetry and four collections of essays, including essays on Bob Dylan and the environment.

 

Irwin Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) was an American poet and one of the leading figures of both the "Beat Generation" of the 1950s and the counterculture that soon would follow. He vigorously opposed militarism, economic materialism and sexual repression.

 

Bob Dylan (Robert Allen Zimmerman, 1941- ) is an American singer-songwriter, author, and artist who has been an influential figure in popular music and culture for more than five decades. Much of his most celebrated work dates from the 1960s, when he became a reluctant "voice of a generation" with songs like "Blowin' in the Wind" and "The Times They Are a-Changin'" which became anthems for the Civil Rights Movement and anti-war movement.

 

Larry Keenan is an internationally noted San Francisco Bay Area photographer. His prized photographs are in museums and private collections throughout the world.

Quante strade deve percorrere un uomo

prima di essere chiamato uomo?

E quanti mari deve superare una colomba bianca

prima che si addormenti sulla spiaggia?

E per quanto tempo dovranno volare le palle di cannone

prima che verranno abolite per sempre?

La risposta, mio amico sta soffiando nel vento,

la risposta sta soffiando nel vento

 

Per quanto tempo un uomo deve guardare in alto

prima che riesca a vedere il cielo?

E quanti orecchie deve avere un uomo

prima che ascolti la gente piangere?

E quanti morti ci dovranno essere affinché lui sappia

che troppa gente è morta?

La risposta, mio amico sta soffiando nel vento,

la risposta sta soffiando nel vento

 

Per quanti anni una montagna può esistere

prima che venga spazzata via dal mare?

E per quanti anni può la gente esistere

prima di avere il permesso di essere libere

E per quanto tempo può un uomo girare la sua testa

fingendo di non vedere

La risposta, mio amico sta soffiando nel vento,

la risposta sta soffiando nel vento

 

Bob Dylan - Blowin' in the wind

 

L'anima libera è rara, ma quando la vedi la riconosci, soprattutto perché provi un senso di benessere quando gli sei vicino. Charles Bukowski ....beh, nipotì...questo è quello che provo io quando ti sono vicina!!! Ti voglio un mondo di bene!!!!

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

 

youtu.be/D_XPK9eU2BU

 

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

Love Sick

 

I’m walking through streets that are dead

Walking, walking with you in my head

My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired

And the clouds are weeping

 

Did I hear someone tell a lie?

Did I hear someone’s distant cry?

I spoke like a child; you destroyed me with a smile

While I was sleeping

 

I’m sick of love but I’m in the thick of it

This kind of love I’m so sick of it

 

I see, I see lovers in the meadow

I see, I see silhouettes in the window

I watch them ’til they’re gone and they leave me hanging on

To a shadow

 

I’m sick of love; I hear the clock tick

This kind of love; I’m love sick

 

Sometimes the silence can be like the thunder

Sometimes I feel like I’m being plowed under

Could you ever be true? I think of you

And I wonder

 

I’m sick of love; I wish I’d never met you

I’m sick of love; I’m trying to forget you

 

Just don’t know what to do

I’d give anything to be with you

 

Bob Dylan

 

Photographed 29 March 2016 / iPad mini using the Vintage Camera application : image was edited on an iPad mini using the snap seed application.

No Direction Home is a documentary film by Martin Scorsese that traces the life of Bob Dylan, and his impact on 20th-century American popular music and culture.No Direction Home is a documentary film by Martin Scorsese that traces the life of Bob Dylan, and his impact on 20th-century American popular music and culture.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Direction_Home

June 23, 2016: Minneapolis, USA. Stefan Blomberg Photography - www.stefanblombergphotography.com

This build is inspired by the Bob Dylan lyric “My love is like some raven at my window with a broken wing.”

Almost by the hour this season.

 

Song: Bob Dylan, 1964 (since and before)

Bob Dylan, on an Etch-a-Sketch.

 

the Etchasketchist

Homage to Bob ,

recently awarded the Nobel prize for literature,and the voice of my generation ?

Flicker x 100 2017 challenge. 24/100 Theme- Bob Dylan songs Evangelical Phase.

 

From the years 1979 to1981, Dylan, born a Jew, became a born-again Christian, releasing three albums reflecting his new found evangelicalism (Slow Train Coming, Saved and Shot of Love). While Dylan has often used religious and biblical imagery in his lyrics, he had never before dedicated entire songs and albums in such an overtly religious way. It seemed out of character for such a counter-culture icon. Of course this alienated fans although it was also a period where he was most engaging with the audience and he managed to utter more than two words during a concert, often preacher style. However, during this phase, he still produced some beautiful songs with evocative imagery. Listen to Every Grain of Sand vimeo.com/61822795.

 

Some info sourced from www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/b...

 

Of Dylan's conversion he says that late in 1978 he sensed “a presence in the room that couldn’t have been anybody but Jesus”, and even felt a hand placed upon him. “

  

I have sat on this image for awhile due to the circumstances around the time I took it. It was during the January school holidays when I took my daughter into the city for some shopping and photography. It was just after lunch and we were sitting on a bench in the sunshine of the Bourke St Mall, enjoying the street performers and buskers. I saw the bike and as I was on the lookout for images for my Dylan Challenge, I thought this would work as a representation for his religious phase. The next day, just after lunch, a young man with a history of mental illness, drug use and family violence drove down the Mall, including where we had been sitting, deliberately running into pedestrians. Six people died and over 30 were injured, and many, many more left traumatised by what they saw. I was haunted by how the author of this sign may have interpreted the incident and the fact that it could have been my daughter and I. One is tempted to use the words "but for the grace of God" and relate it to the image but I find that offensive as what does that leave for the people who did die and who lost loved ones in a most random and horrific way?

 

By 1982 Dylan returned to Judaism. He has just released a Bootleg called Trouble No More: The Bootleg Series Vol 13/1979-1981 which covers this period.

 

Apologies for length of post

   

all glazed and ready to go.

... So the Sibyl told me, after she wrote her prophecies on leaves.

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,

Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,

With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,

Let me forget about today until tomorrow."

— Bob Dylan

 

One of many of my fav songs by Bob Dylan www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMawmUQ8VvU

She was married when we first meet

Soon to be divorced

I helped her out of a jam I guess

But I used a little too much force

We drove that car as far as we could

Abandoned it out West

Split it up on a dark sad night

Both agreeing it was best

She turned around to look at me

As I was walking away

I heard her say over my shoulder

"We'll meet again someday on the avenue"

Tangled up in blue.

 

Bob Dylan - Tangled Up In Blue

 

I went out in the Backyard this morning and took a few photos, it was nice not shooting my face!

 

Happy Saturday :-)

route mobile

western anbar province

iraq

may 2008

 

god is at the wheel

of a ’57 chevy

bel-air nomad

uparmored with

steel plates

and sand bags

over the hood,

a weapons platform

for an m2

heavy machine gun,

a turbo-charged engine

a fully armored

passenger compartment.

and a christmas tree

air freshener hanging from

the rear view mirror

 

manning the m2

is lance cpl. nate windsor.

“jesus! it’s hot, he says.

“you’re telling me,” says god,

turning and winking

at the buddhas

who are sitting in the back,

nervously playing

with their gameboys

 

“sir … uh … where’d you

get this vehicle?” asks windsor.

“the motor pool was all out of humvees,”

says god, firing up a lucky strike.

“you go to war with the army you have,”

he continues,

“not the army you might want or wish

to have at a later time, right, boys?”

god turns again to the buddhas

who are all wearing flak jackets

and helmets that look to be

several sizes too big.

sweat is running down their faces.

 

“where are you from, son,” asks god

“twenty nine palms, california,

you’ve heard of it, sir?” says windsor.

“near joshua tree, right? says god.

“yes, sir,” says windsor.

“we’ve been there

a time or two,” says god,

as he slowly exhales

blue smoke from the lucky.

 

“what the hell you doing here,” asks god.

“i enlisted

the day after my 19th birthday,” says windsor.

“didn’t tell my dad

until after i finished basic,” he adds

“why’d you sign up?”

“wanted to be the savior of the broken,

the beaten and the damned,” says windsor.

“say again?” says god.

“the lyrics from my favorite song, sir.

i mean to say,

i just wanted to make a difference,” says windsor.

“you have, son,

rest assured, you have,” says god.

 

“sir?” asks windsor

“yes,” says god.

“i was wondering … is there some

particular reason why ‘mister tambourine man’

keeps playing over and over again?”

“sorry,” says god, taking another long,

pensive drag on his lucky.

“is there something else you’d like to hear?” asks god.

“how about welcome to the black parade

by my chemical romance,” says windsor, with a laugh.

 

the songs begins to play on the radio:

when i was a young boy,

my father took me into the city

to see a marching band.

he said, ‘son when you grow up,

would you be the savior of the broken,

the beaten and the damned?’

he said ‘will you defeat them,

your demons, and all the non-believers,

the plans that they have made?

because one day i'll leave you,

a phantom to lead you in the summer,

to join the black parade.’

“how’d you do that,” asks windsor, astonished.

“i’ve got my ways,” says god.

 

god squints pensively

through the bullet resistant

windshield.

up ahead lies an oasis

the men call “the woods.”

he sees

a company of marines

on foot patrol,

handing out candy

to the kids who live there.

 

suddenly,

a single, iranian

incendiary bullet

from an austrian

.50 caliber

steyr-mannlicher sniper rifle

pierces the armor

on the ’57 chevy.

windsor falls back into

the passenger compartment

blood spurting from

a through and through wound

to his neck

caused by a jagged splinter

of the fragmented bullet.

 

“damn,” yells god

as he turns quickly

to the right

behind a stone wall.

god puts his hands

over the wounds.

blood gushes between

his fingers.

windsor stares up,

unable to speak.

god leans down

his face to the side

of windsor’s face,

temple to temple.

but within the hour,

windsor dies.

 

“windsor has buddha nature,”

say the buddhas,

sitting motionless.

 

god gets out of the ’57 chevy

and stands

with his back to the scene,

staring down the road

“i feel a sandstorm coming,”

says one of the buddhas.

 

More shots from the archives, Bob Dylan's 1978 World Tour in Melbourne at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl 20/3/1978.This was only a few weeks after the Budokan ,Japan concerts which were recorded and released as a live album.Although a Dylan fan since the early 60's this was the first time I'd seen him live. I thought it was great! I loved the production,sound and sheer professionalism of the show .My brother,being more of a purist hated it . He didn't like the extreme re-working of the songs , sexy backing singers , horns , flutes , even Dylan's suit ! It didn't put him off for life though and I've seen Dylan many times since, in the company of my brother and lately my daughter who , without any encouragement from me, is a huge fan.

—Bob Dylan (full lyrics here--it was a little too depressing for me to post the entire thing here, with such a beautiful photo!)

 

i can't believe that we've already been at war for 5+ years. it seems like such a nightmare to me. and yet, as the sigma macro lens is quick to point out, such beauty can still be found in the world, on such a small scale....am i making sense here? it's so wonderful to be a photographer right now, because it is so important to see the beauty in everyday life.

 

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#359

Someone went to a great deal of trouble to paste a huge collage of posters -- probably four feet high by six feet long -- behind the metal grating that separated a Greenwich Village townhouse from the street. I'm not sure who the personalities are; the man saluting seems to be either Bob Dylan or James Dean, but you're free to imagine anyone you want. The juxtaposition of the metal grating made it look like they were imprisoned behind the bars of a jail cell; it seemed fitting for the time.

Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past

I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast

Went to see Bob Dylan at the London Palladium I have never seen him before and he was fabulous

The Tintic Standard Reduction Mill—also known as the Tintic Mill or Harold Mill—built in 1920, and only operating from 1921 to 1925, is an abandoned refinery or concentrator located on the west slope of Warm Springs Mountain near Goshen, Utah, in the United States. Metals processed at the mill included copper, gold, silver, and lead, all of which were received from another mill near Eureka, Utah. The metal content of ore was increased through the process to make transportation less expensive. The reducing process used was an acid-brine chloridizing and leaching process which became outdated, leading to the abandonment of the site in 1925. At the mill's highest productivity it processed 200 tons of ore yearly from the Tintic Mining District.

 

What remains of the mill are foundations for water tanks, crushers, roasters, iron boxes, leaching tanks, and drain boxes. The site dominates the surrounding landscape with its size and unique colors and shapes.

 

It was designed and built by W. C. Madge. It is significant as the only American mill using the Augustin process during the early 1920s.

 

It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1978.

 

It has been speculated that the mill may be the contributor of heavy metal pollution in the Goshen Warm Springs which lie below it.

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