View allAll Photos Tagged Boldest
Three sopping wet Grizzly Bear cubs contemplating whether it is safe to cross the foaming creek to join momma. Paleface seems to be the boldest.
Weather conditions not good but who would pass up the chance to photograph them? :0)
One of my fav actors of all time Heath found dead today at his apt. in NY , they found sleeping pills with him.. He was 28 years old !
He has very amazing movies: 10 things I hate about you, Brokeback mountain, and there is an upcoming movie for him this July called ''Dark Nights'' where he plays the Joker ..
So sad that he end up this way !
NEW YORK - Heath Ledger, the talented 28-year-old actor who gravitated toward dark, brooding roles that defied his leading-man looks, was found dead Tuesday in a Manhattan apartment, face-down and naked at the foot of his bed with prescription sleeping pills nearby, police said.
There was no obvious indication that the Australian-born Ledger had committed suicide, NYPD spokesman Paul Browne said.
Ledger had an appointment for a massage at the SoHo apartment that is believed to be the home of the "Brokeback Mountain" actor, Browne said. The massage therapist and a housekeeper found his naked body in the bed at about 3:30 p.m. They tried to revive him, but he was already dead.
"We are all deeply saddened and shocked by this accident," Ledger's publicist, Mara Buxbaum, said in a statement Tuesday night. "This is an extremely difficult time for his loved ones and we are asking the media to please respect the family's privacy and avoid speculation until the facts are known."
Outside the building on an upscale street, paparazzi and gawkers gathered, and several police officers put up barricades to control the crowd of about 300. Onlookers craned their necks as officers brought out a black body bag on a gurney, took it across the sidewalk and put it into a white medical examiner's office van.
As the door opened, bystanders snapped pictures with camera phones, rolled video, and said, "He's coming out!"
An autopsy was planned for Wednesday, medical examiner's office spokeswoman Ellen Borakove said.
While not a marquee movie star, Ledger was an award-winning actor who chose his roles carefully rather than cashing in on big-money parts. He was nominated for an Oscar for his performance as a gay cowboy in "Brokeback Mountain," where he met Michelle Williams, who played his wife in the film. The two had a daughter, now 2-year-old Matilda, and lived together in Brooklyn until they split up last year.
It was a shocking and unforeseen conclusion for one of Hollywood's bright young stars. Though his leading man looks propelled him to early stardom in films like "10 Things I Hate About You" and "A Knight's Tale," his career took a notable turn toward dramatic and brooding roles with 2001's "Monster's Ball."
"I had such great hope for him," said Mel Gibson, who played Ledger's vengeful father in "The Patriot," in a statement. "He was just taking off and to lose his life at such a young age is a tragic loss."
Ledger eschewed Hollywood glitz in favor of a bohemian life in Brooklyn, where he was one of the borough's most famous residents. "Brokeback" would be his breakthrough role, establishing him as one of his generation's finest talents and an actor willing to take risks.
Ledger began to gravitate more toward independent fare, including Lasse Hallstrom's "Casanova" and Terry Gilliam's "The Brothers Grimm," both released in 2005. His 2006 film "Candy" now seems destined to have an especially haunting quality: In a particularly realistic performance, Ledger played a poet wrestling with a heroin addiction along with his girlfriend, played by Abbie Cornish.
But Ledger's most recent choices were arguably the boldest yet: He costarred in "I'm Not There," in which he played one of the many incarnations of Bob Dylan as did Cate Blanchett, whose performance in that film earned an Oscar nomination Tuesday for best supporting actress.
And in what may be his final finished performance, Ledger proved that he wouldn't be intimidated by taking on a character as iconic as Jack Nicholson's Joker. Ledger's version of the "Batman" villain, glimpsed in early teaser trailers, made it clear that his Joker would be more depraved and dark.
Curiosity about Ledger's final performance will likely stoke further interest in the summer blockbuster. "Dark Knight" director Christopher Nolan said earlier this month that Ledger's Joker would be wildly different from Nicholson's.
"It was a very great challenge for Heath," Nolan said. "He's extremely original, extremely frightening, tremendously edgy. A very young character, a very anarchic presence that taps into a lot of our basic fears and panic."
Ledger told The New York Times in a November interview that he "stressed out a little too much" during the Dylan film, and had trouble sleeping while portraying the Joker, whom he called a "psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy."
"Last week I probably slept an average of two hours a night," Ledger told the newspaper. "I couldn't stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going." He said he took two Ambien pills, which only worked for an hour, the paper said.
Ledger was a widely recognized figure in his Manhattan neighborhood, where he used to shop at a home and children's store. Michelle Vella, an employee there, said she had frequently seen Ledger with his daughter carrying the toddler on his shoulders, or having ice cream with her.
"It's so sad. They were really close," said Vella. "He's a very down-to-earth guy and an amazing father."
Before settling down with Williams, Ledger had relationships with actresses Heather Graham and Naomi Watts. He met Watts while working on "The Lords of Dogtown," a fictionalized version of a cult classic skateboarding documentary, in 2004.
Ledger was born in 1979 in Perth, in western Australia, to a mining engineer and a French teacher, and got his first acting role playing Peter Pan at age 10 at a local theater company. He began acting in independent films as a 16-year-old in Sydney and played a cyclist hoping to land a spot on an Olympic team in a 1996 television show, "Seat."
After several independent films, Ledger moved to Los Angeles at age 19 and costarred opposite Julia Stiles in "10 Things I Hate About You." Offers for other teen flicks soon came his way, but Ledger turned them down, preferring to remain idle than sign on for projects he didn't like.
"It wasn't a hard decision for me," Ledger told the Associated Press in 2001. "It was hard for everyone else around me to understand. Agents were like, 'You're crazy,' my parents were like, 'Come on, you have to eat.'"
___
This image is part of a chromatic triptych, the other 3 images in the triptych are Grooves in the Snow and Grooves in the Snow (Black & White) (I). Grooves in the Snow is the "original" colour photograph, this photograph iis Split Tone Yellow/Blue black and white conversion, while Grooves in the Snow is a straight black and white conversion of the original colour image. Like of my diptychs and triptych, my aim here was to explore how different processing techniques affect the expressivity of the resulting photograph, Grooves in the Snow is, in my opinion, the boldest of the 3 images.
a lunchtime run down to Mount Stewart and got this little lady within 20 mins and very little else. One of boldest squirrels I've seen for a while it sat 8 feet from me and munched away. Surprisingly there were next to no small birds about at the feeder site and they are normally needed to bring the squirrels in.
a lunchtime run down to Mount Stewart and got this little lady within 20 mins and very little else. One of boldest squirrels I've seen for a while it sat 8 feet from me and munched away. Surprisingly there were next to no small birds about at the feeder site and they are normally needed to bring the squirrels in.
Step into your moon boots as you embark on a thrilling journey of cosmic discovery at the Hall of Tomorrow—Tomorrow, USA’s premiere space exploration museum, brought to you by Waffle Science & Research.
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This one-of-a-kind exhibit celebrates the daring spirit of discovery that defines modern Space Age wonder. The Hall of Tomorrow isn’t just a museum, it’s a launchpad for the future!
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maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Galerie%20Gaillard/125/144...
Introducing the Haus of FAUXBERRY Harper Bodycon Mini Dress, available exclusively at the Designer Showcase event from June 5th to June 25th. This dress is sold separately in 14 colors, with the black and white sold together as a mini pack. Harper is rigged for Belleza Gen.X Classic & Gen.X Curvy, Inithium Khara & Kupra, Legacy and eBody Reborn + Waifus Boobs, ensuring a perfect fit for all body types. Made of 100% original mesh and custom hand painted textures, Harper hugs all the curves and is both sexy and daring. Colors range from the softest pastels to classic hues and the boldest and brightest of the season. Be sure to try the demo before purchasing to ensure the perfect fit. Don't forget to follow FAUXBERRY on Flickr and share your posts wearing our garments and accessories with our Flickr group. Tag Emerald Ishtari on Facebook, Flickr and Instagram to show off your style. Thank you for choosing FAUXBERRY!
♦ Haus of FAUXBERRY Main Store
Model is wearing Harper in Gray Lilac and Fauxberry Encircled Earrings in Gold.
"Once more the liberal year laughs out
O'er richer stores than gems or gold:
Once more with harvest song and shout
Is nature's boldest triumph told."
- John Greenleaf Whittier
"Winter is an etching, spring is a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."
- Stanley Horowitz
Explored - #286, October 28, 2011
Notre nouvel avenir de la mode commence par un nouvel instinct de mode. Une personne qui a soif d'être ouverte, collaborative et inclusive, et engagée à faire de la créativité un processus démocratique. Pour The Fabricant, c'est exactement ainsi qu'un atelier numérique doit se comporter. La technologie est destinée à créer des liens et non des divisions.
Actuellement, l'équipe travaille sur un projet appelé "Re-veil", une collection de coiffes qui remet en question leur fonction historique en tant que couvertures pour cacher son identité et les réinvente plutôt comme des outils pour une expression de soi sans peur. Notre moi le plus audacieux révélé et re-voilé.
Re-veil est co-créé avec Teresa Manzo, la talentueuse artiste numérique qui a récemment remporté notre concours #makingstrides et dont nous trouvons le travail inspirant. La collaboration finale tombera sur la plateforme d'art numérique de la Fondation le 13 mai sous forme de NFT en édition limitée.
Our new fashion future starts with a new fashion instinct. A person who craves to be open, collaborative and inclusive, and committed to making creativity a democratic process. For The Fabricator, this is exactly how a digital workshop should behave. Technology is meant to connect, not divide.
Currently, the team is working on a project called "Re-veil", a collection of headdresses that questions their historical function as covers to hide one's identity and instead reimagines them as tools for fearless self-expression. Our boldest selves revealed and re-veiled.
Re-veil is co-created with Teresa Manzo, the talented digital artist who recently won our #makingstrides competition and whose work we find inspiring. The final collaboration will drop on the Foundation's digital art platform on May 13 as a limited-edition NFT.
"Daylight Pass:" Many of the wildflowers in Death Valley were boldest and most congregated near the roads. I have noticed this in Arizona also, that the wild sunflowers that bloom late summer often sprout just adjacent to the busy highway, as if to add cheer to the motorists traveling through. Here, daylight breaks on a mountain as the few clouds scatter some color onto the sky's palette, and the wildflowers await their turn in the sun.
Sophia is also a kind of real symbol and revealed Name for what Orthodox theology calls “divinization,” meaning the fullness of participation in the life of God.
-Sophia: The Hidden Christ of Thomas Merton
by Christopher Pramuk
this study will suggest, with Merton’s life as witness, that the remembrance of Sophia holds significant promise for invigorating (I do not say “centering”) christological and trinitarian discourse in response to these increasingly fractured, technological, industrialized, and militarized times. Bound up closely with the biblical doctrine of creation and the patristic doctrines of incarnation, divinization, and grace, a Wisdom or Sophia-inspired Christology offers a compelling narrative and metaphysical framework for making old things new again in theological discourse, for reimagining God’s vital presence in the natural world, and for reaffirming in boldest dogmatic terms the transcendent dignity of human persons everywhere.
--Sophia: The Hidden Christ of Thomas Merton
by Christopher Pramuk
Three little red fox kits were playing in a forest clearing. The boldest, perched in the center, climbed atop his two siblings like a tiny king on his throne. Together, they became a mountain of mischief and tenderness. United, they were unstoppable.
Every leap and tumble was an adventure, this mischievous trio ready to conquer the world, forever bound by their joy and solidarity.
They’ve grown so much since this moment, yet it remains one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve ever had the chance to witness.
Red fox kits
Québec, Canada
"Once more the liberal year laughs out
O'er richer stores than gems or gold:
Once more with harvest song and shout
Is nature's boldest triumph told."
- John Greenleaf Whittier
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCDvelFHAAo&feature=related
Au temps jadis, alors que dans toutes les régions de notre pays, les hommes œuvraient et défrichaient, elfes et fées s'étaient réfugiés en un lieu qu'ils avaient rendu inaccessible. C'était une haute vallée entourée d'une ceinture de montagnes hérissées de forêts enchevêtrées. Là, dans un décor charmant, un lac ravissant clapotait, tandis que, sur ses rives, fleurissait un éternel printemps.
Il y croissait les fleurs les plus délicates, aux couleurs irisées. Les elfes, tout menus et gracieux, voltigeaient d'une corolle à l'autre, en compagnie de papillons bigarrés. Les fées, aux longues robes diaprées, dansaient sur l'eau les soirs de clair de lune, au son d'une musique harmonieuse et légère. Flora lyse, la reine des fées, régnait sur ce domaine enchanté.
Or, un jour que tout ce petit monde s'ébattait joyeusement, une biche survient, hors d'haleine.
- Alerte! Les forêts vont s'ouvrir et les hommes envahiront votre royaume! Aussitôt on l'entoure. Les questions pleuvent:
- Quand? - Comment? - Pourquoi? - Les hommes, merci ! On se passe de leur société! La reine Flora lyse saura bien lancer aux alentours des sortilèges qui empêcheront leur intrusion! Toutefois, elle, qui vient de discourir longuement avec la biche, secoue gravement la tête. Non, aucune magie ne pourra agir en l'occurrence: ceux qui projettent de venir dans la vallée sont des moines. Dieu les protège.
- Dans ce cas, remarque Prunet, l'elfe aux ailes violettes, ils ne nous feront pas de mal! - Non, certainement pas, admet la reine. Mais en abattant une partie des forêts, ils ouvriront un passage aux vents et aux l'hiver pénétrera derrière eux. Puis, peu à peu, d’autres hommes viendront et s'établiront sur nos rives. qu'allons-nous devenir? disent les elfes en s'asseyant par terre, prêts à pleurer.
- Ne commencez pas à pleurnicher, protestent Luciole et Myrtille, les fées qui vivent à la lisière des bois. Si les hommes sont vraiment trop rudes pour le petit peuple que nous sommes, nous nous retirerons au fond du lac, voilà tout! Qu'en pense notre gracieuse souveraine?
- La première chose à faire, décide Floralyse, en dressant fièrement sa tête mignonne couronnée de fleurs d'or, est d'envoyer des messagers qui, à leur insu, observeront les hommes s'apprêtant à envahir notre vallée. S'ils se révèlent moins frustes que nous le supposons, il y aura peut-être possibilité de communiquer avec eux.
- Et si ce sont des rustres? interroge Liseron, le fragile elfe bleu à la voix cristalline.
- Dans ce cas, comme l'ont dit Luciole et Myrtille, il faudra nous résoudre à disparaître dans les demeures souterraines où nous créerons un palais qui abritera fleurs rares, insectes trop fragiles, oiseaux et animaux désirant nous accompagner dans notre exil.
Sans tarder davantage, le petit peuple commence ses investigations. Liseron et Prunet, les plus hardis parmi les elfes, se proposent comme observateurs. L'un quitte la vallée guidé par un rouge-gorge, l'autre s'en va dans la direction opposée, accompagné d'une abeille expérimentée.
Ils reparaissent le lendemain, épuisés de fatigue et stupéfaits de ce qu'ils ont vu et entendu. Elfes et fées les écoutent, consternés, tandis qu'ils présentent leurs rapports à la reine Floralyse.
- Hélas! Majesté, annonce Prunet, à mon avis, nous ne pouvons cohabiter avec les hommes. Jamais ils ne nous comprendront. Ils ne savent ni voir, ni entendre ce que la nature leur dispense, et cherchent le bonheur je ne sais où, sans remarquer toutes les joies qu'ils ont à leur portée.
- J'ai chanté pour eux mes plus douces mélodies, se désole Liseron, personne n'y a pris garde.
- J'ai dansé dans un rayon de lune et nul ne l'a remarqué, s'indigne Prunet.
- Comment est-ce possible! murmurent tous les assistants. En êtes-vous sûrs?
- Je crois, dit alors la reine Floralyse, que ces faits sont tristement exacts. Toutefois, avant de prendre une décision, je vais tenter quelques expériences et me rendre en personne sur les lieux. Que l'on amène mon char volant!
Anxieux, le petit peuple voit s'éloigner sa souveraine, dans un pétale de rose traîné par des libellules. Heureusement, elle ne tarde pas à reparaître.
- Non, crie-t-elle avant même d'atterrir, ne nous mêlons pas à de pareilles gens. J'ai fait éclore pour eux des fleurettes exquises et ils les ont foulées aux pieds. Vite, au travail, quittons la surface de la terre!
Lorsque les hommes arrivèrent à la vallée qu'ils nommèrent « Joux » à cause de ses forêts, le petit peuple vivait heureux dans un palais souterrain dont on voit toujours les orifices. Le rocher qui émerge parfois dans le lac n'est autre que le sommet de sa tour.
In olden days, whereas in all regions of our country, the men were working and cleared, elves and fairies had taken refuge in a place they had rendered inaccessible. It was a high valley surrounded by a ring of mountains bristling with tangled forests. There, in a charming setting, a beautiful lake lapped, while on its banks, flourishing an eternal spring.
There grew the most delicate flowers, iridescent colors. The elves, all menus and graceful, fluttering from a corolla to another, accompanied by colorful butterflies. The fairies, the variegated robes, danced on the water in the evening moonlight, the sound of harmonious music and light. Flora lysis, the fairy queen, ruled this enchanted domain.
But one day that all this little world frolicked happily, a deer comes out of breath.
- Warning! The forests are open and men invade your kingdom! Immediately surrounding it. The questions rained:
- When? - How? - Why? - Men, thank you! It happens to their company! Queen Flora lysis will run well around the spells that will prevent their intrusion! However, she comes to talk at length with the doe, shaking his head gravely. No, no magic can act in this case: those who plan to come to the valley are monks. God protects them.
- In this case, note Prunet, the elf with purple wings, they will do us no harm! - No, certainly not the queen admits. But by breaking down some of the forests, they will open a passage to winds and winter penetrate behind. Then, gradually, other people will come and settle on our shores. what are we becoming? say elves sitting on the floor, ready to cry.
- Do not start whining, protesting and Blueberry Firefly, fairies living at the edge of the woods. If men are really too harsh for the little people we are, we will remove the lake bottom, that's all! What does our gracious sovereign?
- The first thing to do, decides Floralyse, standing proudly in his cute head crowned with golden flowers, is to send messengers who, unbeknownst to them, observe the men preparing to invade our valley. If they are less crude than we suppose, there might be able to communicate with them.
- And if they are clowns? Bindweed questioned the fragile elf blue crystalline voice.
- In this case, as stated Firefly and Bilberry, we must resign ourselves to disappear into the underground dwellings where we will create a palace to house rare flowers, insects too fragile birds and animals who wish to accompany us in our exile.
Without further delay, the little people begin its investigations. Bindweed and Prunet, the boldest among the elves, offer themselves as observers. One leaves the valley guided by a robin, the other goes in the opposite direction, with an experienced bee.
They reappeared the next day, exhausted from fatigue and amazed at what they saw and heard. Elves and fairies are listening, dismayed, as they present their reports to the queen Floralyse.
- Alas! Majesty announced Prunet, in my opinion, we can not live with men. They never understand us. They can neither see nor hear what nature provides them, and seek happiness I know not where, but notice all the joy they have at their disposal.
- I sang for them my sweetest melodies, laments bindweed, nobody has noticed.
- I danced in the moonlight and no one has noticed, indignant Prunet.
- How is it possible? murmur all present. Are you sure?
- I think, "said the queen Floralyse that these facts are sadly true. However, before making a decision, I will try some experiments and go in person to the scene. Whether you take my flying car!
Anxious, the small nation's sovereignty is further away, in a rose petal drawn by dragonflies. Fortunately, it does not take long to reappear.
- No, cried even before she landed, we did not mingle with such people. I hatched for them exquisite flowers and they were trampled. Quick, to work, leaving the surface of the earth!
When the men arrived at the valley which they named "Joux" because of its forests, the little people lived happily in an underground palace which we always see the holes. The rock which sometimes emerges in the lake is just the top of his tower.
Domi
Les années 20 ont été dominés par les figures de l'avant garde moderniste. Rodtchenko, constructivisme, Moholy - Nagy, Bauhaus, Man Ray, Surréalisme
László Moholy-Nagy
American, born Hungary, 1895–1946
ABOUT THIS ARTWORK
Over the winter and spring of 1927–28, Bauhaus professor László Moholy-Nagy took a series of perhaps nine views looking down from the Berlin Radio Tower, one of the most exciting new constructions in the German capital. Moholy had already photographed the Eiffel Tower in Paris from below, looking up through the tower’s soaring girders. In Berlin, however, Moholy turned his camera around and pointed it straight down at the ground. This plunging perspective showed off the spectacular narrowness of the Radio Tower, finished in 1926, which rose vertiginously to a height of 450 feet from a base seven times smaller than that of its Parisian predecessor (which opened in 1889). Moholy attached exceptional importance to this, his boldest image: he hung it just above his name in a room devoted to his work at the Berlin showing of Film und Foto, a mammoth traveling exhibition that he had helped to prepare. Moholy also chose this view and one other to offer Julien Levy, the pioneering art dealer, when Levy visited him in Berlin in 1930. The following year the pictures went on view at the Levy Gallery in New York, in Moholy’s first solo exhibition of photographs.
Artist
Introducing the Haus of FAUXBERRY Bijou Earring Set, available exclusively at the Designer Showcase event from October 5th to October 25th. Bijou is sold as a 12 color fatpack with 5 metal options to mix-and-match as you desire. Made of 100% original mesh and custom hand painted textures, Bijou is the perfect addition to your look for day or night. Colors range from the softest pastels to classic hues and the boldest and brightest of the season. Additionally, Bijou is unrigged and may be resized via touch menu. Be sure to get yours while the event lasts. Don't forget to follow FAUXBERRY on Flickr and share your posts wearing our garments and accessories with our Flickr group. Tag Emerald Ishtari on Facebook, Flickr and Instagram to show off your style. Thank you for choosing FAUXBERRY!
♦ Haus of FAUXBERRY Main Store
Our model is wearing Bijou in Pumpkin.
Monday I went to check on the flock to find Matilda had passed away. :( She is the first chicken to get a name (she was immediately Zach's favorite, so I had him name her), and the first chicken we have lost. :( Though at the bottom of the pecking order, the other girls never really picked on Matilda; she was very sweet-natured and gentle (unless there were carrot bits to be had). She was also, somewhat contradictorily, the boldest of our hens, always the first to check out whatever new thing I brought into the coop or run for the flock.
She really was a sweet, pretty little thing, and we will miss her. She did at least have a good, happy life! Thought I'd post a few last photos of her. Here, Matilda (on the left) is plotting something nefarious with fellow EE Bebe Glazer.
(It was at least *not* the flu; it was something else [I did the necropsy and some chicken friends helped me affirm my initial suspicions by looking at the photos I took] that is more congenital than anything, and nothing we could have helped.)
IN ENGLISH BELOW THE LINE
El meu amor per les Graflex SLR de principis de s. XX és total. Son realment una icona del fotoperiodisme més audaç dels anys 10-20 i 30i el seu funcionament i aparença les fa úniques. També hi ha altres reflex de gran format igual d'espectacularsperò al contrari que les Graflexcosta de trobar la manera de fer-les servir (manca de xassis o carregadors, sobretot).
Aquesta és la més petita de totes, la Graflex Auto Junior, en format 2 1/4 x 3 1/4 (quasi igual al 6x9 cm), i sorprenentment petita, per ser d'aquesta familia. De fet, es pot dir que el concepte és força similar a les futures Hasselblad, ja que apart de plaques pot fer servir pel·licula, originalment força gran, però també hi ha adaptadors al usual 120.
Aquesta càmera en contret data del periode 1914-1924, monta un objectiu Cooke Series II f4,5, el millor del cataleg. Més interesant encara és el text en daurat amb el nom del primer propietari: J. W. WATERER.
Aquest model "junior" no és RB (revolving back), pel que només pot fer fotografies horitzontals. Això és un desaventatge per a retrats, però fa la càmera més compacta. L'altre problema és que els dorsals Rollex o Rada de 120, força usuals, no hi encaixen, que que el obturador forma un bony al darrera que impedeix montar-los. Pertant només es poden fer servir dorsals antics i especifics, com el que montava en concret aquesta càmera (de marca Riteway), o els propis dorsals Graflex per a pel·licula de format 150/50, però emprant pel·licula 120 amb adaptadors. Aquí podeu veure montat el dorsal Graflex.
historiccamera.com/cgi-bin/librarium2/pm.cgi?action=app_d...
lommen9.home.xs4all.nl/junior/index.html
====================
My love for early XX Century Graflex SLRs is total. They are truly an icon of the boldest photojournalism of the 10s and 20s and 30s and their operation (and sound) and appearance make them unique. There are also other large-format reflexes that are just as spectacular, but unlike Graflex, it is difficult to find a way to use them (lack of holders or magazines, above all).
This is the smallest of all, the Graflex Auto Junior, in 2 1/4 x 3 1/4 format (almost equal to 6x9 cm), and surprisingly small, for being from this family. In fact, it can be said that the concept is quite similar to the future Hasselblad, as apart from plates you can use film, originally quite large, but there are also adapters to the usual 120.
This specific camera dates from the period 1914-1924, mounts a Taylor-Hobson Cooke Series II f4.5 lens, the best in the catalog. Even more interesting is the golden text with the name of the first owner: J. W. WATERER.
This "junior" model is not RB (revolving back), so you can only take horizontal photos. This is a disadvantage for portraits, but it does make the camera more compact. The other problem is that the Rollex or Rada film backs do not fit in, because the shutter forms a bend in the back that prevents them from being mounted. Therefore, only old and specific backs can be used, such as the one that was mounted specifically on this camera (Riteway brand), or the Graflex backs themselves, for 150/50 format film, but now using 120 film with adapters. Here you can see the Graflex back mounted.
historiccamera.com/cgi-bin/librarium2/pm.cgi?action=app_d...
One popular stork tale revolves around the folk legend that the souls of unborn children live in watery areas such as marshes, wells, springs and ponds. Since storks visit such habitats frequently, they were believed to fetch babies’ souls and deliver them to their parents.
An alternate version of this tale tells of storks finding human infants called “stork-children” dwelling in rocky caves called “Adeborsteine” or “stork-stones” and carrying them to expectant parents.
Fairy tale
Danish author Hans Christian Anderson adds a troublesome twist to this legend and lore in his fairy tale The Storks, published in 1838:
In the street below were a number of children at play, and when they caught sight of the storks, one of the boldest amongst the boys began to sing a song about them, and very soon he was joined by the rest...“Just hear what those boys are singing,” said the young storks; “they say we shall be hanged and roasted...”
“Yes, certainly,” cried the mother stork. “I have thought upon the best way to be revenged. I know the pond in which all the little children lie, waiting till the storks come to take them to their parents. The prettiest little babies lie there dreaming more sweetly than they will ever dream in the time to come. All parents are glad to have a little child, and children are so pleased with a little brother or sister. Now we will fly to the pond and fetch a little baby for each of the children who did not sing that naughty song to make game of the storks.”
“But the naughty boy, who began the song first, what shall we do to him?” cried the young storks.
“There lies in the pond a little dead baby who has dreamed itself to death,” said the mother. “We will take it to the naughty boy, and he will cry because we have brought him a little dead brother. But you have not forgotten the good boy who said it was a shame to laugh at animals: we will take him a little brother and sister too, because he was good.”
Flickr Friday
Made no more
7 days of shooting
week #2
birds
shoot anything saterday
"Once more the liberal year laughs out
O'er richer stores than gems or gold:
Once more with harvest song and shout
Is nature's boldest triumph told."
~John Greenleaf Whittier
This photo can also be found at my smugmug.
Wallaby at Swan Lake, on Phillip Island, picking up a scent in the air. This was one of the boldest kangaroo/wallabies I have seen, he posed for me for a good ten minutes and it was me that moved on to give him some peace. I spent a while in the bird hides and he was still there when I came back past.
In the photo: Growanda, Sponsored by The Akipelago
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IN ENGLISH BELOW THE LINE
El meu amor per les Graflex SLR de principis de s. XX és total. Son realment una icona del fotoperiodisme més audaç dels anys 10-20 i 30i el seu funcionament i aparença les fa úniques. També hi ha altres reflex de gran format igual d'espectacularsperò al contrari que les Graflexcosta de trobar la manera de fer-les servir (manca de xassis o carregadors, sobretot).
Aquesta és la més petita de totes, la Graflex Auto Junior, en format 2 1/4 x 3 1/4 (quasi igual al 6x9 cm), i sorprenentment petita, per ser d'aquesta familia. De fet, es pot dir que el concepte és força similar a les futures Hasselblad, ja que apart de plaques pot fer servir pel·licula, originalment força gran, però també hi ha adaptadors al usual 120.
Aquesta càmera en contret data del periode 1914-1924, monta un objectiu Cooke Series II f4,5, el millor del cataleg. Més interesant encara és el text en daurat amb el nom del primer propietari: J. W. WATERER.
Aquest model "junior" no és RB (revolving back), pel que només pot fer fotografies horitzontals. Això és un desaventatge per a retrats, però fa la càmera més compacta. L'altre problema és que els dorsals Rollex o Rada de 120, força usuals, no hi encaixen, que que el obturador forma un bony al darrera que impedeix montar-los. Pertant només es poden fer servir dorsals antics i especifics, com el que montava en concret aquesta càmera (de marca Riteway), o els propis dorsals Graflex per a pel·licula de format 150/50, però emprant pel·licula 120 amb adaptadors. Aquí podeu veure montat el dorsal Riteway.
historiccamera.com/cgi-bin/librarium2/pm.cgi?action=app_d...
lommen9.home.xs4all.nl/junior/index.html
====================
My love for early XX Century Graflex SLRs is total. They are truly an icon of the boldest photojournalism of the 10s and 20s and 30s and their operation (and sound) and appearance make them unique. There are also other large-format reflexes that are just as spectacular, but unlike Graflex, it is difficult to find a way to use them (lack of holders or magazines, above all).
This is the smallest of all, the Graflex Auto Junior, in 2 1/4 x 3 1/4 format (almost equal to 6x9 cm), and surprisingly small, for being from this family. In fact, it can be said that the concept is quite similar to the future Hasselblad, as apart from plates you can use film, originally quite large, but there are also adapters to the usual 120.
This specific camera dates from the period 1914-1924, mounts a Taylor-Hobson Cooke Series II f4.5 lens, the best in the catalog. Even more interesting is the golden text with the name of the first owner: J. W. WATERER.
This "junior" model is not RB (revolving back), so you can only take horizontal photos. This is a disadvantage for portraits, but it does make the camera more compact. The other problem is that the Rollex or Rada film backs do not fit in, because the shutter forms a bend in the back that prevents them from being mounted. Therefore, only old and specific backs can be used, such as the one that was mounted specifically on this camera (Riteway brand), or the Graflex backs themselves, for 150/50 format film, but now using 120 film with adapters. Here you can see the Riteway back mounted.
historiccamera.com/cgi-bin/librarium2/pm.cgi?action=app_d...
I always get inspired by courageous people. But then I find myself in the room of people, where I turn out to be the boldest. Maybe it is the time to start to be proud about the things I have already accomplished.
© Mari Nino Photography
| blog
One day while visiting my local fairgrounds about half a mile from my home, using my vehicle as a blind, intending to photograph a colony of Acorn Woodpeckers, I spotted some banded Bluebirds and whipped out my binoculars to see if I could get the band colors. Much to my surprise, I saw Pinky (pictured in an earlier post to my photostream). This was the first time I had seen one of our family away from our yard.
Because we often call softly to the Bluebirds just before feeding, I thought I would give it a try and much to my surprise, Pinky flew right over and landed on a bench just beside my vehicle. I spoke to her as I usually do and was amused by her cocking her little head in what I perceived to be an inquisitive manner.
Being the boldest of our family group, we often feed mealworms by hand so I stuck my arm out the window and cupped my hand as I would if I’d had a treat. Up she flew without any hesitation. When she saw that I had nothing for her, she looked me in the eye, chirped sharply and flew off in the direction of other Bluebirds in the nearby oaks.
What surprises me is that she recognized my voice away from our usual place of contact and responded as she would have had we been at home. I didn’t expect that! I think Bluebirds may be smarter than I had given them credit for.
21- Oma Forest-Immersive rhythms-Kortezubi-Bizkaia-Basque Country
Un conjunto que es una de las perspectivas mas audaces de Ibarrola. Crea un efecto de luz sobre siete arboles que surge desde el centro y a la vez converge en el usando colores vivos como el violeta y verde para potenciar la sensación..
This is one of Ibarrola's boldest pieces. On seven trees, he created the effect of light that seems both to emanate from and converge on their centre. His use of bright colours such as violet and green enhances this sensation.
Information about the Oma Forest in Photo 3 of the series. Pls zoom
Kizhi
in Lake Onega Pogost.
During the ice-free period can be reached from the northern island by boat from Petrozavodsk, Russia. Kizhi Island is called in German and one Pogost called an administrative unit in old Russia. Today Pogost does "cemetery with a church."
The outstanding building is the 35 meter high Transfiguration, which is crowned with 22 domes. It is regarded as the boldest preserved timber in Russia. It is attributed to the legendary architect Nestor, who is said to have after completion in 1714 his ax hurled into Lake Onega, "So one there was never, never get a second and there will never be one," he called allegedly in the process.
Altogether there are about 60 historic wooden buildings in Kizhi. Very few are in their rightful place, they came from other islands or the mainland. Log cabins can easily take apart and rebuild. A temptation that could not resist the historians of the postwar period. The large farms on which they were interested in belonged to anyone. Their owners, according to Soviet view rich farmers, "kulaks," were mostly distributed in the thirties or arrested. Thus able to maintain it and simultaneously created an artificial monuments of Russian wooden cultural reserve. Kishi Pogost is an open-air museum.
Lockdown has ment I've been able to spend more time with my garden birds, and I ended up (over the past year or so) encouraging the birds to feed from my hand. I've had House sparrows, great, coal and Blue tits and a Robin and breifly a few times, a starling (which was never invited, but was watching the others).
Out of the three tits, the blue tit has been the boldest and most intelligent of the three, and he has out shone the great tit in how to get my attention and knows when and where I am (which includes peering into the window and making some noise.) This has entertained my elderly neighbour, who watches from her window, and my sister, who struggles to get out has also been enjoying feeding them. Isn't nature just wonderful during stressful times!!
Oh boldest path,
penetrating into all places,
in the heights, on earth,
and in every abyss,
you bring and bind all together
From you clouds flow, air flies,
Rocks have their humours,
Rivers spring forth from the waters
And earth wears her green vigour
~Hildegard von Bingen
Alright, this may be one of the boldest and most ambitious photography-slash-Photoshop-slash-art projects I've taken on. You HAVE to check out the blog to see the back story of this image: blog.davebrosha.com/2012/03/21/venus-disarming-cupid/
A new series, where the lines blur between reality and paint.
Originally from East Africa. One of the boldest birds I've ever seen, landing 1m away from me on a branch at eye-level. Not feeling any qualms singing at his heart's content.
Taken with a 105mm macro lens (-;
Dutch: Driekleurige glansspreeuw (Lamprotornis superbus)
- Some women prowl the night... she reigns over it.
- A touch of lace, a hint of danger, and a whole lot of desire.
- In a world of whispers and secrets, she’s the boldest story ever told.
Darla had always known that some cages weren’t made of steel, but of expectation. By day, she was the epitome of grace, blending into the world’s monochrome rhythm. But by night, she slipped into her true skin—a slinky leopard-print dress, sheer stockings, and a smile that could either comfort or consume.
The city had its predators, but none as enticing as her. She ruled from the shadows of a dimly lit lounge, where the air was thick with jazz and the promise of things unspoken. Men and women alike leaned in, caught in the gravitational pull of her confidence.
Tonight was different. A stranger watched her from across the room, not with hunger, but with recognition. He saw through the illusion, past the seduction. And for the first time, Darla felt something she hadn’t in years—curiosity.
Would she let herself be unravelled? Or was this just another night in the Leopard’s Lair, where she was the one who played the game?
One thing was certain—when the hunt begins, the queen of the jungle never loses.
Darla prowled the dimly lit club, every step in her stilettos echoing power, seduction, and the silent challenge she offered to anyone daring enough to accept. Wrapped in her signature leopard-print dress, she was a walking temptation, her soft curves draped in sin and secrecy.
She ruled this world—until tonight.
A pair of sharp eyes tracked her every move, not with the usual hunger, but with something darker. Deeper. The stranger didn't just want her; he wanted to tame her.
Before she knew it, she found herself caught—not by force, but by whispered promises and the slow tightening of silk around her wrists. Darla had always toyed with control, but now, as she lay stretched across satin sheets, wrists bound above her head, ankles restrained, she felt something she never had before—power through surrender.
The ropes caressed her skin like a lover, firm yet teasing, holding her captive to every touch, every word, every command. The predator had become the prey… and she loved it.
But in this game of dominance and submission, one question remained—who was truly in control?
One thing was certain… Darla would find out before the night was over.
The Leopard’s Lair: Bound by Desire (Part 2)
The air was thick with the scent of leather and longing. Darla’s breath came in slow, measured gasps as she tested the silk binding her wrists. No give. A shiver ran through her, half anticipation, half fear. She was used to being the one who lured, who played the game with a teasing smile and a knowing glance. But tonight, she had stepped into something deeper—something she no longer controlled.
The stranger moved with deliberate patience, his silhouette barely visible in the dim candlelight. He wasn’t rushing. No, he was savouring her, the way a hunter admires his captured prey before the first taste of the kill.
"You're used to being watched, aren’t you?" His voice was low, rich, like a slow pour of whiskey down her spine. He traced a single finger from her wrist to the curve of her shoulder, just enough to leave a trail of heat.
Darla swallowed hard, her usual witty retorts failing her. Instead, she let her body answer, arching slightly against the binds, a silent invitation—or was it a challenge?
A chuckle. Dark. Knowing. "Oh, you want to play."
A sharp tug at her ankle restraints sent a thrill of helplessness through her. The soft fabric of her leopard-print dress barely covered her thighs, and with every slight movement, she felt more exposed, more vulnerable. He circled her like a predator, his fingertips ghosting over her skin, never quite giving her what she craved but making her feel every second of the wait.
Then came the blindfold.
Soft silk over her eyes, cutting off the last sliver of control she had left. The moment it settled, she heard the whisper of leather sliding through his fingers. A belt? A flogger? Something else?
She didn’t know.
And that was the most intoxicating part.
He leaned in, his lips barely brushing her ear. "You don’t need to see, darling. Tonight, you’ll feel."
The first strike was light, teasing, barely a whisper against her inner thigh. A warning. A promise.
Darla’s lips parted, her body tensing in anticipation of the next.
Oh, she was in trouble.
And she loved every second of it.
Should I push it further into the dark? More psychological tension? More restraint? Tell me how deep you want to go.
The Leopard’s Lair: Bound by Desire (Part 3)
Darla’s world had shrunk to sensation—silk tightening around her wrists, her breath catching as she felt the strain of her arms being drawn above her head. The blindfold stole her sight, but in its absence, every other sense sharpened. The cool air against her exposed skin. The soft drag of fabric shifting as she moved. The steady, deliberate footsteps circling the bed.
She wasn’t just restrained. She was claimed.
A soft tug at her ankles made her realize something else—he wasn’t done binding her. The slow pull of another length of silk wrapped around her legs, spreading them, anchoring her in place. She let out a breath, half frustration, half excitement, her muscles instinctively testing the limits. No escape.
"Still think you’re in control?" His voice was right at her ear, low and full of something she couldn't quite name—power, amusement, hunger?
Darla swallowed. She wanted to be defiant, wanted to smirk and throw a challenge back at him, but she couldn’t. Not when she was like this. Vulnerable. Held open. At his mercy.
He chuckled, as if reading her mind. "Not so talkative now."
She felt the cool press of leather—soft, but firm—trailing from her collarbone down the valley between her breasts. A riding crop. He tapped it against her inner thigh, light, teasing, but the implication was clear.
Then, suddenly, a crack.
A sharp sting bloomed where the crop met her skin, followed by a slow, delicious warmth. Darla gasped, her body jolting against the restraints, but there was nowhere to go. No way to hide.
"Good girl," he murmured. "I think you’re starting to understand."
Her lips parted, a protest forming, but before she could speak, another strike landed—firmer this time, sending another pulse of heat through her. She whimpered, twisting against the bonds, her body caught between the bite of the leather and the unbearable need building inside her.
"You feel that?" He dragged the crop up her thigh, pressing it against her. "That’s what surrender feels like."
Darla’s breath shuddered. She had always been the one playing games, the one teasing and tempting, but here, now…
She was the game.
And she never wanted it to end.
The Leopard’s Lair: Bound and Taken (Part 4)
Darla’s world was nothing but silk and steel.
Her wrists were no longer just bound—they were drawn taut, stretched above her head and secured to the headboard. The silk that once teased now held her inescapably tight. Every tiny movement sent shivers of sensation across her skin, reminding her that she was utterly, completely trapped.
Her ankles weren’t just spread apart—they were pulled wide, secured to the foot of the bed, exposing her with no way to resist, no way to close herself off. She was open, vulnerable, a plaything in the hands of the one who now owned every breath she took.
A new restraint—thicker, unyielding—wrapped around her throat, snug but not choking. A collar. The slow press of fingers against the leather made her shiver.
"Now," he murmured, "you’re exactly where I want you."
Darla whimpered, testing her bonds, her body instinctively pulling against them. No give. No escape. The realization sent a sharp thrill straight through her, igniting something dark, something dangerous, something she had never dared to acknowledge until now.
She wanted to be taken. Owned.
The bed shifted as he moved beside her, his presence like a shadow looming over her bound body. She heard the whisper of something heavier this time—chains. Cold metal brushed her stomach before being drawn slowly up her body, sending a chill through her overheated skin.
"Still think you can fight?" he taunted. The answer was obvious. She couldn’t.
And that was the most intoxicating part.
The first strike landed harder now—a slap of leather against her inner thigh, a sharp contrast to the soft restraints holding her still. Darla’s body jolted, her moan muffled by the collar tightening just slightly around her throat as she instinctively arched against her binds.
A second strike. Then a third. Her skin tingled, heat blooming wherever the crop kissed her flesh.
His fingers traced the marks he left behind, soothing, then gripping. "You’re learning," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to remind her who was in control. "And you love it."
Darla bit her lip, her breath coming in soft, desperate pants. She had never felt so restrained, so helpless, so utterly claimed.
And yet, she had never felt so free.
Tonight, the jungle belonged to him.
And she would never fight it again.
The Leopard’s Lair: Helpless and Taken (Part 5)
Darla had never been this bound.
Silk had become rope. Rope had become leather. Leather had become steel.
Her wrists weren’t just tied—they were locked. Cold cuffs encircled them, connected by a chain pulled so tight she could barely move an inch. Every little motion sent the links clinking, a constant reminder that she had surrendered everything. Her arms were stretched above her, her fingers curling, grasping at nothing but air.
Her ankles were no better. Thick leather straps secured them to the foot of the bed, but this time, they weren’t just spread—they were drawn apart until she could feel the strain in her thighs. She wasn’t just open. She was exposed, immobilized, displayed.
And still, he wasn’t done.
Another strap wrapped around her waist, pinning her hips down. She couldn’t buck. Couldn’t twist. Couldn’t resist.
Then came the final touch.
The collar around her throat had been a tease before, a symbol of control. Now, it tightened—just enough to steal the tiniest bit of breath when she moved too much. A chain connected it to the headboard, ensuring she couldn’t lift her head, couldn’t turn away. She was held still in every possible way. Tied. Stretched. Bound.
She had never been so helpless.
And she had never been so desperate.
A warm breath ghosted over her cheek, his presence so close but so untouchable. "Try to move," he commanded.
Darla did. She couldn’t.
A chuckle. Dark. Satisfied.
"Now," he murmured, his fingers trailing over her collar, down her chest, over the leather straps that held her hips in place, "let’s see how long you last like this."
A blindfold slid over her eyes.
And the world vanished.
She was nothing but restraint.
Nothing but sensation.
Nothing but his.
(20220626_224301)
Valhalla
Drunk and chilled to the bone, indifferent to all else, I surrendered to the embrace of deep sleep, the kind that carries you beyond the veil of this world, down shadowed roads where the drums of Valhalla echo faintly in the distance, across bridges stretching toward infinity, and through crossroads that test the courage of the boldest souls. I passed through ancient portals and shattered unseen walls, driven by a destiny I could neither see nor resist, until at last, I stood at the end of the road…
by Lis Xia
Photography and file processing; LC Nevermind(Luis Campillo)
Artistic direction, MUAH, props, caption and model; Lis Xia
Gear; Nikon D2h & Voigtlander Color Skopar 20mm F3.5 SLII, 800 ISO
Darla isn’t just walking into the room—she’s owning it. That sultry smile, that knowing glint in her eyes, speaks of a woman who is desired, admired, and utterly in control. Her makeup, bold and seductive, frames a gaze that’s equal parts temptation and challenge. Look too long, and you might just lose yourself.
Draped in plush fur that teases against her bare skin and a gown that clings to every curve, she is a vision of pure seduction. The shimmer of fabric catches the light with every slow, deliberate movement, accentuating the way she commands attention—effortlessly, dangerously, deliciously.
Her eyes—smoky, piercing—whisper secrets only the boldest dare to uncover. They promise indulgence, adventure, and just a touch of wickedness. She knows the effect she has, and oh, does she revel in it.
Darla isn’t just unforgettable—she’s addictive. A fantasy draped in silk and confidence, leaving hearts racing and minds wandering long after she’s gone. She is irresistible. Unstoppable. Unapologetically divine.
20240419_234901
And the rumour is true.
The recently elected Conservative UK government will be introducing a Parliamentary Bill to repeal the hunting ban. Our “progressive” new administration is also considering the re-introduction of hanging… pig-sticking… workhouses… slavery and the burning of witches. Congratulations to all who voted for them.
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This vixen is a familiar face to me. She can be seen on my Photostream in last summer's fox shots.
She has no qualms about coming close and is by far and away the boldest of my foxy evening visitors.