Meditation
View allAll Photos Tagged CONSCIOUS
The picture on the wall is Bogart .. Danbo's Australian friend
www.flickr.com/photos/40262251@N03/
Thanks for all the comments and fave's :-)
" A child within
Has healing ways
It sees me through
My darkest days
I'm gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I'm gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine "
- THE VERVE -
Catching the Butterfly
I was conscious of that moment of stepping into the woods and leaving everything else behind. That one instant when all the sounds of people, of traffic, of doors opening and closing, were suddenly gone, swallowed up by trees and ferns. It was like a curtain falling on a stage, and I waited for that moment every time. My heart opened just a little bit wider.
~ Lynn Thomson
Meet Liam, an alert and aware pilot for Talkeetna Air Taxi in Alaska who flew us on a most memorable aerial tour of Denali National Park. Lucky me, I got to sit in the co-pilot's seat :) Photos to follow!
Nikon D7500, Sigma 18-300, ISO 200, f/10.0, 18mm, 1/320s
"If we were always conscious of the fact that people precious to us are frighteningly mortal, hanging not even by a thread, but by a wisp of gossamer, perhaps we would be kinder to them and more grateful for the love and friendship they give to us." ~ Dean Koontz
"The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises...."
- by Sigmund Freud
*
Christmas is about sharing the light within you ~
consciously create the PEACE in your own hearts, crave for the virtue always... now it is the best time to do that.
Have lots of joy and laughs in company of your beloved ones,
wishing you merry and holy Christmas...
with love and blessings.
Sretan Božić, mnogo blagoslova i Svjetla na Putu !!!
*
"Bridge To The Future - SUBCΘNSƆIΘUS MΛNIFΞSTΛTIΘNS" // "The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun & falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.":
• 4k • ReShade • Custom shaders • My own LUT's [ based upon filmic-tonemapping, Reinhard tonemapping curves ] • Photomode [drone camera mode]
be conscious of yourself as consciousness alone,
watch all the thoughts come and go.
Come to the conclusion, by direct experience,
that you are really consciousness itself,
not its ephemeral contents.
.....
Clouds come and go in the sky,
but the appearance and disappearance or the clouds
doesn't affect the sky.
Your real nature is like the sky, like space.
Just remain like the sky
and let thought clouds come and go.
- Annamalai Swami -
another dedication on my father's day of passing.
He gave me this guitar that you see here in the year 1978.
This is a work by the artist Kader Attia, which he actually named Couscous.
This is also a work by a photographer who thought the work was called something else for the longest time and read Couscous as Conscious.
This is a work by a human who wakes up in the middle of the night, thinking dead people are alive and that she should call them. And that same human can't get back to sleep.
This is a work by a human who suffers, laments, thinks a lot about life and realizes this is what separates the conscious from the unconscious.
This is a work of someone who is interested in all layers of consciousness and wish her subconscious would communicate more with her non subconscious so that she knew how she truly felt about reality before she went to sleep and was unconscious.
This is also the work of someone who feels that to be conscious means one must have a conscience.
This is the work by a human who struggles with the idea that she would ever really be unconscious even if she were in a coma.
This is the work of a human who is wondering if she is actually in a coma and all of this is a very vivid presentation of how her brain is still experiencing life in a separate dimension than what we would always classify.
This is the work of magic desolation, textures, and light. Let's keep thinking about these things and realizing things about ourselves.
This is a reason why humanity might be worth saving after all.
More by Kader Attia: kaderattia.de/works/
**All photos are copyrighted***
conscious of this, and having tradesman-like habits, supplies their demands ;-)
Oscar Wilde
HGGT! HFF! Truth Matters! Lies have consequences!! Resist the Despicable Orange Cockroach Poo Tin Puppet!
narcissus, daffodils, 'Jules Verne', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, raleigh, north carolina
Having a basic understanding of composition would help construct a better organized image :-)
Berenice Abbott
HBW!! Hands Off Our Cities!! Resist the Despicable Authoritarian Orange Cockroach and his Cabinet of Stooges and Buffoons!!
acer, japanese maple, 'Red Select', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, raleigh, north carolina
“The conscious mind may be compared to a fountain playing in the sun and falling back into the great subterranean pool of subconscious from which it rises.”
~ Sigmund Freud
© John Phillips, USA. All rights reserved.
www.fluidr.com/photos/john_phillips
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission!
After noting that the Edinburgh portion of the southbound Caledonian Sleeper departed from Waverley's platform 11 at 11.40pm, I checked out the empty stock movement and saw it was due to arrive from Polmadie CMD at 9.58pm, travelling as 5C11.
So, duly positioned on platform 10 to snap it as it arrived, it turned out the more pleasing shot was this one taken on platform 11 just after the loco had been uncoupled and the driver was carrying the connecting cable in hand - no doubt to save the shunter a lugging job as he moved the engine to the other end of the train ready for departure.
As mentioned the train goes forward as 1C11 at 11.40pm. At Carstairs it will be linked up with the Glasgow portion before heading south through the night with arrival at London Euston scheduled for 7.02am. The timings are relatively comfortable and on this occasion the travellers pulled into Euston 30 minutes ahead of schedule - no doubt the operators were happy seeing as the new sleeper stock was being used, on this occasion without incident, and presumably a few of the passengers were quite happy with the early alarm call too!
10.08pm, 13th June 2019
Flower Earrings Sigma Main Store
Hair Monso
Liner Jack Spoon
Smoke kunst
_____________________
㋛ Happy Monday!!
I have to be conscious, if you like, of the impossibility of photography :-)
Pieter Hugo
HMM! Justice Matters! No one is above the law!
prunus mume, weeping japanese flowering apricot, 'Bridal Veil', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, raleigh, north carolina
ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴡɪᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ sʜᴀʀᴋs? ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ.
She leans against the side of an old, abandoned wooden boat pulled up on the pebbled shore. A cigarette dangles between her fingers, its thin smoke curling into the salt-tinged air. Her gaze is distant, fixed somewhere between the horizon and the curling waves. The air smells of salt and seaweed, and the rising sun casts a pale gold light across the water.
For weeks now, she’s sought solace in this secluded spot by the sea. The boat, half-buried in sand, has become a familiar companion - a quiet witness to her contemplations.
This morning, however, the peace she’s grown accustomed to is disrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching over the pebbles. A man appears, carrying a small toolbox, his silhouette hazy in the sea mist. His beard is thick and neatly kept, framing his face with a rugged charm. His man-bun, tied high, gleams in the soft morning light, and his light brown eyes seem to hold the glow of the rising sun, warm and searching, like they’ve seen the world and found poetry in its chaos.
He pauses when he sees her, tilting his head in mild surprise.
“You’re sitting on my project,” he says, his tone light but teasing.
She raises an eyebrow, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. “Your project? Looks more like a relic.”
He grins, the movement softening the edges of his face. “It’s both. Been fixing it up for weeks now.” He sets his toolbox down and gestures toward the boat. “Mind if I get to work?”
She hesitates but shifts to the side, still leaning against the boat. “Didn’t think anyone cared about this thing anymore.”
He shrugs as he kneels by the hull, pulling out sandpaper and tools. “Most people don’t. But I’ve got a soft spot for things that seem... forgotten.”
Their conversation is sparse at first, carried by the rhythm of the waves and the occasional scrape of his tools against the wood. She watches him work, intrigued by his quiet focus. Eventually, she flicks her cigarette into the sand and says, “Why bother? Boats like this don’t belong on the water anymore.”
He looks up, his hands pausing. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s about giving something a second chance, even if it’s just for show.”
His words linger in the air between them, carrying more weight than either of them intended. She deflects with a smirk, suddenly self-conscious. “So, you’re a poet and a carpenter?”
He laughs softly, the sound deep and unhurried. “Just a guy who likes the sea. And maybe fixing things.”
As the tide creeps closer, they keep talking. He shares stories of his childhood by the coast, of how he’s always been drawn to the water and the stories it seems to whisper. She, against her usual instincts, finds herself admitting things she rarely says aloud - about her wandering life, her habit of leaving places before they can leave her.
When he invites her to help with the boat - just to hold a plank in place or test the balance - she surprises herself by saying yes. For the first time in a long while, she feels grounded, her restless energy softened by the steady rhythm of his work and the murmuring sea.
As the morning fades into the afternoon, the boat begins to look less like a relic and more like something alive again. And as they sit together on its edge, their hands smudged with sawdust and salt, she realizes that sometimes, it’s not the destination or the grand gestures that matter - it’s the fleeting, unexpected moments where strangers meet and something intangible shifts, like the tide.
“I am more consciously and peacefully united with God’s will. I am more completely determined to abandon all care for my own interests into God’s hands through our Lady, even and especially my highest spiritual interests. I am no longer taking care of my own progress and my own sanctity because it is hopeless. I leave it to Mary’s direction, to the Living Christ within me, acting in me, controlling all that I do for His love. It is true, for the moment at least, He seems to have a much fuller control.
“All that matters is to give everything, and the quicker, the better. Fighting, struggling, rebelling, delaying make it harder, but not more meritorious. On the contrary, less. So it is fruitless to multiply difficulties and delays. Give everything and give it in the quickest possible way. All that matters is the gift. That is what pleases God, atones for sin, converts the world, and leads us into the joys of heaven even here on earth.”
- Thomas Merton (July 20, 1947) from A Year with Thomas Merton
I have a few things to show you today from a few of my favourite second life designers.
Earrings
iNeed Inspire earrings are fitted for LelEvoX Female heads, they come with a HUD to change the metal and pearls, (black, white/silver and gold)
iNeed Mainstore LM maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Shocking%20Blue/53/233/22
Nails
BodyArts - Natural Stilleto Nails. They are fitted for Belleza GenX, Legacy, Reborn and Lara/LaraX
A colour changing HUD so you can pick a natural colour for your nails.
BodyArts Mainstore LM maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Courtesy/183/245/30
BodyArts MP marketplace.secondlife.com/de-DE/stores/193422
Nose Piercing
[VIPERA] Vibora Piercings Available at Main store and MP Unrigged mesh piercings with HUD for colour changing: → Metals: 6 colours → Gems: 9 colours → Hide/Show each piercing
Vipera Mainstore LM maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Utopia%20Isles/143/161/4004
Vipera MP marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/24996
Necessity is blind until it becomes conscious. Freedom is the consciousness of necessity.
Karl Marx
The desire of gold is not for gold. It is for the means of freedom and benefit.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
May we think of freedom, not as the right to do as we please but as the opportunity to do what is right.
Peter Marshall
Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth.
John F. Kennedy
No one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone. That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it.
Paulo Coelho, “Eleven Minutes”
Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
Martin Luther King Jr.
People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.
Søren Kierkegaard
The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
Albert Camus
With heartfelt and genuine thanks for your kind visit. Have a beautiful day, be well, keep your eyes open, appreciate the beauty surrounding you, enjoy creating, and stay safe! ❤️❤️❤️
Each of us is in a different world, in our conscious minds, and we have to have respect for each other's world.
Adrienne was conscious, but the world moved in slow motion—distorted, dreamlike. Her skull throbbed. Silence pressed against her ears. She blinked. Tried to rise. Failed. Where was she?
Reality slowly came into focus. Think! She scanned the chaos around her—twisted metal, scorched walls, debris. To her left… Kayla. Laying still. Breathing. She was bleeding. Relief surged, then vanished. Adrienne forced herself upright, staggering, dazed.
Then she saw him—Edlon. One of the Arcturians. Memory flickered: she and Kayla had been preparing to leave. Then the explosion.
She crawled to Kayla. Unmoving, but a pulse. “Kayla,” she whispered, then louder. No response. She patted her cheek. “Wake up.”
Adrienne reached for Edlon’s wrist. No pulse. But did Arcturians even have one there? She didn’t know. His skin was paler than usual—eerily so.
She cradled Kayla’s head. A gash. Panic clawed at her throat. She had to stop the bleeding. She tore a strip of cloth and wrapped it around Kayla’s head. Too loose. Not enough.
A crewman burst through the passage, skidded to a halt. His eyes widened. “Get to an escape pod! The ship is entering Earth’s atmosphere. It will burn up. No time!” He vanished down the corridor.
Adrienne’s heart pounded. She had to jump. Had to take Kayla.
Then—she remembered. The data slate. Coordinates to the reptilian sites. Edlon had given it to her. Where—? She scanned the wreckage, spotted it, snatched it up.
She turned back to Kayla—and froze.
Kayla was fading. Her outline shimmered, dissolving.
“NO!” Adrienne screamed.
In seconds, Kayla was gone.
Adrienne collapsed to her knees, staring at the empty space. Disbelief. Horror.
The ship groaned around her. Metal shrieked. Smoke thickened, choking. The floor trembled. A deafening crash as a bulkhead collapsed. Intense heat.
This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real!
She scrambled through the wreckage, calling Kayla’s name. Searching. Hoping.
But Kayla was nowhere. Just… gone.
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You can view Quantum Fold episodes in order from the beginning in her album titled, Quantum Fold:
www.flickr.com/photos/199076397@N02/albums/72177720326169...
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This is an A.I. image generated using my SL avi.
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MediaCity, Salford Quays
Just on the way back to the car park, another spot by Mrs R. The office block on the corner opposite the Lowry Theatre. Many offices left with the lights on showing the interiors... clearly the media world isn't energy conscious!
Apologies in advance to Kevin Walker for pinching one of his recent titles but it was too good not to use!