obscure references
View allAll Photos Tagged Conquer
I really miss Florida weather! :)
i'll be visiting today the places where I took my autumn shots. A little bit late for my winter shots :)
Have a Great Weekend!
The full quote from the Roman poet Virgil's Eclogues X, 69 dated to 38 BCE is 'omnia vincit amor et nos cedars amori' or 'love conquers all; let us too, yield to love!' A passionate declaration that speaks to us across the centuries and is sure to inspire the adventurous.
The Dymocks Building. Built in 1928.
The Palazzo architectural style.
428 George Street.
The City of Sydney.
The Dymocks Building, aka 'The Block', was conceived by architect F.H.B. Wilton in the 'Interwar Commercial Palazzo Style'. It was to house the 'less elite' or 'bazaar' style of retailing, with specialty businesses offering a wide range of more unusual goods and services. At street-level it was the home for the bookshop which has developed into the iconic modern Dymocks Bookstore, Sydney's premier bookstore. See:
www.thedymocksbuilding.com.au/about-the-dymocks-building/
Encountered by me today, Monday 5th June, 2023, when I visited Dymocks Bookstore in George Street, Sydney.
My Samsung Galaxy S20+ mobile phone camera.
Processed in Snapseed.
A Legacy 'Food' filter (at 60%) from the Flickr Photo Editor.
“Appearance should never attain reality,
And if nature conquers, then must art retire.”
Friedrich Schiller
DSCN5507-003
The Amberwing insurgents dispatched the Blue Dasher holding the fort in last week's shot (in the comments below)
are you ready to conquer the world with this? :))
Sunday is car free day...
texture by ~Brenda Starr~
Someone once told me always live for the little things in life.
Live for 5 am sunrise and 5 pm sunsets
where you’ll see the colours in the sky
that don’t usually belong.
Live for the road trips and bike rides
with music in your ears and
the wind in your hair.
Live for the day when you’re surrounded
by your favourite people who make you realise
that the world is not a
cold harsh place.
Live for the little things because
they will make you realise that this is what life is about
this is what means to be
alive.
** Sichuan, China. 2016.
Taken from a moving car.
I hope you can see a little silhouette of a man :)
My journey continues...trying to catch up soon!
Thanks for looking! :)
If you wish to support my art, you can do it here :)
milamaiphotography@gmail.com
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Merci beaucoup à tous pour votre gentil commentaire et vos favoris très appréciés - bien cordialement ! au plaisir !
Thank you very much to all for your kind comment and your very appreciated favorites - well cordially - au plaisir -
Herzlichen Dank an alle für Ihren freundlichen Kommentar und Ihre beliebten Favoriten - herzlich! zum Vergnügen !
La Martre à gorge jaune (Martes flavigula) est une espèce de la famille des Mustélidés. C'est un petit mammifère carnivore qui se rencontre en Asie. À la fois terrestre et arboricole, cette grande martre a un pelage caractéristique qui la distingue des autres martres : la tache jaune qui lui donne son nom s’étend sur tout le ventre et sur le dos.
Elle vit et chasse seule ou en groupe de 2 ou 3 des proies variées, de l’insecte au petit cervidé d’une douzaine de kilos. Elle mange également des fruits, contribuant ainsi à la régénération de la forêt en dispersant les graines. A l’époque de la reproduction les mâles s’affrontent pour conquérir une femelle. La longue gestation est due à l’implantation tardive des œufs dans l’utérus, plusieurs mois après l’accouplement.
"Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass."
~ Rupert Brooke [The Hill]
Every time I turn on the news, my heart hardens a little and I feel myself becoming less sure that we will ever have peace. I want to believe that people are good but lately there are so many examples of bad behavior that it is overwhelming me a bit.
For example, one of our local farms that allows visitors had to remind people not to harass the animals. Apparently guests have been chasing the ducks around and someone broke a ducks neck then took a huge rock and dropped it on the clutch of eggs she was protecting. Why would anyone do something so heartless? I cannot understand this cruelty and sit here stunned and heartbroken.
The political news is no better. I feel like I want to withdraw a bit but know without hope and action the bad will win and I cannot let that happen. I am sending more messages of love out into the world, maybe it will catch on and spread.
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/// ABNORMALITY - Trick or Treat Week
October 7th - 21st
➤ GUTS. ::Static:: - Ghostly Candy Gore
➤ SCARS. .Eggu - Scars
➤ EARS & TAIL. [FrettchenHaus] - Grembli Ears and Grembli Tail
───
/// HARVEST OF SOULS
September 23rd - October 31st
➤ HEAD. BeSpoke - Hybrid Arachne
───
/// ENGINE ROOM
September 20th - October20th
➤ TOP. V/. VoluptasVirtualis - Moth
───
/// OTHER CREDITS
♥ Vae Victis Mainstore | Marketplace ♥
➤ CROWN. /Vae Victis\ - "Oberon" - Crown of Throns
♥ .:SYNNERGY.TAVIS:. Mainstore | Marketplace ♥
➤ BACKDROP. SYNNERGY.TAVIS//Shadowed Streets
───
➤ Blog
➤ Primfeed
... likes to sit on the valerian pot
Timmy der Eroberer sitzt gerne auf dem Baldrian-Topf
Happy Caturday 27.2.2021 "Purrsonality"
This week I had to take Timmy to the vet again because he was injured in one ear and smelled bad from this ear. It was one of his regular fight injuries, which had become infected. He got an antibiotic shot and I got a bottle of iodine solution.
Amazingly, he let me rub his ear with an iodine cloth two or three times a day. He probably knows that I am helping him. However, he loves it already longer, if I rub with my nose in his ear :-)))
I also found white fur under his claws - so his fight with Sammy was probably a draw ;-) I hope the two of them will stay out of each other's way for a while.
The two rascals often fight at the border of their territories - the creek. Three times in the distance of about six weeks they both landed in the brook. I then always need 4-5 towels to get him halfway dry. Then he gets grounded until he is completely dry and also to cool down.
Life as a daddy of a conqueror is not boring and not cheep! This time: 111.14€ :-)
Diese Woche musste ich mit Timmy mal wieder zum Tierarzt, weil er an einem Ohr verletzt war und aus diesem Ohr schlecht roch. Es war eine seiner regelmäßigen Kampf-Verletzungen, die sich entzündet hatte. Er bekam eine Antibiotikum-Spritze und ich ein Fläschen Jod-Lösung.
Erstaunlich: er läßt mich sein Ohr mit einem Jod-Läppchen abreiben. Er weiß wohl, dass ich ihm helfe. Allerdings liebt er es ja schon länger, wenn ich mit meiner Nase in seinem Ohr reibe :-)))
Ich fand unter seinen Krallen auch weißes Fell - sein Kampf mit Sammy war also wohl ein Unentschieden ;-) Ich hoffe, die beiden gehen sich jetzt mal eine zeitlang aus dem Weg.
Die beiden Schlawiner kämpfen ja oft an der Grenze - dem Bach. Dreimal im Abstand von etwa sechs Wochen sind sie dabei beide im Bach gelandet. Ich brauche dann immer 4-5 Handtücher um ihn halbwegs trocken zu bekommen. Dann bekommt er Hausarrest, bis er ganz trocken ist und auch um sich abzuregen.
Das Leben als Daddy eines Eroberes ist nicht langweilig und nicht billig! Diesmal waren es 111,14€, allerdings mit einer Wurmkur :-)
Captivating, entertaining, catchy songs brilliantly delivered with Ruarri Joseph’s languid style, superbly backed by Naomi Holmes on bass and Harry Harding on drums.
Performed at Café Thirty8, Marlborough, organised by Sound Knowledge record shop.
A curious Vixen, checking out the top of this dry stone pier.
A lovely surprise encounter.
Sept 2025.
We made it to the top of the seventh tier of waterfalls at Erawan. In truth though the most impressive thing about this tier was the sign!
Gansbaai coast, may 2022. It is interesting to look how some plants in areas with enough floor and no light competition spread in horizontal direction. I could not identify this plant so I would love to know some more if there is someone could give me some light about!
This might be a slightly silly idea, but I had a lot of fun sharing a small glimpse of what was going on in my head while creating and editing this image and this character. Writing it down felt right in the moment.
For me, it’s never just about the looks.
Editing is the part where my brain goes off on its own little adventure and the character starts to take shape beyond pixels and poses.
Please keep in mind that I’m just a roleplayer whose biggest passion is emoting — not a professional storyteller. And yes… this was also translated from my native language into English, so please be gentle with me. 😅
Still, I hope some of you enjoy getting a peek into Arawn’s backstory. And if not — hey, at least I had fun doing it.
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Arawn was born where the water never forgets.
In the drowned groves beneath the world—where roots strangled the light and rivers murmured names no living throat should shape—he learned early that mercy decays faster than bone. The spirits there did not raise him. They claimed him. Fed him lies sweet as honey. Wrapped living vines around his wrists and called it protection.
He was beautiful even then.
That was his first curse.
They crowned him with antlers grown from living wood, not as a blessing but as a tether—proof that he belonged to the wild dark, to a bargain he had never agreed to. Power gathered in him like still water: patient, cold, inevitable. He learned to take what he needed. He learned that love, when offered, always carried a hook.
And in the water’s memory—long before Rowan was born—
their name already waited.
The spirits whispered it not as prophecy, but as warning. A flaw in the pattern. A future threaded into root and river alike that would not bow. Something the forest could not own.
They knew Arawn could be claimed.
He was dangerous, yes—but predictable. He could be bound with antlers. Tethered with ritual. Fed devotion until he mistook it for choice.
Rowan was not.
The spirits felt Rowan first as an absence—a hollow where roots refused to grow straight and rivers forgot which way they were meant to flow. Where futures forked and refused to settle. Rowan was not born of the forest, nor sworn to it.
They were not meant to kneel.
The spirits tried to erase them. Names misplaced. Paths misaligned. Chances quietly drowned before they could surface. But Rowan kept surviving—kept walking forward—kept becoming unavoidable.
By the time the upper world learned Arawn’s name, he was already a villain in their mouths.
The Forest King.
The Whisper in the Mire.
The one who traded salvation for obedience.
He conquered not with armies, but with want. Cities fell because people knelt willingly. He never corrected them.
But sometimes—rarely—Arawn would hear it again.
A name carried on running water. A presence just beyond the treeline. Not a command. Not a prayer.
A pull.
(You can find the rest on my FB Page)