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Direction | Limassol, Cyprus
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f/8 | 25 sec | ISO 400 | 17 mm
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Theme : Landscape Photography
Series : Dreamscape Madness
Location: Limassol, Cyprus
Instagram : @estjustphoto
Flick | 500px | YouPic : etsjustphoto
Commentary.
This Benedictine Monastery and Abbey Church,
founded as early as 1018, reputedly by King Cnut,
served under Savignac and later Cistercian rule in medieval times.
It suffered the consequences of religious persecution in the 16th. Century, when the Dissolution of the Monasteries, by direction of King Henry VIII, saw it ransacked and ultimately demolished.
The site was bought by French Benedictine monks in the nineteenth century and dedicated to St. Mary. Not until 1907 did a re-build commence followed by consecration in 1932 and completion in 1938.
Prayer and worship is only one part of a monk’s daily life.
What always strikes me is how active they are in supporting their community and earning their keep.
Vegetables, honey, beeswax, pigs, cattle, wine, fudge, publications and many other products are sold near and far.
Monks built the building, help to maintain it,
designed stained-glass windows for new chapels,
farm the land, tend the gardens and benefit from the thousands of paying visitors that come to enjoy, this thriving, yet spiritually uplifting and inspirational place.
Indeed, healthy income enables continuous development.
For example a magnificent new pipe-organ, sourced from Italy, was successfully installed in 2017.
The vibrant, ongoing work of this highly committed
and faithful community is complemented by the incredible beauty of its setting.
Nestling as it does on the edge of Dartmoor,
in the exquisite Dart Valley, where it is, and what it does, evokes the peace, solace, tranquillity of the spirit of God, to his honour and glory.
A thousand years, 1018-2018 is only the beginning!
The mad Hatter had a huge big head.
She made all her hats in her own size.
She even designed a merrygoround on her head.
Unfortunately,
She never sold any one of them,
because her size fitted no body else.
The Hatter had a pet called ‘Watch’.
Watch was a mysterious, weird creature in the Underland.
Just ask it ‘what day is today?’,
it would show you by looking at the right direction.
The watch never spoke, because it didn’t have a mouth.
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Alice in Underland, Chapter 4, A Mad Tea Party, created by DD-Anne.
more informations will be updated on my website. www.dd-anne.com
[...] The direction in which education starts a man will determine his future life [...]
-- Quote by Plato (427 BC - 347 BC), The Republic
Nikon D70, Tokina 12-24 f/4, 13mm - f/22 - 3s - hdr 3xp +2,-2EV
Fiumicino, Italy (August, 2008)
I needed to provide a little direction on this shot. Her friend had tennis shoes that really distracted from the shot, so I asked that he move away and she move toward the curb! They were great about the request!
A rollerblader with some awesome dance moves performing to any group of beachgoers that will look in his direction.
“You need a flange sprocket for that one.” A conspiratorial look in my direction. A steely nod in return that almost certainly failed to mask the bewilderment. “Then you’ll want an electric socket hammer to push the shankhead nails through. Then lay the new sheets, starting at the bottom and working up. Thirty centimetre overlaps between every panel. The galvanised rubber bungs will keep the rain out for years. Bish bosh, easy job. You could do the lot in three days.”
Ali was grinning at me, knowing that I had not the faintest clue what was being said. Our visiting expert might as well have been speaking in Serbo Croat for all I understood. She wanted to tell him to look at my soft pasty hands, hewn from a lifetime of wearing white shirts at the office, while before us stood a benevolent bearded gorilla of a man, a mixture of dried paint and wood stain all over his jeans and jumper, the result of doing a proper day’s work for a living. We were standing in our leaky garage, inspecting the roof and discussing the best way to keep it watertight this winter. Did we need a new roof, or could we repair this one? All of this was so far removed from anything familiar. What workplace skills I had were entirely limited to counting things and presenting the results to people further up the food chain than me. Whenever the urge seizes me to try a bit of DIY, I lie down in a darkened room and wait for the feeling to pass over. I call it DIwon’t.
We’ve had a sudden run of visitors to the house this summer. All male, all offering their considered wisdom on things that are falling down or need replacing, and all of them speaking in languages that I really don’t understand. The only thing these soft office boy ears hear is white noise when anyone starts talking about sprockets and sockets. There’s the old wooden windows, the collapsing rear porch, the rusting ride on mower with the gammy drive belt, the sycamores that need removing without falling onto the neighbours beehives, the bulging septic tank and the unending saga of the garage roof with the inbuilt shower. Only our plumber is female - and she did such a good job last time that we don’t need her services at the moment. I did fix a leaky tap in the bathroom last year - in fact I did a lap of honour around the garden when it no longer dripped at the fourth attempt to solve the problem. But mostly, I’m worse than useless. The sad and uncomfortable truth is that I need men in overalls to make my life function at moments like these, and I know that sounds wrong on just about every level.
Even a relatively simple task can lead me into a world of pain. Recently, one of our five a side football circle announced he was opening a new coffee stop opposite Redruth railway station, and had invited local artists to bring in their masterpieces. He’d put them on the wall to brighten the place up and sell them on the creative’s behalf. Stupidly, I told him that I do a bit of landscape photography around Cornwall and shared my Instagram feed, and before I knew it I’d agreed to bring some framed prints in. I rapidly chose four local scenes and had them printed, and then I ordered some white frames. Nice looking frames, hopefully robust enough and not very expensive. If I’m going to get a couple of quid out of this I need to remember this is Redruth and not trendy St Ives or Padstein. The people around here don’t take their baths in foaming gallons of champagne, you know. Some of them can barely afford water.
That left the business of assembling my purchases, and now my incomparable incompetence at all matters practical came to the fore. A can of mounting spray arrived from Mr Bezos, who it turned out owed me a tenner because one of the frames had a tiny mark on it. Ali and I watched some YouTube videos and were left bewildered by the multitude of different approaches. How could something that looked so simple be so complicated? In the end we came up with our own method - one which you definitely won’t ever see in the textbook. The mounting spray is supposed to stay “tacky” for five minutes, but it really doesn’t waste any time bonding two surfaces together. The moment we attempted to stick the printed photo to the backing paper along the carefully scored lines that had been made in advance, it broke loose and landed at a far more avant-garde angle, refusing to budge any further. Then there’s the business of trying to keep the inside free of dust, stray moulting hairs and goodness knows whatever else. With a shameful hidden mass of clipped edges hiding beneath the mount, the finished result does at least look like it’s supposed to. I wonder if we’ll have learned anything by the time we’ve completed the first batch. Maybe we need a flange sprocket, whatever that is.
I’m far more comfortable at the scenes of those images. Here’s one from that prototype selection - the only one that wasn’t already on Flickr. No sprockets or sockets required around here. Just a soft handed office boy with a camera and a flask of tea.
Berlin, 1.2021
"Après avoir passé le Checkpoint Charlie berlinois avec force chicaneries – nous avions provoqué le Vopo en mettant l’autoradio à plein volume, Bowie : « We are the goon squad and we’re coming to town, beep, beep » – nous nous promenons vers cinq heures de l’après-midi en direction de l’Alexanderplatz, encore gonflés à bloc par nos journées passées côté Ouest, et nous voyons des lapins jouer dans l’herbe, au milieu de la ville, pendant que de l’autre côté du mur, les gaz d’échappement s’amoncellent et que les rangées interminables d’autos scintillent dans la lumière – on pouvait le voir de la haute tour de l’Est."
>>> Stefan Hertmans.......in: Entre villes (1998)
"After passing Berlin's Checkpoint Charlie with much quibbling – we had provoked the Vopo by turning up the car radio, Bowie : "We are the goon squad and we're coming to town, beep, beep" – we stroll towards Alexanderplatz around five in the afternoon, still pumped up from our days on the West side, and see rabbits playing in the grass in the middle of the city, while on the other side of the wall the exhaust fumes are piling up and the endless rows of cars glitter in the light – you could see it from the high tower on the East."
"Nachdem wir den Berliner Checkpoint Charlie mit viel Gezeter passiert hatten – wir hatten den Vopo provoziert, indem wir das Autoradio auf volle Lautstärke aufdrehten, Bowie : "We are the goon squad and we're coming to town, beep, beep" – wir schlendern gegen fünf Uhr nachmittags in Richtung Alexanderplatz, noch aufgepumpt von den Tagen auf der Westseite, und sehen Kaninchen im Gras spielen, mitten in der Stadt, während sich auf der anderen Seite der Mauer die Abgase stapeln und endlose Reihen von Autos im Licht glitzern – man konnte es vom hohen Turm im Osten sehen."
Saw these 2 great urban young people on a walk 'n shoot with my buddy John. They were kissing in an alcove on downtown street. When Shyanne saw me, she pushed away from Kyree. John and I introduced ourselves, and I said, "You are a great looking couple, can we take your photos?" And without direction we got a nice set that I edited an sent to them. They were so typical of urban young people "in love" for the past 19 months. And just super kids that uplifts one's spirits and hope for the future. A gust of wind blew Shyanne's hair up and I took the shot.
January 14, 2017
Steele Hill
Sanbornton, New Hampshire - USA
Photo by brucetopher
© Bruce Christopher 2017
All Rights Reserved
Shot with a Canon 7D.
...always learning - critiques welcome.
No use without permission.
Please email for usage info.
thanks for looking....better bigger........Happy Christmas & New Year.....hope you have a great weekend
The Sydney Conservatorium of Music started out life as a castellated horse stable. It then held 30 horses plus the stallions in the octagonal Towers ... the stables were complete in February 1821 ... English Architect Francis Greenway was the designer, who worked under the direction of Governor Macquarie.
Located adjacent to the Royal Botanic Gardens on the eastern fringe of the Sydney central business district, the Conservatorium is a faculty of the University of Sydney.
Learn more: Wikipedia - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sydney_Conservatorium_of_Music