View allAll Photos Tagged Dissolves
My love is in league with the freeway
Its passion will ride, as the cities fly by
And the tail-lights dissolve, in the coming of night
And the questions in thousands take flight
My love is the miles and the waiting
The eyes that just stare, and the glance at the clock
And the secret that burns, and the pain that won't stop
And its fuel is the years
Leading me on - leading me down the road
Driving beyond
Driving me down the road.
all i need
a hug, you leaning
into me and loving
the time.
this is all
a beautiful sign
like angels ushering
the triumphal entry
of god dying for us
or of butterflies
entering the banquet hall
of anther and filament
announcing feasts
of regeneration.
Or,
of, literally,
wrapping arms around
a dog on a cool
fall evening.
something insidious
and bitter is
stripped away
in this moment
in this embrace.
Keeping to a theme of distorted or dissolving architectures that provide a metaphor for the dissolution of rational constructs that no longer serve. My previous image cited the Major Arcana Tarot Card, The Tower, as a psychological metaphor for the coming down of a mental or psychic construct that is deemed as nothing but a hindrance in current circumstances. Here I reference that again but add to that the growing critique of the notion of modern, capitalist, exploitative progress at the expense of all else. The notion of limitless growth and limitless profit is patently ridiculous. Such growth, as I think we'll see in our lifetimes, will simply have to stop. It cannot be sustained. And again, this is not so much about radical changes to the outward world we know, but a radicalization of the thinking that creates it.
Collection of Gary Taylor, Toronto.
Part of the "Hypothetical Awards" Group's "Annual Urban Art" Challenge, HUGE thanks to Mel Cabeen for the invitation to it.
View Large on Black.
Nobody is able to feel the mist when he lives in it,but the mist is always able to feel his fears and to use them against him.
Your presence lifted me up and dissolved every mist. Mistery and mist never shared common roots...ILDSS
Europe, The Netherlands, Zuid Holland, Rotterdam, Kop van Zuid, Rijnhaven, Mist, Wilhelminapier, High-rises (slightly cut)
The Rijnhaven metro station made for an excellent vantage point, with the former Rijnhaven turning into a park and the high rises of the Wilhelminepier partly dissolving in the mist.
This is number 378 of Rotterdam harbour & Industry and 26 of Rijnhaven redevelopment
Says the wise, great grey owl. I saw this owl on the post coming back from picking up medicine at my vet's house last night and normally I won't even lift my Canon in low light conditions, the sun was already down but glad I went home to get the camera because as soon as I drove back 2 miles down the road, no sooner than I stopped my truck and got out he snatched up a mouse and landed on this post, never even had time to set up. Not sure why he has the second eye-lid thing going on, it was in all 6 images, it took seconds for him to gobble down the mouse and fly away.
Here's a fun fact :
In darkness, or when prey is hidden by snow or tall weeds, owls need to pinpoint both the direction of and the exact distance from their prey. (In total darkness, if they grab too short, they'll miss and could crash on the ground.) Owl ears are crooked-one is further forward and one higher than the other. When an owl hears the sound of a mouse as loud as possible in both ears, it has the direction. And because the ears are crooked, the sound of the mouse reaches one ear a split second before it reaches the other. That difference allows the owl's brain to calculate the exact distance from the mouse
Owl stomach juices can't dissolve bones, fur, feathers, or teeth. If these parts got into the intestines and splintered, the owl could die. So all these parts get stuck in a chamber of the owl's stomach called the gizzard. About once a day the owl's stomach contracts, squeezing all the liquid, soupy food into the intestines, and then the owl spits up the left over fur, bones, feathers, and teeth in a clean rounded chunk called a pellet. How's that for making soup? ;-)
Taken with Canon 40D
Head: LeLutka - Aida
Skin: Glam Affair - Aida
Hair: tram H0906 hair
Lights: FAKEICON / csillag led lights
Eyeshadow: Izzie's - VIP Group Gift December 2018 (Winter Glam Eyeshadow)
Tune: Dissolved Girl - Massive Attack
going back to the beginning of time, dissolving into the nothingness and returning to my true nature...
This was a macro of coffee granules dissolving in stirred boiling water. When I was processing it I thought that it looked like a Norwegian Nisse, hence the title.
Balg, 20s, 1/640s, Mitutoyo 10x, 5um, Dissolved in Water/Vodka solution,then slide gently heated.
Thanks for your comments and faves, they are truly appreciated.
. . . When I first saw this pattern in the hot pool runoff water that is what I first thought of. This is one of the pools at Norris Geyser Basin, and if you just look at the bottom part of the picture under the tree, you might think the same.
The hot water from the pool contains dissolved minerals and since algae grow at different temperatures as the water cools, the colors and patterns are infinite!
Have a great week Facebook, Flickr, and 500px friends!
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sawley,_Lancashire
Sawley is a village and civil parish in the Borough of Ribble Valley in Lancashire, England. It is situated north-east of Clitheroe, on the River Ribble. It is historically part of the West Riding of Yorkshire.
Sawley shares a parish council with two other parishes, Bolton-by-Bowland and Gisburn Forest.[2]
Sawley Abbey, a ruined abbey of Cistercian monks, is in the village. The abbey was founded in 1147 and dissolved in 1536.[3] Historically, Sawley fell under the Earl of Northumberland's Percy fee rather than being part of the powerful neighbouring Lordship of Bowland.
Centred on the artist as avatar, she builds, breaks down, gestures, cries, dissolves. Colour passes over her monochromatic existence. At all times somebody and nobody. An exercise in the minimal.
A still from a video filmed at a performance by SaveMe Oh in Second Life, 7 January 2022.
Sea foam is created by the agitation of sea water and in particular when it contains higher concentrations of organic matter that has been dissolved, such as proteins, lipids and offshore breakdown of algal blooms. These substances can act like foaming agents and when the sea is churned up and breaks on the shore line trapping in air and producing the bubbles. The colour of the sea foam will depend on what properties are in the foam at that time. Due to the sea foams low density the foam can be blown by strong on shore winds from the beach into the land.
This one cut right to the root of what i love about painting...
Exploring untouched walls, having no set plan, and being resourceful by making the most out of the minimal materials and time available.
1 quart of rolling paint
4 scrap cans
> 1 hour
Ice cold water
Life seems to sometimes take me for a ride and really the best I can do is try not to panic, remember that the answer is 42, and hold on while powers greater than myself dictate the future. I can't imagine that this place was planned, but to me this place became a work of art through thousands of years of monsoons, rain & wind storms. It's a barren an inhospitable place that becomes impassible when wet. On this trip I gained a new found respect for the mud in the southwest. In fact, an understanding, because the night before is when I got my jeep stuck in the mud 11 miles from the freeway as a thunder & lightning storm was rolling around on the horizon.
It was one of those moments where you're driving along on the dirt road and you see some mud and you think, oh there's a little water, but it should be fine. Well, in most cases, yes. In this particular place in the Southwest, you're going to get stuck.
I watched the sunset burn while I tried to frantically dig out praying that the looming thunderclouds didn't come my direction. As I night hiked out the lightning started illuminating the sky with bright flashes. If you've ever been out hiking alone in the dessert with lightning you fell like it's on top of you no matter how far away it is. The primal fear eventually subsided, and acceptance set in. I decided to sleep a few hours on this spot to capture this astronomical twilight scene. Alex Noriega was an inspiration here and deserves acknowledgement.
The beautiful Church of St Mary and All Saints at Fotheringhay in Northamptonshire is noted for containing a mausoleum to leading members of the Yorkist dynasty of the Wars of the Roses.
The work on the present church, which sits on a slight hill overlooking the River Nene, was begun by Edward III who also built a college as a cloister on the church's southern side. After completion in around 1430, a parish church of similar style was added to the western end of the collegiate church with work beginning in 1434. It is the parish church which still remains.
The present Grade I-listed church is named in honour of St Mary and All Saints, and has a distinctive tall tower dominating the local skyline. The church is Perpendicular in style and although only the nave, aisles and octagonal tower remain of the original building it is still in the best style of its period. I particularly like the delicate flying buttresses. The church is regarded by Simon Jenkins as one of England's Thousand Best Churches.
The chancel was pulled down after the college was dissolved in 1553 following the Dissolution of the Monasteries. A grammar school was founded in its place which lasted until 1859.
The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing.
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.
Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history.
Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietas?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.
Sylvia Plath - Winter Trees
This denim dissolves in rain.
I really can’t get my head around why people buy jeans that are full of holes; I know they are fashionable but to pay for holes, come on! It’s like buying a packet of Polo mints, you pay for a hole and you get a bit of a minty sweet around it; beats me. I wonder what happens to all the middle bits.
Seen on Market Street, Manchester, UK.