View allAll Photos Tagged Earplugs
Protect your hearing! I didn't when I was young. Hearing aides now. Totally self inflicted.
Macro Mondays safety theme 2021
♡BLOG POST♡
♡KONVO
Meiko Set (Megapack)(Rigged for GenX Curvy, Impressions, Kupra, Lara, Legacy, Peach, Reborn, Reborn Mounds)
::: Available on Marketplace :::
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Head－Lelutka Siwa 3.1
Body－Ebody Reborn
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Earrings-
OATMILK // Celeste Gauges FATPACK
TABOU- Animated Earplug F- Pack2
Rings-
[Z O O M] Mini Wire Rings(accessory rings).
Nails- (Belamour) I'm Batman Nails
Hair-
Sante - 'Swan' (Hair)
What en experience to hear these beauties. Earplugs saved the day. Oregon Coast Range in the distance.
Man, it was nasty out this morning. The heat index at 06:15 before the sun rose was already 90F! Once the sun did rise up, it was red in the sky for over an hour. Just too many brush fires going on in Florida right now...
For the 365 Days Project.
Taken and sent from my iPhone.
Ok, I'll hold my hand up and say this is probably so overcooked that it's sticking to the pan and the kitchen is full of smoke. But I'm a sucker for a bit of HDR sun flare and the rows of wheat were just egging me on. You wouldn't believe the persuasive power of wheat, it's the siren of the cereal world. Next time I'll wear earplugs.
Double bonus of things in a row here, arches of the viaduct or the rows of wheat.
Brayden and Sugarmop/Ginette's little Cameron!
We had a fun time with Cecillia and Ginette and kids today! We went to Joanne's where our kiddos may have made the employees wish they had earplugs and then we went to Lake Poway to feed the ducks. I got some CUTE pics and will have to post more later unfortunately! I have a b'day party to go too
Our small Christmas tree has arrived and Linus thinks this event calls for a Christmas carol. Be grateful that you can't hear him, he is a terrible singer with a preference for the high notes and he knows no mercy. I wonder if they sell earplugs in jumbo packs .....
The antidote to noisy next-door neighbors and their loud stereos.
This week's Macro Mondays theme: pair
Taken with an Olympus E-PL9 with m.Zuiko 12-50mm f/3.5-6.3 lens with the lens barrel pushed into macro mode. Natural daylight as light source.
NYIP assignment UNIT 1, choose a subject in motion to covey a sense of speed.
Choose from:
* camera on tripod, slow shutter speed
* camera on tripod, fast shutter speed
* camera on tripod, panning
Nikon D200, 1/4s at f/4.5. 18-200mm-3.5-5.6 lens. Tripod with dual axis spirit level, triggered using cable release.
Shot Outdoors at Carrousel in Golden Gate Park
using natural light.
Lessons taken away: Panning is HARD! But, I really like these shots... they convey speed to me!
This experience was mixed, while I love carrousel's in general... they are always covered with squeeling kids.
Oh, well... earplugs!
Lokal people are well prepared when they come to town to watch the exploding chains of firecrackers , endlessly hung up in all streets to chase away the ghosts and bring good business in the New Year : they have earplugs and hankies or small towels to breathe through, very clever, because smoke and noise can reach high levels ;)
Me "I know right, thats ALOT of Fireworks"
Last night Fireworks in our Neighborhood started around 9:30 pm they did not end til well after Midnight, It was A LOT of Popping and banging and I was glad when it ended lol
Fireworks make me jumpy, so do balloons being popped or any other sudden noises so Im not a big fan, I do love how pretty they are but think next year Ill invest in some earplugs!
For the photo technique challenge 'Music'
Credit to Petra for the artwork, shes the brains - I just take photos...
For Macro Mondays weekly theme "still-life -- a small grouping."
This was one of those fun challenges.
Thanks for viewing and commenting. HMM
After mulling around all week, wondering how he was going to fix his problem, Stormtrooper Bruce finally came up with an answer. Now all STB has to do is convince his 'secret weapon' to help him out.
Fett: Whoa! That was probably the worst thing I’ve ever heard! And I don’t mean that as a compliment. I’ve been to a lot of planets and heard a lot of horrible things, and this song you’ve been practicing is one of the worst out there!
STB: You see? That’s why we need your help! We’ve been practicing all week, and we haven’t made much progress.
TK-1110: Dude here actually thinks we can get good enough to play that song. Almost like a backhanded insult, “Oh here, let’s learn this terrible song, but you have to be good to be bad.”
TK-432: I still don’t get it. Why learn this monstrosity just so we can play a prank on Nubie?
Fett: He’s got a point. Why not come up with something easy to do? What do you need me for? Next to me, you’re the best prankster in the galaxy!
Chewie: Pftgoierj gfoierjew fpoie rfpe! Gep-oe d0(ew0)?
STB: Yes, Chewie, the pizza will be arriving shortly, and we’ll restart the movie. Now, back to what we were talking about. Fett, that’s just it. You’re the best! I was hoping you could rig these instruments to play that song while we’re pretending to play them?
Fett: Rig these instruments? That’s genius! Of course I can, but it’ll take a week or so. And it’ll cost you.
TK-1110: Big surprise.
STB: Go on.
Fett: I get to borrow these instruments afterward. I know a cantina that holds weekly contests, and the winner gets free drinks for a week. With these instruments Chewie and I can score big! For some reason all the aliens out there love this song, but it makes my ears bleed! So, if you can throw in some earplugs, that’d be sweet!
TK-1110: No way! I bet he’s talking about that cantina on that planet where Newbie learned to dance! It’s a small universe!
Fett: One last thing. What if your prank backfires? What if Newbie wants to dance so badly that he’ll agree to enter Palpatine’s Talent Show with you as his background musicians?
TK-432: No way! That’s the same thing I asked Dude here! What if? It’s a small universe after all!
STB:
_________________________________________
Viewing Large is always fun. Just click on the image!
The other area where we are recording sounds is Sanaullah Compound, closer to Mahim railway station, where many kinds of recycling units are stacked against each other. Here, the shredding of plastic, the burning of aluminium furnaces and the sacks of scrap being thrown down from trucks are frequently heard. The screeching sounds from rusty shredding machines make one wonder how the labourers can work without the use of earplugs. For these labourers, most of whom are migrants, Sanaullah is work and home. A little shack of a restaurant, paan kiosks, barbers, an ironing man, chai stalls and various other essentials of daily living function side by side. Against this background, the aural predominance is of men talking business (or gossiping) over phones or with each other. Understandably, they don’t want their conversations recorded.
Walking around trying to be inconspicuous with a recorder in our hands, we realised that some sounds are bound to perish with time and modern lifestyles, such as the sounds of game machines in a very 90s video parlour or the bell of a kulfi seller. Collecting these sounds could be a way of creating an aural museum and complementing visual archives of Dharavi.
XX - Spike'd corset (legacy female, legacy male, Maitreya, Reborn) @ Abstrakt
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Calimaia/164/126/1912
XX - Acid Puke Plugs / Female (For ^^Swallow^^ Gauged S Ears) @ Mainstore
XX / XO Main store location : maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Resembool/43/159/2539
One of the things I missed most during the exile from my hometown was living next to a forrest.
Late Sunday afternoon I for the first time since moving back took a long walk and visited some of the favorite places....
PS
I usually listen to music in my earplugs to create a certain mood in my head when photographing and I was listening to this, when I took the photo (one of my alltime favorite songs)
(Continues....)
Air Power Demo
This airfield is Hostile and contains a high value target.
F16's attack the airbase
I'm sooo happy with my earplugs right now.
Canon 40D with 100-400mm L IS USM
Shot at the Farne Islands , this is just one of the islands that is chock a block with nesting birds. From Gulls to puffins . As you can see , the turret is surrounded by them ! This is inhabited by 4 very hardy National Trust workers ...they must have earplugs ! It was very noisy indeed !
29th June 2021 :
Something pink.
One pink earplug on a pink towel. This wasn't going to be my photo for today, but the one I had taken didn't come out.
Am going offline to watch TV, will catch you tomorrow.
Today is : International Day of the Tropics - nationaldaycalendar.com/international-day-of-the-tropics-...
And as for some Silly News it's : National Camera Day - nationaldaycalendar.com/days-2/national-camera-day-june-29/
Which isn't at all silly. 😂
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites.
the real apple ipod ever....
Please do not sale, use or modify my works without my written permission.
Cap: C H E E R N O SMR22 cavecap @ Alpha Event
Ears: ^^Swallow^^ Gauged S for lel Evo X Ears (m)
Earplug: C H E E R N O S22 plug cave @ Man Cave
Singlet : C H E E R N O SMR22 cavegarment @ Man Cave
Bodyhair: N E X U S bodyhair [ A09 ] [ A10 ] [ A11 ] @ mainstore
Armhair: N E X U S armhair [ H03 ] - applied twice. @ mainstore
Leghair: N E X U S leghair [ L01 ] - applied twice @ mainstore
Nails: N E X U S nailstyle [ DIRTY ] @ mainstore
Pose: ~X.T.C~ Patience - 2 @ mainstore
______________________
Sponsors and LMs
(149/365) Fulfilling a bucket list thing and taking a trip on a sleeper train. It was a good night, but found that I needed my earplugs as I was in the carriage right behind 57305. An excellent journey. - 11th June 2025
Orange earplugs in little box, to protect ears from excessive noise :)
Macro Mondays - theme: "Hazard"
Chasing through Tamaqua (and South Tamaqua) was something was was guaranteed to get us well stuck behind chaser traffic and the train, so our next option? Barnesville, where a fairly steep grade and a tree tunnel gave us a chance to really experience this massive 4-8-4 working hard - and when it works hard, it gets real loud.
Somehow, though, this was not the loudest this train got throughout the day. I was regretting not bringing earplugs, but I wasn't ready for a later spot... either way, sound was a big one on this excursion. And our next spot was one that was going to be perfect for that - and a hell of a view. So once the 2102 had passed us by here, we sprinted back to the car and attempted to beat the pack to where we needed to be.
Can you hear my big airplane enige? Pratatatatat... no? Ahm, put your earplugs in and activate the app for virtual sound. I know, if we had atmoshere the enige would make some whizzzz noise, it's electric, not combustion.
App ready? Bang! Prat! Pratatatatat! Now the force feednack! And don't activate the "natural smell" - this is a World War Two engine. Carbon monoxide and aromatics galore, be glad if you'd stay conscious!
Toy Project Day 1655
Eye to eye on the dyke along the Wadden Sea near the village of Wierum, Friesland, Netherlands.
Technical notes: Contax G2 + 45mm Carl Zeiss on 400 asa film (rebranded) by Hema department store. Digitised with a Nikon Coolscan V Ed (a.k.a. LS-50) + VueScan.
This is a second set of a couple hundred photos taken in Havana, Cuba in December 2011. The first set, which included what I felt were the best 100 photos of the 3500+ images, was uploaded earlier. You can find it here on Flickr
This woman was carefully dressed in a faux costume/outfit, hoping to be photographed by tourists, in exchange for a small amount of money. I was more interested in the color contrast between her dress/blouse and the yellowish wall behind her ...
Note: I chose this photo, among the five that I uploaded to Flickr on the morning of Jan 3, 2012, as my "photo of the day." As noted above, I was intrigued by the color contrast between the woman's clothing and the wall that she was leaning against.
***********************
As I suggested in my first set of Cuba photos on Flickr, the notion of traveling to Cuba is -- at least for many Americans today -- probably like that of traveling to North Korea. It's off-limits, forbidden by the government -- and frankly, why would anyone bother? But for someone like me, who spent his childhood in the Cold War era of the 1950s, and who went off to college just after Castro took power, and just before the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban missile crisis, the notion of traveling to Cuba has entirely different overtones.
And yet Cuba is only 90 miles away from Key West (as we were reminded so often in the 1960s), and its climate is presumably no different than a dozen of Caribbean islands I've visited over the years. Numerous friends have made quasi-legal trips to Cuba over the years, flying in from Canada or Mexico, and they've all returned with fabulous pictures and great stories of a vibrant, colorful country. So, when the folks at the Santa Fe Photographic Workshops sent out a notice in November 2011, announcing a series of photo workshops in Havana, we couldn't resist the temptation to sign up.
Getting into Cuba turned out to be trivial: an overnight stay in Miami, a 45-minute chartered flight operated by American Airlines, and customs/immigration formalities that turned out to be cursory or non-existent. By mid-afternoon, our group was checked into the Parque Central Hotel in downtown Havana -- where the rooms were spacious, the service was friendly, the food was reasonably tasty, the rum was delicious, and the Internet was … well, slow and expensive.
We had been warned that that some of our American conveniences -- like credit cards -- would not be available, and we were prepared for a fairly spartan week. But no matter how prepared we might have been intellectually, it takes a while to adjust to a land with no Skype, no Blackberry service, no iPhone service, no phone-based Twitter, Facebook, or Google+. I was perfectly happy that there were no Burger Kings, no Pizza Huts, no Wendys, no Starbuck's, and MacDonalds. There was Coke (classic), but no Diet Coke (or Coke Light). There were also no police sirens, no ambulance sirens, and no church bells. There were no iPods, and consequently no evidence of people plugged into their music via the thin white earplugs that Apple supplies with their devices. No iPads, no Kindles, no Nooks, no … well, you get the picture. (It's also worth noting that, with U.S. tourists now beginning to enter the country in larger numbers, Cuba seems to be on the cusp of a "modern" invasion; if I come back here in a couple years, I fully expect to see Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets on every corner.)
But there were lots of friendly people in Havana, crowding the streets, peering out of windows and doorways, laughing and shouting and waving at friends and strangers alike. Everyone was well-dressed in clean clothes (the evidence of which could be seen in the endless lines of clothing hanging from laundry lines strung from wall to wall, everywhere); but there were no designer jeans, no fancy shoes, no heavy jewelry, and no sign of ostentatious clothing of any kind. Like some other developing countries, the people were sometimes a little too friendly -- constantly offering a taxi ride, a pedicab ride, a small exchange of the "official" currency (convertible pesos, or "cuqs") for the "local" currency (pesos), a great meal or a great drink at a nearby restaurant or bar, a haircut, a manicure, or just a little … umm, well, friendship (offers for which ran the gamut of "señor" to "amigo" to "my friend"). On the street, you often felt you were in the land of the hustle; but if you smiled, shook your head, and politely said, "no," people generally smiled and back off.
As for the photography: well, I was in one of three different workshop groups, each of which had roughly a dozen participants. The three dozen individual photographers were well equipped with all of the latest Nikon and Canon gear, and they generally focused on a handful of subjects: buildings and architecture, ballet practice sessions, cockfights, boxing matches, rodeos, fishing villages, old cars, interiors of people's homes, street scenes, and people. Lots of people. As in every other part of the world I've visited, the people were the most interesting. We saw young and old, men and women, boisterous children, grizzled elders, police officers, bus drivers, and people of almost every conceivable race.
The streets were clean, though not spotless; and the streets were jammed, with bicycles and motorbikes and pedi-cabs, taxis, buses, horse-and-carriages, pedestrians, dogs (lots of dogs, many sleeping peacefully in the middle of a sidewalk), and even a few people on roller skates. And, as anyone who has seen photos of Havana knows, there were lots and lots and LOTS of old cars. Plymouths, Pontiacs, Dodges, Buicks, and Chevys, along with the occasional Cadillac. A few were old and rusted, but most had been renovated, repaired, and repainted -- often in garishly bright colors from every spectrum of the rainbow. Cherry pink, fire-engine red, Sunkist orange, lime green, turquoise and every shade of blue, orange, brown, and a lot more that I've probably forgotten. All of us in the photo workshop succumbed to the temptation to photograph the cars when we first arrived … but they were everywhere, every day, wherever we went, and eventually we all suffered from sensory overload. (For what it's worth, one of our workshop colleagues had visited Cuba eight years ago, and told us that at the time, there were only old cars in sight; now roughly half of the cars are more-or-less modern Kia's, Audis, Russian Ladas, and other "generic" compact cars.)
The one thing I wasn't prepared for in Havana was the sense of decay: almost no modern buildings, no skyscrapers, and very little evidence of renovation. There were several monstrous, ugly, vintage-1950s buildings that oozed "Russia" from every pore. But the rest of the buildings date back to the 40s, the 30s, the 20s, or even the turn of the last century. Some were crumbling, some were just facades; some showed evidence of the kind of salt-water erosion that one sees near the ocean. But many simply looked old and decrepit, with peeling paint and broken stones, like the run-down buildings in whatever slum you're familiar with in North America. One has a very strong sense of a city that was vibrant and beautiful all during the last half of the 19th century, and the first half of the 20th century -- and then time stopped dead in its tracks.
Why that happened, and what's being done about it, is something I didn't have a chance to explore; there was a general reluctance to discuss politics in great detail. Some of Havana looks like the less-prosperous regions of other Caribbean towns; and some of it is presumably the direct and/or indirect result of a half-century of U.S. embargo. But some of it seems to be the result of the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, and the subsequent collapse of foreign aid that Cuba depended upon.
As for my own photos: I did not attend the ballet practice sessions, nor did I see the rodeo. I did see some interesting graffiti on a few walls, which I photographed; but for some reason, I missed almost all of the numerous political billboards and stylized paintings of Che Guevera on buildings and walls. What I focused on instead was the "street scenes" of people and buildings and cars, which will hopefully give you a sense of what the place is like.
Enjoy!
A young woman, resting on one of the stone walls along the side of the central promenade of the Prado ...
This is a second set of a couple hundred photos taken in Havana, Cuba in December 2011. The first set, which included what I felt were the best 100 photos of the 3500+ images, was uploaded earlier. You can find it here on Flickr.
***********************
As I suggested in my first set of Cuba photos on Flickr, the notion of traveling to Cuba is -- at least for many Americans today -- probably like that of traveling to North Korea. It's off-limits, forbidden by the government -- and frankly, why would anyone bother? But for someone like me, who spent his childhood in the Cold War era of the 1950s, and who went off to college just after Castro took power, and just before the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban missile crisis, the notion of traveling to Cuba has entirely different overtones.
And yet Cuba is only 90 miles away from Key West (as we were reminded so often in the 1960s), and its climate is presumably no different than a dozen of Caribbean islands I've visited over the years. Numerous friends have made quasi-legal trips to Cuba over the years, flying in from Canada or Mexico, and they've all returned with fabulous pictures and great stories of a vibrant, colorful country. So, when the folks at the Santa Fe Photographic Workshops sent out a notice in November 2011, announcing a series of photo workshops in Havana, we couldn't resist the temptation to sign up.
Getting into Cuba turned out to be trivial: an overnight stay in Miami, a 45-minute chartered flight operated by American Airlines, and customs/immigration formalities that turned out to be cursory or non-existent. By mid-afternoon, our group was checked into the Parque Central Hotel in downtown Havana -- where the rooms were spacious, the service was friendly, the food was reasonably tasty, the rum was delicious, and the Internet was … well, slow and expensive.
We had been warned that that some of our American conveniences -- like credit cards -- would not be available, and we were prepared for a fairly spartan week. But no matter how prepared we might have been intellectually, it takes a while to adjust to a land with no Skype, no Blackberry service, no iPhone service, no phone-based Twitter, Facebook, or Google+. I was perfectly happy that there were no Burger Kings, no Pizza Huts, no Wendys, no Starbuck's, and MacDonalds. There was Coke (classic), but no Diet Coke (or Coke Light). There were also no police sirens, no ambulance sirens, and no church bells. There were no iPods, and consequently no evidence of people plugged into their music via the thin white earplugs that Apple supplies with their devices. No iPads, no Kindles, no Nooks, no … well, you get the picture. (It's also worth noting that, with U.S. tourists now beginning to enter the country in larger numbers, Cuba seems to be on the cusp of a "modern" invasion; if I come back here in a couple years, I fully expect to see Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets on every corner.)
But there were lots of friendly people in Havana, crowding the streets, peering out of windows and doorways, laughing and shouting and waving at friends and strangers alike. Everyone was well-dressed in clean clothes (the evidence of which could be seen in the endless lines of clothing hanging from laundry lines strung from wall to wall, everywhere); but there were no designer jeans, no fancy shoes, no heavy jewelry, and no sign of ostentatious clothing of any kind. Like some other developing countries, the people were sometimes a little too friendly -- constantly offering a taxi ride, a pedicab ride, a small exchange of the "official" currency (convertible pesos, or "cuqs") for the "local" currency (pesos), a great meal or a great drink at a nearby restaurant or bar, a haircut, a manicure, or just a little … umm, well, friendship (offers for which ran the gamut of "señor" to "amigo" to "my friend"). On the street, you often felt you were in the land of the hustle; but if you smiled, shook your head, and politely said, "no," people generally smiled and back off.
As for the photography: well, I was in one of three different workshop groups, each of which had roughly a dozen participants. The three dozen individual photographers were well equipped with all of the latest Nikon and Canon gear, and they generally focused on a handful of subjects: buildings and architecture, ballet practice sessions, cockfights, boxing matches, rodeos, fishing villages, old cars, interiors of people's homes, street scenes, and people. Lots of people. As in every other part of the world I've visited, the people were the most interesting. We saw young and old, men and women, boisterous children, grizzled elders, police officers, bus drivers, and people of almost every conceivable race.
The streets were clean, though not spotless; and the streets were jammed, with bicycles and motorbikes and pedi-cabs, taxis, buses, horse-and-carriages, pedestrians, dogs (lots of dogs, many sleeping peacefully in the middle of a sidewalk), and even a few people on roller skates. And, as anyone who has seen photos of Havana knows, there were lots and lots and LOTS of old cars. Plymouths, Pontiacs, Dodges, Buicks, and Chevys, along with the occasional Cadillac. A few were old and rusted, but most had been renovated, repaired, and repainted -- often in garishly bright colors from every spectrum of the rainbow. Cherry pink, fire-engine red, Sunkist orange, lime green, turquoise and every shade of blue, orange, brown, and a lot more that I've probably forgotten. All of us in the photo workshop succumbed to the temptation to photograph the cars when we first arrived … but they were everywhere, every day, wherever we went, and eventually we all suffered from sensory overload. (For what it's worth, one of our workshop colleagues had visited Cuba eight years ago, and told us that at the time, there were only old cars in sight; now roughly half of the cars are more-or-less modern Kia's, Audis, Russian Ladas, and other "generic" compact cars.)
The one thing I wasn't prepared for in Havana was the sense of decay: almost no modern buildings, no skyscrapers, and very little evidence of renovation. There were several monstrous, ugly, vintage-1950s buildings that oozed "Russia" from every pore. But the rest of the buildings date back to the 40s, the 30s, the 20s, or even the turn of the last century. Some were crumbling, some were just facades; some showed evidence of the kind of salt-water erosion that one sees near the ocean. But many simply looked old and decrepit, with peeling paint and broken stones, like the run-down buildings in whatever slum you're familiar with in North America. One has a very strong sense of a city that was vibrant and beautiful all during the last half of the 19th century, and the first half of the 20th century -- and then time stopped dead in its tracks.
Why that happened, and what's being done about it, is something I didn't have a chance to explore; there was a general reluctance to discuss politics in great detail. Some of Havana looks like the less-prosperous regions of other Caribbean towns; and some of it is presumably the direct and/or indirect result of a half-century of U.S. embargo. But some of it seems to be the result of the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, and the subsequent collapse of foreign aid that Cuba depended upon.
As for my own photos: I did not attend the ballet practice sessions, nor did I see the rodeo. I did see some interesting graffiti on a few walls, which I photographed; but for some reason, I missed almost all of the numerous political billboards and stylized paintings of Che Guevera on buildings and walls. What I focused on instead was the "street scenes" of people and buildings and cars, which will hopefully give you a sense of what the place is like.
Enjoy!