View allAll Photos Tagged Earthly
Earthly Bounds or Stupid Gravity...
The feeling I get when spending time under the stars. I still had very late light coming in from the west and clouds reflecting some distant light pollution.
A very dry winter in the sierras left little water in the stream flowing through the meadow and the wild flowers were somewhat absent. Fortunately the beavers participated in helping me with this set up by building a dam allowing enough water to collect and include in my shot.
Earthly Grassland.
Clustogau cawodydd meddwi canu dillad golau bore,
קערלינג יעלאָוז גרין פּערפיומז סטריקינג סאַמערז לעוואָנע,
schwingen Beeren tropfen klebrige zitter stammt nass,
viniete sezon recitarea sărbători muzicale,
צבעים עליזים במחוז נבחרו יינות ממריאים,
csavaró sugárzó út gyönyörű végtelenség nyugatra,
ontroering bloemen gevierd oplopend festivals majestueuze,
rire imminente accéléré images oranges écrans exposant,
elektriska blickar flimrande minuter röker,
fundentes per cubicula, porticus et saga posita tempestates,
smiles húire whispered roses fraternal úr le fáil,
lămpi plăcute căi uscate mari neclintit încoronate,
бэлэн олон ургуулахгүй бодол сайхан өвөл сонсогдож хол,
vaeltava valikoima yksinkertaisia melodioita tasangot,
szépségek luxus pillantás meleg enyhíti a fák,
Hallar augu fleecy víði grætur skógur sighs,
青い汚されていない豆は上羽の鳥を縁取り.
Steve.D.Hammond.
That harassed-looking elderly man, kneeling with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up grains of rice broadcast over his kitchen floor from a split bag for which he'd gone twice to Tesco, having forgotten it the first time, and wondering whether, if he could salvage some of it, what admixture of boiled fluff and old crumbs he was prepared to tolerate in future curries ...could it be me?
About 90% of earthly existence is made up of experience which, if not actually disagreeable, is certainly not particularly enjoyable either. If there could be a litmus test of happiness, I'd say most of life fell somewhere just the low side of neutral. I'm not complaining; one adjusts to it and, if we were happy all the time, life would lack moral significance. These ruminations occur to me as I see that huddle of people waiting under the inadequate canopy of Airdrie's modern yet somehow squalid bus station on Saturday 7th May 1977, in what might have been warm spring sunshine but was, in fact, a dismal afternoon of gloom and persistent rain. It's the fate of us all, each in his own way.
Standing on the greasy apron was an Alexander-bodied, Gardner-engined Bristol RELH belonging to the Eastern Scottish fleet. The few passengers haul themselves up from the littered platform and resentfully part with the fare to Thrashbush. If the driver got his full right-hand lock on he might just clear the sign and be able to pull away without reversing ...or not.
Signs of earthly redemption and symbols of environmental destruction - all of which depends on your belief/value system. Still I thought the elements came together for a good parting shot. Perhaps the theologians and environmentalist will forgive me!! Near Flatrock NL.
The Keeper fires our imagination with Earthly wisdom and understanding, let us embrace his ideas and explore other forms of expression.
The World Needs Healing and so do we all.
This painting is of my Spirit guide Charlie, who holds a very special place in my heart and life.
Materials used acrylics, wax, inks & gold leaf on paper
for Flickriver - Sophie Shapiro
.
"Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life. God keep thee! Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return!"
Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; or, The Whale (1851)
"And when we consider that ... all other earthly hues — every stately or lovely emblazoning — the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot..."
Herman Melville
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© Copyright Natalie Panga - All rights reserved.
* Lightbox: Best seen in larger size on black (click image above)
Few earthly pleasures rival the joy of lying flat on the grass to watch the clouds fly past on a windy and balmy sunny day, lazing away a beautiful spring afternoon ...
Copyright © 2011 Elizabeth Root Blackmer. All rights reserved.
You are invited to visit my website at www.brootphoto.com.
“They Came from Infinity to Destroy Man’s Earthly Paradise.”
From the back cover:
It was a great world in the fortieth century. No economic problems. No work. Robots and androids everywhere. Every girl a princess, every man a king. Pleasure, parties, amusements, art, drama and literature were the ultimate goal of every man, woman and child.
When people have too much leisure there is danger. They grow soft and effete. There hadn’t been a standing army on earth for a thousand years. There hadn’t been a single warrior for five hundred. Then the Masked Swordsmen began breaking up the pleasure parties, after the swords came guns, stolen from the museums. Then . . . worse . . . far, far worse.
But that wasn’t all. There were rumours of alien ships in the sky. Ships manned by a savage blue skinned humanoid race. Ships landed. Blues were enslaved. More blues came. Earthmen and women were captured in reprisal.
Who were the blues? Why did they come? What was their history? What were their plans for the future? Would the human race survive . . .?
----------------------------------------------------
Badger Books were published between 1959 and 1967 in a number of genres, predominantly war, westerns, romance, supernatural and science fiction. In common with other “pulp” or mass-market publishers of the time, Badger Books focused on quantity rather than quality. A new title in each of the major genres appeared each month, generally written to tight deadlines by low-paid authors. One of the most remarkable facts about Badger Books is that much of its output was produced by just two authors (using a range of house names and other pseudonyms). John Glasby (over 300 novels and short stories) and Robert Lionel Fanthorpe (over 200 novels and stories). [Wikipedia]
“The earthly remains of Susan Evans, late wife to Lewis Evans and daughter to Edd Phillip of this parish were here interred the 4th Day of August 1733 in the 25th year of her age”
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Wedi ei ailolygu: 9/2016
Depicting the creatures from the paintings of Jheronimus Bosch this daily lightshow in 's-Hertogenbosch is a spectacle not to be missed!!
The building on the far left (De Kleine Winst) is the building where Bosch grew up
Captured by NASA's Earth Observing-1 (EO-1) satellite on July 27, 2001, this natural-color image shows the unusual landscape of Wadi Rum in southwestern Jordan. A land where granite and sandstone mountains with vertical slopes and filled with red sand tower throughout the landscape, it is often called "Valley of the Moon".
Credit: NASA
Image Number: GSFC_20171208_Archive_e001903
Date: July 27, 2001
Lady December: Lady on the Moon is a vision of celestial sovereignty—an earthly figure transfigured into lunar myth. Her cream-colored gown, embroidered with red and gold at the waist, becomes a garment of starlight, while her flame-like hair burns against the darkened void. She is poised as if standing upon the threshold of the cosmos, a goddess whose presence bridges winter’s hush and the eternal silence of space. The slit of her dress reveals both vulnerability and strength, echoing the moon’s dual nature—hidden and revealed, shadow and light. This portrait is not merely fashion, but a mythic ascension: December herself enthroned upon the moon, radiant, eternal, and sovereign of endings that birth beginnings.
Lady December: Lady on the Moon
She stands upon the silver silence,
her gown a hymn to winter’s breath,
her hair a flame against the void.
The original:
www.flickr.com/photos/193091759@N04/53689149432/in/datepo...
A sovereign crowned by lunar light,
her presence bends the darkness,
her gaze a constellation reborn.
The embroidered waist glimmers,
red and gold like sacred fire,
a relic of earth carried skyward.
Her slit dress reveals the secret—
that strength is never without
the vulnerability of flesh.
Lady December ascends the moon,
her footsteps echo in eternity,
each fold of fabric a tide.
The cosmos listens in silence,
stars bow like priestesses,
planets circle her throne.
She is the hush between seasons,
the ember that refuses to fade,
the goddess of endings and seeds.
Her hair burns against the void,
a flame wrapped in snow,
a myth enthroned in the stars.
The moon cradles her presence,
its surface a chalice of light,
its shadows a veil of mystery.
She is not cold, but eternal,
her warmth hidden in silence,
her fire clothed in frost.
Each breath she takes
becomes a tide upon the earth,
a rhythm of renewal and release.
Her gown whispers of winter,
woven from frost and memory,
stitched with threads of time.
The red and gold embroidery
is a covenant of flame,
a promise of dawn within dusk.
She gazes beyond horizons,
her eyes twin lanterns,
guiding pilgrims through night.
The stars gather like roses,
their petals shimmering,
their thorns hidden in shadow.
Her silence is not absence,
but the fullness of waiting,
the pause before renewal.
The moon becomes her altar,
its surface consecrated,
its light a hymn of devotion.
She is both priestess and queen,
both flame and frost,
both ending and beginning.
Her presence bends the cosmos,
time itself kneels,
seasons bow in reverence.
The slit of her dress
is a doorway of revelation,
a threshold of strength unveiled.
Her hair flows like fire,
a river of embers,
a crown of eternal flame.
The void is not empty,
but filled with her song,
a hymn only silence can hear.
She is the sovereign of endings,
the keeper of beginnings,
the goddess of thresholds.
Her gown drapes like eternity,
folds of time and memory,
woven into celestial cloth.
The stars are her witnesses,
the planets her choir,
the cosmos her cathedral.
She burns in the dark sky,
not consumed, but eternal,
a flame wrapped in snow.
Her presence is a covenant,
a promise of renewal,
a myth that lingers in silence.
The moon bows beneath her,
its craters become chalices,
its light a crown of fire.
She is the pause between breaths,
the silence between words,
the ember between seasons.
Her gaze pierces the void,
revealing constellations,
summoning forgotten myths.
Lady December ascends eternal,
her throne the silver silence,
her crown the flame of winter.
And when the cosmos fades,
her myth will remain,
a flame enthroned upon the moon.
Wikicommons "Garden of Earthly Delights" commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Garden_of_Earthly_Del...
Wikicommons "Mona Lisa" commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mona_Lisa,_by_Leonardo_da...
Taken with SEL1018
This photo was chosen as the cover photo of “the group Aimez-vous les fleurs ? (No B&W) “.
John 3:12 " I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if i speak of heavenly things?"
I was in a Fred Meyer when it happened.
or, at least when i found out about it.
It sounded like a practical joke at first. Then the cell phone calls and the panic set in. I've never been good in crowds of strangers anyway, so it didn't set in on me like it did to most of them. By the time i was driving home,the dreamy buzz wore off, and was replaced by a flaming ambulance that sideswiped me. I woke up 15 minutes later to the sound of gunshots and sirens. I crawled thru the windshield and gazed upon a world without its mind.
A world devoid of rules.
Reports were sketchy at best, but it sounded like California was hit first. A missile the size of a 747 erased nearly 34 million people in the moments i walked into that store.
people don't know what to do with that kind of information.
Numbers like that are above our comprehension.
Humanity, at it's core, was lost forever that day.
Only a broken reality and ash remain.
The first week passed in a blur, none of the days identifying themselves. Communicating across the nation died off in a matter of 10 hours, and even that was missed signals and broadcasts with so much static it only gave you every few words. Rumors of an electro-magnetic explosion circled the groups as only a very few vehicles were working. Electricity , water, all the commodities we have ingrained in us, were sporadic at best. there were so many questions as to why this had happened and what we could do to help balance it all out.
Sleep, when it came was full of distorted nightmares.
Sometimes i would dream of a world that was so much more simple. A world where people still went to their jobs, sports still entertained, and death didn't have its mellow gaze fixed on each and every one of us.
At the end of the first two weeks, there had been over 400 suicides. People had killed each other over bottled water.
Graves became anywhere close by you could dig them.
public parks were lined with bodies. The scattered military forces and police that were around were as lost and confused as the rest of the public. There was no news at 11.
Cellphones and landlines were quiet pieces of plastic.
The one and only thing i could put my finger on
that still existed from the lives we knew before, was the desperate look to authority and religion when the shit hits the fan.
It sure seems like living was the easy part.
---- ---- Next Episode
..
This image was captured from a commercial airliner thousands of feet up and above the cloud base somewhere over Europe. It provides a somewhat other worldly feeling.
Bonnie left this earthly realm on April 4th. While not unexpected (we knew she had kidney issues when adopting her) she is still very much missed.
Day 93
Exhibition of Elmar Trenkwalder - Garden of Earthly Delights in Museum Beelden Aan Zee in The Hague
The Austrian artist Elmar Trenkwalder (1959) evokes a baroque world in his sculptures and drawings, in which a mixture of eroticism and architecture takes place. Columns have phallic shapes and ornaments are made up of entwined human figures. The formal language and exuberance are related to the Baroque architecture, which flourished in Austria. Trenkwalder creates his own, sensuous variant of this, initially in drawings, but also in ceramics. His monumental ceramic sculptures, accompanied by drawings, are brought together in an exhibition in the Main Hall of the museum. The theme of the exhibition is Garden of Earthly Delights. The exhibition is arranged like a garden, the statues take the forms of architectural hedges, fountains and growing shapes reminiscent of branches and tree trunks. Central to the exhibition is an immense new sculpture, almost a garden in itself, a hortus conclusus, with a forest of ornaments, arches and botanical forms to wander in. The botanical aspects together with the erotic ornaments make the theme Garden of Earthly Delights more than opportune.
- A photo that reminds me of Tolkiens Lord of the Rings. Taken at Crown Point in the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon
Live life to the fullest.
Have no fear, dream big and dare to fail.
Embrace failure and let it help you steer in the right direction of your dreams.
Believe in them.
Then you are halfway there.
You will become what you believe in.
Dream big!
Be inspired by your ability to dream.
Because whatever we have now was once a dream.
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Vive la vida al máximo.
No tengas miedo, sueña a lo grande y atrévete a equivocarte.
Acepta los fallos y deja que te ayuden a seguir en la dirección correcta para alcanzar tus sueños.
Si eres capaz de creer, ya tienes la mitad del camino hecho.
Sueña a lo grande!
Déjate inspirar por tus sueños.
Porque todo lo que tenemos ahora fue una vez un sueño.
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Assapora la vita al massimo.
Non temere, pensa in grande ed abbi il coraggio di sbagliare.
Accetta il fallimento e lascia che ti aiuti a seguire il cammino giusto per raggiungere i tuoi sogni.
Se sei capace di credere, sei già a metà strada.
Sogna in grande!
Fatte ispirare dalla tua capacità di sognare.
Perché tutto quello che oggi abbiamo una volta era soltanto un sogno.
After being wrapped between the images of an original copy of Stan Brakhage's "Garden of Earthly Delights" , these leaves absorbed the resolution. The transfer was assisted by fire, freezing, baking, peroxide, bleach, and years of devoted attention by my neighbor, Carl. The plan is to show the finished product at the New York Film Festival. The unfolding process was so exquisite, it brought tears to our eyes.