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Finally got around to sharing theqelement outside of just my Flickr account, here is the new publicity image, I think it's quite neat, I tried to go for a vortex feel, but it kinda just looks cluttered. Oh well :P
More non-production related content soon!
Bauersche Gießerei, Frankfurt a.M.: Element. Eine Schrift, die Tradition und Gegenwart vereining, s.d.
New Beginnings. Firstly, Linda, I hadn't seen your similar image when until I went to put this one up so sorry if it looks like I used your idea - I really didn't!! My granddaughter came up with this suggestion when she came for the day.
This is a photo from over two years ago. I am going back and rediscovering some of my shots; editing some for the first time and re-editing others. Fun group to work with.
There website is www.elementa440.com/
Chuck must have been in the middle of an interesting dream, I got several shots and watched for a few more minutes before he woke up.
Cobogó é o nome pelo qual foi batizado o elemento vazado feito em cimento. Seu nome deriva das iniciais dos sobrenomes de três engenheiros, que no século XX trabalhavam no Recife e conjuntamente o idealizaram: Amadeu Oliveira Coimbra, Ernest August Boeckmann e Antônio de Góis. (Origem: Wikipédia, a enciclopédia livre.)
Aqui onde moramos, em Brasília, somos muito acostumadas com essa parede de concreto toda vazada! Crescemos em edifícios e brincamos em garagens com esses buracos que sempre eram inspiradores de muitas brincadeiras! ❤ Para nosso novo espaço, queríamos uma parede para separar a loja do ateliê, mas, ao mesmo tempo, queríamos que todos lá fora pudessem ver que tinham pessoas papelando lá dentro. Mas também não podia ser vidro, por exemplo, pois também tinha que dar uma protegida na "baguncinha"... Uma parede de Cobogó: foi a solução perfeita! :-)
Para mostrar como nossa parede nasceu, fizemos um mosaico (quase uma parede de cobogós!) com fotos de como foi acontecendo... Vejam aí como ficou legal! ;)
E foi assim que nasceu nossa parede! Nós mesmas pesquisamos como poderíamos fazer e onde comprar. Escolhemos os modelos, fizemos um esquema e tava tudo decidido! Nos aventuramos com o carro da papeleira Vanessa, fomos a fábrica e trouxemos todos para o Sudoeste. Lá, no meio da reforma, o pedreiro começou a colocá-los. Que emoção! Paredes em pé, estava na hora de pintar. Por fora, foi o pintor mesmo, quem deu as primeiras quatro mãos... Já depois colocamos a mão na massa, ops, digo, na tinta e fomos pintando nós mesmas, primeiro por dentro e também por fora... E foram muitas mãos de tinta até esse cimento ficar laranja, viu?! Como chupa tinta esse tal de cobogó!... Para essa pintura contamos com a ajuda das amigas designers Jana, Lu e Beta e também do publicitário Ítalo. Muito obrigada people!!!!
Agora nossa parede faz o maior sucesso por aqui!... Além de linda e laranja (claro!) resolveu perfeitamente nossa questão da divisão da loja com o papeliê. ❤ E vocês? O que acharam?
I'm just about done with my first semester of college! Next Friday is the last day!! It's about time.... I'm tired of all the reading! I get a month off now. It'll be super relaxing. Also, I'll finally have time to shoot like I did in the summer. Expect a lot of shots from my stream starting in about a week!!
I'm planning on declaring psychology as my major early on next semester.
Abnormal Psych was great this semester, and I'm taking Intro to Personality and Intro to Cognitive Psych next semester. I'm super happy I skipped out of 1001 because of AP Psych in high school. 1001 is a real beast, according to several of my friends.... 40 pages a night....
How's everyone else doing??
THE STORY OF MURDERING BEACH A PAKEHA-MAORI ENCOUNTER NEAR DUNEDIN IN 1817
Version One
By Ronald K. McFarlane
Tales of stirring adventure among the Maoris in that romantic era of our early history, the sealing and whaling days, give us glimpses of tragic and picturesque scenes which are fast fading away.
Tradition handed down through generations of Maoris tells stories of massacres, battles, and tragedies on the Otago Coast. Some tell of fights with the pakeha many years ago. Much of this tradition is very scanty, but fortunately, we sometimes find a full account of the event written down by the captain of a vessel in his log or elsewhere. Such is the case in the story of the dreadful encounter at Murdering Beach 122 years ago.( now 200 years ago)
A few miles north of the Taiaroa Head at the entrance to Otago Harbour, and before one reaches Long Beach and the steep rocky cliffs that fall back westwards into Blueskin Bay, is a white sandy beach about half-a-mile in length. Bordered by precipitous cliffs, with steep slopes rising from the sandhills behind, it has a charm all of its own and seems to belie the terrible tragedy which once took place there. Rows of foaming breakers roll in from the ocean, and spread glistening fingers of silver over the wet sands. Whareakeake the Maoris call it, though it is better known to the holiday-maker and searcher after Maori relics, as Murdering Beach. Several cwts. of finished and unfinished greenstone implements have been found on this beach, which Maoris say was the chief greenstone manufacturing centre of pre-European times. Few people know the full story of the massacre which took place here in 1817 though they may tell you that “some sailors were murdered there.”
Te Paro, a chief of Murihiku in Southland, has given us a Maori version of the affair:—
“During a quarrel, a white man was killed by Te Matahaere. Later on, the Europeans came back and seized Korako or Karaka (an ancestor of Taiaroa). They took these captives on board the ship and the natives on shore considered how to rescue them. They feared the guns of the pakeha and so took the old leaves of the toi-toi and wove them into very thick pokeka (rough raincoats) to protect them from the bullets of the white men. Then they paddled out in their canoes to the ship, their leader being the chief, Tukarekare. Korako saw them and jumped overboard, and was picked up by one of the canoes. Not one of those in the canoes was killed by reason of their pokeka. I never heard the fate of the other natives who were taken on board.”
A European account of the affair was first given by the master of the vessel, Capt. James Kelly, a well-known seaman of his day, in the “Hobart Town Gazette” of 28th March, 1818. Later it was printed more fully in the “Hobart Town Courier” under the title, “Adventure at Otago Forty Years Ago,” from which paper it was gleaned for the “Otago Witness” of 21st August, 1858. Here is the full story of this tragic adventure —one of the most thrilling in the annals of Southern New Zealand:—
Port Daniel where the adventure is laid is now better known as the peaceful settlement of Otago. The name “Port Daniel” does not appear on charts of the time, the place being generally known as the “River.”
The brig Sophia (Mr. James Kelly, master), sailed from Hobart Town on 12th November, 1817, on a sealing voyage, and anchored at Port Daniel on the S.E. side of the southern part of New Zealand on 11th December. This place was then known to Europeans only within the last seven years. At that time there was no European settlement here, for it was not until 1831 that the Weller Brothers established a whaling station at Otakau, near the Heads. The Maoris, however, were not entirely unfamiliar with the white man, as Captain Kelly later found out. Sealing vessels occasionally frequented the coast, and anchoring here bartered for potatoes which the natives grew.
An ebb-tide was running as the Sophia dropped anchor about two miles offshore, riding safely on a moderate swell. Gazing landward they saw stretches of white beach and surf, with bush-clad slopes rising from the cliff edges and gullies to the heights of Mihiwaka and Moponui. On the south side of the “River” entrance smoke could be seen rising from a native village. Captain Kelly decided to go on shore right away, and taking a boat's crew made for the beach where he met with a friendly reception from the natives. This was attributed to the fact that one of the crew, William Tucker, had been on the coast and had won their apparent friendship some years previously. They called him “Wioree.”
Next day Captain Kelly again went ashore with six men to Small Bay (Murdering Beach). Riding in on the surf they drew the boat up on the beach and left one man to look after it.
Here also the Maoris who crowded about them knew Tucker as “Wioree,” and seemed very friendly. Making his way into the village Kelly sought the house of the chief, where he was greatly surprised to be saluted by a Lascar who told him he had been left there by Captain Fowler of the brig, Matilda, some months previously. During a long talk Kelly inquired after a boat's crew which had been lost near Port Daniel and was told that they had all been killed and eaten by the Maoris. Kelly, unfortunately in the light of later events, did not regard this as a bad omen.
Entering the house of the chief, Kelly made him a small present of iron and with the help of the Lascar, who knew the Maori tongue, began to bargain for potatoes. Round about them stood the boat's crew and also about 60 Maoris, while many more were peering in from outside trying to gain a glimpse of the curious white men. Bargaining was going ahead smoothly when “in an instant,” said Kelly, “a horrid yell was raised by the natives.” Kelly, Jim Griffiths and Veto Violi were thrown down by the mob. Tucker, Dutton and Wallon were also seized but got away and made a rush across the sand to the boat, where they found Robinson, the man left in charge, reeling at the water's edge from a bad wound in the head. Thinking it was impossible more could escape, the three launched the boat into the surf, while Tucker ran back onto the beach to help the others.
Meanwhile, Kelly, surrounded by yelling natives, was fighting for his life. Luckily he had a new billhook with him, and laying about him with this succeeded in getting away, though badly speared through one hand. Poor Veto was lying dead further up the beach with terrible wounds in the head, while Jim Griffiths was nowhere to be seen. Running into the water, Kelly pulled himself into the boat, calling on Tucker to follow. Tucker, however, was too late. A number of the savages rushed at him with spears and hatchets, knocking him down in the foaming surf and tearing him limb from limb. Only one piteous cry did he give: “Captain Kelly, for God's sake, don't leave me.” Poor fellow, he no doubt thought since the natives knew him he could save the other two. As later evidence showed, however, he was himself the cause of this ghastly tragedy.
Captain Kelly and the three survivors rowed quickly back to the Sophia, where they found to their dismay some 150 natives from the other village on the deck, the yards, and in the rigging. Exhausted by his fight and wounds the Captain was ill-prepared for more fighting when Mr. Kirk, the first mate, suddenly shouted to him, “They are going to take the vessel from us!” Calling all the crew Kelly formed them into a solid square under the main boom. With a blood-curdling yell the head chief, Karaka, gave the war-cry and his warriors, armed with spears and adzes, rushed upon the crew. Kelly shouted to his men to use their sealing knives and cut away, and in his own words “the natives began to fall so fast that a great number jumped overboard and were drowned, or swept out to sea by the strong ebb-tide, which was then running.” Karaka, in a frenzy of rage at his defeat, rushed upon an unwary sailor with a tomahawk, but was over-powered and locked in the store-room below.
It was now late afternoon, and the long shadows of the hills crept out towards the vessel as the sun sank in a golden blaze behind Moponui.
Soon after dawn next morning the natives were seen to gather about their canoes and cry out for their chief. Karaka, his hands tied behind his back, was brought on deck. When the natives saw him there was great rejoicing. Karaka called on them to bring a large canoe load of potatoes alongside, as the Captain thought, for his liberation. A canoe with two men was launched and paddled out to the ship. As it neared the brig a keen-eyed sailor stationed aft, cried out, “The canoe is full of men!” The Maoris had used a very cunning piece of strategy; lying in the bottom of the canoe were three dozen Maoris covered with flax mats. A volley was fired into the canoe from the ship. The natives, who were all armed with short clubs and spears, jumped into the water and endeavoured to pull the canoe alongside the brig. Several were shot in trying to climb up the sides of the vessel. Karaka, without warning, made a rush and jumped into the sea. Two of his men very gallantly swam to him and took him ashore, where he died of his wounds next morning.
Again a good watch was kept all night. At daylight, the Maoris were gathered in large numbers on the shore, “seemingly lamenting and crying because of the death of Karaka.” In a little while they began to launch the canoes. “We thought it better to stop them if possible,” says Captain Kelly. “We immediately manned two boats and taking arms and ammunition pulled in close to the beach where the canoes were lying, determined to destroy their navy to prevent them attacking the brig.” As they came near the beach the natives all ran away over the hill. One boat's crew jumped into the water and pulled the canoe up on the sand, while the other kept afloat to cover the men on the beach with their muskets. “We then commenced with two long cross-cut saws cutting the canoes up, each into three pieces.” Forty-two canoes altogether were destroyed in this manner, very ruthless it seems to us of a later generation. As they required firewood some were split up and taken on board. When all the canoes had been wrecked thus, the Maoris trying to catch the sailors off guard, rushed into the water up to their necks trying to get hold of the Sophia's boats, but did not wound any of the white men.
What was the reason for the Maoris’ sudden attack on the white men on Murdering Beach, and the three ghastly murders they committed? It was ascertained that the unfortunate Tucker had, in 1811, stolen a preserved head from the natives at Riverton, and had only saved his life from utu or reprisal by the vessel sailing before the theft was discovered. Incidentally this was the first baked head offered for sale in Sydney.
Whether Tucker thought that the theft had been forgotten or his offence condoned does not appear, as he had the hardihood to return and claim the friendship of the natives whose kindness and confidence he had outraged on a former occasion.
THE NEW ZEALAND RAILWAYS MAGAZINE, VOLUME 14, ISSUE 8 (NOVEMBER 1939)
Version two is a little more involved.
Historians argue the trading of Maori artefacts, including tattooed heads, forced a decline in the relationship between Maori and European sealers which resulted in a bloody conflict at Whareakeake.
A letter published in the Sydney Gazette in January 1820 appears evidence that Tucker was involved in the grim trade.
"The first of these heads that l remember to have been brought up was by a wild fellow of the name of Tucker in 1811, who got it by plunder; and so tenacious were the natives at that time of these heads, that a whole boat's crew were nearly cut off for the crime of this villain. The crew had, an hour before the sacrilege committed by Tucker, been upon the most friendly footing with the natives; when suddenly an alarm burst out and had the vessel not got immediately away, a hundred war canoes would have boarded her at once.
The same letter writer, who used the name Candor, said sealers "committed every species of depredation upon natives for the purpose of obtaining curiosities".
"It is little wonder then that vessels calling occasionally at native settlements along the Otago coast were received in the spirit of hostility", A,H. McLintock writes in History of Otago (1949).
The motive for the attack against Kelly and his men, therefore, is presumed to be the presence of Tucker, the man who had stolen a sacred tattooed head from Riverton some years before. Utu, or revenge, was exacted against Tucker and, according to the law of utu, his associates.
It is what happened next that is most contentious. Dunedin historian Enk Olssen, in A History of Otago (1984), and McLintock agree Kelly then carried out his own murderous retribution by burning a village of up to 600 houses. They are not clear which village was the target and question the scale of destruction.
Reports of the size which would make the destroyed village one of the largest in the country, came from the Hobart Town Courier in 1858, when Kelly was still alive, which were claimed to have been written from Kelly's logs. The report was reprinted in the Otago Witness the same year
Local historian and writer Peter Entwisle argues that the village burned was not Whareakeake, but a village where Otakou now stands. He said the sealers were likely to have panicked, viewing all Maori as hostile threats, after the unexpected attack at Whareakeake.
The incident was part of a wider conflict, he said, going so far to suggest it was just one incident in a minor Maori war. The theory and evidence of this are outlined in his book about the European occupation of Dunedin, Behold the Moon (1998).
Tucker was attacked at Murdering Beach because he had stolen the head. If Kelly had not been an associate of Tucker he would not have been attacked, he said when interviewed.
The theft of the head resulted in several attacks on European sealers by Maori. All were post-1810 and all involved associates of Tucker.
By my tally, 155 people were dead by 1823. Some of these are Maori and some are Pakeha. There was an otherwise forgotten war between Maori and Pakeha in the south,"said Mr Entwistle.
"Awful events did happen there and it's important that we don't gloss over it. We've managed to airbrush this whole thing out of our consciousness and its important that we remember that something bad happened here long ago. At the start of it, it was the Maori who were the victims".
Nowadays, no-one lives at Whareakeake. Three cribs set back off the beach are closed up for much of the year and the beach is more likely to be visited by oyster-catchers and shags than people who have braved the difficult road.
Driftwood litters the beach like the bleached bones Of those who died here, but now the only hostilities are likely to be bickering siblings fighting over the last sandwich in the family picnic basket.
Article from the Otago Daily Times, February 11, 2002