View allAll Photos Tagged Enfolding
"The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamouring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.”
― Kate Chopin, The Awakening
The Sculler King had trapped the Dwarven Smiths. Against their will he forced them to forge the Magical Sword. And they did, It had a hilt of shining gold, its blade enfolded in eternal flame. It shone like the Sun. It would never dull, never rust; it could never be broken. It was doomed to never miss a stroke, and could cut through iron mail as though it were the finest of linens.
The Dwarf Dvalinn, however, was more than a mere Smith. He had brought runes and writing to his kinsman as Dainn and Odin had to the Elves and Gods. More, Dvalinn was responsible for a Kenning, now long forgotten, that could return a Dwarf to flesh after being turned to stone by the Sun. And among his people, the Mead of Poetry, which enables the imbiber to recite any knowledge, answer any question, or solve any riddle or problem, was known as “Dvalinn’s Draught.” In short, he was a Sorcerer, as well as a Vulcanic Smith, and as such in contempt for the King of Rus he cursed the Magic Sword so that 1) Every time it was drawn it would kill a man, 2) It would be the cause of Three Great Evils, and 3) It would eventually kill the Sculler King himself, but the Sorcerer Dwarf needed a yet unknown final word to finish this last piece of his incantation, his enchantment - his revenge.
When the Sword was complete, The Sculler King entered the cave where he had imprisoned Dvalinn and his King Durinn, and claimed the Treasure from them. His eyes gleamed manically with violence and pride as he lifted the Sword with both hands high-guard above his head. Through his clenched teeth he resolutely uttered, “With you in my hands, Tyrving, I am Supreme.” At which the Sorcerer Dwarf quickly finished the third aspect of his curse and along with his King disappeared into a large rock within the cave which held them captive. Enraged, the Sculler King thrust Tyrving at the vanishing Dwarves, but they were ether and it only made purchase deep into the rock through which they escaped.
Waking up before everybody while sleeping in the sand dunes around Siwa, little oasis lost in the egyptian part of the Sahara Desert.
The air was quite chilly which was surprising.
So I took my blanket to the highest dune with me to enjoy the enfolding marvels of Mother Nature.
Then I stood up and took that picture where the silhouette you see is me doing exactly that.
Embrasse the serenity.
Her hand touches everywhere
A silent hidden grace
Enfolding the weft and weave of the mysterium
With the thread of invisible meaning
And yet
She is always there for those who truly want
To See
I thank Top of The Rock for hosting this beautiful event for frontline workers. It was warm & rejuvenating 💛
May the luck of the Irish enfold you and the blessings of St. Patrick's Day behold you ♥ and don't forget to watch out for those Leprechauns lol.
FRENCH __FRANçAIS
L'invitation au voyage
Mon enfant, ma soeur,
Songe à la douceur
D'aller là-bas vivre ensemble!
Aimer à loisir,
Aimer et mourir
Au pays qui te ressemble!
Les soleils mouillés
De ces ciels brouillés
Pour mon esprit ont les charmes
Si mystérieux
De tes traîtres yeux,
Brillant à travers leurs larmes.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.
Des meubles luisants,
Polis par les ans,
Décoreraient notre chambre;
Les plus rares fleurs
Mêlant leurs odeurs
Aux vagues senteurs de l'ambre,
Les riches plafonds,
Les miroirs profonds,
La splendeur orientale,
Tout y parlerait
À l'âme en secret
Sa douce langue natale.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.
Vois sur ces canaux
Dormir ces vaisseaux
Dont l'humeur est vagabonde;
C'est pour assouvir
Ton moindre désir
Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.
— Les soleils couchants
Revêtent les champs,
Les canaux, la ville entière,
D'hyacinthe et d'or;
Le monde s'endort
Dans une chaude lumière.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.
— Charles Baudelaire
ANGLAIS__ENGLISH
The Invitation to the Voyage
How sweet, my own,
Could we live alone
Over beyond the sea!
To love and to die
Indolently
In the land that's akin to thee!
Where the suns which rise
In the watery skies
Weave soft spells over my sight,
As thy false eyes do
When they flicker through
Their tears with a dim, strange light.
There all is beauty and symmetry,
Pleasure and calm and luxury.
Years that have gone
Have polished and shone
The things that would fill our room;
The flowers most rare
Which scent the air
In the richly-ceiling'd gloom,
And the mirrors profound,
And the walls around
With Orient splendour hung,
To the soul would speak
Of things she doth seek
In her gentle native tongue.
There all is beauty and symmetry,
Pleasure and calm and luxury.
The canals are deep
Where the strange ships sleep
Far from the land of their birth;
To quench the fire
Of thy least desire
They have come from the ends of the earth.
The sunsets drown
Peaceful town
And meadow, and stagnant stream
In bistre and gold,
And the world enfold
In a warm and luminous dream.
There all is beauty and symmetry,
Pleasure and calm and luxury.
— Jack Collings Squire, Poems and Baudelaire Flowers (London: The New Age Press, Ltd, 1909)
Over plowed agricultural land light, freezing cold and elusive snow carried in blizzard enfolds whats become nearly mystical......
Copyright © All rights reserved Peter Vahlersvik! Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media in any way without my explicit written permission
I did all my best to smile
'Til your singing eyes and fingers
Drew me loving to your isle
And you sang
Sail to me
Sail to me
Let me enfold you
Here I am
Here I am
Waiting to hold you
Wings of Light
Angels above her,
guardians of her soul,
protect, guide, and assist her,
so that she may grow.
Archangel Michael on his right,
Gabriel on his left,
Rafael in front of her,
Auriel at her back,
Mother Earth beneath her feet,
Christ's Light from above,
enfold her in your wings of light,
fill her with your love.
“May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow. May the soft winds freshen your spirit. May the sunshine brighten your heart. May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you, and may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.”
Irish Blessings
Gray skies, rain and freezing rain has been the norm here lately.
Landscapes at Hacienda Zuleta, high in the Andes Mountains of Ecuador.
Hacienda Zuleta is a wondrous place to explore. You are gently enfolded by the mountains and grassland all about. Rain was constant, but it added to the lushness and fertility of the surroundings, with a spectrum of vibrant greens exuberantly bursting out of every landscape. Here you felt as if you were in a garden of Eden, where new life and rebirth miraculously took place as you looked on in awe.
Good-Bye, Little Cabin
by Robert William Service
O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long,
And now I must bid you good-bye!
I've filled you with laughter, I've thrilled you with song
And sometimes I've wished I could cry.
Your walls they have witnessed a weariful fight,
And rung to a won Waterloo:
But oh, in my triumph I'm dreary to-night --
Good-bye, little cabin to you!
Your roof is bewhiskered, your floor is a-slant,
Your walls seem to sag and to swing;
I'm trying to find just your faults, but I can't --
You poor, tired, heart-broken old thing!
I've seen when you've been the best friend that I had
Your light like a gem on the snow;
You're sort of a part of me -- Gee! but I'm sad;
I hate, little cabin, to go.
Below your cracked window red raspberries climb;
A hornet's nest hangs from a beam;
Your rafters are scribbled with adage and rhyme,
And dimmed with tobacco and dream.
"Each day has its laugh," and "Don't worry, just work."
Such mottoes reproachfully shine.
Old calendars dangle -- what memories lurk
About you, dear cabin of mine!
I hear the world-call and the clang of the fight;
I hear the hoarse cry of my kind;
Yet well do I know, as I quit you to-night,
It's Youth that I'm leaving behind.
And often I'll think of you, empty and black,
Moose antlers nailed over your door:
Oh, if I should perish my ghost will come back
To dwell in you, cabin, once more!
How cold, still and lonely, how weary you seem!
A last wistful look and I'll go.
Oh, will you remember the lad with his dream!
The lad that you comforted so.
The shadows enfold you, it's drawing to-night;
The evening star needles the sky:
And huh! but it's stinging and stabbing my sight --
God bless you, old cabin, good-bye!
Christmas! The very word brings joy to our hearts. No matter how we may dread the rush, the long Christmas lists for gifts and cards to be bought and given--when Christmas Day comes there is still the same warm feeling we had as children, the same warmth that enfolds our hearts and our homes. ~ Joan Winmill Brown
“May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow. May the soft winds freshen your spirit. May the sunshine brighten your heart. May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you, and may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.”
the light of God surrounds me.
The love of God enfolds me.
The power of God protests me.
The presence of God watches over me.
Wherever I am, God is.
He wrapped himself in quotations - as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of Emperors.
Rudyard Kipling
The form of this flower is remarkable! The spathe is pure waxy white and enfolds a spiky white spadix held in place by a shiny, brilliant green stem. The flowers last for months, yellowing a bit but still remaining beautiful.
The genus Spathiphyllum is found on the forest floor in rain forests of tropical America. This explains its ability to cope with poor lighting and makes it a popular home and office plant. Here in South Florida it is used extensively in landscaping, adding a lovely flash of pure white wherever it is.
You may also know it as Peace Lily.
Biscayne Park, FL
Chinese Evergreen\
Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden, Miami FL
**View On Black** (Please Press "L")
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMU5EeMEt4s
Long afloat on shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
'Til your singing eyes and fingers
Drew me loving to your isle
And you sang
Sail to me
Sail to me
Let me enfold you
Here I am
Here I am
Waiting to hold you
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you hare when I was fox?
Now my foolish boat is leaning
Broken lovelorn on your rocks,
For you sing, "Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow:
O my heart, O my heart shies from the sorrow"
I am puzzled as the newborn child
I am troubled at the tide:
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Should I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing, "Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you:
Here I am, here I am, waiting to hold you"
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
Pacman Speeder Sharing System Technology or just PSSST provides one of a kind, exclusive service to its clients. Ride through the city in style with one of our Pacman speeders. Free charging is included with all our plans.
The compact speeder design allows you to park almost everywhere. Folding/ Enfolding is taking only 20 seconds from one position to the other.
PSSST, what are you waiting for, get your plan today!
Had fun building this one. It's based on this speeder I made back in 2021, but a lot smaller and foldable.
HBW!!!!!
Slice of Life Project
Week 3: Lesson 1 - "Let there be light"
focus on tiny treasure
Thank you friends!! hope everyone has a fantastic day!!!
Let the mist of the early morning enfold you
And dream of faraway lands
Maybe the future is hiding within it
(I took this like...3 months ago(?) and couldn't make it work. Kept coming back to it but yesterday everything finally fell into place!)
// Instagram // Facebook // Deviantart // Tumblr
in the distance of my years i cover myself with time
like a blanket which enfolds me with the layers of my life.
what can I tell you except that i have gone
nowhere and everywhere?
what can I tell you except that i have not begun
my journey now that it is through?
all that i ever was and am yet to be
lies within me now this way.
from many winters: prose and poetry of the pueblos nancy wood
The light of God surrounds me.
The love of God enfolds me.
The power of God protects me.
The presence of God watches over me.
Wherever I am, God is.
there are sometimes those odd days when know what? i just don't care about flare and burnout....this was one! the raw power of our sun, omnipotent but caressing, enfolding, burning.
Just seconds before the lighthouse lamp had given up its ghost in acknowledgement, you can just see the last tiny heatflicker at its centre.
It's not often you can get this close to north pier lighthouse Tynemouth from the north seaward rocks at low tide as it cuts you off so ferociously on the incoming. This one was worth the risk though. I was lucky to be able to get a handful of shots with rays coming behind and wrapping around the lighthouse as the sun moved gradually higher and to the right. This was taken with my little compact. No time for long exposure though :)
it was also only moments before my previous post "Where mermaids play" [http://www.flickr.com/photos/43060509@N03/6421739775/in/photostream/] -as once safe and further back I wanted to show the scene in total softness with the DSLR.
©Sheerlight Photography
All rights reserved
Forgotten Ones
-----
[ Canon EOS 3 - EF 16-35 f2.8 - Kodak BW400CN ]
.
“The reason why he failed was because he reached for the secrets too soon.”
- u м a
.
Wrapped within the tender slants of her smile,
beneath the glistening whites of her corneas,
there had always lain an enduring sadness.
I had sensed this the first time my eyes caught hers.
The downward, deflecting glance she shot towards the floor.
Head rising with a slow exhale into the chilled autumn night,
revealing the dark hazel globes of her iris.
How they enfolded me like a warm molasses blanket,
or like the wet earth caressing the tangled trunk of a tree.
And as I stood there consumed in the clasp of her gaze,
An aching quiver shot down my spine.
Piercing through what I had known as my temporal life,
tiptoeing the fence of my incidental permanence,
and touching every other quantity in between.
The contentment in her expression was light,
but her solitude had its own looming weight.
Like feeling dark shadows at night.
- ʀ i ɴ ɢ о
[ tumblr ]
Landscapes at Hacienda Zuleta, high in the Andes Mountains of Ecuador.
Hacienda Zuleta is a wondrous place to explore. You are gently enfolded by the mountains and grassland all about. Rain was constant, but it added to the lushness and fertility of the surroundings, with a spectrum of vibrant greens exuberantly bursting out of every landscape. Here you felt as if you were in a garden of Eden, where new life and rebirth miraculously took place as you looked on in awe.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mUmdR69nbM
Long afloat on shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
'Til your singing eyes and fingers
Drew me loving to your isle
And you sang, 'Sail to me, sail to me, let me enfold you.
Here I am, here I am, waiting to hold you.'
Did I dream, you dreamt about me?
Were you hare when I was fox?
Now my foolish boat is leaning
Broken lovelorn on your rocks
For you sing, 'Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow:
O my heart, O my heart shies from the sorrow.'
Well, I'm as puzzled as the newborn child
I'm as riddled as the tide:
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or should I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing, 'Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you:
Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.
“May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow. May the soft winds freshen your spirit. May the sunshine brighten your heart. May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you, and may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.”
Loch Ewe Anti Aircraft Battery Centre Left amid a circle of mountains. Loch Ewe was used during the Second World War as an assembly point for the North Atlantic Convoys to run the blockade and supply hundreds of thousands of tons of supplies to the Russian allies, this AA Battery was one of a few positioned around the loch to defend from German aircraft attack. Sorry about the flare I could have cropped the shot but thought we needed to see as much of the loch as possible to make the point of the convoy assembly point.
This from the Web:
Loch Ewe has a side many people are unaware of; this beautiful north-facing loch in Wester Ross was used as a convoy collecting point with a strong naval presence during WW2. Loch Ewe is a natural deep water sea loch that links to the Atlantic Ocean via a relatively “narrow mouth” which made it easier to protect the loch from enemy submarines. There was one Heavy Anti-Aircraft Battery and one troop from a light Anti-Aircraft Battery at Loch Ewe, about 12 officers and 380 men altogether. It was in February 1941, when the loch became a convoy collecting point, that its presence became permanent. 379 Battery of the 101 Heavy Anti-Aircraft Regiment had the longest stay, from 1941 to 1942. There were plenty of air raid warnings, but attacks on the base were rare. According to the battery war diaries, the guns were fired only a few times each month, usually at reconnaissance planes.
Arctic Convoys
6 Inch Coastal Naval Defence Gun The Arctic convoys that left from Loch Ewe provided vital supplies to Murmansk and Archangel in Russia. Besides the anti-aircraft regiment the entrance of the loch had a boom net and a mine defence system helped protect the vessels in Loch Ewe from German submarines (U boats). At Rubha nan Sasan, on the western tip of Loch Ewe is a war memorial to the crews lost on Russian Convoys. Due to its wartime destination there are many ruined gun-emplacements and remains of other small buildings scattered around the loch. There is a booklet for sale in local bookshops which contains a lot of information about Loch Ewe in the war and it makes a pleasant read. The booklet also mentions an incident at Black Bay, a mile west from Rubha nan
Anchorage in Loch Ewe
Loch Ewe Wartime Memorial Cove Ships that arrived in Loch Ewe had to pass an examination vessel and once through the boom net, for protection against subs, they were allocated places to anchor. Only the convoy commodore’s ship was allowed to moor up to a buoy, which gave direct communications with CASS (Convoy Anchorage Signal Station). This concrete base of CASS can still be seen on a high point of the road just south of the current NATO refuelling pier. The merchant shipping anchorage was south and west of Isle Ewe, whilst Royal Navy vessels were anchored between the island and Aultbea.
The last convoy sailed from Loch Ewe on the 30th December 1944. Altogether four hundred and eighty one merchant ships and over one hundred naval escort vessels left Loch Ewe for Russia in a total of nineteen convoys. For many hundreds of men who made the ultimate sacrifice, the cold grey water of the North Atlantic is their resting place. For these men the enfolding arms of Loch Ewe and the outer isles fading in the distance was the last sight of land they had, before the Russian convoys exacted their terrible price paid in human lives.
Voodoo is filthy, yet it enfolds us whole,
Lurking latent, a shadowed soul.
Blood seeps, a stain on our trembling hands,
Equally gifted with good and dark strands.
Faces and madness, personalities collide,
Humanity's generosity, awe magnified.
To bind through time, beyond all space,
One must give—body, soul, tears, and grace.
Terrible, mighty, forever untamed,
A force eternal, it cannot be framed.
It comes from my ancestors, carved in my flesh,
I am its heir, keeper of its depths.
I waited for you to set it free, break its chains,
I am your guide, your fate, and your pain.
Follow me, past death’s decree,
You are my prisoner; I am yours eternally.
Silence is key; it demands no plea,
Bound in its grip, we cease to be free.
Happy St. Patrick's Day
May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow.
May the soft winds freshen your spirit.
May the sunshine brighten your heart
May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you.
And may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.
-Pablo Neruda ( Nobel Laureate, Chilean Poet)
In the beginning, there was nought
But heaven, one Majesty of Light,
Beyond all speech, beyond all thought,
Beyond all depth, beyond all height,
Consummate heaven, the first and last,
Enfolding in its perfect prime
No future rushing to the past,
But one rapt Now, that knew not Space or Time.
Title #
Mail.
( iPhone 13 Pro shot )
Motosuka Beach. Kujukuri Beach. Sanmu City. Chiba Prefecture. Japan. 2024. … 1 / 1
(Photo of the day. Unpublished.)
Images:
The Weeknd … Niagara Fall 【和訳】
youtu.be/hz-GZub_9rw?si=5yimkNvIoidXGPlA
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
Volume 15 😄
The following is still in its draft stage and will be revised further.
Key parts are not disclosed.
The order of the content shown here is mixed.
(Of course, this is not the final version.)
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
The summer light of Manhattan afternoons flared against the glass facades of the high-rises, and each time the heat of the asphalt wavered through the alleys, the massive building of the FBI’s New York Field Office seemed to draw in the clamor of the city, holding a grave and immovable stillness, while within its walls a taut tension and vigilance seeped forth. Beyond the thick iron doors set into its corner, the countless eyes of surveillance cameras interlaced with the motions of guards, proclaiming an order unshaken by the heat waves or the murmur of the crowd outside.
Special Agent Veronica Reeves, carrying the weight of long years of experience yet with a gaze still honed to an unerring edge, sat at the long desk by the window, quietly deciphering the thick bundle of reports spread before her—accounts of what had unfolded thus far. The shafts of heat-laden sunlight pressed through the glass, warping the air, and against that trembling her thoughts held fast, focusing upon the minutiae, drawing out, in three dimensions, the possibilities of the case and the breadth of its consequences.
The figures and map symbols inscribed upon the documents she reassembled in her mind, as though enfolding the arteries of the overheated city itself—the courses of traffic, the currents of people, the compression of the skyline—ordering the incident’s first movements with a hand imbued with a quiet, frigid certainty. The sterile white light of the ceiling LEDs cast swaying shadows upon the papers, and even those faint tremors at the edges of her sight seemed to enter her calculus, like unknown variables absorbed into the mesh of her analysis.
Her fingertip traced a single point upon the map, and in that gesture she drew together the city’s flows, the density of its crowds, the thicket of its structures, conjuring within her mind a three-dimensional rendering of the ground. The clash of red and blue signals at intersections, the exhaust drifting at corners, the tempo of footsteps, the shadows of cars idling at the curb—all converged upon the figures and symbols of the page, lifting before her the living geometry of New York.
Fragments of reports crackled from radios and telephones, slipping into her net of thought and fixed into the coordinates of time and place. At what moment, in what place, had the current of the crowd shifted? Who might have slipped within which building? The jam of traffic, the swell of onlookers, the frameworks of the structures—these she aligned, reducing error to its smallest margin, until the hidden contours of the scene emerged.
Her eyes remained calm, but the faint tightening of the muscles around them betrayed the sense of danger running beneath. With her finger pressing upon a point on the map, she drew upon the memory of old cases, of the city’s blueprints, calculating risk along each imagined path. The city’s shape, the crowd’s density, the placing of exits—all she set upon a grid of logic, hypothesizing every possible turn the future might take.
Her gaze halted upon a photograph in the file, parsing the expressions of the crowd, the disposition of guards, the position of obstacles. Cold though her eyes remained, they missed no dissonance, no trace of the unnatural, intent upon catching every variable within the net of reason, undistracted by the fever of the summer city.
In the office, where the cool of the air conditioning crossed with the heat outside, her thoughts gathered speed—silent, assured, relentless. What would unfold next? Which routes were safe, which led into peril? Each decision, measured in the span of a heartbeat, bore upon the safety of the crowd, upon the life of the candidate. Her logic did not waver, its threads weaving together in her hand like cords unraveling the complexity of the city.
Before her stood not only the files, but also the glow of monitors, the static of radios. Each was but a source of fragments, meaningless until passed through the filter of her thought. To bind data to the streets, images to reality, was the task at hand, advancing cold and quiet even as the heat of summer pressed against the glass.
The sweltering air outside rattled the windows; the distant sirens and the rumble of the city did not shatter her focus, but rather deepened her mental simulation, lending depth to the field she constructed within. Figures on the page fused with the living breath of the streets, reason drawing them together into clarity, and she readied herself to strike upon the next move.
Each sweep of her fingertip across the map made the city’s avenues rise in relief within her mind: the density of buildings, the movement of passersby, the gaze of cameras, the stations of guards. All chained together, cold and inexorable, suggesting the next action. Veronica drew a long breath, and with her exhale, wove the scattered variables into a single fabric, fixing her gaze upon the heart of the incident. In that moment, the distant sirens, the horns, the shuffling of feet at a crosswalk—all dissolved into her reasoning, each sound settling into place like a piece of a puzzle within the flow of logic. The city shimmered in heat, light and shadow in feverish scatter, but her mind cut through the glare, quietly tracing the full outline of the unfolding event.
At last, Veronica lifted the receiver of the internal line, feeling the cold resin beneath her fingers, and summoned Deputy Special Agent Elliot.
“Put me through to Jack Vance, Secret Service.”
“Understood.”
The black Ford SUV cut through the summer heat, racing down the streets. At the wheel, Jack’s profile was set with strain, while in the backseat Ana leaned forward, arms stretched protectively over the children, shouting in desperation.
“Keep your eyes ahead, Jack!”
The children, jolted by the car’s violent tremors, cried out with voices that wavered between cheers and screams, unable to discern the line between fear and thrill. Beside them, Mika bit her lip, struck dumb, staring in mute shock.
Behind them, the pursuing car roared, bullets sparking off the asphalt and leaving the acrid tang of gunpowder in the air. Jack twisted the wheel, his Ford scraping sparks along a wall of concrete, gunfire rattling through the city’s very skin. Ignoring lights and crowds alike, he veered the SUV up onto the sidewalk, plunging forward as screams scattered into the air, driving on as if to outpace the terror that pursued them.
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My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
There’s still more to come. 😃
(This is not the final draft.)
Set in New York City.
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Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Title.
Mail.
( iPhone 13 pro shot )
本須賀海岸。九十九里浜。山武市。千葉県。日本。2024. … 1 / 1
(今日の写真。それは未発表です。）
Images:
The Weeknd … Niagara Fall 【和訳】
youtu.be/hz-GZub_9rw?si=5yimkNvIoidXGPlA
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
第15弾。 😄
以下は、まだ初稿の段階です。まだ推敲します。
重要な部分は公開していません。
公開している内容の順番はバラバラです。
(もちろん最終稿ではありません。)
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
マンハッタンの夏の午後の光が高層ビル群のガラスにぎらつき、アスファルトの熱気が路地を揺らすたびに、FBIニューヨーク支局の巨大な建物は都市の喧騒を吸い込み、どっしりと静けさを保ちながらも、その内部に張り詰めた警戒と緊張をにじませていた。その角に設えられた厚い鉄の扉の向こうでは、監視カメラの無数の視線と警備員の動きが絡み合い、外界の熱波や人々のざわめきにも揺るがぬ秩序を守っていることを告げていた。
ヴェロニカ・リーヴス特別捜査官は、豊富な経験を背負いながらもなお研ぎ澄まされた眼差しで、窓際の長机に広げられた、これまでに起こった報告がまとめられた資料の束を静かに読み解いていた。差し込んだ外光の熱の束が窓ガラスを透かし、空気を歪ませ、彼女の思考はそれに抗うように細部まで集中され、事件の可能性や影響範囲を論理の中に立体的に描き出していった。
書類に記された数字や地図の記号を、熱せられた街の動線や人々の流れ、ビルの密集度までを含めるかのように頭の中で再構築し、事件の初動を論理的に整理していく手つきには、冷たくも静かな確信が宿っていた。
天井のLEDの白い光が、紙面に落ちる影を揺らし、視界の隅で振れるその影さえも、未知の変数として分析に取り込まれているかのようであった。
ヴェロニカは指先で地図上の一点をなぞり、都市の動線、人の密度、建築の密集度を瞬時に組み合わせ、頭の中で現場の立体的な状況を描き出していた。信号の赤や青が交錯する交差点、街角に漂う排気ガスの匂い、通行人の歩行速度、路上に停められた車の影――それらすべてが、紙面の数字や地図上の印と結びつき、ニューヨークという巨大な都市の立体的な動線を彼女の思考に浮かび上がらせた。
無線や電話からの断片的な報告も、彼女の分析の網に吸い込まれ、時間と空間に配置される。どの瞬間に、どの場所で、人々の流れが変化したか。誰がどの建物に潜入した可能性があるか。交通の混雑状況と、観衆の動き、建築物の構造を組み合わせ、最小の推測誤差で現場の全貌を描く。
彼女の瞳は冷静そのもので、しかし微細な筋肉の緊張が、その奥に潜む危機意識を示していた。手元の地図の一点を指でなぞり、過去の事件や都市計画のデータを呼び出しながら、シナリオごとにリスクを計算する。都市の構造、観衆の密度、出口の配置――あらゆる要素を論理のグリッドに沿って並べ、想像されるすべての事態を仮定する。
ヴェロニカは資料の中の写真に目を留め、観衆の表情や警備員の配置、障害物の位置を詳細に分析した。その視線は冷徹でありながらも、微細な違和感や不自然さを見逃さず、都市の熱気に流されることなく、論理の網の中に全ての変数を捕らえようとしていた。
冷房の空気と夏の熱気が交錯するオフィス内で、彼女の思考は静かに、しかし確実に速度を上げていく。次に何が起こりうるか、どのルートが安全で、どのルートが危険か。瞬間ごとの判断が、観衆の安全と候補者の命を左右する。論理は揺るぎなく、都市の複雑さを紐解く糸のように彼女の手の中で絡まり合った。
彼女の前には資料だけでなく、コンピュータの画面や無線のディスプレイも並ぶ。それらは断片的な情報の源にすぎず、ヴェロニカの思考というフィルターを通すことで初めて意味を持つ。データと現実の光景を繋ぎ、事件の全体像を構築する作業は、夏の街の熱気の中でも冷たく静かに進行した。
外の熱気は窓ガラスを揺らし、街のざわめきや遠くで響くサイレンは、彼女の集中をかき乱すどころか、逆に現場の臨場感を補強し、頭の中のシミュレーションに奥行きを与えた。紙面の数字と街の実像が、冷たい理性の中で重なり合い、彼女は次の一手を論理的に導き出す準備を整えていった。
彼女の指先が地図をなぞるたび、都市の街路が脳内で立体的に浮かび上がり、建物の密度、通行人の流れ、監視カメラの視野、警備員の位置が、冷徹な論理の中で連鎖し、次の行動を示唆する。ヴェロニカは深く息を吸い、吐き出すと同時に、無言のうちに全ての変数を繋ぎ合わせ、事件の核心へと視線を固定した。その瞬間、遠くの街路から聞こえるサイレンの音や車のクラクション、交差点で立ち止まる人々の足音が、彼女の頭の中ではパズルのピースとなり、論理的な流れの中に溶け込んでいった。都市は暑さに揺れ、光と影が乱反射するが、ヴェロニカの思考は静かに、その熱気を透過して事件の全体像を描き出していった。
ヴェロニカは、静かに内線電話の受話器を手に取り、その冷たい樹脂の感触を指先で確かめながら、エリオット副特別捜査官を呼び出し、いった。
「シークレットサービスのジャックバンスにつないで」
「了解」
ーーーーーー
黒のSUVフォードは、夏の熱気を押し裂くように街路を駆け抜けた。ハンドルを握るジャックの横顔には焦燥が張りつき、後部座席に身を寄せたアナは、子供たちを庇うように腕を伸ばしながら、それでも必死に声を張り上げた。
「前を見て、ジャック！」
車体の振動に身を揺らしながら、子供たちは歓声とも悲鳴ともつかぬ声をあげ、恐怖と興奮の境を知らぬままに叫んでいる。その隣でミカは唇を噛み、言葉を失ったまま呆然としている。
背後では追撃の車が唸りを上げ、硝煙の匂いを残して弾丸がアスファルトを跳ねた。ハンドルを切ったジャックの車体がコンクリート壁面に火花が散らせた。都市の皮膚を削るようにして銃声が響く。ジャックのフォードは信号も人波も無視し、歩道へと飛び込み、群衆の悲鳴を振り払うように疾走した。
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
舞台はニューヨークです。
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54771288620/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54769008619/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54758538180/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54743658539/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54737038151/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54720346098/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54713957969/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54703714420/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54696914108/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54686544606/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54653035442/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54639396885/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54628511025/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...
Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
追記 この小説を多少説明しました。
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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I am burning. I have to live, I have to sing, I want to transform myself into a thousand different characters and carry their life with me onto the stage where it's so bright and so dark at the same time, just knowing there are three thousand people out there longing to be swept away by the passion that's about to flood out from scarlet curtains, to this I consecrate my body and my soul, I can give no more than all of myself, I feel my heart is a throbbing engine and my voice is the valve, like a wailing train, it has to sing or blow up, there's too much fuel, too much fire, and what am I to do with this voice if I can't let it out, it's not just singing. I am here as a speck, but I don't feel scared or about to be blown away, I feel like all New York is a warm embrace just waiting to enfold me. I am in love. But not with a person. I am passionately in love with my life. - Ann-Marie Macdonald
Outfits : CHU-ING.
CHU-ING Closing sale ～11/19
♪ Portishead - All mine
All the stars may shine bright,
All the clouds may be white,
But when you smile,
Oh how I feel so good,
That I can hardly wait
To hold you,
Enfold you,
Never enough,
Render your heart to me.
All mine,
You have to be
Something in the moment she enfolded her head on my neck and kissed, the way i felt her softness and thousands of volcanos erupt inside my chest. A moment full of love.
I have always been an old soul. A wreckage and I stopped trying to be whole since the day you told me you love broken things easily.
Each of us go through moments when we feel life much more than our heart can take.
Some of these moments are so magnificent that you want them to annihilate and revamp you at the same time. One of those moments come in form of Love.
Have you ever had a moment like that?
The light of God surrounds me,
The love of God enfolds me.
The power of God protests me,
The presence of God watches over me.
Wherever I am, God is.
This one was an outtake that I never decided not to use for the Beguiled show.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mUmdR69nbM
"For you sing, Touch me not, touch me not,
come back tomorrow: O my heart,
O my heart shies from the sorrow
Well I'm as puzzled as the newborn child
I'm as riddled as the tide:
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or should I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing, Swim to me, swim to me,
Let me enfold you
Here I am, Here I am,
Waiting to hold you"
Love.
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.
Neruda
A glint of her hair or a flash of her shoulder —
That is the most I can boast to have seen,
Then all is lost as the shadows enfold her,
Forest glades making a screen of their green,
Could I cast off all the cares of tomorrow— Could I forget all the fret of today
Then, my heart free from the burdens I borrow,
Nature’s chaste spirit her face would display.
Ellis Parker Butler, "The Wood Nymph". American Magazine, September 1905.