View allAll Photos Tagged Existence
quotidie
063 : 3.04
my art exam project has finally made a dent in my cluttered mind. thanks to miss bennett who spent a lot of time looking for the photographer she wanted to show me but couldn't remember the name of, i met Thomas Struth.
deserted streets, quasi-theatrical crowds in museums - i was, very plainly, captivated. he had completely transformed the idea i had of art upholding the mundane, the quotidian. after i had collected and prepared the photos i wanted to print out of my sketchbook, i logged off and looked round the empty BB1 art room. everything was a photograph. the sight that i lost in my period of un-inspiration (haha) was back.
i had quite a few to choose from today. even this photo has a partner, which i tried diptych-ing... in vain. it was a photo of two bananas that were also on the floor. all this overlooked existence. screaming discord. but overlooked.
A good example of peaceful co-existence with the Church and a Buddhist temple situated side by side.
And so today it was time for the planter's annual coat of paint.
Still blue, like the sea in Greece.
And it made me think.
How satisfying it felt that I was able to preserve the life of the planter for another year.
Just as it had felt good to re-use the old fence's softwood.
Just as it had felt good to use the raw wood to create the original fence.
For many years now, the wood has lived on with a little re-invention and a little care.
For many years, I too have lived on with much attempted re-invention and a little care.
And we have spent the majority of our existence in one re-invented state or another.
But once, for a very brief period, this was a beautiful tree.
And what was I?
A heart somehow made it's way into this creation, unintentionally...
Credit morguefile for the tree and field, the rest are my older photos.
Image from 'Relics from the wreck of a former world; or Splinters gathered on the shores of a turbulent Planet; proving the vast antiquity, and the existence of animal life before the appearance of Man. With an appendix on the scenery in a patch of infinite space. To which is added, accounts of the most wonderful bodies that have fallen from Heaven', 003070725
Author:
Page: 58
Year: 1847
Place: New York
Publisher:
Following the link above will take you to the British Library's integrated catalogue. You will be able to download a PDF of the book this image is taken from, as well as view the pages up close with the 'itemViewer'. Click on the 'related items' to search for the electronic version of this work.
Open the page in the British Library's itemViewer (page: 000058)
A very gloomy day today - after a couple of weeks of beautiful weather, it is back to reality (i.e. clouds, rain, humidity etc.). I do not really mind rain - in fact, I am quite glad it is raining, beacuse I will not need to water plants on the balcony (yay!) - but I hate the greyness that (sometimes) comes with it. I feel deflated. And I get a bit sad, especially when thinking of my friends in Poland, with whom I do not keep in touch as much as I would like to. I used to be really close with them and now I feel more and more disconnected from their lives. Like I somehow stop existing for them. I guess it works both ways, but it is more intense for me (I am here 'alone' and they are there together).
Well, that is the price you pay for your life choices.
Found this on Elk Head, an outcropping of rock at the end of a bluff in Trinidad. It was all the way up to the edge of the rock and clearly got hit with spray pretty frequently, yet managed to stay alive somehow. Not usually a fan of Hasselblad style square crops, but it was the only thing that really worked with this shot. Anyway, I liked it.
The city of Barcelona must have received the light of Christian faith very early on. The martyrdoms of Saint Eulalia and Saint Cucuphas during the Diocletianic Persecution bear witness to the existence of Christians in Barcelona at least by the late 3rd and early 4th centuries.
Unfortunately, we have no historically proven records of the ecclesiastical organization of our dioceses until 343, when Bishop Praetextatus of Barcelona and another five bishops of Hispania attended the Council of Sardica to ratify the provisions set forth in the Ecumenical Council of Nicea (325) as to the divinity of Jesus Christ.
Certain solidly grounded conjectures lead us to believe that Barcelona already had an Episcopal temple or Cathedral at that time, which would be used soon thereafter for pastoral ministry by other key bishops of our diocese: Saint Pacian (390), Lampius (400), Nundinarius (461), Nebridius (540), Ugne (599), Severus (633), Quiricus (656), Idalici (688), Laülf (693), Frodoí (890), etc. In the year 599 our Cathedral appears in a document dedicating it to the Holy Cross (Second Council of Barcelona).
Recent excavations of the substrata of the Carrer dels Comtes of Barcelona (which currently runs along the Eastern wall of the Cathedral) brought to light a building comprising three naves separated by two series of white marble columns. This undoubtedly identifies with the paleo-Christian basilica constructed in the 4th century and ennobled by subsequent bishops over seven centuries despite the difficulties caused by the Arian fight.
That early basilica solemnly housed the relics of Saint Eulalia in one of its chapels, hidden to avoid profanation by the Arab invaders of our peninsula (711). In 877 they were miraculously discovered at the temple of Santa María de les Arenes (or Santa María del Mar).
The primitive Cathedral, profoundly affected when the Arab chieftain Almanzor burned and destroyed the city, remained standing until 1046, when the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer the Old and his wife Almodis, together with Bishop Guislabert, commenced construction of another Cathedral, called the Romanesque Cathedral. That second Cathedral was consecrated o sn 18 November 1058 by the Archbishop Wilfred of Narbonne.
The Gothic Cathedral we have today was built on the foundations of the primitive paleo-Christian basilica and the subsequent Romanesque Cathedral. Construction commenced on 1 May 1298 during the mandate of Bishop Bernardo Pelegrí and the reign of King James II of Aragon, the Just, and was virtually completed by the mid-15th century, under the mandate of Bishop Francisco Clemente Sapera and the rule of King Alfonso V of Aragon.
Three distinct periods can be defined within the 150 years of construction: in the first, the building was planned and the apse and radial chapels were built, as were the presbytery - with its altar and crypt- and the pseudo transept; afterward, the three naves, with their respective lateral chapels, were extended back to the choir; finally, construction of the basilica continued to the façade, which was later closed with a simple wall (1417). The Cloister was finished in 1448.
At the end of the 19th century, the Barcelona industrialist Manuel Girona Agrafel offered to undertake the work on the façade and on the two side towers, in keeping with the plans drawn up by the architect Josep O. Mestres and inspired by the initial 15th-century project. Mr Girona's children finalized their father's work in 1913 on completion of the cimborio.
I don't really have any good news since writing the decidedly negative caption to my last photo. So I could continue but...I just don't have time. It's cool how all the flares of the green lights seem to be occupying spaces along the path of the windshield wiper...I GUESS!
I mean seriously, there has to be something better I could be taking pictures of.
"yeah I know, right?"
Canon SD400. I'm changing the name to POS400. Piece. Of. S. hit.
POS400. Awesome.
Photo COPYRIGHT 2008/2009 Django Malone