View allAll Photos Tagged Fail
A idéia era muito boa, mas esse dia estava calor demais, eu estava sem muita paciência e a foto acabou saindo de qualquer jeito.
Muita gente me falou que a foto está boa, mas na minha opinião falta alguma coisa... Ou então sobra!
O cenário está aparecendo demais, e está muito em foco também.
O relógio está mal posicionado, e há um reflexo que não consegui tirar nem a pau!
No entanto, gostei tanto da idéia que refiz a composição semanas depois, com melhor resultado: Variadas0021
... I wanted to eat its delicious innards, and it didn't want to let me in. Now I'm not the world's strongest woman, but I can usually manage to open jars. Not this one. 15 minutes of trying every trick in the book, and I decided it was time to try violence. Flimsy plastic jar, you are no match for my advanced knifing skills. I like to call this photo "don't @^#$% with me you $%(*&$% jar of peanutbutter!" Or: "Seriously. Get between a pregnant woman and her morning peanutbutter at your own peril."
I had the "brilliant" idea of trying to photograph nuts falling through the air.
I learned quite quickly that I had little idea of what I was doing. Looks like I need to join the strobist group.
I had this idea in mind of how I would tackle the theme "Soft". It involved nudity and soft porn, but alas, it did not work out. I just couldn't get the lights right, nor the setting or the lens. Very very frustrating. Sometimes you just fail miserably.
My advice: in case of emergency, break dance.
Or just take another picture and carry on.
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This is my 16th submission for Salon 8.
Salon 8 is a group project: 8 photographers take on 26 themes. 26 ideas seen through 8 different sets of eyes. Every two weeks we will posts these images of the world as we perceive it, as we dream and taste it.
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I tried to get our four dogs to pose for a photo with little success. I had them set for a second and as I backed up for the photo they scattered. The big rottie is Bear, the little rottie is the coolest dog ever (Parker), the Jack Russell is Jack, and the lab running towards me is Dakota.
SERIES: SPAIN
A strike of aerosol paint on a white wall in Santa Cruz, La Palma, Canary Islands.
It served as a wonderful photograph, but a failed graffiti.
I had attempted to reverse engineer Evan Zodl's Star Icosahedron, but units kept falling apart and it could not hold a point. I'm not sure if it was the size of the paper, or something else. Can somebody point me in the right direction?
EGAD. So much wrong with this add. The tarantula pictured does not make web drop lines --their webs are horizontal to the ground. They are too big to hang like this (and don't have that behavior anyway).
Additionally, it reinforces the idea that spiders are scary, and that putting the word "clinical" on anything makes it sciency sounding and better.
Veronica Guerin (5 July 1958 – 26 June 1996) was an Irish crime reporter who was murdered by drug lords. Born in Dublin, she was an athlete in school, and later played on the Irish national teams for both football and basketball. After studying accountancy she ran a public-relations firm for seven years, before working for Fianna Fáil and as an election agent for Seán Haughey. She became a reporter in 1990, writing for the Sunday Business Post and Sunday Tribune. In 1994 she began writing about crime for the Sunday Independent. In 1996 she was fatally shot while stopped at a traffic light. The shooting caused national outrage in Ireland. Investigation into her death led to a number of arrests and convictions.
On 2 May 1997, at a ceremony in Arlington, Virginia, her name and those of 38 other international journalists who died in the line of duty in 1996 were added to the Freedom Forum Journalists Memorial. Her husband addressed the audience: "Veronica stood for freedom to write. She stood as light, and wrote of life in Ireland today, and told the truth. Veronica was not a judge, nor was she a juror, but she paid the ultimate price with the sacrifice of her life.
Initially, I planned to show the "fail" of the two women who were out in trespassing land on Grandad's Bluff in La Crosse. But then I got home, looked at the photo, and realized that the sign maker failed pretty badly with "Tressapassing."
During the move to the new office, a lump of dust dislodged from a fan in Angus's computer. When he turned it on, the magical smoke escaped.
I actually got to see a real life failed bank! County Bank is, er... was on Market Street in San Francisco, a few blocks from the Embarcadero and Ferry Terminal. Truly downtown in the midst of it. And failed.
I was informed today Christmas photos had to be ready by 8am tomorrow morning. Hm. Guess I best get on that. Here is one very unsuccessful attempt. That's suppose to be an exclamation mark
Poor. Poor. Dog.