View allAll Photos Tagged Fluorescent
EXPLORE: Highest position: 179 on Saturday, January 4, 2014.
Tate Modern, London. Award-winning permanent installation, known as the Café.
After a stormy day with lots of rain I sometimes just go to the beach. You never know what happens. And if you get a sky like this, I sometimes wonder if someone tries to make things right and say sorry, for the bad weather we had, with these fluorescent colors.
Explore 2017-09-09 #4
For more on this one, you could have a look at my blog: davewhatt.wordpress.com/2016/11/10/mail-art-postcard-no-4...
I spotted these gloves left on the rear of a 100 year old steam traction engine. I suppose in those days they didn't have fluorescent colourings and no damned hi-viz jackets. But to me they looked a little like licking flames....well if you half shut your eyes.
I never did like gloves. Never. From the first time my mother made me have those knitted woollen gloves on a string that went through the arms of my duffel coat. I never put the gloves on. And one would run through the arms so that it disappeared up inside whilst the other hung so far down it trailed through muddy puddles. And then I was given nylon ski mittens which in snow meant you couldn't make a decent snow ball, much less throw one with any force or accuracy. And in my youth I was always doing things or making things. You can't make things with gloves on. It meant my hands grew tough, hard calluses on my palm and pads of my fingers from lifting tens of thousands of heavy hay bales by the cutting nylon string, and cold resistant by feeding sheep in arctic Caithness in the winter. Gloves never stayed on my hands.
Now, in Snowdonia in winter, I still don't wear gloves...too much of an inconvenience. Especially with a camera.
But rough and worn as they are, they are immensely sensitive. My mother always said I should do something with my hands. "Brain surgeon" she said. And perhaps mothers do know best. But although I didn't delve into anyone's brain I did use them sensitively, for making things.
But that was a long time ago. And I'm now at a stage of life where I've suddenly got the urge to use them again. I'm not sure how, but I love touching things, I love running them over things, warm or cool, rough or smooth. I'm a tactile person, so whether it is art or craft I want to feel with my hands: feeeel with an extra 'e', And enjoy again the things that make me smile, not just mountains and valleys, but the world that lies between them too. Am I sounding weird and arty or am I just sounding full of anticipation of some fun to come in a life beyond 60?
The gloves are off. I'm ready!
Drops of highlighter ink in the center of a purple flower. The lighting was done by 2 UV flashlights. As the ink was so bright, I had to use multiple exposures and blend them into an HDR image. I used Adobe Lightroom for the basic blending and adjustments and Photoshop to clean the images from the many dust particles (which were so many).
Denali National Park, Alaska.
I was trying to come up with a title for this photo, when someone looking at the scene when I was photographing it said the colors looked fluorescent in the sunlight. I think he nailed it.
Streetlights like these two once graced the main streets in Minot from the late 1960s to the early 1980s, when they were replaced en masse with 'cobra head' HPS luminaries.
They put out a decent amount of light from spring to fall, but when exposed to the bitter cold of a northern North Dakota winter, they did struggle to produce enough light.
This pair was one of the very last such luminaries still in use in Minot, serving a second life in the Oak Park mini-mall parking lot, but they apparently came down later that year or the next as new light poles were in place the next time I wandered into that part of town a couple years later.