View allAll Photos Tagged Fragility
A tenuous and brief existence, hanging by a thread
HNY to all my flickr friends and followers - here's hoping 2022 will see brighter days ahead !
I would argue that nothing gives life more purpose than the realization that every moment of consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.
Steven Pinker
Sting - „Fragile“
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lB6a-iD6ZOY
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow′s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
How fragile we are, how fragile we are
münster - botanischer garten
edited with an iPad using snapseed only
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Blick auf die beiden Felsnadeln der Herkulessäulen im Bielatal in der Sächsischen Schweiz
Die Sandsteinfelsen der Sächsischen Schweiz weisen unterschiedlichste Grade der Verwitterung und damit quasi des Zerfalls auf. Im Bielatal ist die Verwitterung besonders ausgeprägt. Das Vorhandensein von teils sehr widerstandsfähigen Zwischenschichten hat hier zahlreiche Felsnadeln hervorgebracht von denen die sogenannten Herkulessäulen (vorn die Große Herkulessäule, dahinter die Kleine Herkulessäule) die bekanntesten sind.
Die Namensgebung geht auf Carl Merkel zurück, der bereits 1826 eine frühe Reisebeschreibung des Bielatals verfasste. Darin gab er den Felstürmen des Tals erstmals verschiedene Namen. Nicht alle Namen konnten sich auf Dauer durchsetzen - bei den Herkulessäulen ist dies aber der Fall. Der Name geht auf die in der Antike verwendete Bezeichnung der beidseits der Straße von Gibraltar aufragenden Berge als Säulen des Herakles zurück.
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View of the two distinctive sandstone rock needles, known as the Hercules Pillars, in the Bielatal valley of Saxon Switzerland
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Dieses Foto ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwendung ist nur mit ausdrücklicher schriftlicher Genehmigung meinerseits zulässig. Dies gilt auch für die Nutzung auf privaten Homepages.
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Please Note: This photo ist (C) Copyrighted & All Rights Reserved. Do not use this image in any form without my written permission.
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Following route 550, you will first pass Langjökull on the left, the second largest glacier in Iceland with its majestic forms of packed ice. A little further to the east, the gravel road takes some deep, rolling waves and then ends in a spacious left-hand bend until you come to this point.
Rain, low-hanging, mountain-enveloping cloud fields only showed the bright glow of a mysterious something between my windshield wipers and then, like in a movie ...
the fog bank slides open like a theater curtain. I got out of my car, stared at this scene for minutes and more. I don't know who took this photo, I drove alone, but I can't find any memory of touching the shutter release myself. What focal length, what aperture? Nothing, I just don't know, can't remember a thing!
Too pleading, the gesture of the outflows, like arms from the opposite of the valley, of which the streams of its glacier tongues find their finite bed in the river below.
You feel so infinitely small in this environment.
It is our world, from every creature, woman, man, child or grandchild, which looked down at me this moment and ...
as we all know, there is only This One.
Majestic, yet fragile
My new years resolution is simple: this year I want to learn one or two alternative processes for making beautiful one-off prints. I have been playing around with cyanotype and salted paper in the past, but I want more.
Now I'm trying Albumen. This is the first half decent result.
What I've learned so far:
- I should be more patient (write 50 times...)
- after beating the egg whites to a froth, I should let the albumen settle until it is mostly liquid again
- the type of paper is really important. I'm getting the best results with Hahnemuhle Platinum rag so far, so let's stick to that or similar for a while.
- Wait until the sensitized paper is dry, don't start printing too early
- Use dense negatives (which are 1,5-2 stops overdeveloped I guess). I'm not sure yet, but this seems critical.
- my old solarium seems to work well as a light source
- I should use heavier glass to flannel the negative against the paper
Maybe I should do a course to steepen the learning curve. Any tips on Albumen (or Kallitype) courses in or near the Netherlands would be welcome!
Negative 5x7" on moulded Fomapan 200. Cyanotype on questionable paper, toned in tannic acid. Contrast upped a bit during scanning.
Conditions have been very good this autumn for spotting lots of different fungi in our woodland and I came across this little cluster looking so fragile on the ground surrounded by fallen leaves. I am not sure what type they are but they do have a detain charm about them don't you think.
Autumn woodland fungi composition of two small fragile mycena fungi about 40mm tall with caps about 10mm across
"Por que al final todos nosotros somos fragiles,vulnerables....en manos muchas veces de las sombras,sin saber lo que nos puede acechar al salir por la puerta....por que nadie nos vemos libres de la violencia sea verbal,sea fisica o sea psicologica...por que todo es violencia la machista ,la feminista,a los niños..a los animales.. por que al final todos estamos a merced de unas leyes con muchos vacios muchos huecos injustos que como se dice muchas veces"no se juzga cada caso como se debe"....en un planeta donde quitar la vida a una persona es barato...violar es barato..todo ya resulta barato y lo peor de todo es que todo parece normal y esta justificado....voy a pedir un deseo ya no para el 2019 ,para cuando sea...que toda violencia ,sea condenada como se merece ..y que todos estos vacios legales que tanto daño hacen ...a alguien se le ocurra modificarlo"
Alla sera mi veniva il magone. Il viso mi cambiava espressione, lo facevo apposta. E non ci riuscivo mai, anzi, venivo sempre canzonata per questo mio atteggiamento. Lei, la piccola bimba viziata e figlia unica, lei, che voleva solo fare i capricci e non andare a letto. Lui solo cercava di riportare la situazione alla normalità. Faceva anche lo spiritoso, scatenando le gelosie dei figli. E raccontava un sacco di storie, sia dai libri che sue. Alcune volte le inventava mettendo in mezzo la moglie, rendendola protagonista di avventure impossibili, insieme quasi sempre a dei compagni animali. E noi, piccoli come eravamo, ridevamo. Raramente i finali erano tristi…
C’era molto altro da raccontare io credo, soprattutto nella notte…
-Spostati. Non mi senti? Fatti accarezzare dai, shhhh.-
…
Il silenzio era l’unico compagno di giochi che avessi. I miei giochi di adulta di allora.
Non rispondevo quasi mai, a volte mi uscivano dalla bocca solo lamenti spezzati e poche parole sussurrate, che magari non sentiva nemmeno. E quante lacrime, credo quasi come un mare intero.
Niente mi avrebbe permesso di dargli soddisfazione. Niente. E da brava bambina pretenziosa e testarda quale ero, il fiato mi spariva di colpo. Mi imponevo di essere muta e anche sorda. Come fossi dentro ad un sogno, un brutto sogno. Con tutte le menomazioni fisiche e mentali che giungevano programmate alla stessa ora.
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