Hard at work fulfilling a desperately needed order of bog rolls.

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A Deep Hug and Hearfelt thank you to my Friend Emma for playing along

 

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Masquerade Ball

 

“Raffles” Pitch

 

“Cheerio” A J Raffles at your service. Don’t know if any of you have ever heard of me, but I’ve been accused of being a man of many talents, but by no means was that always said as a compliment.

 

Also, I do love playing cricket.

 

Batting in a cricket match produces for me the same flow of adrenaline as that of my secret game: Jewel Thievery.

 

A J Raffles is a fictional character whom I admire for the introduction above. For I am, like him, a professional Jewel Thief.

 

And tonight was no exception as far as any adrenaline flow Raffles would have felt, for I was experiencing what I can imagine was the same exhilaration.

 

This evening I was attending a surprisingly posh masquerade ball being held at a large venue in Wales.

 

It was a very elegant affair, with the many ladies present putting on their most pretty attire and wearing out that evening, their most expensive vault kept baubles.

 

The venue seated about 500 guests with a raised dance floor at one end, next to a fully stocked bar and a large outside balcony overlooking some rose gardens lined by old woods.

 

I had decided to attire myself as said Raffles for a tongue-in-cheek tribute to what I hoped to gain this evening.

 

Mostly to gain some jewels by parting some of the ladies from the lovely ones they were wearing. Which, here tonight, presented a plethora of opportunities.

 

I would try and make it as pleasant as it possibly could be for my chosen female victims as my fingers worked over their exquisitely clad figures while removing their valuable jewels.

 

I find that a few kind words, some attention, and possibly dancing produced a little sugar that helps with the bitter pill I am giving them to swallow

 

This evening I was wearing all black attire of tails, vest, shirt, and tie. Since it was a masquerading affair, I wore a black phantom of the opera half mask. Since this was business as well as pleasure I was wearing no gentlemanly gloves, needing my nimbly flexible fingers to be free.

 

After I entered I made several slow rounds to learn the layout, doing some light mingling along the way.

 

The odd thing about this masquerading ball was that there were no fancy costumes. Everyone was dressed in their best evening out attire, with masks just added.

 

I made a catch right away as I impressed an older matronly lady enough that she called over her 30 something daughter to meet me.

 

It was now my turn to be impressed.

 

The daughter, Celcia, was dressed in a very elegant long-sleeved dress of silver satin. Her jewels were all set with diamonds. Her silver half mask is set in rhinestones.

 

We went off alone to look over the gardens from the balcony.

 

We guess what each other is “masked” as. I told her she must be “Lucy”

“Lucy?” she questioned

 

I laughed lifting her silky hair up and then running my fingers down the side of her long swaying diamond earrings, as I said. “lucy in the sky with diamonds. “

 

“Good guess, but I'm just Cecelia, not anyone else. And you sir, are you an undertaker?”

 

I chuckled. “ Not quite as dark as that, I'm shooting for a Raffles image tonight.”

 

“Well Mr. Raffles, not sure who you are, but it is my pleasure to meet you.”

 

We chatted for a bit more, then Celcia was called back inside by her mother who stood by the balcony entrance.

 

I took her hand, rings flashing. “ the pleasure is all mine dear ‘only Ceclia’l said grinning.

 

She rewarded me for my praise with a clingy hug.

 

I watched her leave with clenched fists, her gown swishing along down her figure quite provocatively. I opened one of my fists and admired the diamond bracelet that lay there. Her now naked wrist was covered up by the silver satin cuffed sleeve of the lovely Cecilia's dress, hiding her loss.

 

£23,000

 

I slipped it inside a hidden pocket of my vest, and patting it, went back inside.

 

The band had started playing and the dance floor was fast filling up.

 

I spied a group of ladies wearing feathery masks who were huddled at one end of the floor, blocking an aisleway, watching the assembling dancing couples. I approached and overheard that they were waiting for their partners to come back from the bar.

 

Since they were blocking my path, I went up and asked if I could cut through. They obligingly parted and as I went in between them one of the ladies tripped against another as I ‘accidentally’ stepped on her satin gowns’ long train as she moved to make way. I caught her and apologized as I held her, my fingers freely feeling along down her figure. I helped her back on her high heels, steadying her. Helping myself at the same time to the leaf-shaped diamond studded clip that was pinned to the side of her chocolate brown gown.

 

The diamond-studded clip soon joined the pocketed diamond bracelet.

 

£18,000

 

My third score that evening almost literally fell into my lap.

 

I had ordered a brandy at the bar figuring to take a brief respite. There were two ladies next to me chatting away. The one immediately next to me kept bumping against me as she laughed at almost everything the other lady was saying.

 

I didn't mine, for her thicke wine-colored silk blouse was a pleasure to feel rubbing up against me. Also, a pleasure to see where the magnificently large rings she was wearing on her fingers as well as the diamonds wrapped around her wrist.

 

Then it happened. The laughing lady’s friend knocked their drinks over. Some of which happily splashed on my arm.

 

As apologies were given and received, with much giggling, I came to the rescue with my silk handkerchief.

 

Lending it to them I allowed them to wipe themselves up. As we chatted, the lady next to me finished with it and handed it back. I took up her fingers as she did, and holding them down lifted and kissed the back of her hand. I also was running my damp handkerchief over her still wet fingers as I did, easily slipping of her largest flashy cocktail ring in the process.

 

£ 9500

 

Then the dancing began in earnest.

 

I was now sitting at a table on the outside balcony, watching the crowded dance floor and the amazing show of the ladies flowing attire, and their flickering jewels, that were being showcased there.

 

Also in my view was a table where a handsome bearded male was enviably sitting alone with not one, but two attractively attired and ornamented lades.

 

One lady was wearing a black satin blouse with a long thicke red velvet skirt. She was wearing rubies and diamonds around her throat and wrists that were just a treat to look at, and covet.

 

The other was fashionably wearing a slick satin high necked gown of deep red that spilled down along her figure in a most scintillating manner. Her jewellery was a winning collection of diamonds worn seemingly everywhere from her figure. Of those, I would award a purple ribbon to the dangling necklace that lay around and fell from her throat that dripped columns of diamonds down the front of her sheer red gown, as the best in the show.

 

I saw the man rise, and pull out the chair of the lady wearing the rubies. He then led her off to the upper dance floor, unknowingly leaving the lady in red vulnerably alone.

 

I saw the remaining lady stand up and with what I imagined to be a whimsical manner, walked to the edge of the balcony.

 

I started to rise.

 

But a gold mask-wearing bloke from another table approached her before I had half risen and began talking to her. I learned then that her name was Emma.

 

What was odd is that the man had been sitting at a table with a lady wearing a sky blue satin dress, black satin jacket, and pearls. She looked very sad watching her gold mask-wearing tablemate talking to Emma.

 

I had dejectedly sat back down, watching with curious interest.

 

The gold masked bloke took Emma by the hand and led her to the dance floor.

 

I saw the lady in sky blue satin, and the pricey pearl slowly rises and follow.

 

As then, did I.

 

The lady in blue was standing in the side of the dancefloor, her posture told me she was both sad and dejected.

 

I went up and stood next to her. Without looking at me the lady in sky blue sleek satin said...

 

“Why are men such idiots?” then she looked at me, and blushed apologetically “I am so sorry.”

 

I held up my hand. “Apology accepted, a dance though would help ease the pain.”

 

She eagerly went with me and taking her warm, soft figure in my arms we joined in.

 

She did not appear to want any conversation from me. I let her hold tightly against me. We danced in silence, both lost in our own respective thoughts.

 

I had decided that a dance would not be enough to ‘ease my pain’ and as she distractedly looked around for the gold masked bloke dancing with Emma, I allowed my hand the move up to her shoulder, then over to the single strand of glistening pearls that lay around her throat.

 

Easily locating, then slipping open, the hinged silver clasp, I gently pulled the slippery smooth necklace away from around her neck and quickly pocketed it.

 

£ 8700

 

I had no sooner done so than I felt her shake, and saw that we were now close to the gold masked male dancing with Emma. One would need a crowbar to separate him from her. I could tell Emma was not enjoying herself.

 

I was watching, with melancholy interest, Emma’s diamonds dripping down from the necklace that lay low along the high neckline of her luxurious red satin gown, just dangling below her breasts.

 

A desiring fire was starting to stir from deep within, my fingers felt like curling. So close and yet so far...

 

I turned my partner around so we were facing away. I started to say something when I felt an unexpected, firm tap on my shoulder.

 

Well, one could imagine where my mind went as I turned my head.

 

Relieved, I saw that it was not one of the rental security men.

 

It was the gold masked table partner of the lady in blue satin I was dancing with.

 

I saw his more recent partner, Emma, the one in red whose dazzling necklace was a stirring lure, standing there in the middle of the dance floor, alone and confused.

 

“Switch partners.” He told me, it was not a question.

 

I looked at mine and she nodded ok.

 

I left her to be grasped up in his arms and went to Emma, the lady in red, who willingly came into mine.

 

“What then, was that all about? I asked smiling.

 

Emma answered with a giggle. “ He was telling her he wanted to see other women. But she is not supposed to he dancing with other men, especially handsome ones like you!”

 

With a shy nod of my head I thanked her, telling her that I thought she looked extraordinarily beautiful this evening.

 

Sweetly smiling she turned her head down with blushing cheeks, thanking me.

 

My hand meanwhile, which had been resting motionless along her shoulder, moved to her throat, my fingers blindly seeking and locating the clasp of her necklace.

 

My partner felt none of that.

 

It was as she nodded after my words of praise that I flicked apart the jewelled chains’ clasp that my fingers had fiddled open.

 

As she looked back up I began to delicately slip the diamond chain up over her shoulder, watching as the diamonds hanging from its’ centre were gliding up effortlessly from along the front of her red satin gown, then up and around the gowns’ slick high neckline, before disappearing from my view.

 

She smiled most fetchingly into my eyes, oblivious to the fact her heavily jeweled diamond necklace had been disappearing over her shoulder.

 

£ 58000

 

The music was ending and I happened to look over by the double oak doors of the main entrance on the opposite side of the mammoth hall.

 

Who did I spy but the lady in the sleek sky blue satin dress and smooth black jacket being led out by the gold mask-wearing bloke who had cut in on us? I saw an opportunity to plant a seed.

 

I pointed it out to Emma. “Wonder where they are off too in such a hurry?”

 

“They do appear to be on a mission,” said Emma watching.

 

“I hope they weren't up to something?” I said suspiciously.

 

“Like what ?” Emma asked watching the couple scurrying out the door.

 

“Oh, nothing. I guess I read too many mystery novels. I answered stealing a look at the now bare neckline of Emma’s gown.

 

The music ended and I walked Emma back to the balcony. Her table was deserted so I took her over and seated her before taking my leave.

 

I began to make another round of the tables inside. On the lookout for fresh prey amongst the beautifully attired female guests.

 

I soon snagged a young damsel who had been deserted by her friends and looked bored. Not boring were the collection of rubies she was wearing with her elaborate maroon taffeta puffy ball gown that would have shamed a princess.

 

I asked and got permission to dance with her. She asked me who I was this evening. When I mentioned Raffle’s name she, unfortunately, caught on to who he was.

 

“Oh a thief, will make sure to lock my rubies up this evening to keep them safe! She giggled touching her handsome ruby and diamond necklace

 

I thought to myself... “Well, they are now.” while saying. “ I was thinking of him being a cricket player, not a thief.”

 

We both laughed over that, but I knew this one was a dead end. I could not wait until the dance was through so I could resume the hunt. I really had thought none of the younger ones would have ever read about AJ Raffles and that it would be my inside joke.

 

We parted after the dance, she headed off happily back to her friends.

 

I was watching her, deciding what to do next, when a soft gloved hand unexpectedly rested on my shoulder.

 

Turning, my eyes took in a young lady in downy soft, flowy peach chiffon over a shiny pink silk number, along with a row of sparkling matched diamonds around her throat. And earrings to match, as well as a thin band of diamonds holding back her freshly washed chestnut coloured hair. She wore a striking blue mask with ostrich feathers.

 

She shyly asked if I was available for the next dance. And I happily told her I was. She put her head down blushing. And I was able to savor her delectably pretty matched diamond stone necklace.

 

I whisked her off to the upper dance floor as the music began.

 

When the inevitable questions came up as to who I was this evening I answered...”The cricket player Raffles, at your service.”

 

She laughed with a Twitter. “Quite pleasant to meet you cricket player Raffles.” then she moved her hand higher up my back and came in a little closer.

 

I followed suit, feeling her hot figure slip in against my own. My fingers at her waist kept moving up until I reached the back of her neck. Carefully undoing her necklace I gave it a slight tug, figuring her soft smooth gown would allow the rest of my trick to work. It did, slipping off easily from around her throat, slithering like a glimmering snake up over her shoulder, out of my sight, and into my waiting hand behind her back.

 

My pretty dance partner felt nothing, as I then pocketed her expensive necklace.

 

£42,000

 

I then calmly began to finish the dance.

 

It was then, as I was looking down at the area below the raised platform of the dance floor, that I spotted something shiny, then a flashing brilliant fire erupted, all coming from one of the tables below the dancing areas raised platform.

 

I maneuvered us in closer for a better peek.

 

I made out a lone female sitting at a side table.

 

It was the vivid deep green of her shiny party dress that then first caught my eye.

 

It was the amazingly brilliant sparklers she was sporting from various points of interest along her delightful figure, especially the fiery necklace she was playing with, that finished the capture.

 

Only real jewels, or a remarkably good set of imitations, would produce that kind of bright gleaming shimmer!

 

I was betting they were real.

 

She was vulnerable, sitting there quite remarkably alone at her side table, drinking slowly from a small goblet of wine. Sitting there wearing in all appearances to be a collection of diamond sparklers that would easily be worth a cool £50 to £75 thousand of what the London ruffians would call “ice”.

 

They would also be rudely calling her “that loaded bird”. But to me, she was a rather fetchingly adorned Lass who needed some company, and perhaps just a wee bit of trimming.

 

The dance ended and I calmly led my partner back to her table before taking my leave. Though trying not to appear in a hurry. I still politely declined her offer to join in a drink at her table.

 

Then with eager anticipation, circled about hoping that the girl I had spotted was still there, and still alone.

 

When I got there I saw to my dismay that the bird had flown the coup. The table was deserted

 

I waited a few long minutes, eyeing around for other opportunities in the area, then my eyes lit up as I saw her coming back, alone.

 

I observed her for a satisfying few long minutes from a shadowy corner. She was younger than anyone I had yet met, but it was impossible to determine how young.

 

And she obviously was bored.

 

Intriguingly I could still not truly tell about the authenticity of her amazing collection of diamonds from my vantage.

 

The set was decidedly quite lovely, consisting of a dangling chain set with I guess were diamond chips and ending with a swaying diamond heart-shaped pendant, matching long earrings, a wide bracelet, and numerous shimmering rings.

 

The earrings were brilliant, falling from her ears in sheets of (synthetic/real ?) diamonds, larger stones were set at the earrings clasp, and they shone like the real thing.

 

They all contributed to making up the shimmer that surrounded her figure like some wickedly glittering halo.

  

She was wearing a black bandits mask, which I felt added to the mystic.

  

This young chick was certainly jeweled up, calling out to be looked into further.

 

I approached her from behind, placing a hand delicately upon a plushly soft shoulder, and daringly gave a greeting as I felt her startled figure flinch.

  

I cheerfully said, “Hello Samantha.”

 

She turned and said apologizing,

 

“I’m not Samantha, wrong girl.”

 

I answered back, disappointed “ No, you certainly are not my friend Samantha.”

 

I then carefully looked her over, up and down… before saying.

 

“Far prettier, if I dare say.”

 

I had ascertained by now that she was quite a bit younger than 20. And that most of her jewelry was quite good imitation’s. Her heart shaped pendent contained real diamonds, but not valuable enough for my attention. The only fly in the ointment was her earrings. They appeared to be worth quite a bit actually.

 

I decided to hold off judgment and went on playing her on. Much like a fly fisherman will play a trout, not sure if he still wants to actually land it.

 

I went on…

“Well stranger, How do you do, Hold anyone up lately?”

 

I had taken her off guard and she did not answer back right away.

 

She gulped., obviously making a decision.

 

She sweetly raised a hand. “How do you do sir, my name is Nancy, and no, despite the mask, I'm not a thief.”

 

Taking her hand I kissed it with much pageantry. “Pleasure is all mine, glad my watch and wallet are safe”. I chuckled merrily, looking down at her thoughtfully.

 

Then, still holding her hand, I boldly asked…” May I sit for a bit, rather tuckered out at the moment?”

 

She nodded her head without hesitation. Her flash earrings swayed with a beckoning motion.

 

I slipped in the seat in front of her, my back to the dance floor. She was looking at me with a curious smile.

 

I smiled back, asking…

 

“So Nancy, what then, does your character do for a living if she is not a thief?”

 

“ I am an amateur detective.”

 

I nodded before asking….

“ Well, that is quite interesting indeed, what kind of cases do you like working on?”

 

She did not know how to answer that and squirmed as I watchers her face turn red, really making the freckles show up on her cheeks.

 

I saved her discomfort by saying…

“ I bet you are really clever at catching thieves. And that is why you are here this evening? Or are you taking the night off?”

 

Taking the cue, She nodded saying in a low voice.

“No thieves here tonight.”

 

I laughed in what I hoped would be a winning manner while answering. “ I guess not, probably no reason for one to be here. So miss Nancy, you've not asked whom I am playing this evening.”

 

”Let me see, an Undertaker ?” ”Nancy,” said teasingly.

 

I chuckled..”Not even close. A.J. Raffles, cricketer, at your command my lady.”

 

She had no idea who A.J.Raffles was, I could see that. And I decided to enlighten her a bit by telling a story.

 

He chuckled. “Never heard of him? Well, Raffles loved to play cricket, as well as several other hobbies. And there is a story behind that, as a lad, that helped him choose his course as an adult. Care to hear it?”

 

She eagerly nodded yes, while taking a sip of wine.

 

I began my tale…

 

“When A.J. Raffles was a lad of ten he attended a wedding where his parents were both best man and maid of honor. A.J sat at a table with an older Great Auntie who paid him no heed.

 

He soon fell in with a group of bored older boys who had been throwing dice in a makeshift crown and anchor board. The game had been broken up by one of the servers and they had all been chased away

 

AJ was huddled in with that group as they watched the dressed-up wedding guests up on the dance floor. They began talking amongst themselves, commenting over the scene before them.

 

Look at dem jools the birds are wearing. Bet they'd be worth a lot. One of the lads said. Another quipped back that too bad those dames weren't their age. Yeah, like that would mean anything. What would you do, lift their jools? Came the teasing retort. Hell yeah, I would say a cocky lad. And someone else said I like to see you do it. AJ was taking all this in, squirming a bit because he had always had a secret desire to somehow make a collection of the pretty jewellery he'd seen ladies wearing. Tonight was no different.

 

“Nancy” smirked “Sounds like my brother.”

 

“There you go then, you know how he felt also “ I answered smiling curiously before continuing...

 

Well as fate would have it, two young teenage girls came walking past, purposefully close. They threw the group of boys a rather coy look while passing.

 

One was dressed in a slick satin high necked gown of deep red with a long rhinestone necklace and earrings. Her companion was wearing a sky blue sleek satin party dress, smooth black jacket, and strands of imitation pearls.

 

No sooner had they passed than the inner circle of boys began to dare and double dare. Money was put up in bets that enticed two of the lads to take up the challenge. That being to come away with the girl’s necklaces.

 

The two lads left, and as the others looked on, went up to the two young lassies and began to converse. The giggling girls finally allowed themselves to be led to the dance floor

 

As they began to dance, more bets were made amongst the remaining lads, with young AJ joining in. Spending his only farthing on blue satin losing her pearls, and doubling that it would be done without her noticing.

 

Both of the dancing boys made several amateur attempts upon their female partner’s jewels.

 

Blue satin, misinterpreting why her partner had his hand high up on her backside, giggled and fled away. Red satin ran off after her friend, but not before the wily lad who had been holding her had given even her a hug, nicking her shimmering necklace off from around the high collar of her slick gown as she struggled free.

 

He came back triumphantly to collect his winnings. Though some argued that seeing her necklace had not been touching skin it was not a real contest. He got his winnings in the end and the group wandered off, the prized necklace being passed around with envy.

 

AJ stayed behind contemplating. he watched as the lads stopped by a table where a young girl sat alone. She was wearing a long bridesmaid's gown of silk dyed in several shades of teal and green. A single string of real pearls hung down from her bare neck. Expensively swinging down elegantly. He knew what the group of lads was discussing in their private huddle. AJ moved off not wishing to see anymore.

 

“Those poor girls, I am glad your character walked away from that instead of embarking on a life of crime, “ said “Nancy” to me.

 

“Yes indeed. “ I answered, looking at my pretty partner. Her shiny emerald green blouse was mesmerizingly beautiful, but not quite as mesmerizing as the hanging rhinestone diamond chain and pendent she still wore due to my hesitation overtaking it.

 

My fingers curled seeking opportunity, cursing that I may have missed it.

 

“Nancy, out of curiosity, if I’m not prying, you mentioned your brother would like my Raffles’s story?”

 

Oh! I could see I hit a pleasant nerve, as she smiled excitedly at me, her hand playing with her pendant as she spoke, a bit hoarsely I noticed.

 

“Yes he would, your Raffle story is similar to a game he likes playing.”

 

“Please tell me more, it sounds like you have fun playing it,” I said, with curious intentions.

 

She giggled. “Well, we play it in the woods. I wear a play dress and play jewelry. My brother plays a thief who tries to rob me of my jewels. Then if he does, he hides and I play the detective trying to find him. I know it sounds rather odd.”

 

That really opened my eyes, and thoughts started to race through my head.

 

“I took her hand. “No, not at all odd, sounds rather exciting.”

 

So they like to play games of jewels stolen. Right up my alley. I thought to myself while eyeballing her necklace.

 

“No,” I said to myself. Not the necklace. If anything the earrings.”

 

But I could not see how It could be done. So I chased the teasingly tempting thought out of my head.

 

A silence ensued for a minute, and as I watched,” Nancy” was looking over my shoulder up at the raised platform of the dance floor behind me, watching something.

 

I turned around, following her eyes.

 

A man with a green cummerbund was dancing with an attractive redhead.

 

She was wearing an elegant eye-catching blue taffeta gown with a scooped neckline, ruffled half sleeves, and knee-length skirt. She was wearing what was probably her best jewels, a sapphire and diamond jewelry set that sparkled deliciously under the ceiling lights of the great banquet hall. The necklace was especially pretty. A heavy gold v shape set with large pear-shaped sapphires interspersed with smaller round diamonds. She wore a deep blue mask that covered her eyes and nose.

 

I turned back, and Nancy” dropped her eyes back onto mine.

I asked thoughtfully…

“I see you are looking at that lady, pretty in blue, with the sparkly sapphire jewels”

 

She guiltily nodded yes,

“If you wait a bit, you will meet them. That’s my mum and father.

 

I complimented her…

“You both are very pretty, if I may be so bold?”

Taking up her hand and I kissed it…

 

“But now, I must be toddling off, taken up too much of your time I’m afraid .”

 

We both stood up to say goodbye.

 

Shen then. Quite cheerfully, held out her hands for a friendly hug.

 

I did so willingly and my fingers securely patted up along her back. it felt very nice and I became aware of a rather pleasant prickling sensation causing a rise in my feelings.

 

“Well “Nancy” I hope you liked my Raffles story.

  

“Nancy” nodded yes, then asked me

“Do you think Raffles regretted not playing the games those boys were up to?”

 

Holding her hand, I patted down along her sleeve reassuringly… as I said

 

“I think Raffles is the type never to regret anything, what do you think?”

 

“Nancy” nodded her head happily satisfied. Her dazzling earrings flickered quite beautifully.

 

I smiled at myself broadly.

 

“Here “Nancy” allow me to get you seated.”

 

She sat. And as I gripped my fingers supportively along her arms as I slid the chair forward.

 

I then again lifted and kissed her hand.

 

“Righto” I nodded and was off.

 

I headed back around to the bar, when whom did I spy? “Nancy’s” mother, standing alone by the bar. I saw some drunken sod bump hard against her from behind, almost causing her to lose balance.

 

A handsome red-headed man was turning away from the bar holding a brandy and she fell against him.

 

It was her husband. The man she has been dancing with.

 

Laughing, the pair moved off.

 

Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I followed them out to the outside balcony. There I took a seat at my table and kept watch.

 

I watched as from another table, where a 40ish lady wearing a wedding ring was sitting alone, rise and began walking towards me.

 

She was resplendent in a long black sleeveless plush velvet gown, wearing long black satin gloves. Her pearl jewelry shone like do many small bright moons. Earrings, triple strand necklace, and a very wide bracelet set with not only valuably real pearls, but expensively with purple amethyst stones also.

 

The bracelet fits snugly around her shiny gloved wrist. And anyone in my profession knows a snug bracelet is a far simpler item to remove than a loose-fitting one.

 

The purple satin half-face mask she wore added much to her winningly pretty look.

 

She gave me the eye as she walked past and I rose to follow.

 

We ended up dancing. Her name, real name(and that of her character from the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's) was Holly.

 

Holly, like “Nancy”, had never heard of the Raffles character either.

 

I left her after we had danced, holding her heart.

 

The hand which she placed had placed over her heart, no longer sporting her expensively wide pearl and amethyst bracelet.

 

£ 23000

 

She then suddenly had to go to the loo and darted off. I looked back at her table and saw a man in a tiger-striped mask was pulling out a chair to sit there.

 

I also figured it was time to scurry off. I had gotten me one more score.

  

I went down the steps leading off the raised dance floor, running right into “Nancy’s” mum swishing her way around at the bottom of the platform

 

“Seize the day-old chap”

 

My thoughts of leaving were put on hold as I looked her pretty, and expensively attired, figure over.

 

I held her up, saying I needed to apologize.

 

She looked into my face, her eyes twinkling like her daughters. Her sapphire and diamond jewellery also twinkling. But unlike her daughter’s, these she was wearing were very real.

 

“Apologize for what?” she asked in all innocence. I could also tell she was a bit tipsy from drink. Which considerably lowered her guard with me.

 

“ I saw that twit rudely bumping against you at the bar earlier, without apologizing. So I am for him.” I said with a neat little bow.

 

“Aren't you just a dear." she gushed, blushing. Just like her daughter, she had freckles also.

 

“Would you husband mind if I offered a dance as a consolation?” I asked with daring.

 

“Oh, I think a quick one would be ok,” she said smiling, accepting my offer.

 

I placed my arm around her glossy taffeta sleek waist and led her to the lower dance area.

 

It was a slow dance, and I took her into my arms with a delightfully delicious feeling of anticipation. Her sleekly taffeta-covered figure was a pleasure to warmly hold in my arms, and her twinkling jewels a pleasure to watch.

 

I, with real curiosity, asked who she was playing at this evening. She replied,” miss Moneypenny” then asked who I was.

 

Not wishing to jinx my good fortune, I lied. “ I am an undertaker, here to collect souls”

 

She laughed looking sassily into my eyes.

 

“Liar”

 

“Ok then, I'm really a bad cricket player.”

 

“Really, bad as in naughty?” she asked pleasantly vexed.

 

This one is fun, I thought to myself. I wondered mischievously if she was the catalyst if her children’s play game ideas had been inherited from her?

 

But I asked no questions along those lines. Instead, I decided to test the water with a story.

 

I then went into a similar story that I had told “Nancy” except to her mother I changed to arena from a wedding reception to a cricket match, and the group of lads was trying to steal kisses, not jewels, from their chosen victims.

 

My partner listened with a deep reflective interest.

 

So intent was she in my tale, that I was able to easily undo her necklaces ‘clasp and watch the shimmering beauty being slipped away by me from up her front, then around her throat, finally to be pulled out of sight behind her back. All skillfully done without the cheerfully happy lady feeling absolutely anything amiss.

 

Just like her daughter I thought. Innocent and as trusting as a lamb before being fleeced for the first time by a mock shepherd.

 

And reflectively, both had been dressed as soft as downy chicks when they had both caught the eye of the same wiley gilded feather plucking fox.

 

These were the thoughts in the back of my mind as I stowed my dance partner's glittering sapphire and diamond necklace away...

 

£6300

 

I finished my story just a few seconds after the music ended. We broke apart only once I had finished.

 

She hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek for being so nice

 

“Here is a stolen kiss,” she whispered

  

She then, (of course after nicking her necklace) mentioned that her husband was also a cricket player. With his bloody police station’s team!

 

I was stunned. Half wishing she had told me her husband was a “copper” before I had nicked her jewels.

 

Figuring I had now finally worn out my luck, and welcome, I made up an excuse of my own and watched as her shiny evening dress swished and swayed all along with her lovely figure while she made her way back towards the unseen table where I knew her pretty daughter was sitting.

 

“Bloody fool, I had taken the necklace off a copper’s wife...“

 

I murmured this, chastising myself, shaking my head at my folly as I stared off in disbelief.

 

Understandably I think, I then decided I should probably best be on my way home.

 

I had already planned my exit earlier, not knowing when I would be needing it.

 

Deciding to avoid at all costs leaving by the main doors by which I had come in, I had earlier discovered a small set of stone stairs that led off the balcony.

 

The stairs were narrow and hidden from the view of the balcony. A simple rope with an “Off Limits” sign guarded the entrance. They led down to the small patch of woods that lined the rose gardens.

 

On the far end of the woods was a small cemetery, next to which I had discreetly parked my 61 Lotus elite sports car.

 

I made my way to the balcony and looked around. There weren't that many guests left out there. A group of men smoking cigars and drinking brandy stood at one end. I could make out the rather stout form of “Nancy’s” father in with them. His back was to me.

 

In a corner sat Emma with her tablemates. The male was telling a very animated story.

 

A few other tables were occupied, about 1/3 of them. None near the hidden stairway.

 

I made my way there. Reaching it, I again surveyed the area. I could see the 3 people sitting at Emma’s we're laughing. Emma had a hand to her chest. Suddenly a look of alarm crossed her face as she felt around, obviously not finding her diamonds. Her friends were asking what was wrong. I saw her look back at the empty table where the gold masked bloke had sat, the one who had cut in on me as after her deserting Emma on the dance floor.

 

As I disappeared unseen from view I remember thinking I was glad that I had sowed that seed of thought to Emma while we had watched the couple leaving the ballroom.

 

€€€€€€€€€€€

 

I got to the bottom of the stairs and made my way to the wooded path the ran the length of the gardens.

 

Thinking I was alone, made me feel safe to quickly begin to stroll away along the path, throwing the caution I had had all evening to the wind.

 

Suddenly I froze in step.

 

I had caught the unmistakable sight of a lady's sparkly jewels as she was walking through the gardens to the left of my path.

 

I was not out here alone?

 

And I could not believe lady would not be out here alone either.

 

I snuck up, cloaked by the shadows of the trees, to get a better look

 

Shocked I saw it was “Nancy”, out of her, apparently alone.

 

I watched “Nancy” as she moved about. My mind traveled into the realms of speculation.

 

What if my young friend had indeed been wearing jewels worth £75,000?

 

And I find her like this, vulnerably alone.

 

Would I be tempted to break character, and ….

 

I shook my head. I would probably not. Especially now that I knew her father was a policeman of some sort.

 

But someone who did not know her father was a “copper”, and perhaps thought the diamonds she was were real… well they may not feel the same about letting her be.

 

Suddenly a rabbit jumped from the judge, startling both of us. I see her have a gasp, hand shooting up to her chest.

 

As her jewels flickered in a mad frenzy, a thought popped in my head, making me grin with expectations.

 

“Time to give “Nancy” a taste of my games. I thought wickedly. “

 

I snuck up behind her, and placing my hands over her eyes, pulled her soft figure back up against my own.

 

“ Hello, Samantha, fancy meeting you here.”

 

“Raffles!” She blurted with relief…

 

I pulled my hands away, allowing them the liberty to feel through her hair, examining also her earrings, feeling along the hinged clasps to get a feel for what I was about to do...

 

I then stepped back, as she, with a deep sigh of relief, quickly turned around.

  

“Not playing a game alone, are ye Lass?” I asked, looking down into her pretty green eyes.

 

“No.” She said shaking her head, hair flying…

 

I smiled, placing my hands inside my pockets, as I watched her with interest.

 

She giggled while trying to lecture me…” you gave me quite the start sir. “

He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it so I was looking up into his eyes.

 

“Stand still,” I commanded and moved around behind her.

 

“Good thing I didn’t do what first popped into my devious mind...

  

I felt his knuckle go into my back…

 

”Stick ‘ em up miss .”

 

“Good thing you didn’t I would have peed myself... I giggled.

  

“Raffles” chuckled:

“Stay in character miss .” Was what I heard from behind me

  

I raised them up, imagining like I was actually being held up. My heart began to race again with a feeling of delicious danger as I spoke.

 

“What do you want from me?”

  

Raffles, still holding his knuckle into my back …reached out his other hand with an open palm as he spoke.

 

”Put your hands down, I’ve taken a fancy to that bracelet of yours. So please hand it over. “

 

I shivered, saying smartly. “I don’t believe a real thief would say please …”

 

My friend “Raffles” responded.

 

“Would my real victim ask that? Try a different tack.”

 

Trembling again, with delicious delight. I played along.

 

“No sir, not my bracelet, anything but that …”

 

“That’s better, a bit of heartfelt pleading can never heart.

After a second the hand withdrew.

 

Raffles laughed amiably…

 

“Ok miss, keep your bracelet then. “

 

He chuckled from behind, removing his knuckle….

 

“It was only a thought I had when I saw you out here walking alone, remembering the story of the games you play with your brother, did I do ok?”.

 

“Smashing .” I giggled gleefully “Spot on.”

 

She put my hands down to my sides as I placed a hand on her smooth satin-covered shoulder and ran it down her satin blouse’s sleeve as I came back around to face her.

  

“All kidding aside, you really shouldn’t be out here alone “Nancy” someone less inviting as me may have been about. And I don’t mean your brother let’s see you back safe Lass.”

 

I nodded.

 

He lifted my hand and pulled my back to him. Coddling along against his warm figure, Raffles led me back along the path to the stairway.

 

“I’ll be leaving you here “Nancy” I was on my way home.

 

I looked up into his face. “it was fun meeting you, sorry you have to go. “

 

“So am I Lass.”

 

As I looked down in her upturned face I realized by the look in her eyes, that I had her lulled into such a state of complacency that I found myself unable to control any longer my thieving impulse.

 

Police parent or not, those earrings “Nancy” was wearing deserved to be plucked.

 

My fingers began to curl as I pulled her to me, with wicked intent…

 

We for the second time, hugged goodbye, a deeply fulfilling embrace it was by all standards, as well as presenting a perfect opportunity to set myself in position.

 

We broke apart and I tickled my fingers up her smooth satin-clad sides, then lifted her hair high up over her head.

 

I let her hair back down, letting its silken strands spill over my fingers fingers

 

She giggled as it tickled. My fingers reached her dangling, desirable earrings.

I spoke, my eyes locked in hers, my fingers ready…

 

“A Very pretty one you are, and don’t ever let anyone say differently.”

 

I felt her squirm with excitement, her chin up, looking deep within my eyes.

 

I took the opportunity given me to curl my fingers around her old-fashioned hinged clasped earrings. I gently applied pressure to the backside of the hinges and in unison slipped off both danglers from her earlobes. As her shivering figure greatly aided my endeavor.

 

I let my hands drop to my vest pocket as I watched her shoulder-length red hair fall back into place, covering my dirty deed.

 

£2200

 

I had been holding my breath. For this type of maneuver was as tricky as stealing the diamond collar from around the neck of a sleeping Persian cat without waking her. “Nancy”, relishing in my praise, never felt a prick as I had taken them from her ears.

 

Releasing my breath I took a step back complimenting that her hair was much prettier when down.

 

As she looked up at me with those doe wide adult-looking mascara brushed eyes, I felt a flicker of unease over filching her earrings.

 

She suddenly propelled herself again in my arms and gave me a very smothering, very long hug.

 

We broke apart.

 

“Go now, you before I change my mind about playing games.”

 

I let her go with a chuckle, holding my ground as I watched her pretty green satin party dress swishing merrily along with her figure.

 

She started up the stairs, then stopping raised up her hands.

 

I froze, then saw she was merely blowing me a kiss.

 

Pulling my hands from my vest pocket as I deposited her earrings, I pretended to catch her kiss and added it to my collection.

 

“My second this evening,” I said mysteriously…

 

Then turning away, I went off down along the path.

 

Quickly reaching my car, I opened a secret compartment inside the boot, emptied my pockets of the purloined jewels, and stashed them safely away.

 

Then hopping in on the right, I fired the engine to life and drove away in the opposite direction.

  

Addendum

 

Several weeks after securely hiding the over £188,000 in jewels I had gotten away with, I was flabbergasted to read in their local paper that the robbery was believed to have been committed by a gang of thieves. With none of the descriptions given really matched mine...

 

Probably not so shocking was the statement giving the total value of the stolen jewellery, as reported to the insurance agencies from the 0ver 30 females claiming to be victims, coming in to a bit over...

 

£325,000!

 

To Read the story from ‘Nancy Drew’s “ Perspective

Click Below

 

flic.kr/p/2mX6UD5

 

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we have left the hustle and bustle of London, travelling southwest to a stretch of windswept coastline just a short drive the pretty Cornish town of Penzance. Here, friends of Lettice, newlyweds Margot and Dickie Channon, have been gifted a Recency country “cottage residence” called ‘Chi an Treth’ (Cornish for ‘beach house’) as a wedding gift by the groom’s father, the Marquess of Taunton. Margot, encouraged by her father Lord de Virre who will foot the bill, has commissioned Lettice to redecorate a few of the principal rooms of ‘Chi an Treth’. In the lead up to the wedding, Lord de Virre has spent a great deal of money making the Regency house habitable after many years of sitting empty and bringing it up to the Twentieth Century standards his daughter expects, paying for electrification, replumbing, and a connection to the Penzance telephone exchange. Now, with their honeymoon over, Dickie and Margot have finally taken possession of their country house gift and have invited Lettice to come and spend a Friday to Monday with them so that she might view the rooms Margot wants redecorating for herself and perhaps start formulating some ideas as to how modernise their old fashioned décor. As Lettice is unable to drive and therefore does not own a car, Margot and Dickie have extended the weekend invitation to one of their other Embassy Club coterie, Lettice’s old childhood chum, Gerald, also a member of the aristocracy who has tried to gain some independence from his family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street. Gerald owns a Morris*, so he can motor both Lettice and himself down from London on Friday and back again on Monday. After the retirement of the housekeeper, Mrs. Trevethan, from the main house to the gatekeeper’s cottage the previous evening, the quartet of Bright Young Things** played a spirited game of sardines*** and in doing so, potentially solved the romantic mystery of ‘Chi an Treth’ after discovering a boxed up painting, long forgotten, of a great beauty.

 

Now we find ourselves in ‘Chi an Treth’s’ Regency breakfast room with views through the French doors, overlooking the wild coast on a remarkably sunny day for this time of year. Dickie, Margot and Gerald are all seated around the table in their pyjamas and robes enjoying breakfast, some with more gusto than others, as Lettice stumbles into the room and joins them at the table.

 

“All hail the discoverer of lost treasures and the solver of mysteries!” cries Dickie dramatically as he doffs an invisible hat towards his friend.

 

“Oh!” gasps Gerald, raising his right hand gingerly to his temple. “Must you be so loud Dickie? Is he always like this in the mornings, Margot darling?”

 

“He is, Gerald,” Margot sighs from her seat opposite him at the breakfast table as she takes a slice of thinly sliced toast and spreads marmalade across it with as little noise as possible.

 

“Morning Dickie!” Lettice returns Dickie’s welcome, walking up to him and placing a kiss firmly on the top of his head amidst his sleep tousled sandy hair. “Good morning, Margot. Good morning, Gerald.” Stumbling down the room and reaching her seat at the table opposite Dickie she picks up her glass tumbler and then turns to Gerald to adds. “It could be worse.”

 

“What could be?” Gerald asks, taking the pot from Margot’s outstretched hand and proceeding to plop a generous spoonful of marmalade on his own toast slices.

 

“Dickie’s frightfully jolly morning personality trait.” she replies, walking back the way she came to the sideboard, where she helps herself to orange juice. “His cousin, the Earl McCrea, plays the bagpipes every morning to wake the guests when he’s on his Scottish estate.”

 

“How frightful,” Gerald winces at the thought before continuing in a withering voice. “After a night of champagne like we had last night, that’s the last thing I should want.”

 

“Apparently the Prince of Wales quite likes it though**** when he visits.” Margot adds. “Coffee, Lettice darling?”

  

“Tea,” Lettice replies laconically before turning her attention to the lidded chaffing dishes on the sideboard. Lifting one, she quickly drops it when she sees and smells what lies beneath it with a loud clatter that elicits a groan from Gerald, Margot and herself.

 

“Mrs. Trevethan’s kedgeree,” Margot remarks without looking up as she pours tea from a silver teapot into Lettice’s teacup.

 

“Ugh,” mutters Lettice.

 

“It takes some getting used to.” adds Margot.

 

“Is an acquired taste, I’d say.” observes Gerald wryly, looking about the plates at the table. “Since no-one appears to be having any.”

 

“I think my stomach will settle for a boiled egg and an apple.” Lettice places her glass of orange juice gingerly on the tabletop and reaches across to grab an apple from the glass comport in the centre of the table. She then sits before reaching for an egg from the cruet proffered by Margot.

 

“Freshly boiled by Mrs. Trevethan.” Margot says with a smile.

 

“What’s taking that woman so long to bring me a bloody aspirin?” quips Gerald.

 

“God how much did we drink last night?” Lettice asks.

 

“Before, or after you found the Winterhalter*****?” Dickie asks.

 

“That explains why my head is fit for cracking, just like an egg, this morning then.” Lettice rubs her own temples and winces. “I think I could do with a couple of aspirin too.”

 

“Surely they have heard of aspirin down here.” Gerald grumbles, his train of thought about his own sore head undisturbed by the conversation around him.

 

“It is only Cornwall, Gerald darling,” Margot gives him an aghast look. “Not the middle of the Sahara Desert or the Antarctic, you know.”

 

“I might have more luck getting some aspirin in the Sahara.”

 

“Now Gerald, there’s no need to be cantankerous, just because your hangover is purportedly worse than ours.” Margot quips.

 

“Was Mrs. Trevethan cross with the mess, we,” Lettice pauses, blushes and corrects herself. “I… made last night in the storeroom?”

 

“Not at all, dear girl!” Dickie pipes up cheerily, deliberately hitting his own egg with gusto to break the shell, eliciting a scowl from Gerald which he returns with a teasing smile. “Margot and Gerald did a capital job of tidying most of the mess up, and I think the old dear is rather pleased to have people to look after again.”

 

“She can’t care that much about us if it takes this long to fetch me an aspirin.”

 

“Oh do shut up, Gerald old boy,” Dickie barks, surprising even himself at the sudden change to his usual affable self. Taking a few deep breaths, he looks across the coffee pot, teacups and marmalade pot to his friend and continues in laboured syllables. “Look, we all need the bloody aspirins this morning, and they will get here when Mrs. Trevethan gets them to us. Alright, old boy?”

 

Gerald shrinks back in his seat, whilst both Margot and Lettice smirk at one another.

 

“I do like your bed jacket, Lettice darling.” Margot remarks. “It suits you. Did Gerald make it for you?”

 

“This?” Lettice pulls on the burnt orange brocade of her jacket, making the marabou feather trim quiver prettily about her pale face. “No. I actually bought this at Marshall and Snelgrove’s****** because I saw it and I liked the colour.”

 

“And what shall we do today?” Dickie asks the table, casting Gerald a warning look that makes Gerald think twice about saying that his head feels too poorly to do anything.

 

“Well,” Lettice remarks, turning around in her seat to peer through the French doors across the lawn and the windswept tree line. “It’s a fine day today. It might be nice to take advantage of the good weather and go exploring down along the cove.” She turns back. “That’s if no-one else has any other more appealing ideas of course.”

 

Margot smiles and starts nodding. “That sounds splendid, Lettice darling! You could bring your paints with you. There’s a rather nice vista featuring an old lighthouse that I know you would enjoy painting.”

 

“Capital idea, old girl!” Dickie agrees. “The bracing sea breeze will be a perfect way to dust off the fuzzy heads from last night.”

 

Gerald quietly sinks further back in his seat but says nothing.

 

At that moment, the door to the breakfast room creaks open and Mrs. Trevethan shuffles in, wearing the same rather tatty apron over another old fashioned Edwardian print dress of a rather muddy brown colour, carrying a silver tray on which she has several tumblers and a small jar of aspirin. When her eyes fall upon Lettice, she smiles broadly. “Metten daa******* Miss Chetwynd.” she says, dropping a bob curtsey.

 

“Good morning Mrs Trevethan.” Lettice replies.

 

The old woman shuffles across the room and around the oval breakfast table where she removes a glass and the jar of tablets and deposits them in front of Gerald. “Your aspirins, sir.”

 

Dickie gives him a knowing smile, and Gerald mutters a thank you in reply.

 

“I am sorry about the mess we made last night, Mrs, Trevethan.” Lettice apologises to the old Cornish woman as she places a glass tumbler on the table before her, feeling the heat of a fresh blush rising up her throat and into her cheeks as she speaks. “It really was an accident.”

 

“Oh!” scoffs the woman with a dismissive wave of her hand as if shooing a sand fly away. “That’s quite alright. It’s nice to have young people, any people, about the house again after so long. You did make a fine mess, but you cleaned it up pretty well.”

 

“Oh, that was Margot and Gerald’s doing, not mine.” she looks sheepishly to her two friends at either side of her at the table as she sips her orange juice. “I was quite shaken by the whole incident.”

 

“Well, that was quite a pile of things you brought down,” Mrs. Trevethan laughs as she looks down upon the slight girl before her. “Especially for one your size! But look at what hidden treasure you uncovered with it!”

 

“That’s true, Lettice old girl!” Dickie remarks. “If it weren’t for you, that Winterhalter might have sat there another century, evading would-be treasure hunters.”

 

“If it’s a Winterhalter, Dickie,” tempers Lettice. “It may not be. It may not be her.”

 

“Who?” Gerald asks, perplexed, passing Lettice the aspirin bottle after taking out two tablets for himself. “Winterhalter was a man.”

 

“The captain’s lost love of course, Gerald!” scoffs Lettice. “Don’t be dim.”

 

“Sorry, it’s the hangover.”

 

“Oh that’s Miss Rosevear in the painting,” Mrs. Trevethan remarks. “There is no doubt of that.”

 

Lettice eyes the old Cornish woman up and down. Even with her weather-beaten face and white hair indicating that she is of an advanced age, a quick calculation in her still slightly muffled head suggests that she cannot be so old as to have known the lady when the portrait was painted.

 

Mrs. Trevethan starts laughing again as she observes the changes on Lettice’s face, betraying her thoughts. “No dear, I’m not that old, but I still knew Miss Rosevear when I was young, and she was older, and even then, she was still a beauty. It’s her face make no mistake.”

 

“Really Mrs. Trevethan?” Margot gasps, sitting forward in her chair, her half finished cup of coffee held aloft as she sits in the older woman’s thrall. “How?”

 

“What was she like?” Lettice adds excitedly.

 

“Is there truth to the legend?” Dickie asks.

 

“Well, Mrs. Channon, I was a maid for the Rosevears when I was a girl and first went into service.” The old woman’s eyes develop a far away sheen as she reminisces. “Mr. Rosevear had a beautiful old manor about half-way between here and Truro. Burnt down now of course, but you can still see the ruins from the train, if you know where to look. There’s even an old halt******** where the house used to be: Rosevear Halt. My first ride on a train was taken from Rosevear Halt up to London when I was taken with a few of the other maids to clean Mr. Rosevear’s rented London house for the Season.”

 

“And Miss Rosevear?” Lettice asks with trepidation, hoping to glean information about the mysterious beauty in the painting and from the legend.

 

“Oh, Miss Elowen was the youngest of the three Rosevear daughters. They were all beautiful, but she was the loveliest, in my opinion anyway. She could dance and play the spinet, and she had a voice that could have charmed the angels from the heavens.” A wistful look crosses her face. “And she was blithe, or had been before my time at the house, I was told by some of the other maids. Her elder sisters were far more serious than she: set upon always wearing the most fashionable clothing and focussing upon good marriages, whereas the youngest Miss Rosevear, she just took life as it came to her without complaint. Although, she always had an air of sadness about her when I knew her.”

 

“Without complaint? What happened to her, Mrs. Trevethan?” Dickie asks, swept up in the tale as much as his wife and Lettice. “Why didn’t she marry my ancestor of sorts, the captain?”

 

“I don’t rightly know, sir, why she didn’t marry him. As I said, this all happened before my time with the Rosevears, but there were others amongst the older household staff who were witness to what happened, so I have some inkling. I think Mr. Rosevear took against the captain because,” Mrs. Trevethan pauses, lowering her eyes as she speaks. “And you’ll pardon me for speaking out of turn, sir.”

 

“Yes,” replies Dickie. “Go on.”

 

“Well, I think he took against the captain because he wasn’t a legitimate son of the Marquis of Taunton. The Rosevears were an old family you see, and well respected in the district. It might not have looked proper for someone of her family’s standing to marry the illegitimate son of the Marquis, even if he was a naval hero and well set up by his father. However,” She pauses again. “I don’t think things would have gone so badly for him, if it wasn’t for the other two Miss Rosevears.”

 

“What do you mean, Mrs, Trevethan?” asks Margot.

 

“Well, I said that Miss Elowen was the prettiest of all three, and I stand by that. Even when she was in her forties when I first met her, she had a look that could stop idle chatter in a room. Her two sisters weren’t so fortunate, and their looks had begun to fade by the time she met the captain, may God rest his soul. Miss Doryty, the eldest was ten years her little sister’s senior, and for all her plotting and planning for a good marriage, a good marriage never found her, nor her sister, Miss Bersaba. Miss Doryty was her father’s favourite as to look at one, you would like to see the other in appearance and temperament. I think she took against the captain because her little sister was likely to marry before her two siblings and Miss Doryty wasn’t going to have that any more than Miss Bersaba was. Miss Doryty was the eldest and felt it her right to marry first, and Miss Bersaba wanted Miss Doryty married off so that then she could get wed herself. Even when I worked for the Rosevears, both ladies still talked about her would-be suitors up in London, yet not a one ever materialised, and I never knew of them ever going to London. Miss Doryty always was bitter, and a bully. I think she swayed her father’s opinion on the captain. I also know, because I heard her say it often enough within my earshot, that she was of the opinion that it was Miss Elowen’s responsibility as the youngest daughter to care for her father and unmarried sisters into their dotage, since their mother had been in the churchyard many a year already.”

 

“And did she?” Lettice asks sadly, her hand rising to her mouth in upset.

 

“Like I said, Miss Chetwynd, Miss Elowen took whatever life dealt her with forbearance. She never complained, even though her sisters obviously treated her in a lesser way than they should their own kin.”

 

“And, she never married?” asks Margot.

 

“None of the Miss Rosevears did, Mrs. Channon. They lived alone in the Big House. I was still in service there after Mr. Rosevear died. The ladies continued to do good deeds in the district, and they used the house for tombolas and fetes to raise money for the poor. Then I met and married Mr. Trevethan and I had to leave the Rosevears’ service. I heard from friends who stayed on after I’d gone, that the house slowly fell into disrepair, but I was in Penzance with my own family, so I never went back to see for myself.”

 

“And you say there was a fire at the house?” Dickie asks.

 

“There was, sir.”

 

“How did it start, do you know?” continues Dickie.

 

“I couldn’t say for certain sir, but I’d imagine it started from a fallen log. The Rosevears had ever so many fireplaces without fireguards. It's why I won’t have Mr. Trevethan light a fire in any of the fireplaces here that don’t have fireguards. All you need is for a smouldering log to fall on a carpet, and before you know it… whoosh!” The old woman gesticulates dramatically interpreting the way of wild flames.

 

“And did Miss Rosevear die in the fire?” Margot asks. “How thrilling if she did.”

 

“And you say I love dramatics,” Gerald grumbles, looking at Dickie.

 

“What a terrible thing to say, my love.” Dickie looks at his wife with horrified eyes.

 

“Oh yes, but wouldn’t it be terrifically romantic?” gushes Margot in reply.

 

“None of the Rosevears died it the fire, Mrs. Channon. In fact, no one died in it, thank God! But the family lost a great deal of standing with the loss of the Big House and all its contents, and the sisters moved to Truro and lived in much reduced circumstances, I’m told. And that’s where they died. I don’t know who died first, Miss Bersaba or Miss Doryty, but my friend who used to help char for them after they moved to Truro said that the two elder sisters health declined dramatically, and Miss Elowen fulfilled the destiny predicted by her eldest sister, and she spent her life looking after her sisters.”

 

“Do you know if, after her sisters died, whether Elowen ever saw the captain again, Mrs. Trevethan?” Lettice asks tentatively.

 

“I can’t say for certain, Miss Chetwynd,” the old woman replies. “But almost certainly no, to my knowledge. Taking care of her sisters, Miss Rosevear became something of a recluse in Truro, and after Miss Doryty and Miss Bersaba had joined their parents in the churchyard, it was too late for Miss Elowen. She was set in her ways and lived as she had for many a year prior, alone and hidden from the world. The captain too. Mr. Trevethan and I only served him for about five years before he died, and he never left the property once during that time. He barely left the house. And I’d lived in Penzance my whole married life and we all knew about the sea captain in the house on the hill by the cove, and I never once heard of him coming to town. So, miss, I’d say he was much the same, a recluse. And so ends my tale.”

 

“Well, “ Dickie announces, releasing a pent up breath he didn’t realise he had been holding on to. “Thank you so much for sharing it with us, Mrs. Trevethan. I shall know who to come to the next time I want to know anything about local history.”

 

“I should be getting back now, sir. I have to reorganise that storeroom, and then there’s lunch to prepare.”

 

“Oh, we’ve decided to go down to the cove today so Miss Chetwynd can paint the landscape.” Margot announces with a smile. “Could you pack us a picnic luncheon to take with us, rather than having us eat it here, Mrs. Trevethan?”

 

“Oh, pur dha********* Mrs. Channon.” replies Mrs. Trevethan before dropping a quick bob curtsey and shuffling out through the breakfast room door again.

 

“Well, what a tragic tale!” enthuses Margot, taking up a slice of marmalade covered toast and taking a bite.

 

“Not so much tragic as just sad, my love.” Dickie replies.

 

“I say again,” Gerald grumbles. “You say I’m the one who loves drama.”

 

“Well you do, Gerald,” Lettice chimes in, stirring extra sugar into her almost forgotten cup of tea. “And we love you for it.” She assures him. “But I happen to agree with Margot. It is a tragic tale, more so than just sad. Sad is too… too…”

 

“Insipid?” Gerald offers.

 

“Thank you, Gerald. Yes, too insipid a word for it. The loss of youth and true love makes this a tragic tale.”

 

Dickie chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, I wouldn’t doubt that there was a little bit of wax lyrical about Mrs. Trevethan’s version of the story, as it would be with any local legend. However, what I think is important about the story is that it tells us exactly who the lady is in the Winterhalter painting. It gives us provenance, which makes it all the more valuable.”

 

“If it’s a Winterhalter, Dickie!” Lettice reminds him again. “It may not be.”

 

“Well, whether it is or it isn’t,” Margot adds in. “All this talk won’t get us out into this unseasonable sunshine and down to the cove so Lettice can paint the lighthouse. Let’s finish up breakfast and get ready to go out.”

 

*Morris Motors Limited was a privately owned British motor vehicle manufacturing company established in 1919. With a reputation for producing high-quality cars and a policy of cutting prices, Morris's business continued to grow and increase its share of the British market. By 1926 its production represented forty-two per cent of British car manufacturing. Amongst their more popular range was the Morris Cowley which included a four-seat tourer which was first released in 1920.

 

**The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of Bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London.

 

***Sardines is an active game that is played like hide and go seek — only in reverse! One person hides, and everyone else searches for the hidden person. Whenever a person finds the hidden person, they quietly join them in their hiding spot. There is no winner of the game. The last person to join the sardines will be the hider in the next round. Sardines was a very popular game in the 1920s and 1930s played by houseguests in rambling old country houses where there were unusual, unknown and creative places to hide.

 

****As a youth the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VIII and then Duke of Windsor) became a proficient player of the highland bagpipe, being taught by William Ross and Henry Forsyth. He frequently, until his later years, played a tune round the table after dinner, sometimes wearing a white kilt. He was also known to wake the guests at his house on the Windsor Great Park, Fort Belvedere, with a rousing rendition of a tune on the bagpipes.

 

*****Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805 – 1873) was a German painter and lithographer, known for his flattering portraits of royalty and upper-class society in the mid-19th century. His name has become associated with fashionable court portraiture. Among his best known works are Empress Eugénie Surrounded by her Ladies in Waiting (1855) and the portraits he made of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (1865).

 

******Marshall & Snelgrove was an up-market department store on the north side of Oxford Street, London, on the corner with Vere Street founded by James Marshall. The company became part of the Debenhams group.

 

*******“Metten daa” is Cornish for “good morning”.

 

********A halt, in railway parlance in the Commonwealth of Nations and Ireland, is a small station, usually unstaffed or with very few staff, and with few or no facilities. A halt station is a type of stop where any train carrying a passenger is scheduled to stop for a given period of time. In Edwardian times it was not unusual for wealthy families with large houses close to the railway line to have their own halt stop for visiting guests or mail and other deliveries.

 

*********”Pur dha” is Cornish for “very good”.

 

Contrary to what your eyes might tell you, even though the food looks quite edible, this upper-class Regency country house domestic scene is actually made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures, some of which come from my own childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The Royal Doulton style tea set featuring roses on the breakfast table came from a miniature dollhouse specialist on E-Bay, whilst the silver teapot on the left hand size of the picture comes from Smallskale Miniatures in the United Kingdom, as does the jam pot to the right of the toast rack. The toast rack, egg cruet set, cruet set and coffee pot were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The eggs and the toast slices come from miniature dollhouse specialists on E-Bay. The apples in comport on the centre of the table are very realistic looking. Made of polymer clay are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany. The comport in which they stand is spun of real glass and was made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in England as is the glass of orange juice on the table, the jug of orange juice and the bunch of roses on the sideboard at the back of the photograph. The remaining empty glass tumblers are all hand made of spun glass and came from a high street dolls’ specialist when I was a teenager.

 

The Queen Anne dining table, chairs and Regency sideboard were all given to me as birthday and Christmas presents when I was a child.

 

The fireplace in the background of the photo comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom. The two candelabra on it were made by Warwick Miniatures, and the Georgian Revival clock on the mantlepiece is a 1:12 artisan miniature made by Hall’s Miniature Clocks, supplied through Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures in England. The vases came from a miniatures specialist on E-Bay.

 

All the paintings around the drawing room in their gilded or black frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States and Marie Makes Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

"Hallowe'en. Friendly fairy, witch, or fay, fulfill the wish you wish today. Ellen H. Clapsaddle."

 

Originally posted on Ipernity: Halloween–Friendly Fairy, Witch, or Fay, Fulfill the Wish You Wish Today.

Built to fulfill the requirements for "RRT Extraction unit - Iron Ore" in the ongoing DA4 game. The requirements for the build included both surface and subterranean features, including mechanisms for moving the ore at both levels. The large piece of mining machinery in the foreground with the rotary cutters is called a continuous miner. It is a beast of a machine, capable of stripping up to 20 tons per minute and depositing the ore onto a conveyor or subterranean train.

 

The requirements also called for a cemetery for the internment of fallen miners. On a personal note, that feature has special significance for me. Both of my grandfathers were coal miners and both died because of it - one in a mine collapse and the other due to black lung disease.

  

This rescue boat fulfills a range of duties in Corio Bay. As a large industrial port, cargo ships of many descriptions arrive from around the world.

 

* Looks like this is the latest in a number of runaway views that do not reflect the actual daily view count that our Flickr stats provide. If you have a photo or more (in my case now about 20) that have mysteriously high view numbers compared to surrounding photos then you have been hit by this bug which Flickr REFUSES to fix. There's a whole thread on this in the Help Forum. www.flickr.com/help/forum/en-us/72157721174058878/

 

In fact Flickr stats (a feature of paid Pro accounts) are now a work of pure fiction! Pull your finger out Flickr! This is a serious problem that has been going on since October. Some of us actually care about accurate numbers.

Day 60 (v 11.0) - succinctly

Fulfill yourself.

 

Shop | Facebook | Twitter | Blog

Fulfilled complete

Nature never errs

Contact point

 

This fulfilled a very long-sought goal of mine. There are perks to being a nightowl, to sitting up at 3am when you hear a constant rumble coming from outside, low but steady. And you wonder, what is that? Is that really thunder because it is happening way too frequently for thunder. But then you go outside and the first smell you get of the air confirms it even before you see the first flash of lightning. And then it is a matter of gauging whether the storm is passing where you want it to, and you decide it is, but it is well past bedtime... well, well past. Sleep is easy to find though and opportunities like this don't come often, you muse to yourself, thinking back on all the past years that have gone by and the lightning storms over the bridge that can be counted on one hand. The last good one to come around you remember was while you were in France. So shoes go on, cameras get grabbed and out into the storm you go drawn by something primal and raw.

Strong people of the best country in the world!

I want to begin this address with words of congratulations. On my own behalf and on your behalf, on behalf of all our citizens of Ukraine to the employees of the Security Service of Ukraine. Today is their day.

30 years ago, on March 25, the Security Service of our state was founded.

The Service has come a long way. And we all know that. But we also know that during the eight years of the war in Donbas and during the 30 days of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, many members of the Security Service have shown themselves from the best - heroic - side.

They have shown themselves principled, courageous and able to inflict losses on the enemy that the enemy does not expect. This is exactly what Ukraine needs now.

I am grateful to all our heroes from the Security Service of Ukraine. I am grateful to everyone in the Service who during 30 years of our common history broke the plans of enemies and worked in the interests of the Ukrainian people only.

Congratulations on the holiday! Respect to everyone!

And we will always remember all the employees of the Service who died for Ukraine while performing tasks to counter Russian aggression.

During this month of hostilities, 77 employees of the Security Service were awarded state awards. Two of them were posthumously awarded the title of Hero of Ukraine. Both distinguished themselves in the battles near Makariv, Kyiv region. Thanks to their courageous actions, the enemy headquarters and more than 20 occupiers were destroyed.

I can't tell you the names of our heroes. This is the specifics of the service. But I can say with confidence: the memory of them will truly be eternal!

Today I signed a decree on state awards to 63 law enforcement officers of Ukraine. Seven of them were awarded posthumously.

Police, rescuers, border guards, special service officials of the State Bureau of Investigation and employees of the Court Protection Service. Thank you to everyone!

Over the past week, our heroic Armed Forces have dealt powerful blows to the enemy, significant losses. They say that the Minister of Defense of Russia has disappeared somewhere… I wonder if he personally wanted to visit Chornobaivka?

I am grateful to our defenders who showed the occupiers that the sea will not be calm for them even when there is no storm. Because there will be fire. As on those Russian ships that departed this week on the famous route from the port of Berdyansk.

I want to warn all traitors of Ukraine who sided with the enemy in Crimea years ago. You switched sides because you thought you would live better, right? Not because you want to repeat the tragic fate of your colleagues who died on those ships or somewhere else on land or at sea in Ukraine. Well, live. Stay as far away from our cities and our army as possible.

The number of Russian casualties in this war has already exceeded 16,000 killed. Among them are senior commanders. There have not been reports about killed Russian colonels-general or admirals yet. But the commander of one of the occupying armies and deputy commander of the Black Sea Fleet are already there.

The Armed Forces continue to repel enemy attacks in the south of the country, in Donbas, in the Kharkiv direction and in the Kyiv region.

By restraining Russia's actions, our defenders are leading the Russian leadership to a simple and logical idea: talk is necessary. Meaningful. Urgent. Fair. For the sake of the result, not for the sake of the delay.

16,000 Russian servicemen have already died. For what? What does it give and to whom?

The conversation must be meaningful. Ukrainian sovereignty must be guaranteed. Ukraine's territorial integrity must be ensured. That is, the conditions must be fair. And the Ukrainian people will not accept others.

During the week we managed to establish 18 humanitarian corridors. A total of 37,606 people were rescued from the blocked cities.

In particular, 26,477 Mariupol residents were evacuated from Mariupol to Zaporizhzhia via the humanitarian corridor. The situation in the city remains absolutely tragic. The Russian military does not allow any humanitarian aid into the city. They only use Mariupol residents in fakes for their propagandists. Pretending to start giving something to people.

I will continue to inform the nations of other countries in great detail about such disgusting cynicism of the occupiers, about all the war crimes of Russia against the civilians of our heroic Mariupol and other cities of Ukraine. It is very important. I want to emphasize: not only politicians and government officials, but nations. Everyone on the planet needs to know what Russia is doing. So that the responsibility for crimes against the Ukrainian people becomes inevitable and as severe as possible for the Russian military.

During the week alone, I addressed the parliaments of Italy, Japan, France and Sweden. I spoke at the summits of NATO, the G7 and the leaders of the European Union.

Each of these speeches attracted maximum attention in the respective countries and in the world as a whole. The reviews show that the Ukrainian position was heard. And this is my main goal in such speeches.

You know perfectly well what a powerful system of state propaganda Russia has built. They have spent and are spending tens of billions of dollars on it. Probably no one in the world has ever spent such crazy money on lies. But they did not take into account one thing. Where the path of lies needs to be paved with money and the result is not guaranteed, the path of truth is difficult, but the path of truth paves itself. The main thing is to be honest.

Next week I will continue this important work for our interests. Interests of Ukraine. Interests of freedom and independence.

I had a conversation today with Turkish President Erdoğan. The results of the NATO summit were discussed. Of course, we also talked about the efforts that could bring peace closer to Ukraine and end this senseless Russian invasion of a foreign land.

There is important news from our government officials.

First. They have already started paying pensions for April. In particular, the Pension Fund has transferred to Oschadbank the entire amount of pensions for the Chernihiv and Luhansk regions. Tomorrow people will have money on their bank cards and Ukrposhta will deliver cash.

Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, the payment of April pensions will continue in other regions of Eastern and Central Ukraine. The other day a wave of payments will cover the entire state.

This is one of our priorities: the Ukrainian state has fulfilled and will fulfill all obligations to our citizens, to our pensioners.

Second. Under the eSupport program, more than 20 billion hryvnias have already been paid to people who have lost their jobs or the opportunity to have business. The amount of payment is 6,500 hryvnias.

Third. Officials are preparing a new support program for our IDPs from the war zones.

Regional administrations have been given a clear task to quickly allocate land for the construction of temporary housing for displaced persons. I want to emphasize once again - this is temporary housing. Once we establish peace, we will begin the immediate, large-scale reconstruction of our state. But now people need a temporary home. Their home.

And it is better to have a home in Ukraine than somewhere abroad. We pay aid, we give a job. Native people. Native country. All the details of this support program will be presented by Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal.

And a few more words about the path of truth. About those who bring you and us true information about everything that is happening in our country.

I would like to express special gratitude to our journalists today. To all those who ensure the work of the national telethon "United News", to all our media people. Correspondents, presenters, editors, media managers, cameramen, directors, video editors, make-up artists, producers - everyone without whom it is impossible to imagine television. Everyone who united and together with other defenders of our people provides Ukrainians with truthful information and, last but not least, confidence 24/7.

I am grateful to all of you! And, I'm sure, I can say this on behalf of all Ukrainians.

Glory to you all!

Glory to all our heroes!

Glory to Ukraine!

We hiked and found the Waldrip Cabin today to fulfill the 5/6th graders' "Social History" credit as they are finishing up the requirements to gain their badges as Indiana Junior Master Naturalists. This was one of our last field trips and one of the best.

 

As we were wandering around the outside of this 100+ year-old structure, we scared a giant black vulture out of its nest in the loft. It perched itself in the oak trees above us and didn't want to leave. It was, by far, the largest (and meanest) vulture I have ever seen.

 

The entire area, which is now dense woodland on the edge of a giant reservoir (a.k.a. Lake Monroe), was once a poor but functioning family farm full of children and chickens and hogs and fields and orchards. We were led along and told stories by a wonderful, sweet lady who worked with the Department of Natural Resources. She had explored the area and its history extensively, even interviewed the children who had once lived on the farm. As we were leaving, and even as Matt and I were discussing coming back another day (There IS a geocache ...), she asked us not to come back to the cabin if we could help ourselves at all. She said the DNR would actually like to detour people from finding the cabin and have tagged it an official "Attractive Nuisance," i.e., so lovely to explore but so stupidly dangerous.

 

I was reminded of the old Pike County fire tower of my childhood as it stands tall, missing most of its steps, and surrounded by ten-foot fencing and barbed wire, surely with the same official tag stamped on its paperwork.

 

She also said they will likely collapse the cabin soon so that it might still represent the history and place albeit no longer standing. The whole thing barely stands as is; it's incredible that it stands at all. Its tin roof is oddly in tact somehow supporting the weight of whole, fallen trees. There is even an old cellar right beside it, made of stacked limestone, ten feet deep and nearly full of rain water. And - YES - the cabin DOES beg you come inside. Even the black vulture seems to whisper a dare: "Try it." The stairs are still there. I feel I NEED to return to this place before the cabin falls ... I have to.

 

Attractive Nuisance, indeed. Might we all be so lucky as to obtain such a glorious label of distinction before we collapse.

Had quite a fulfilling day today. Managed to get several tasks done for the house & garden which is awesome! I usually dread doing these sort of things which is why I'm glad I've get them over and done with. I'm pretty stuffed now from all the garden chores. Anyway hope you will also have a fulfilling Sunday like me :D

 

----------------------------------------

 

About

 

Chiesa Nuova or Santa Maria in Vallicella in Rome, Italy

 

The Shot

 

3 exposure shots (+2..0..-2 EV) in RAW taken handheld

 

Camera :: Canon 5D Mark II

Lens :: Canon 15mm F/2.8 Fisheye

 

Photomatix

 

- Tonemapped generated HDR using detail enhancer option

 

Photoshop

 

- Added 3 layer mask effect of 'curves' for selective contrast

- Added 1 layer mask effect of 'saturation' (yellows) to slightly enhance the ceiling

- Added 1 layer mask effect of 'saturation' (reds & yellows) to slightly tone down the wall & pillars

- Added 1 layer mask effect of 'saturation' (blues) to darken the paintings on the wall

- Added 1 layer mask effect of 'saturation' (cyans) to tone down the windows

 

----------------------------------------

💜

title.

Red. green. gold. Three colors fulfill one dream.

:)

                         

( iPhone 11 Pro . shot)

      

Denny's. Tomisato City. Chiba Prefecture. Japan. December. 2019.shot ... 1 / 2

(Picture of the day. It is unpublished.)

        

Images.

I'm Not In Love…. The Dove & The Wolf ft. Butch Walker

youtu.be/nxoWa3NMKKA

       

The image of the next novel.

Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable'2)

(It will never go away)

            

_________________________________

_________________________________

Profile.

In November 2014, we caught the attention of the party selected to undertake the publicity for a mobile phone that changed the face of the world with just a single model, and will conclude a confidentiality agreement with them.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/02/2019-profil...

 

youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

   

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

Interviews and novels.

About my book.

  

I published a book in old days.

At that time, I was uploading my interview on the net on the net.

That Japanese and English.

 

I will make it public for free.

Details were explained to the Amazon site.

 

How to write a novel.

How to take pictures.

Distance to the work.

 

They all have a common item.

I made a sentence about what I felt, and left it.

I hope that my text can be read by many people.

Thank you.

 

Mitsushiro.

  

1 Interview in English

「interview_eng.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

2 novels. unforgettable 'English version.(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

「novel_unforgettable_eng.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

3 Interview Japanese version

drive.google.com/file/d/1w5l2hrV5a6lraDiC_Lz2tG_HqatqUCO5...

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

4 novels. unforgettable ' JPN version.

「novel_unforgettable_jpn.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

5 A streamlined trajectory. only Japanese.

「streamlined_trajectory.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

iBooks. Electronic Publishing. It is free now.

 

0.about the iBooks.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2017/03/about-digit...

 

1.unforgettable '(ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...

  

2.unforgettable '(JNP.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...

 

3. Streamlined trajectory.(For Japanese only.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8... =11

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

My Novel >> Unforgettable'

 

(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

  

Synopsis.

 

Kei Kitami who aims at university.

A 6 year old older event companion woman. Meet Kaori Uemura on SNS.

 

The dream of Kaori who has moved to Tokyo.

It is to be a friend of the artist.

 

The producer of the radio station for that. The existence of Ryo Osawa was necessary.

Live on the radio.Osawa talks to Kaori.

 

"I have a wife and a child, but I want to see you."

Kei’s classmate Rika Sanzyou who is thinking of him.

She was searching for Kaori.

 

※ Supplement

I use Google Translate.

  

Mitsushiro Nakagawa

All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .

www.fotolog.net/yuming/

  

images.

U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

  

Main story

 

There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.

One, to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.

The other, to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days, staring at the shine

quietly.

Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.

I face myself to change tomorrow, a vague day into something certain.

That is the meaning of a rebirth.

I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.

After she left, I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After

she left, how many times did I depend too much on her, doubt her, envy her and keep on telling lies

until I realized it is love?

I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the

daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.

I had been thinking about such a thing.

However, I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see

something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me, a guy filled with ambiguous, unstable

tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.

Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.

  

1/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...

2/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...

3/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...

4/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...

5/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...

6/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...

7/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...

8/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...

9/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...

  

Fin.

  

images.

  

U2 - No Line On The Horizon

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Title of my book > unforgettable'

Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa

Out Now.

ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

in Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/Unforgettable’-Mitsushiro-Nakagawa/dp/...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

The schedule of the next novel.

Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable '2)

(It will not go away forever)

Please give me some more time. That is Japanese.

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

2020 exhibition.

 

theme.

So Near, So far.

 

place. Tokyo Big Site.

www.bigsight.jp/

 

Sponsoring. Design festa.

designfesta.com/

  

2021.

Date unknown.

  

DIC Kawamura Memorial Art Museum attached gallery.

kawamura-museum.dic.co.jp/

 

place. Sakura City, Chiba Prefecture.

 

theme.

From that day, forever ...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

My Works.

 

1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...

2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...

3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Do you want to hear my voice?

:)

 

I updated Youtube.

It is only in Japanese.

I explained comments on photos etc.

If your time is permitted, please look.

:)

 

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

1

About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. First type.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

2

About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. Second type.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=443

 

3

About when I started Fotolog. Architect 's point of view.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=649

 

4

Why did not you have a camera so far?

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=708

 

5

What is the coolest thing? The photo is as it is.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=776

 

6

About the current YouTube bar. I also want to tell, I want to leave.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=964

 

7

About Japanese photographers. Japanese YouTube bar is Pistols.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1059

 

8

The composition of the photograph is sensibility. Meet the designers in Milan. Two questions.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1242

 

9

What is a good composition? What is a bad composition?

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1482

 

10

What is the time to point the camera? It is slow if you are looking into the viewfinder or display.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1662

 

11

Family photos. I can not take pictures with others. The inside of the subject.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1745

 

12

About YouTube 's photographer. Camera technology etc. Sensibility is polished by reading books.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2144

 

13

About the Japanese newspaper. A picture of a good newspaper is Reuters. If you continue to look at useless photographs, it will be useless.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2305

 

14

About Japanese photographers. About the exhibition.

Summary. I wrote a novel etc. What I want to tell the most.

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2579

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

I talked about how to make a work.

It's really long, but I want to leave everything, so please ask. (^ O ^) /

 

Japanese only.

  

About work production 1/2

youtu.be/ZFjqUJn74kM

  

About work production 2/2

youtu.be/pZIbXmnXuCw

 

1 Photo exhibition up to that point. Did you want to go?

 

2 Well, what is an exhibition that you want to visit even if you go there?

 

3 Challenge to exhibit one work every month before opening a solo exhibition at the Harajuku Design Festa.

 

4 works are materials and silhouettes. Similar to fashion.

 

5 Who is your favorite artist? What is it? Make it clear.

 

6 Creating a collage is exactly the same as taking photos. As I wrote in the interview, it is the same as writing a novel.

 

7 I want to show it to someone, but I do not make a piece to show it. Aim for the work you want to decorate your own room as in the photo.

 

8 What is copycat? Nowadays, it is suspected to be beaten. There is something called Mimesis?

 

ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimesis

kotobank.jp/word/Mimesis-139464

 

9 What is Individuality? What is originality?

   

It is a flow of.

 

If you have time, please listen.

:)

 

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

Explanation of composition. 2

   

I used the following cameras.

  

Nikon coolpix 8700

  

I defeated two of these cameras.

It was a very nice camera.

I took many photos with this camera.

  

Today's photo.

It was also taken with this camera.

 

I explained the composition in detail in the text at the time of shooting.

 

I have taken a lot of pictures until today.

Among them, this photo is the result of sharpening my sensitivity.

 

I will explain this composition in a video.

But they are all Japanese.

  

Is there a Japanese beside you?

Is there anyone who can understand Japanese beside you?

  

Please have them translate.

  

I leave an important story about composition.

I hope they will reach many people.

    

October 22, 2019, midnight.

Mitsushiro.

   

1.Composition explanation 2 ... 1/4

youtu.be/yVbvneBIMs8

 

2.Composition explanation 2 ... 2/4

youtu.be/LToFez9vOAw

 

3.Composition Explanation 2 ... 3/4

youtu.be/uTR0wVi9Z7M

 

4.Composition Explanation 2 ... 4/4

youtu.be/h2LjfU6Vvno

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

My shutter feeling.

  

youtu.be/3JkbGiFLjAM

 

Today's photo.

It is a photo taken from Eurostar.

 

This video is an explanation.

 

I went to Milan in 2005.

At that time, I went from Milan to Venice.

We took Eurostar into the transportation.

 

This photo was not taken from a very fast Eurostar.

When I changed the track, I took a picture at the moment I slowed down.

  

Is there a Japanese beside you?

Please have my video translated.

:)

  

Mitsushiro.

 

( Nikon Coolpix 8700. shot)

  

In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/05/post-70842e...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

flickr.

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

instagram.

www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Pinterest.

www.pinterest.jp/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouPic

youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

twitter.

twitter.com/mitsushiro

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

facebook.

www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

My statistics. (As of May 16, 2019)

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/05/post-199d28...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Japanese is the following.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/

 

Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

#Nakagawa #artist #NY #Interview #Photograph #picture #How #take #write #novel #display #art #future #designfesta #Kawamura #Memorial #DIC #Museum #Fineart #新宿 #Manhattan #USA #London #UK #Paris #アンチノック #Milan #Italy #LUMIX #G3 #FUJIFILM #MothinLilac #川村記念美術館 #GFX50R #Kawamura #Museum #Chiba #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #gallery #Camera #collage #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro

 

For insta

#マンハッタン #Manhattan #London #Paris #ニューヨーク #Milan #MothinLilac #LUMIX #kawamura #FUJIFILM #GFX50R #Museum #Fineart #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #Camera #川村記念美術館 #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #artist #Photograph #picture #novel #Fineart #future #designfesta

 

For twitter

#NY #London #Paris #Milan #Museum #FUJIFILM #写真 #Kawamura #Exhibition #Flickr #Camera #street #川村記念美術館 #MothinLilac #Mitsushiro #artist #ニューヨーク #designfesta #Fineart

 

#ミラノ #イタリア #カメラ #写真 #構図 #ニコン #Nikon #coolpix #クールピクス #ベニス #ユーロスター #Eurostar #シャッター #shutter #camera #photo #picture #千葉 #日本 #chiba #Japan

       

タイトル。

レッド。グリーン。ゴールド。みっつの色は、ひとつの夢を叶えます。

:)

                      

( iPhone 11 Pro . shot)

           

デニーズ。富里市。千葉県。日本。 12月。2019. shot ... 　　1 / 2

(今日の写真。それは未発表です。)

        

Images.

I'm Not In Love…. The Dove & The Wolf ft. Butch Walker

youtu.be/nxoWa3NMKKA

              

次の小説のイメージ。

Still would stand all time.(unforgettable'2)

（いつまでもなくならないだろう）

          

_________________________________

_________________________________

プロフィール。

2014年11月、たった1機種で世界を塗り替えた携帯電話の広告を請け負った選考者の目に留まり、秘密保持同意書を結ぶ。

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/02/2019-profil...

 

youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

インタビューと小説。

僕の本について。

 

僕は、昔に本を出版しました。

その際に、僕のインタビューをPDFでネット上へアップロードしていました。

その日本語と英語。

 

僕は、無料でを公開します。

詳細は、アマゾンのサイトへ解説しました。

 

小説の書き方。

写真の撮影方法。

作品への距離感。

 

これらはすべて共通項があります。

僕は、僕が感じたことを文章にして、残しました。

 

僕のテキストが多くの人に読んでもらえることを望みます。

ありがとう。

 

Mitsushiro.

  

１　インタビュー　英語版

「interview_eng.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

２　小説。unforgettable’ 英語版。

「novel_unforgettable_eng.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

３　インタビュー　日本語版

drive.google.com/file/d/1w5l2hrV5a6lraDiC_Lz2tG_HqatqUCO5...

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

４　小説。unforgettable’ 日本語版。(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)

(四百字詰め原稿用紙４５６枚)

 

　あらすじ

　大学を目指している北見ケイは、SNS上で、6歳年上のイベントコンパニオン、上村香織に出会う。

　上京してきた香織の夢は、有名なアーティストの友達になるためだ。

　そのためにはラジオ局のプロデューサー、大沢亮の存在が必要だった。

　大沢は、ラジオの生放送中、香織へ語りかける。

　「僕には妻子がある。しかし、僕は君に会いたいと思っている」

　ケイの同級生で、彼を想っている三條里香は、香織の動向を探っていた。。。。。

  

本編

 

人が海へ向かう理由には、二つある。

　ひとつは、波打ち際ではしゃぐ子供のように、今の瞬間の海の輝きを楽しむこと。

　もうひとつは、その輝きを静かに見据えて、過ぎ去った日々を懐かしむ老人のように記憶の埃を払うこと。

　二つは重なり合わないようではあるけれども、たったひとつの意味しか生まない。

　再生だ。

　明日っていう、曖昧な日を確実なものへと変えてゆくために、自分の存在に向き合う。

　それが再生の意味だ。

 

　十八歳だった僕には大切な人がいた。

 

「novel_unforgettable_jpn.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

５　流線形の軌跡。　日本語のみ。

「streamlined_trajectory.pdf」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2018/08/interviews-...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

iBooks.電子出版。（現在は無料）

 

0.about the iBooks.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2017/03/about-digit...

 

1.unforgettable’ ( ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...

For Japanese only.

  

2.unforgettable’ ( JNP.ver.)(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)

itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...

 

3.流線形の軌跡。

itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の小説。英語版　

My Novel Unforgettable' (This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)

 

Mitsushiro Nakagawa

All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .

www.fotolog.net/yuming/

   

1/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...

2/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...

3/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...

4/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...

5/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...

6/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...

7/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...

8/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...

9/9

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...

Fin.

  

images.

U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Title of my book > unforgettable'

Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa

Out Now.

 

ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

in Amazon.

www.amazon.co.jp/Unforgettable’-Mitsushiro-Nakagawa/dp/...

_________________________________

_________________________________

次の小説の予定。

Still would stand all time.(unforgettable'2)

（いつまでもなくならないだろう）

もう少し時間をください。それは日本語です。

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

２０２０年の展示。

 

テーマ。

So Near , So far.

 

場所。東京ビッグサイト。

www.bigsight.jp/

 

Sponsoring. Design festa.

designfesta.com/

    

２０２１年。

日時未定。

DIC川村記念美術館付属ギャラリー。

kawamura-museum.dic.co.jp/

場所。千葉県佐倉市。

テーマ。

あの日から、ずっと…

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の作品。

 

1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...

2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...

3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

あなたは僕の声を聞きたいですか？

:)

 

僕はYoutubeを更新しました。

日本語だけです。

僕は写真などの解説をしました。

もしも、あなたの時間が許されれば、見てください。

:)

 

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

  

1

フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。１種類目。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw

 

2

フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。２種類目。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=443

 

3

Fotologを始めた時について。 建築家の視点。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=649

 

4

なぜ、今までカメラを手にしなかったのか？

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=708

 

5

何が一番かっこいいのか？　写真はありのままに。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=776

 

6

現在のユーチューバーについて。僕も伝え、残したい。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=964

 

7

日本人の写真家について。日本のユーチューバーはピストルズ。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1059

 

8

写真の構図は、感性。ミラノのデザイナーに会って。二つの質問。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1242

 

9

良い構図とは？　悪い構図とは？

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1482

 

10

カメラを向ける時とは？　ファインダーやディスプレイを覗いていては遅い。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1662

 

11

家族写真。他人では撮れない。被写体の内面。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=1745

 

12

ユーチューブの写真家について。カメラの技術等。感性は、本を読むことで磨く。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2144

 

13

日本の新聞について。良い新聞の写真はロイター。ダメな写真を見続けるとダメになる。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2305

 

14

日本の写真家について。その展示について。

まとめ。僕が書いた小説など。僕が最も伝えたいこと。

youtu.be/b1o6Xf-Mjhw?t=2579

  

作品の制作方法などついて語りました。

すっごい長いですが、すべて伝え残したいことなので聞いてください。(^O^)／

日本語のみです。

  

作品制作について 1/2

youtu.be/ZFjqUJn74kM

 

作品制作について 2/2

youtu.be/pZIbXmnXuCw

  

１　それまでの写真展。自分は行きたいと思ったか？

 

２　じゃ、自分が足を運んででも行きたい展示とは何か？

 

３　原宿デザインフェスタで個展を開くまでに、毎月ひとつの作品を展示することにチャレンジ。

 

４　作品とは、素材とシルエット。ファッションと似ている。

 

５　自分が好きなアーティストは誰か？　どんなものなのか？　そこをはっきりさせる。

 

６　コラージュの作成も写真の撮り方と全く同じ。インタビューに書いたように小説の書き方とも同じ。

 

７　誰かに見せたい、見せるがために作品は作らない。写真と同じように自分の部屋に飾りたい作品を目指す。

 

８　パクリとは何か？　昨今、叩かれるパクリ疑惑。ミメーシスとは？

 

　　https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ミメーシス

　　https://kotobank.jp/word/ミメーシス-139464

  

９　個性とはなにか？　オリジナリティってなに？

 

おまけ　眞子さまについて

 

という流れです。

お時間がある方は是非聴いてください。

:)

 

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

  

構図の解説２

   

僕は以下のカメラを使用していました。

 

Nikon coolpix 8700

 

僕はこのカメラを二台使い倒しました。

とても素敵なカメラでした。

このカメラでたくさんの写真を撮りました。

 

今日の写真。

それもこのカメラで撮影しました。

  

この構図について、僕は撮影した当時詳しくテキストで解説しました。

 

僕は今日までたくさんの写真を撮ってきました。

その中でも、この写真はもっとも僕の感性を研ぎ澄ました結果です。

 

僕はこの構図について、動画で解説します。

しかし、それらはすべて日本語です。

 

あなたのそばに日本人はいますか？

あなたのそばに日本語がわかる人はいますか？

 

彼らに訳してもらってください。

 

僕は、構図について大切な話を残します。

それらが多くの人へ伝わることを望みます。

  

2019年10月２２日深夜。

Mitsushiro.

     

1.構図の解説２ ... 1/4

youtu.be/yVbvneBIMs8

 

2.構図の解説２ ... 2/4

youtu.be/LToFez9vOAw

 

3.構図の解説２ ... 3/4

youtu.be/uTR0wVi9Z7M

 

4.構図の解説２ ... 4/4

youtu.be/h2LjfU6Vvno

    

Nikon Coolpix 8700

 

１　アマゾンの評価

www.amazon.co.jp/ニコン-E8700-J-ニコン-デジタル...

 

２　ニコンの情報

www.nikon-image.com/products/compact/lineup/8700/

  

#写真 #構図 #カメラ #イタリア #ミラノ #中央駅 #２００５年 #ニコン #クールピクス８７００

#Photo #Composition #Camera #Italy #Milan #Central #Station #2005 #Nikon #Coolpix 8700

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕のシャッター感覚

 

youtu.be/3JkbGiFLjAM

  

今日の写真。

それは、ユーロスターから撮影した写真です。

 

この動画はその解説です。

 

２００５年にミラノへ行きました。

そのとき、ミラノからヴェニスへ向かいました。

交通手段に、僕らはユーロスターを乗り込みました。

 

この写真は、猛スピードのユーロスターから撮影したのではありません。

線路を変更した際、スピードを落とした瞬間に撮影しました。

  

あなたのそばに日本人はいますか？

僕の動画を翻訳してもらってください。

:)

  

Mitsushiro.

  

( Nikon Coolpix 8700. shot)

     

In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2

  

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...

  

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/05/post-70842e...

 

_________________________________

_________________________________

flickr.

www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouTube.

www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

instagram.

www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Pinterest.

www.pinterest.jp/mitsushiro/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

YouPic

youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

fotolog

www.fotolog.com/stealaway/

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

twitter.

twitter.com/mitsushiro

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

facebook.

www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

僕の統計。（2019年5月16日現在）

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/05/post-199d28...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

「日本の経営者は奇跡的無能」

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/stealaway/2019/06/post-926bf5...

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

Japanese is the following.

stealaway.cocolog-nifty.com/

 

Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2

_________________________________

_________________________________

 

#Milan #Italy #LUMIX #G3 #FUJIFILM #MothinLilac #MIL #GFX50R #B&W #Mono #Chiba #Japan #Exhibition #Flickr #YOUPIC #gallery #Camera #collage #Subway #street #Novel #Publishing #Mitsushiro #Nakagawa #artist #NY #Interview #Photograph #picture #How #take #write #novel #display #art #future #designfesta #Kawamura #Memorial #DIC #Museum #Fineart #川村記念美術館 #Manhattan #USA #London #UK #Paris #Kawamura

 

For insta

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E

   

Well, I did it.

 

I finally fulfilled a life long goal of overcoming my tremendous fear of heights and I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.

 

The story goes...when I was in my early twenties I set two goals for myself that I had to complete by 40 -- one of them being skydiving as an attempt to give the finger to my terrible fear of height places. The kind of fear that nearly makes you WANT to fall when you find yourself at high location. Like, some invisible force whispering "do it, you know you want too" in your brain as your knees grow weak and a dizzy haze comes over you.

 

Well I did it...TWO fingers to fear!!

 

So to recap:

 

- 15 minute flight to 15,000 feet elevation...nervous

- Door opens, time to jump, nerve-wracking!

- Sitting on the edge of the plane waiting for the jump window...nauseous

- First five seconds after jump and tumbles..."I'm falling, oh shit!"

- 6th,7th, 8th second...we stablize, arms out...falling sensation gone

- 9th second...OMG this is fun...and REALLY LOUD!!

- 1 minute later, shoot opens...small jolt...silence. Peace.

- 4-5 minute float to a landing in a grassy field...unreal

- Desire to do this again...HU-FRIGGIN-MUNGOUS!

 

If you've done this before and beat me too it, we'll please welcome me to the club. If you've NOT ever done this...do it. You'll thank me. It's the rush of a lifetime!

 

(Photo Credit: Some totally crazy-cool dude who jumped with us!)

Hobbs dress, tried on in Hobbs.

En Colombia ya estamos haciendo el cambio. Súbete tu también a la bici y has realidad tus sueños.

You know what, Johnny. I bet when mum sees how cute you look as a girl, she'll start letting you wear dresses whenever you want to. Wouldn't that be great!

 

All that Johnny wanted for his birthday was to be able to spend the whole day in panties and a dress, and so with his big sister's help, that's exactly what he got to do.

 

Makeup and styling by Kelayla.

 

IMG_7219

8 Aug 18

A usually dry riverbed the Queen Creek River flows after the rain. 2019-02-08 MAR_8732 BTA

He fulfilled his desire of sitting on the teacher's chair. He was afraid to do it while we were still students.

 

This portrait is part of 'The Cianalas Series' in which I shoot portraits of friends at the schools/colleges I studied in.

 

This was shot in what was Class 10 classroom at our high school.

A black and white treatment of a White River scene.

Day 47

"Dear Diary"

 

It's been a busy week, I have been a bad robot and sorry for that. I learned new things and very grateful for all the wonderful memories added. Some have gone while others come along. Life still go on and pray that everyday I will have the courage to fulfill my reason in my own existence. - Wall-E

 

www.facebook.com/pages/Pol-Tadifa-Photography/42366647103...

The land of dreams

is fulfilled in the watery realm of a beach,

and a sunset,

and sand soft like velvet...

 

Listening to the sound of

shy, unambitious waves

and cheerful sea birds...

there's a Universe of peace

and tranquility.

 

Exif: ISO 100 ; f/20 ; 1 sec ; @18mm

Reverse ND Grad 0.9

Text by me.

Man in South Tyrol

A friend on the mountain asked if I caught Tuesday’s sunrise. I couldn’t remember so I checked my Flickr timeline and noticed I had failed to fulfill my end of the bargain. Here’s the sunrise. I apologize for the delay.

 

From the east overlook at Monte Sano State Park in Huntsville, Alabama.

 

Nikon D7200 — Nikon 18-300mm F6.3 ED VR

46mm

F8@1/30th

ISO 400

GND filter

 

DOL_2546.JPG

©Don Brown 2022

for Allan Reaves.

Arm ripped off

 

Album link: www.flickr.com/photos/128489916@N07/albums/72157666064757631

 

Backstory: Nature has summoned a stone golem to stop the rampant logging over the world. The transformers have heard of the rampaging golem and Optimus himself traveled to Texas where the golem was last sighted. Optimus tried to pacify the golem but it acted like a Juggernaut and a battle between the two ensued. The battle went on until dusk. Pieces of rock and metal fell to the floor but the rock monster proved to be unbeatable as he can regenerate whenever he touches rock and seemed to have unlimited strength and stamina. The rock golem then continued towards the forests to fulfill its mission. Now who will stop the monster?

Please support this HERE:

ideas.lego.com/projects/6be76f8d-1a36-4f9d-b170-5ae3318170e8

 

I am a very serious person...

...99.9% of the time.

 

I despise chickens and all chicken-related things (books, humor, art, etc.). Even the sight or mention of a chicken makes me groan inside. Then why in the world would I choose to build this?

Occasionally, when my mind is tired, not knowing what to think or even why to think, I fall into absurdity. In short, I cave. My seriousness leaves, and in its place stands incoherent gibberish. I embrace what I don't like, even if that means chickens.

So in a way, this creation represents the utter nonsense that can spout forth from a brain that really is not thinking clearly.

Speaking of that, Chicken Little is a story about some foolish young fowl who has a piece of something fall on its head (it may be an acorn, or a leaf, or a raindrop; who knows?). It goes berserk and insists that "The sky is falling!!". Thenceforth Chicken Little makes a huge fuss over it and gathers fellow animals to go warn the ruler of the area. The group meets a sly fox (what other kind of fox would there be?), who convinces the gullible animals that the way to the ruler goes right through the fox's lair. They enter the lair and the fox eats them all. (Or, if you like the other versions better, they escape and warn the ruler, but still turn out to be incorrect about the sky.)

So I think that that image of hysteria is what I've captured in this obnoxious little build. Whenever I feel like blurting out whatever my immediate reaction to my circumstances is, this chicken can remind me to always think before I speak, lest I believe the world will end and thereby fulfill my own prophecy through my own ignorance.

 

Don't worry, I promise that the next creations I submit will be serious in nature. This one is not a new precedent for me.

 

This chicken is a bauble-head; it has a technic axle as its neck that would need to be flexible if this were to become a set so that the head could wobble. The wings and tail can flap.

 

And yes, that is a canoe.

Shame Meets the Mercy of Jesus

Christine Caine, Unashamed: Drop the Baggage, Pick Up Your Freedom, Fulfill Your Destiny

Hi, I'm Christine.

At dawn one morning, Jesus went to the temple to teach. The people gathered round, ready to be taught — but the Pharisees rushed up, bringing a woman with them.

 

Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery,” they said. — John 8:4

 

My heart catches at the thought of what this woman must have been feeling. Can you imagine her fear? And above all, her humiliation? Caught in the act, yanked from under the covers, dragged through the streets under the stares of her neighbors. Was she covering her face, crying, pleading, silent? We don’t know. But she had to be aware that there would be no erasing the damage now done to her reputation, that she would from this day forward be the subject of whispers and fodder for the town gossips. She had, after all, been caught in the act. She had violated the law.

 

We know nothing of what may have driven her to this. Was she a repeat offender? Had she been seduced, perhaps even pressured or forced, by an unscrupulous man? Did she give in, in a moment of weakness, to something that she thought might bring her some relief in a loveless marriage? The Bible doesn’t say. What led her to commit adultery is not the point of the story, but rather Jesus’ response to her when her shameful adultery was publicly exposed.

 

We cannot help but notice that only the woman was brought before Jesus. Isn’t someone conspicuously missing from the scene? Apparently, only the woman — not her lover — was considered enough of an offender to be brought to the temple for immediate judgment. For a woman, adultery was not just a cause of deep shame but also potentially a capital offense.

 

The Pharisees challenged Jesus:

 

In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do You say? — John 8:5

 

The Bible doesn’t leave any doubt about what these men were attempting to do. This wasn’t a matter of wanting to adhere to the purest interpretation of justice according to the law. They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing Him (John 8:6). This woman was their bait. Would Jesus give a nod to stoning her, or disregard the law? Either way, they must have thought, we win.

 

Jesus didn’t take the bait. And notice how cleverly He distracted the attention of the crowd from the humiliated woman; He knelt and wrote on the ground with His finger. Imagine the crowd’s puzzlement as they watched Him. The Pharisees probably looked at each other, confused, and remained silent for a few moments to see whether He would speak. When He didn’t, they began assaulting Him with questions again, and eventually He stood and uttered the lines that have echoed through the minds of people of conscience ever since:

 

Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her. — John 8:7

 

And He knelt and wrote on the ground again.

 

What was it that he was writing on the ground? A list of the sins of those who stood in judgment? The name of the missing man? It would be fascinating to find out, but that’s not what impresses me most about these verses. I find it a measure of Jesus’ mercy toward the woman that, once again, He draws all eyes away from her and toward Himself as He knelt.

 

I try to imagine myself in the woman’s place, dragged from the warmth of a bed with perhaps just time enough to snatch a garment or a blanket before being hauled through the streets to stand before Jesus and a hostile, glaring, condemning crowd, already hefting their stones. But for a few precious moments, she senses that no one is looking at her. All eyes are on Jesus. He has interceded for her already—and He hasn’t said anything to her yet. As He would one day soon on the cross, He has taken all her shame and humiliation on Himself and given her a respite.

 

As if this weren’t relief enough, what happened next must have astonished her even more. The crowd of people began to drift away—“the older ones first,” the Bible tells us (John 8:9).

 

Jesus didn’t stand until the crowd had dispersed. Then He turned to the woman and said,

 

Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you? — John 8:10

 

Don’t you imagine it was with equal parts relief and amazement that she said, “No one, sir.”

 

Have you ever wondered how God reacts when you fall into sin? Then listen to these gentle words of Jesus and let them echo in your heart:

 

Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin. — John 8:11

 

We don’t know whether any other women were present in the temple courts to witness this exchange, but even if not, surely there were women who witnessed the woman being dragged through the streets by the Pharisees. How grateful and appreciative they must have felt toward this man who actually protected her and showed compassion, as no other men—including, apparently, the man who’d been sleeping with her — were doing.

 

Watch this Powerful Video for Unashamed

 

Watch the Video for Unashamed

From the video: We are meant to live unashamed of who God made us to be. The world says 'shame on you,' but I'm declaring 'shame off you' in Jesus' name! - Christine Caine

  

Women Are Not “Less Than”

 

One could argue that the woman was brought for judgment because of her sin, but that would be only partly true. If justice had been the real goal, then the man would have been charged as well. No, this woman was guilty of the crime of being a woman caught in adultery.

 

If that sounds like an exaggeration, it wasn’t one by much in first-century Israel. Women in that culture were second-class citizens at best, akin to slaves. Men had complete authority over their wives and daughters and made all decisions regarding relationships and activities. The Mishnah, part of the Jewish Talmud, taught that women were like Gentile slaves and could be obtained by intercourse, money, or written contract. Women had few rights inside the home and practically none outside of it. They were not counted as members during a synagogue count, and received little or no religious education, except from their husband if he so desired. Men were discouraged from speaking to women on the street.

 

First-century Palestine — the world into which Jesus was born — was clearly a male-dominated society, but it certainly hasn’t been the only one. I can point out another one from personal experience: Greek culture. In the Greek family I was raised in, I felt that because I was neither the firstborn nor a son, I was somehow “less than.” “You’re only a woman,” I was told in so many ways — and it was crystal clear that this was not a good thing.

 

Nowhere in my experience has the denigration of women been clearer as in our work through A21 to rescue sex-trafficked women. In one court case, the accused was asked by the judge, “Why do you traffic women?”

 

The man shrugged. “They are easier to traffic than drugs and guns,” he said. “The penalty is not as harsh, and you can kick them like an animal, and they will do what you want them to do.”

 

Misogyny. It’s an ugly word — the hatred of women or girls. It comes to us through governments, cultures, religions, and nations. We’d like to think that it’s something that happens elsewhere, far away, or a long time ago. But no other word describes so precisely the attitude of the trafficker on trial that day, nor of the industry he represents. And it shows up in many other ways as well, from jokes — have you ever heard a blonde joke about a dumb blond man? — to pornography, to the difficulty a woman has getting equal pay for equal work, to the ease with which crimes against women are ignored or covered up.

 

Women are denigrated as often in modern society as they were in ancient cultures.

 

Two children are sold into the human sex trade every minute. Nearly two million children are forced into the worldwide sex trade every year.1 And 80 percent of all trafficking victims are women and girls.2 According to the United Nations, there are one hundred million women missing worldwide 3 — and five thousand girls are murdered around the world every year by their parents for acting in ways that shame their family.4

 

The history of our world — all periods of history, all continents, all cultural traditions — is rampant with damage, oppression, diminishment, contempt, and hostility aimed at women. Just think of the Salem witch trials, for example. Even today, women are stoned to death for adultery in India and Pakistan; they are raped and sold as slaves in Syria. And the men who perpetrate these horrendous acts are excused with religious theology. In every case, in every century, women have been targets. I see this same kind of evil played out in A21 court cases all the time.

 

Of all places on earth, the Christian church could be the most significant place of healing and hope — the place where women experience the joys of being respected, appreciated, esteemed, included, and celebrated. After all, God Himself made women in His own image —

 

Male and female He created them. — Genesis 1:26–27, emphasis added

 

What a profound thought: God’s image is only fully reflected in both man and woman.

 

When we denigrate a woman, we are in fact diminishing part of the image of God. When we exclude women, we exclude part of God. When we put women down, we tarnish the image of God.

 

Psalm 139:13 tells us,

 

You knit me together in my mother’s womb.

 

God took just as much time and care knitting together every female child as He did every male child. Male and female are equally loved and valued by Him. Paul wrote to the Galatians stating this very point:

 

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. — Galatians 3:28, emphasis added

 

In Christ, there is no distinction in value between male and female.

 

No one dignifies, affirms, and celebrates women like the God of the Bible. Therefore, it should be the church that leads the way and sets the example of placing value upon womanhood... of getting them to Jesus, who can lift their shame and set them free.

 

Excerpted from Unashamed: Drop The Baggage, Pick Up Your Freedom, Fulfill Your Destiny by Christine Caine,

Unashamed

mail.google.com/mail/u/0/#inbox/1549b799e915dfdf

We will run and scream

You will dance with me

They'll fulfill our dreams and we'll be free

 

And we will be who we are

And they'll heal our scars

Sadness will be far away

 

So as we walked through fields of green

Was the fairest sun I'd ever seen

And I was broke, I was on my knees

And you said yes as I said please

 

This ain't no sham

I am what I am

 

Do not let my fickle flesh go to waste

As it keeps my heart and soul in its place

And I will love with urgency but not with haste

 

Edward C. Taylor arrived at Hamilton in 1942 intending to become a writer. To fulfill a science requirement, he flipped a coin and opted for chemistry over biology. That serendipitous decision led to a lifelong passion and a life-saving discovery.

Taylor’s discovery in 1987 of a compound that he and Lilly developed into Alimta, the first effective treatment for malignant pleural mesothelioma and later approved to combat non-small-cell lung cancer. After five years on the market, Alimta became the most successful new cancer drug, in terms of sales, in the history of the pharmaceutical industry.

This fulfills the requirements for indoor ambient light mixed with natural light. I used several candles to light my subject. My camera settings were: 1/8sec at f4.5 and my ISO was 200.

 

For this portrait, I wanted the lighting to be very warm and only really lighting the subject. I my subject to stand out in the photo. In Photoshop, I adjusted the curve and contrast/brightness to make the background even darker. I used the dodge tool to slightly brighten her eyes and I used the smart sharpen tool before uploading to give the photo a hair more sharpness.

© 2007 All rights reserved

M. Fleur-Ange Lamothe Photography

You can drive to the bottom of the Grand Canyon! This photo shows the pot of gold at the end of the road -- the Colorado River just above the confluence of Diamond Creek, near the western end of the Grand Canyon. This spot fulfilled a long-held dream -- to be at the floor of the canyon at the river. Not quite the same as hiking the canyon rim to rim, but an amazing experience nonetheless. I especially loved the golden light and bits of autumn color across the quiet waters of the Colorado River.

 

Sometimes dreams are mixed blessings. In this case, there were thousands of gnats -- perhaps released by the release of water from the Glen Canyon Dam. I got so many bites my hand swelled up and itched like crazy for three days!

 

Thanks for your visit and all of your support. Have a great Thursday!

This is not a good photograph. It really wasn't intended to be when I had to get a quick shot. It is, instead, representative of a wish, today fulfilled.

 

I love the hikes in the woods. The rugged nature of the area, the 'alone-ness', no other people around. Always the possibility of seeing something to photograph. I tell everyone about it, but I think my description of the hike deters rather than encourages. Well, today, daughter Tracie wanted to take the full hike with me.

 

She's very much a fitness lady, and does lots of walking / hiking on paths and trails, neither of which are found in the woods. She knew it would be different and wanted to go along. I was really overjoyed that she would get to see for the first time the places I find supernally beautiful.

 

We walked first way down to the cell tower with the Osprey nest. No activity when we got there, and were about to cross over and head into the woods when both Ospreys came out for a quick fly around. So fortunate, and I did snap off a few frames, though the camera wasn't set up for it. I hadn't really intended to take pictures on this hike; had the camera along, 'just in case.'

 

We did most of the hike route, and she was into it all the way. Kept saying she had no idea that such a place was there, so close to 'civilization'. It was a grey dark day, hot and humid but not overpoweringly so. She got to see a number of good things, including being able to walk from an active Osprey nest to an active Bald Eagle nest in a very short distance. She saw deer, ducks and geese, heard a fleeing Wood Duck cry like a baby. She saw her first cormorant.

 

And actually, what she didn't see was probably most newsworthy. For whatever reason, in all of the places where turtles are always found in large numbers, we didn't see a single one...anywhere. I cannot even imagine why.

 

As we were walking out of the woods, back to the lake, and then around the lake to the truck, she repeated how much fun it was to be in there, to hike over more than just flat ground, and now to be able to associate where she had been with photos of mine she sees.

 

For the record, when this hike was done, her personal fitness gizmo said she had taken right at 12,000 steps, and walked 5.4 miles. I make no accuracy claims about the steps, but the mileage seems about right to me for the route we took.

 

I see the photo above as a celebration of this wonderful day, when someone else -- someone special -- got to experience the woods few ever see, and I love.

our champagne flutes may be empty but lets not let that stop us from making our life as fulfilled as it possibly can be. peace be with you and i hope this to be an excellent new year for us all!

 

lani barbitta

   

Please don't use my image's on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

View On White

 

View On Black

 

"Explored" on January 18, 2009. #106

NEW POST:

 

staytruestayreal.wordpress.com/2015/06/15/tell-me-when-yo...

When I was young, my chums and I would sometimes imagine what we wanted to be when we grew up. You know--a policeman; a fireman; a soldier; an athlete. I couldn't admit it, but my secret dream was to be a lady.

 

I suspect I am the only one to fulfill their dream