View allAll Photos Tagged Hand
Topic: Radiating lines pulls the viewer directly to a center of interest. Take advantage of this in a photo you create today.
A way to achieve a goal is not the goal itself.
This was shot right below a regular lamp. The light is sickly yellow, but thanks to a trick of taking an additional shot of a blank sheet of paper I was able to sample the color cast and apply a negating transform to this picture. I love this part of shooting in RAW.
Hands on Approach, Live performance at Tróia on Portugal Dream Coast .
Photographer : João Luis Martins Fernandes
Finally i got two 500W strobes to use indoor.. Actually they're not the typical studio strobes but for a student on low budget they work pretty well anyway!
The hand of Fatima, also known as Hamsa, is an amulet used for protection. Having researched Tunisia and North African culture before we went on holiday, I came across these little things and as they were similar to the Nazar bracelets I bought in Turkey I had my heart set on collecting a small silver one with a blue stone. When I found these at Nabeul Market on Day 3 I just had to get one and asked the men to make me a blue one! It ended up costing around 20 - 25 dinar for it, which is under £10!
Oh Man how I love this shot ... Mine, Ryann and Andrew's hands on my belly. Eliot was born 11 days later.
My hands after pulling the dead vegetables from the garden.
I'd always wanted elegant, soft, lady-like hands, whatever that means. I'd wanted hands like my childhood friend Donna -- she had long, tapering fingers and oblong, thin nails. Soft, soft skin. Instead, genetics dealt me these stubby fingers, and dry, crackled skin, while an childhood obsessive oral fixation implanted a near-unbreakable nail and cuticle biting habit. When I was about sixteen or so, a friend of mine tattooed a lightning bolt on my left middle finger with a sewing needle and India ink. The end result, after days of swelling, was less a rock-and-roll bolt and more a shaky outline of the state of New Jersey. There it is, though, etched permanently on my finger.
I wouldn't say I've grown to love my hands, but I don't think about them much anymore, except to notice sometimes how wrangled they are from paint, or work, or gardening.
"...these hands are small I know
but they're not yours
they are my own..."
I think that is how the Jewel song goes.
I heard it while wandering through Goodwill this afternoon.
Some items were recently donated to the Concrete Historical Museum in Concrete, Washington. I'm trying to find out if they have any value.
Fine baskets do have collectors, so I am hoping that I can get some input on the origin of this one and if it has collector interest. If it has value, I will return it to the woman that donated it so she can sell it.