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A simple shot of a hand holding onto a dress. Shot with a single Speedlight and a shoot through umbrella.
Artwork of business wording with dropping letter from business hand on abstract colorful background.
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands
-e.e. commings
Hand painted ice tea pitcher. In the early years of the 20th century there was a craze for porcelain painting as a hobby. The blanks were usually imported from France, mostly Limoges so the pieces have underglaze foreign markings. You could take a class at the local “Y” or follow instruction books with patterns.
The painting is done over the glaze and not very durable. If you buy or inherit this type of wear wash in mild soap and allow to air dry. Never put it in a dishwasher, this applies to most antique or vintage ceramics.
A few weeks back I had a nasty accident on my bicycle. You can read more about that here. This is the worst of the injuries - a badly broken left hand. It's been filled with screws and plates after a three-hour surgical procedure, and I had to share this as I couldn't quite believe it when the surgeon showed it to me today. Mad, but he did an amazing job and I thank him sincerely. Very fiddly work, executed perfectly. Bravo, Doc.
Please don't use this image without explicit permission from Foraggio Fotographic.
© Toby Forage
Description: Close-up of two sets of children's hands with palm side up. Imperial Royal Institute for the Education of the Blind, Vienna.
Date: 1878-1898
Creator: Alexander Mell
Format: black and white photograph
Digital Identifier: AG129_44_0008_j
Digitization: Digitized at the Boston Public Library and federally funded with LSTA funds through the Massachusetts Board of Library Commissioners.
Rights: Samuel P. Hayes Research Library, Perkins School for the Blind, Watertown, MA
Copyright 2014 Hilde Heyvaert.
All rights reserved.
No unauthorized use, reproduction or distribution without prior permission.
Sentado sobre los muertos
De Miguel Hernández.
Sentado sobre los muertos
que se han callado en dos meses,
beso zapatos vacíos
y empuño rabiosamente
la mano del corazón
y el alma que lo sostiene.
Que mi voz suba a los montes
y baje a la tierra y truene,
eso pide mi garganta
desde ahora y desde siempre.
Acércate a mi clamor,
pueblo de mi misma leche,
árbol que con tus raíces
encarcelado me tienes,
que aquí estoy yo para amarte
y estoy para defenderte
con la sangre y con la boca
como dos fusiles fieles.
Si yo salí de la tierra,
si yo he nacido de un vientre
desdichado y con pobreza,
no fue sino para hacerme
ruiseñor de las desdichas,
eco de la mala suerte,
y cantar y repetir
a quien escucharme debe
cuanto a penas, cuanto a pobres,
cuanto a tierra se refiere.
Ayer amaneció el pueblo
desnudo y sin qué comer,
y el día de hoy amanece
justamente aborrascado
y sangriento justamente.
En su mano los fusiles
leones quieren volverse:
para acabar con las fieras
que lo han sido tantas veces.
Aunque le faltan las armas,
pueblo de cien mil poderes,
no desfallezcan tus huesos,
castiga a quien te malhiere
mientras que te queden puños,
uñas, saliva, y te queden
corazón, entrañas, tripas,
cosas de varón y dientes.
Bravo como el viento bravo,
leve como el aire leve,
asesina al que asesina,
aborrece al que aborrece
la paz de tu corazón
y el vientre de tus mujeres.
No te hieran por la espalda,
vive cara a cara y muere
con el pecho ante las balas,
ancho como las paredes.
Canto con la voz de luto,
pueblo de mí, por tus héroes:
tus ansias como las mías,
tus desventuras que tienen
del mismo metal el llanto,
las penas del mismo temple,
y de la misma madera
tu pensamiento y mi frente,
tu corazón y mi sangre,
tu dolor y mis laureles.
Antemuro de la nada
esta vida me parece.
Aquí estoy para vivir
mientras el alma me suene,
y aquí estoy para morir,
cuando la hora me llegue,
en los veneros del pueblo
desde ahora y desde siempre.
Varios tragos es la vida
y un solo trago es la muerte.
A mediados del 2012 le recitamos varias poesías al silencio que te regala un cementerio, y en el Mágico pueblo de Tepoztlán Morelos, le hablé a los muertos, porqué no regalarles poesía, es mi manera de respetarlos, y entender que es infinito el reino de los cielos.
Fotógrafo: A.A.
Y yo… V.
Fotografías sin retoque.
In an attempt to be a discreet friend, I'm not naming whose hands these are, but let's just say they've been doing some remodeling and couldn't scrape these suckers clean.
Another of my favourit hand meters. Very compact, very convenient to use (with one hand). It a dual-range CdS meter with Match-the-needle simple operation, and the black switch that you can see at lower left can be operated by the thumb when held in the left hand. And the Match-needle dial can also be easily operated by the left thumb as it turns so smoothly, and the power button is also easily operated by the left thumb. In short this is an ideal meter for the lefties, and although I'm not a leftie, I still love this very convenient meter. And it works fine with a 1.5V alkaline battery, instead of the original 1.35V mercury.