View allAll Photos Tagged Hunger
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Hunger is a third-person 3D action adventure game with stealth and exploration elements. A nine-year old girl named Six is kidnapped from her home and taken to work in The Maw – a surreal underwater resort catering to the whims of the powerful elite. When an unexpected twist of fate offers her a chance at freedom, Six takes a journey through the bizarre and unpredictable world of The Maw, and catches a glimpse at the corrupt heart of modern happiness.
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www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzjaHrB-Dk8
Shadows fall, through the darkness we reach as the hunger calls.
Then you run to the passion that takes you over.
No lookin' back. The chance will never come again. You risk it all for your dream, won't let you go.
When you feel the hunger drivin' you on to your one desire.
Alone through an endless night, and the needs never satisfied.
Through these eyes seen a river of tears seen the strong survive.
Separate lives and the emptiness makes you wonder.
Blame it on love .You had it all and it's not enough. You'll never change a slave to the fire.
It never ends
Still you've the hunger drivin' you on to your one desire.
Never deny your heart. The need to be satisfied.
Still you feel the hunger, the primitive rite of a restless breed.
Surrendering all your life to the true nature of the beast.
No looking back. The chance will never come again.
You give it all to your dream. It never ends.
Still you've the hunger drivin' you on to your one desire.
Never deny your heart. The need to be satisfied.
Still you feel the hunger drivin' you on, so you feel the fire.
Alone through an endless night, and the needs never satisfied.
Mejor en lightbox
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© Juan Carlos Pascual - jcpascual@gmail.com
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* Prohibited the use for commercial purposes without prior written authorization.
© Juan Carlos Pascual - jcpascual@gmail.com
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First 1,000 + views <3
A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect
Every action in this world will bear a consequence
If you wade around forever, you will surely drown
I see what's going down.
Face down in the dirt
She said,This doesn't hurt
She said, I finally had enough ...
Face Down by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Every time a new year comes around people make resolutions. The need for a significant reason for new beginnings; Loose weight, diet, get in shape, be nicer, etc. I agree, these are all good things to aim for in your life; ways to better yourself and evolve. Yet I feel like they are lacking for me again this year, as they always have in the past. I need more, each year passes and I always fail to choose one and I think it's because I simply never found the right resolution for myself. After reading these books, I finally have ...
My resolution is to stand for something, to stand for myself. To shift my own inner powers and take control in ways I never dared to before.
So here's a picture of a Mockingjay; the symbol of hope, revolution, and a better future. Because these are the only things I wish for myself and those I love. To spread hope, start a self-revolution and create a better world for myself.
So here's to new beginnings, have a safe and happy New Year everyone. Thank you to everyone and anyone who supported me in any way.
{Here starts my Hunger Games conceptual series}
Her outfit is sewn on her in such a way that it is not really removable. Her quiver is packaged attached to her. She has elbow and knee pads on her outfit, too.
Palestinians demonstrating in the city of Jaffa in support of Palestinians prisoners on hunger strikes in Israeli detention facilities.
Image from the hunger strike of 300 worker immigrants more than a year ago in Greece. At that time, the far right tried to capitalise on the issue, blaming the immigrants for the high levels of unemployment in Greece.
Now, it is more evident than ever that the same reasons which "pushed" these 300 souls on such an extreme struggle, are those experienced by millions of Greeks.
We are losing our civil rights. We do not have our own government. We are becoming imprisoned. We are becoming refugees in our own country.
Now, it seems, there are but two choices left: either we become immigrants and we are treated as such, or we struggle. We struggle, like the 300 hunger strikers.
Some 795 million people in the world do not have enough food to lead a healthy active life. That's about one in nine people on earth.
Asia is the continent with the most hungry people – two-thirds of the total population. The percentage in southern Asia has fallen in recent years but in western Asia, it has increased slightly.
Thank You for your inquiries, but I do not do commission work. I only create & offer original OOAK dolls at this time
...
Untitled (Hunger 2), Tim Lowly © 1996, tempera on ceramic bowl, 7" x 7" x 4"
This painting is from a series of 21 paintings on the bottom surface of traditional Korean bowls - done for an exhibition I had in Seoul, Korea in 1997. Recently, as I was writing some thoughts on my work to a colleague, it occurred that I had not explained publicly my thinking about and reason for making this work. This seems pretty important given the problematic territory that this work wanders into. What follows is an excerpt from my correspondence:
Around 1995 the “special needs” school that our daughter Temma had been attending for 6 years – Lakeview Learning Center – was preparing to close. I was working at the school on a large painting (titled Big Picture) of the classroom for “severely and profoundly disabled” children that Temma was part of. While working on this large painting I was given a collection of miscellaneous photographs documenting the students in their daily life at the school. Also around this time I was offered an exhibition with a gallery in South Korea, the country where I grew up (my parents were medical missionaries). I decided to make work for this show based on the photographs that I had been given of students from Lakeview Learning Center as a way of making present a population that was largely invisible / marginalized in Korea at that time. My goal in making these paintings was to select photographs that (for me) most powerfully expressed the humanity of these children. In making the paintings my intent was to try to represent them as best as I could in accordance to how I perceived them via the photographs: that is, as completely and compellingly human. Despite my ambivalence about using other people’s photographs as sources for paintings, these photographs – apparently taken by the staff of the school - offered a kind of “objective” perspective on the children somewhat fitting for my relative distance from them personally. That said, to the extent that these children were part of a community of which my daughter was a part I felt it was appropriate to make paintings based representing them.
This latter point is important in relation to the fundamental intent of this project. While I was attempting to portray the children in all their individuality evident in the photographic sources, I was doing so with the primary goal of presenting them as a community: a community as evidently diverse and complex (in various respects) as any other.
There is a well-known (in Korea) poem by the Korean Catholic “Minjung” writer Kim Chi Ha that has an essentially Eucharistic refrain: “God is rice”. In allusion to that poem I decided to do a series of 21 paintings on Korean rice bowls (a very commonly used kind of bowl). More specifically, as an allusion to the marginalization of this population I made the paintings on the bottom / underside (typically unseen) surface of the bowls. In using the rice bowl I not only wanted to draw a connection to Kim Chi Ha’s poem, but further to the movement of Minjung Art that had grown in vitality at the ending period of Korea’s long dictatorship (the early ‘80s). The Minjung Art movement (which, especially in the person of the artist Im Ok Sang, had been very influential for me) made the empowerment of the poor and the marginalized their priority. My hope was to situate the subject of the work I was making – at that time still a largely marginalized community - in the context of the Minjung political imperative.
In this work I was attempting to represent these children as faithfully as I could. It might be helpful to unpack my thinking “representation” a bit: Painting, particularly realistic / representational painting is frequently thought of / received in relation to the convention of “mastery”. That is, when one makes a realistic painting it might be understood as an artists’ claim of mastery and, implicitly, as their claim to an authority over the subject represented. I do not have any interest in that way of approaching painting. I am interested in painting that is a kind of conversation with the material used to make it (as opposed to painting as about control or domination of the material). No less importantly, I’m interested in painting as a regarding of the subject in humility: an attempt to represent the subject as honestly, accurately and respectfully as possible. Put another way: painting for me is learning how to make this painting in relation to trying to understand and represent this subject.
Taking that word representation a bit further: it is of course a reasonable question to ask whether one has the right to represent (make or take a picture of) another person – particularly someone who is not able to give consent. And it is reasonable to question whether I – even as the parent of a member of that community and trusted by the staff of that community – have the right to represent the students. But no less important is the other side of this question: the right of each person to be represented (both literally, in the sense of being pictured, and - via metaphoric implication - politically). In the case of this particular population and the particular context in which these paintings were being shown my intention was to make and show these representational paintings of these children as a claim to their right (authority) to be represented: Particularly towards the goal of advocating the presence of members of this population as they existed in that country at that time.
For hunger is a curious thing: at first it is with you all the time, waking and sleeping and in your dreams, and your belly cries out insistently, and there is a knawing and a pain as if your very vitals were being devoured, and you must stop it at any cost, and you buy a moment's respite even while you know and fear the sequel. Then the pain is no longer sharp but dull, and this too is with you always, so that you think of food many times a day and each time a terrible sickness assails you, and because you know this you try to avoid the thought, but you cannot, it is with you. Then that too is gone, all pain, all desire, only a great emptiness is left, like the sky, like a well in drought, and it is now that the strength drains from your limbs, and you try to rise and you cannot, or to swallow and your throat is powerless, and both the swallow and the effort of retaining the liquid tax you to the uttermost.
Agrunia, the female Pallas cat at Zoo Zürich - Switzerland
Agrunia, die weiblichen Manul in Zoo Zürich - Schweiz
www.lawriebrailey.co.uk
Untitled (Hunger 16), 1996, 7" x 7" x 4", tempera on ceramic bowl, private collection.
This painting is from a series of 21 paintings on the bottom surface of traditional Korean bowls - done for an exhibition I had in Seoul, Korea in 1997. Recently, as I was writing some thoughts on my work to a colleague, it occurred that I had not explained publicly my thinking about and reason for making this work. This seems pretty important given the problematic territory that this work wanders into. What follows is an excerpt from my correspondence:
In 1995 the “special needs” school that our daughter Temma had been attending for 6 years – Lakeview Learning Center – was preparing to close. I was working at the school on a large painting (titled Big Picture) of the classroom for “severely and profoundly disabled” children that Temma was part of. While working on this large painting I was given a collection of miscellaneous photographs documenting the students in their daily life at the school. Also around this time I was offered an exhibition with a gallery in South Korea, the country where I grew up (my parents were medical missionaries). I decided to make work for this show based on the photographs that I had been given of students from Lakeview Learning Center as a way of making present a population that was largely invisible / marginalized in Korea at that time. My goal in making these paintings was to select photographs that (for me) most powerfully expressed the humanity of these children. In making the paintings my intent was to try to represent them as best as I could in accordance to how I perceived them via the photographs: that is, as completely and compellingly human. Despite my ambivalence about using other people’s photographs as sources for paintings, these photographs – apparently taken by the staff of the school - offered a kind of “objective” perspective on the children somewhat fitting for my relative distance from them personally. That said, to the extent that these children were part of a community of which my daughter was a part I felt it was appropriate to make paintings based representing them.
This latter point is important in relation to the fundamental intent of this project. While I was attempting to portray the children in all their individuality evident in the photographic sources, I was doing so with the primary goal of presenting them as a community: a community as evidently diverse and complex (in various respects) as any other.
There is a well-known (in Korea) poem by the Korean Catholic “Minjung” writer Kim Chi Ha that has an essentially Eucharistic refrain: “God is rice”. In allusion to that poem I decided to do a series of 21 paintings on Korean rice bowls (a very commonly used kind of bowl). More specifically, as an allusion to the marginalization of this population I made the paintings on the bottom / underside (typically unseen) surface of the bowls. In using the rice bowl I not only wanted to draw a connection to Kim Chi Ha’s poem, but further to the movement of Minjung Art that had grown in vitality at the ending period of Korea’s long dictatorship (the early ‘80s). The Minjung Art movement (which, especially in the person of the artist Im Ok Sang, had been very influential for me) made the empowerment of the poor and the marginalized their priority. My hope was to situate the subject of the work I was making – at that time still a largely marginalized community - in the context of the Minjung political imperative.
In this work I was attempting to represent these children as faithfully as I could. It might be helpful to unpack my thinking “representation” a bit: Painting, particularly realistic / representational painting is frequently thought of / received in relation to the convention of “mastery”. That is, when one makes a realistic painting it might be understood as an artists’ claim of mastery and, implicitly, as their claim to an authority over the subject represented. I do not have any interest in that way of approaching painting. I am interested in painting that is a kind of conversation with the material used to make it (as opposed to painting as about control or domination of the material). No less importantly, I’m interested in painting as a regarding of the subject in humility: an attempt to represent the subject as honestly, accurately and respectfully as possible. Put another way: painting for me is learning how to make this painting in relation to trying to understand and represent this subject.
Taking that word representation a bit further: it is of course a reasonable question to ask whether one has the right to represent (make or take a picture of) another person – particularly someone who is not able to give consent. And it is reasonable to question whether I – even as the parent of a member of that community and trusted by the staff of that community – have the right to represent the students. But no less important is the other side of this question: the right of each person to be represented (both literally, in the sense of being pictured, and - via metaphoric implication - politically). In the case of this particular population and the particular context in which these paintings were being shown my intention was to make and show these representational paintings of these children as a claim to their right (authority) to be represented: Particularly towards the goal of advocating the presence of members of this population as they existed in that country at that time.
Click the following link for an essay on this and other work included in an exhibition at Art Space Seoul in Seoul, South Korea in 1997.
Vickie used a Hunger Games track suit from Jef's great 50 cent bin with her handmade shirt. She accessorized with a pair of handcuffs, cowboy hat and a gold purse (also from Jef's bin). I'm not sure why he has Barbies purse
Came upon this bald eagle at sunrise a few weeks ago at Bombay Hook. The sun was up and to the right of him so I tried to find a spot where I could position the bird to the left and capture something a little different than a straight silhouette shot....all the while hoping he would stay.
He did.
Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) in THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE. Photo credit: Murray Close
Another little build for the library display. Hunger games (not a scene, just some of the elements put together).
After reading the first Hunger Games books and quickly making my way through the second, I decided to make a few mocks. This one is based on the part when Katniss and the crew are about to go on tour. I also tried out a different technique for the river, what'd you think?
New story out for HungerTV -
www.hungertv.com/feature/young-blood-lucia-oconnor-mccarthy/
Photography - Lucia O'Connor-McCarthy
Styling - Zoe Hancock
Hair & Make-up - Michelle Dacillo
Model - Charli Howard @ Union
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Untitled (Hunger 14), Tim Lowly © 1996, tempera on ceramic bowl, 7" x 7" x 4"
This painting is from a series of 21 paintings on the bottom surface of traditional Korean bowls - done for an exhibition I had in Seoul, Korea in 1997. Recently, as I was writing some thoughts on my work to a colleague, it occurred that I had not explained publicly my thinking about and reason for making this work. This seems pretty important given the problematic territory that this work wanders into. What follows is an excerpt from my correspondence:
Around 1995 the “special needs” school that our daughter Temma had been attending for 6 years – Lakeview Learning Center – was preparing to close. I was working at the school on a large painting (titled Big Picture) of the classroom for “severely and profoundly disabled” children that Temma was part of. While working on this large painting I was given a collection of miscellaneous photographs documenting the students in their daily life at the school. Also around this time I was offered an exhibition with a gallery in South Korea, the country where I grew up (my parents were medical missionaries). I decided to make work for this show based on the photographs that I had been given of students from Lakeview Learning Center as a way of making present a population that was largely invisible / marginalized in Korea at that time. My goal in making these paintings was to select photographs that (for me) most powerfully expressed the humanity of these children. In making the paintings my intent was to try to represent them as best as I could in accordance to how I perceived them via the photographs: that is, as completely and compellingly human. Despite my ambivalence about using other people’s photographs as sources for paintings, these photographs – apparently taken by the staff of the school - offered a kind of “objective” perspective on the children somewhat fitting for my relative distance from them personally. That said, to the extent that these children were part of a community of which my daughter was a part I felt it was appropriate to make paintings based representing them.
This latter point is important in relation to the fundamental intent of this project. While I was attempting to portray the children in all their individuality evident in the photographic sources, I was doing so with the primary goal of presenting them as a community: a community as evidently diverse and complex (in various respects) as any other.
There is a well-known (in Korea) poem by the Korean Catholic “Minjung” writer Kim Chi Ha that has an essentially Eucharistic refrain: “God is rice”. In allusion to that poem I decided to do a series of 21 paintings on Korean rice bowls (a very commonly used kind of bowl). More specifically, as an allusion to the marginalization of this population I made the paintings on the bottom / underside (typically unseen) surface of the bowls. In using the rice bowl I not only wanted to draw a connection to Kim Chi Ha’s poem, but further to the movement of Minjung Art that had grown in vitality at the ending period of Korea’s long dictatorship (the early ‘80s). The Minjung Art movement (which, especially in the person of the artist Im Ok Sang, had been very influential for me) made the empowerment of the poor and the marginalized their priority. My hope was to situate the subject of the work I was making – at that time still a largely marginalized community - in the context of the Minjung political imperative.
In this work I was attempting to represent these children as faithfully as I could. It might be helpful to unpack my thinking “representation” a bit: Painting, particularly realistic / representational painting is frequently thought of / received in relation to the convention of “mastery”. That is, when one makes a realistic painting it might be understood as an artists’ claim of mastery and, implicitly, as their claim to an authority over the subject represented. I do not have any interest in that way of approaching painting. I am interested in painting that is a kind of conversation with the material used to make it (as opposed to painting as about control or domination of the material). No less importantly, I’m interested in painting as a regarding of the subject in humility: an attempt to represent the subject as honestly, accurately and respectfully as possible. Put another way: painting for me is learning how to make this painting in relation to trying to understand and represent this subject.
Taking that word representation a bit further: it is of course a reasonable question to ask whether one has the right to represent (make or take a picture of) another person – particularly someone who is not able to give consent. And it is reasonable to question whether I – even as the parent of a member of that community and trusted by the staff of that community – have the right to represent the students. But no less important is the other side of this question: the right of each person to be represented (both literally, in the sense of being pictured, and - via metaphoric implication - politically). In the case of this particular population and the particular context in which these paintings were being shown my intention was to make and show these representational paintings of these children as a claim to their right (authority) to be represented: Particularly towards the goal of advocating the presence of members of this population as they existed in that country at that time.