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Street Photography in Ludwigsburg: Eingefangen von fujicolours.com
Entdecken Sie die lebendige Essenz von Ludwigsburg durch das Objektiv von fujicolours.com. Unsere Street-Photography-Sammlung zeigt das dynamische Leben und die architektonische Schönheit dieser charmanten deutschen Stadt. Von belebten Marktplätzen bis zu ruhigen Parks – jedes Bild erzählt eine Geschichte von Ludwigsburgs reicher Kultur und Geschichte. Ob die filigranen Details barocker Gebäude oder die spontanen Momente des Alltagslebens, unsere Fotos erwecken die Straßen der Stadt zum Leben. Erkunden Sie unsere Galerie und erleben Sie Ludwigsburg in einem neuen Licht. Ideal für Fotografie-Enthusiasten und Liebhaber urbaner Landschaften.
The semi-nocturnal, furtive movements of the early morning landscape photographer are often fraught with unlikely hazards. In the equally unlikely (ok - make that massively improbable) event that a film were made of the same, the opening certification would warn of scenes containing mild peril. Some of you, the audience, would scoff at this odd declaration - yet those of you who tread before dawn in search of the photogenic know it to be true. In point of fact, this mild peril often starts even before leaving the house...
Picture the following if you will.
Having spent an enjoyable first day's holiday with my wife, inlaws and her grandad somewhere in Wales, yours truly is itching to get out and explore what delights there are to tempt that lens. Late that afternoon, under a flimsy pretence of 'getting some air', I head out in my wife's car (cheaper than mine to run while away although as it's a Beetle Cabriolet there's barely room to pack camera gear, let alone non-essentials like clothes) to scout the area. Painfully aware there's a curfew in place for my return to enable us all to go out for dinner, I nevertheless discover a couple of locations that validate my previous research. Ashamedly, I'm unable to resist rattling off a few test images, and as a result arrive back at our holiday cottage later than agreed only to be met by my wife standing in the doorway slowly tapping a rolling pin in the palm of her open hand. Never have I felt such kinship with Andy Capp... I take in this harmonious scene of domesticity as I hurriedly pull up alongside the front wall to the cottage, before cursing as I have to scramble across the car's interior and out through the passenger door (despite Beetle Cabriolet's having infinitesimally tiny boots, they have gigantic doors impossible to extricate yourself through unless you're parked several yards away from any solid objects. Walls are pretty solid).
Having had a lovely meal and made some plans for the next few days together, I decide to head out early the next morning to do some shooting - figuring I can either be back before anyone else is really up and with it, or else arrange to meet up with them once they head out in my father-in-law's car. This plan becomes even more promising once I realise fog is forecast for the early hours, coinciding with high tide...
10.30pm and I'm off too bed so as to be up for 4.45am.
12.00 midnight and I'm lying awake, unable to sleep and filled with anticipation at the prospect of photographing my ideal conditions in a completely new location. Yes, I really do get that excited!
2.30am and I'm wondering if perhaps I had dropped off at some point. Surely I couldn't have really been laid awake for four hours listening to the settling sounds of an unfamiliar house at night?
4.45am and my alarm goes off. Judging by my initial fuzziness I must have laid awake for at least four hours listening to the settling sounds of an unfamiliar house at night. However, it takes only moments for my enthusiasm to take over and I'm stabbing quickly at the off button on my alarm so as not to wake anyone else.
Casting aside the duvet, for once grateful that all holiday homes seem to have single beds - there's less chance of disturbing my wife as I push myself from the mattress. My first footfall on the bare wooden floorboards sends a creak through the room, and I remember the unequivocal natural law that states all sounds occurring before dawn shall automatically be multiplied by the power of ten in relation to their day time counterparts. It's right up there with the one about that tree falling in a forrest somewhere with nobody to hear it... Tentatively sneaking across the room by the glow of my phone's screen, testing each board before laying my full weight on it I remember I have a whole room, landing, double staircase and hallway to cross like this. There might as well have been tacks on the floor. There lay the problem with the cottage we were staying in, rustic and full of character charm it may have been, complete with quaint paraphernalia guaranteed to enhance your stay, yet not a silent carpet anywhere to be found. Reaching the clothes I'd laid out I quickly pulled them on (marvelling at how much noise an innocuous sock can make and ruefully aware I could quite possibly be putting my t-shirt on back to front), I try to ascertain whether opening the door quickly or slowly will render the least sound. I try both ways. One causes my wife to moan and turn in her bed. The other causes her to moan and turn the other way. Reaching the landing, I creep hesitantly the half mile to the bathroom, pausing with one foot raised upon hearing halted snoring emanate from one of the bedrooms. It picks up unabated, and I thread my way on to the sink, where I ease the tap slightly open and listen as Niagara Falls splashes into my cupped hands and waiting face. Wash complete, I remember to leave my electric toothbrush off as I brush (clever lad I am), before knocking the toothpaste tube over - it heads to the floor in slow motion and I break it's fall on the stone slate with my foot, flicking it back to an upright position in the cabinet as I mop a bead of perspiration from my furrowed brow. Ok, I lied about the last part. I don't perspire.
Twenty minutes later and I'm congratulating myself as I head through the front door, shoes clasped in one hand as I ease it closed behind me. The fog really is thick, I can see it eddying about the occasional street lamp and the air has that curiously leaden, heavy taste about it that only comes with such atmospherics. Slipping on my footwear and metaphorically rubbing my hands with glee, I press the keyfob to unlock the car and cross to the passenger door remembering the wall blocking the driver's side. Sliding my gear on to the back seat (not wanting to be fooled by the Beetle Cabriolet's infinitessimally tiny boot), I slide in and over the passenger seat, ready to slowly drive off and leave everyone none the wiser in their beds.
Suddenly, the car alarm sounds. Lights flash blindingly reflecting from the metallic surfaces of other cars nearby, while the horn triggers deafeningly as I freeze in disbelief just as I'm falling into the driver's seat. Stabbing again at the unlock button on the keyfob I manage to deactivate everything and drive off hurriedly, laughing to myself at the ridiculousness of it all. Some thirty minutes later, setting up ready for this shot, I remember if entering the car by any other than the driver's door the alarm is only deactivated if you depress the fob twice.
Scenes of mild peril - just as I told you.
On a separate note, I'm pleased to have received an Honourable Mention in the International Photography Awards for my entry 'Sand, Sea & Silence', a set of five related images.
photoawards.com/en/Pages/Gallery/zoomwin.php?eid=8-45154-...
Congratulations to all those of you I know who enjoyed successes - I've recognised at least a couple of dozen of you so far!
Good to redress these two. I love their blushy cheeks and red lips. The background is a from a vintage Sindy cardboard house (the kitchen).
Here is most of the the Zeroid Action Set.
I know it did come with one Zeroid. Has the Solar Cycle.
Which is the yellow wheel.
Then the Missile Defense Pad. When a Zeroid rolls up the ramp and runs over buttons it releases and launches the three missiles. This is missing one missile.
This Set predates the Commander Action Set.
Trabajo realizado para la empresa de publicidad Mater Consulting de Elche.
Fotos para el catálogo de Ideal Garden.
Another cold day for photos, but it was bright and clear. However, this outfit was ideal for a day like today.
Wedding in Maldives is like a dream come true. Maldives is a beautiful archipelago comprising of around 1000 coral islands. Located in the middle of the blue waters of Indian Ocean, the country offers its guests with abundant natural beauty and contemporary hotels and resorts.
We live in a world that begs for perfection. An ideal that is so tangible, that even the greatest linguistic scholars would prefer to study the meaning of love than tackle this futile topic.
The funny thing is, if I was to tell you that perfectionism was a disease, you'd laugh and tell me that it is either a half cocked idea for attention or an elitist copout.
I disagree with both of the aforementioned. Here's why:
What if there was an illness that stopped you getting out of bed because you you were afraid you weren't going to be good enough?
What if every time you picked up a paint brush, you put it back down?
What if you could never finish a piece of art because you simply didn't know which move to make?
What's if every relationship you were ever in failed because you tried to be the best possible person, FOR the other person?
These symptoms could be put on laziness, obsessiveness or many of the levels of psychotic delusions that are floating around.
Think again.
Imagine you couldn't get out of bed because of the stereotypical perspective of the world around you didn't include your body image, size or job description?
Imagine you picked up the brush and put it back down, because you were afraid that you would never complete it the way you saw it in your head?
What's if you were building a piece of furniture, and you couldn't finish it, because you were so afraid of the last piece that was being put in place was not right, and you had no way of making it right?
What if you were constantly fucking up in a relationship and never knowing why, even though you thought you were doing the best you could?
These are all symptoms of perfectionism.
We are human, we are not perfect, yet the society that we live in has an idea that we climb a certain threshold, like a checkpoint in a video game we become inexcusable for the past levels errors, if we should happen to make them in our current environment.
This is fucked up.
The desire for perfect is futile, because, who are you being perfect for? Whose idealism are you striving for?
How is John Banks, living in suburbia, shooting weddings for a multitude of clientele constantly booked?
He believes in his shit.
He believes in his work.
Imagine if you could change the whole idea of failing, into the new thought "fear of being perfect"?
Imagine if it was the erroneous thought that had somehow bord it's way into your head and manifested itself into a fear, constantly changing and altering your present mindset.
Imagine saying to yourself "I didn't fuck up, I just feared I couldn't do it perfectly and that scared me".
This is the real story.
We are all so very capable of so very much, but the thing is, there is only a few elements of the social spectrum that are accepted as the norm. At the moment.
You think Van Gough gave a fuck about his popularity? Because that's all that perfectionism is… a desire for popularity.
You want your product to be good and in this age, well liked? So you perfect it.
I wanna say, fuck that shit in the ass.
Too much is going un noticed and un done because the perfectionist ideals out there.
The perfectionists are setting the standards and the perfectionists aren't releasing the goods.
That's fucked up.
This needs to change.
This weeks 52, exhibits the way I see the world, or at least want to. My initial idea was to place one splash image, the one, second from the last. The crown of splashes.
The thing is, whilst I was doing this, set up on a 200X150mm X 2 sheet of melamine with a speed gun and a turkey baster strapped to a clothing rack, I realised JUST HOW MUCH FUN IT WAS.
My idea of capturing the perfect went out the window and became an adventure of capturing the moment. As many times as I could.
It's not worth being perfect. There is nothing to strive for if you are.
An Ideal Husband
The present possibilities for humor in the plays of Oscar Wilde seem to lie almost entirely in the humor with which they are played. Somehow, the whipped-cream witticisms of the Wilde characters sound banal today, and the chief fun to be had from his stuffed shirts is in a sly spoof of their Victorian ways. Yet, for some unaccountable reason, Sir Alexander Korda has chosen to film the ancient Wilde play, "An Ideal Husband," as though its people were the most consequential of folks and its ridiculously old-fashioned problem as vital as atomic power.
It is hard to figure this blunder, for Sir Alex is a smart and urbane man whose humor has been in working order in his previous British-made films. And he has certainly put a lot of effort into this current job, now on the Roxy's screen. Yet, with all the solemnity and pomposity that even Oscar found supremely dull, he has turned out a handsome film in color with a conspicuously antiquated plot.
Believe it or not, Sir Alex—the gentleman, mind you, who made such previous charming pictures as "Vacation From Marriage" and "The Private Life of Henry VIII"—is here concerned with the story of a painfully righteous British Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs whose brilliant career and domestic happiness are suddenly jeopardized by a scheming woman's blackmail. And, as though this were not sufficiently trying as a subject for serious concern, he has included as an equally ponderous burden the Wildean sub-plot of a Victorian courtship between two young things.
Handled with elegant derision in both the acting and the camera's attitude, there might be some charming entertainment of a sardonic order in this old wheeze. But with Hugh Williams playing the blackmail victim in an insufferably stiff and artless way, with Diana Wynyard playing his good wife like the lady in "Cavalcade" and with Paulette Goddard playing the siren among a lot of stuffy English swells as though she were the gal who lived next to the firehouse, it fizzles with a dull, distressing plop. Michael Wilding's eccentric exercising of his elbows, his eyebrows and his jaw as the gay gent who makes most of the wisecracks is fantastic and painful, too, and Glynis Johns, Sir Aubrey Smith and Constance Collier fall in with the heavy furniture.
If Sir Alex had put into his treatment as much style as is in the costumes, as much flavor as is in the velvet settings, this film could have been—but why say more?
AN IDEAL HUSBAND, screen adaptation of the Oscar Wilde play by Lajos Biro; directed and produced by Sir Alexander Korda for London Film Productions, and release by Twentieth Century-Fox. At the Roxy.
Mrs. Cheveley . . . . . Paulette Goddard
Lord Goring . . . . . Michael Wilding
Lady Chiltern . . . . . Diana Wynyard
Mabel Chiltern . . . . . Glynis Johns
Lady Markby . . . . . Constance Collier
Lord Caversham . . . . . Sir Aubrey Smith
Sir Robert Chiltern . . . . . Hugh Williams
Lady Basildon . . . . . Harriette Johns
Mrs. Marchmont . . . . . Christine Norden
Vicomte de Nanjac . . . . . Michael Anthony
Phipps . . . . . Allan Jeayes
BOSLEY CROWTHER New York Times 15 January 1948
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This Bit comes from when the Americans were filming their version of the play “an Ideal Husband”
A couple of newspapers picked up on it at the time.
The film was shot on several sites, including an Italian waterfront.
At the end of the week it was their custom to have a “wrap” party celebrating the end of the week’s shoot.
The ball scene had been filmed that day and most of the cast attended the get-together still in costume. This included 3 of the minor actresses who had bonded during the filming.
After the revelry was dying out, these 3 decided to go it alone, leaving the stage room to hit several of the bars and a casino located on the riverfront. Making a decidedly poor decision, they opted to wear the elegant gowns and shimmering jewelry they had donned for the stylish ball act( much of which was later cut from thye movie, including their roles) .
Needless to say the young trio of pretty actresses garnered a considerable amount of male attention as they made their rounds. They left their last stop in the wee early hours of the morning only to discover they taxi they had paid to wait for them had vanished. A dapper young man with a foreign accent that made the girls swoon came upon the young ladies, and after they explained their predicament, offered some aid. He invited them to a back room off a nearby alley to wait while he brought his private car around, suggesting that it would be a place of refuge to stay warm from the cool ocean air( only one of the actresses had a wrap).
About ten minutes after he had left them a masked man burst in brandishing a wicked looking blade. He demanded their ”jools” and “perses” than after receiving their valuables, had them strip down to their silky undergarments. He then bundled the lot and ran off. They could hear tires screeching off in the night. The dapper male never returned, and it was hours before their pitiful cries of help were heard by a passing vagrant, who after making sure they had nothing more of value, disappeared, than must have had a change of heart, for he summoned a patrolman to help them.
Two of the ladies had been wearing prop gowns and rhinestones, but the third, a minor relative of the New York Cabot family, had been waering her own designer gown(worth 2000 pounds) and her family diamonds( worth 55000 pounds sterling) So it was generally regarded that the ladies were scammed by a couple of professionals who had been out on the prowl for such prey, knew where to find it, and how to acquire her valuables.
Then, two weeks later another young lady, again unescorted, had decided to do a tour of the same riverfront establishments. She did so after attending a relatives wedding reception. She had met a rather handsome man while out drinking, and the pair had set off for a second bar when a masked man mugged them of their valuables. Including a 30000 lira ring she had worn, and 10000 Lira of other jewellery. Her friend dropped her off at the bar and went for help, disappearing in the night. Her description of the pair matched the ones who had robbed the Actresses.
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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from Left to right;
The illustrious Knight of Darkness.
Who has a black Captain Action body and boots. With Flash Gordon's gun.
The head and the suit being the new creation as of 1977. Obviously inspred by the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader.
Red then Blue Zeroids next.
Who are mostly based on the Zogg Zeroid who was included in the Zeroid Commander Action Set from 1969.
Differences being color. And Red and Blue have a little clear dome on top. Where Zogg had a rectangular head with six eye like holes. The right height for R2 D2 they are...
Then the green headed chromey robot is Zem- 21 . Which is the name for the original version of the Zeroid ship dubbed the Star Hawk for STAR Team !
He has a retooled JJ Armes body. Done up in a nice chrome color. Meant to be the C-3PO like character. With the chromed body .
Never had Red or the ship back in the day. ( Sold together ) But had the other 3. And loved them. Knight was my Darth Vader. As I never got a big scale version of DV :)
The Ideal Bar
1968 Atwood Avenue
53704
During the Covid-19 pandemic, many bars/restaurants are required by law to limit capacity limits of patrons, or utilize outdoor patio space if social distancing is not achievable inside. In spring of 2020, under Governor Tony Evers "Safer at Home" order, bars were required to shut down at the end of March through the end of May. These photos document this chapter in our city's history, some have been fortunate to make it through but for some this was the last call.
B28565
Linha: 329 - Bancários x Candelária. Linha municipal do Rio de Janeiro.
Cidade: Rio de Janeiro/RJ.
Simple one today.
Took my camera out with me but didn't get a chance to take a photo outdoors, so I did the next best thing. :) The sun is setting.
Just got back from the university recruitment fair where we were interviewed for jobs at the union. We were sorted into random groups (you just went to wherever had space), given a sheet with fifteen different items and asked to rank them according to priority if we were stranded out at sea. We were then given the most ideal set of answers and why each item was important. After that, we each had to fill in a questionnaire and have a short, one-to-one interview.
Did you know that shaving mirror and petroleum are both extremely important when stranded out at sea?
At "Antique Archaeology" (American Pickers) LeClaire, Iowa. Manufactured in DesMoines, Iowa by the R. O. Stutzman Co.
Texture: "Rust Never Sleeps" by SkeletalMess
Quite old really this, but I guess I now know an awful lot more about Photoshop to enable me to get something decent out of it. A bit of a texture, some Gaussian Blur and you get something quite evocative. Looe is a really nice place for a break, should you ever wish to go and take a look at Cornwall. There were views there I'd happily spend the rest of my life looking at. Some way right was a house on the market at around £1m and it needed gutting from top to bottom to make it livable - what some people will pay for a harbour view.
View Large and on Black. Looks more like a painting, less like a photo. It's supposed to look like a painting, and "over processed".
Watch out, because she's gunna get you. Ok folks, here you go: The first of two insane edits, edited with Corel Painter 9.5. I was going for the "painting" effect. I'm very proud. I think It turned out amazing. If anyone wants to see the originals let me know. Also, my bone structure an everything like that: Not edited. I really do have those type of cheeks, and those lips, and that shaped nose, and those shaped eyes. I just don't have the light green irises, the platinum hair, or the flawless skin. Unfortunately...
Also, this is my alter ego. I really feel if I cracked my personal shell, I would be this daring, dangerous little kitten. Too bad, because that's just my Ideal. I'm far too happy-go-lucky/ real person to pull this off. Oh, only in my dreams. At least I can look it for now. That's the best part about photography: You can just be YOU.
After some comments: I would really like to know how people can rave about photos that are so over processed, like HDR photos, and other 'shopped photos, but when it comes to a photo turned painting (mind you a majority digital artists works this way) or EVERY edit of some woman, gets so much crap. How is adding a dosage of fantasy so horrible in comparison to the extreme edits of fashion photograph? I guess I'm beginning to rant, but I honestly do appreciate the opinions. I just wish people would approach this from a digital artist's P.O.V. rather than a photographers. And by digital artist I don't mean someone who does post processing, and editing, I'm talking about someone who creates art from a photo. What ever though.
PS: When rating photos, don't put something like ':) I like!' with a rating of 4/10. Just an example. It not only pisses me off, but it pisses off EVERYONE who gets ratings like that.
La, la, la. Sorry for the rant, I'm in a pissy mood...
Anyways I was going for something a little elf/ fairy/ nymph ish.
Here is the original. It was dusk out, so I just used the built in flash.
Theater marquee on the main street of Clare, Michigan.
I'm really falling in love with my Autocord TLR again.Too bad about that lens flare (as an old SLR guy, this always trips me up). Still, the amount of detail in the original 6x6 Provia transparency just tickles me to pieces. In the jumbo size note the sign-maker's badge, "Artkraft Lima Ohio."
Il fiore non può essere paragonato ad alcun altro essere della natura; nulla vale a darne l'idea, servendo egli stesso da termine di confronto, di modello ideale a tutto ciò che si distingue per bellezza di forme, per eleganza e per grazia.
(Luigi Figuier)
Toyota dari Astra adalah mobil keluarga ideal terbaik Indonesia. Untuk melihat deskripsi tentang mobil ini silahkan kunjungi blog :
An Ebay find for $35 - but in great shape. I cleaned the body and hair. The goal is to eventually make a reproduction witch outfit in black (the original is red).
Many years ago there were one or two of these sold in a "rare" black dress with a supposed history that the dresses were changed to red because parents protested black was evil.
I am quite convinced now that there was never a black dress version, but several people dyed original red dresses black and sold them as "rare."