View allAll Photos Tagged INSCRUTABLE
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoHpSY3IoAI&list=RDSoHpSY3IoA...
How can it be permissible?
She compromise my principle, yeah, yeah
That kind of love is mythical
She's anything but typical
She's a craze you'd endorse
She's a powerful force
You're obliged to conform
When there's no other course
She used to look good to me
But now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Her loving is so powerful, huh!
It's simply unavoidable
The trend is irreversible
The woman is invincible
She's a natural law
And she leaves me in awe
She deserves the applause
I surrender because
She used to look good to me
But now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
(She's so fine
There's no tellin' where the money went)
Simply irresistible
(She's all mine, there's no other way to go)
She's unavoidable
I'm backed against the wall
She gives me feelings like I never felt before
I'm breaking promises
She's breaking every law
She used to look good to me
Now I find her
Simply irresistible
(She's so fine
There's no tellin' where the money went)
Simply irresistible
(She's all mine, there's no other way to go)
Her methods are inscrutable
The proof is irrefutable, ooh
She's so completely kissable, huh
Our lives are indivisible, yeah yeah
She's a craze you'd endorse
She's a powerful force
You're obliged to conform
When there's no other course
She used to look good to me
But now I find her
Simply irresistible
(She's so fine
There's no tellin' where the money went)
Simply irresistible
(She's all mine, there's no other way to go)
Simply irresistible
(She's so fine
There's no tellin' where the money went)
Simply irresistible
(She's all mine, there's no other way to go)
Simply irresistible!
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular name
tree of yin and yang
tree of darkness and of light
every path one walks
every council one desires
this i ching of trees
reveals that all swirls within
Standing just out of Piazza del Popolo, looking up along Viale Gabriele D’Annunzio in the direction of Villa Borghese, admiring the roadside Romad statues and line of inscrutable sphinxes
Roma – the eternal city of Rome www.turismoroma.it/?lang=en, Italy
stunning and rare / on flowery bed /
self-unaware / a flare of hair / just sideways bare /a piercing thread / and spellbound stare / to cure the dead / and wed the fair
//These words suggested by the inscrutable links of friendship serve to add Janos Kepes’s personal verbal articulation to Richard Wohlfart’s photographs, a single if relevant item of an infinite set of possible resonances.//
The Inscrutable Cat
She crouches, a silent golden sphinx,
And thinks and drowses and yawns and thinks . . .
Of cosmic riddles old as Osiris?
Behold her there like a fur-swatched heiress,
A jewel-eyed hedonist whose mind
Is filled with the thoughts of her occult kind:
Herself and her own desires. In short,
Will I let her stay on the davenport
Or put her out? And dare she try
To capture a goldfish by-and-by?
Veiled and inscrutable, she hunches
And ponders profoundly how soon lunch is.
Georgie Starbuck Gailbraith
Il gatto
Che dolce profumo esala da quel pelo
biondo e bruno! Com’ero tutto profumato
una sera che l’accarezzai
una volta, una soltanto!
È lui il mio genio tutelare!
Giudica, governa e ispira
ogni cosa nel suo impero;
è una fata? O forse un dio?
Quando i miei occhi, attratti
come da calamita, dolci si volgono
a quel gatto che amo
e guardo poi in me stesso,
che meraviglia il fuoco
di quelle pallide pupille,
di quei chiari fanali, di quei viventi opali
che fissi mi contemplano!
Charles Baudelaire
"Our point of departure is not the sight of the shrouded and inscrutable; from the endless mist of the unknown we would, indeed, be unable to derive an understanding of the known. It is the tension of the known and the unknown, of the common and the holy, of the nimble and ineffable, that fills the moments of our insights."
-Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man, pg 107
Living room window grab-shot.
Ravenously hungry or just after a decent bit of nosh, those gulls never look any different.
The persevering togetherness of the child and the dog, blushing faith being the governing force of the scene, the animal bowing to divine power while she staring into the remote essence of all and everything, confused and confident at the shining beauty of some indescribable order.
//These words suggested by the inscrutable links of friendship serve to add Janos Kepes’s personal verbal articulation to Richard Wohlfart’s photographs, a single if relevant item of an infinite set of possible resonances.//
All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written explicit permission All rights reserved. Copyright 2020 © Mark Lee
An painted door with no handle and an inscrutable message found in the beer garden of the Crown & Sceptre pub.
Hi... Are you there?... Just testing my patience?... No?... I can wait... Well... I need you now... Please... Oh, no... You can’t take that long... My God... Please...Oh, come on, now... Stop killing me... Say something... All right... All right then... I don’t care... Bye
These words suggested by the inscrutable links of friendship serve to add Janos Kepes’s personal verbal articulation to Richard Wohlfart’s photographs, a single if relevant item of an infinite set of possible resonances.
Your tongue drips
the notes
of beginnings,
of explanations,
of reasons
in this unseasonable
spring
rushing forward
from springs,
powerful,
cold.
Stop babbling.
Just wash the feet
of your sinister
sister,
twisted,
writhing
in her knots
resistant
to the cheap shots
you take
at her.
Rave about
the savior
or about Molly,
by golly.
Euphoria is
euphoria
Regardless of
the source.
And god, is god
of course.
So speak
descending strands
of conversations
in a language
inscrutable
as melody
in Ornette's
Science Fiction.
Brave gaze with shining eyes facing, like a field marshaless, the powerful hosts of the enemy, pondering, come what may, we’ll do what honesty demands and thereupon have nothing to fear, with but a slight trace of plea to Providence for a minor favour if that’s not too much to ask.
//These words suggested by the inscrutable links of friendship serve to add Janos Kepes’s personal verbal articulation to Richard Wohlfart’s photographs, a single if relevant item of an infinite set of possible resonances.//
This inscrutable duo appear from time to time on this stream. There’s something a bit surreal about them. Perhaps they are waiting for Alice to show up.
- - - - -
Created for the Crazy Tuesday theme, A PAIR OF.
In these dark times where reason is (almost) totally lost and we are more and more supinely commanded by dictatorial governments (especially here in Italy!), with continuous new impositions that generate phobia, deaths, psychological and educational discomforts, suicides and poverty, social hardships of all kinds, and when we are even no longer allowed to breathe freely outside, it is good to never lose the healthy habit of observing the cosmos... “useless activity” one can say, probably yes, probably no, I certainly do not wish to have the last word on the sacred relationship that each of us has with the infinite, the inscrutable, the Mystery, which has always surrounded the human being.
Fact that the more I observe the cosmos, at night, in the mountains, the more I understand it is useless to be afraid, much less angry. This terror, so professionally instilled up by cheap people, because they cannot see beyond their own squalid power interests, does not deserve any consideration. The beauty of the cosmos will remain, those people will pass. “Remember that all through history, there have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they seem invincible. But in the end, they always fall. Always.” Mahatma Gandhi.
If compared to the previous shot this photograph shows more in detail the Dents d'Ambin (3.372 m).
Clearly present in the sky the trails of light left by the stars due to the Earth's rotation during the long exposure.
The brightest band near the Dents summits is caused by the Milky Way.
YouTube channel “Organo Santuario della Consolata”
YouTube channel “ALPS pictures & tales”
Instagram @roberto.bertero
_____________________
©Roberto Bertero, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
A few bird calls chimed in from time to time, but otherwise I recall we floated in silence for a while watching the breeze gently sway the Spanish moss and appreciating the arrival of this lovely soft light on a late autumn afternoon in the mysterious and beautiful bayou environments around Caddo Lake, near Uncertain, Texas.
I think probably the first thing we all learned as we got interested in landscape photography (how ever many years ago) is that the light is dramatically better, and the landscape often spectacularly more colorful and beautiful, during what most call the golden hours--the hour or so nearest each to sunrise and sunset. I don't know if anyone else feels this way, but one interesting perception I've noted over the years is how abrupt the transition can feel between the softer, more beautiful light of a "golden hour", and the harsh light of day. One minute we can be griping that the light's too harsh and the scene too flat, but then just a minute later you look up again and everything's different, and seemingly much moreso than it should be given how little time had passed since your earlier perception.
That is one of my recollections from this afternoon on the bayou. A beautiful place at any time of day, it became magical in an instant when the light angle fell below that minute threshold. It was more than the light, of course. It was also the shadows, differently revealed with that lower light. And in these often narrow bayous branching off of Caddo Lake and winding through swampland cypress forests far and wide, much of the allure is found in the inscrutable depths of shadowed and moss-laden trees behind the warm brush of light.
Thanks for viewing!
Some nice light and shadow here. I really need to carry my tripod more often. I got some other potentially good shots that morning which were spoiled by hand movement even with VR turned on. (I could have used auto-ISO for faster shutter speeds, but didn't think to turn it on).
Addendum: Thanks to my friends, contacts, viewers and Flickr's inscrutable Interestingness Algorithm, this photo was Explored yesterday, September 14 at # 130.
From the archives: a photo of a barracks building at Minidoka War Relocation Center in Idaho.
During World War II, there was a shortage of building materials. Like Internment Camp buildings at Manzanar, these structures originally had only tarpaper as siding. This one has been upgraded.
After the War Relocation Authority (WRA) released US citizens of Japanese ancestry, and Japanese nationals, to return to the community, these buildings became the desire of local farmers. They were purchased and reused locally. Waste not want not. They were hauled to nearby ranches. Some became storage sheds. Others were reused as chicken coops. That caused a few of the barracks to be saved from destruction over a period of decades.
Eventually, I am told, the National Park Service purchased a few of these structures from local farmers and returned them to the prison camp site.
People who lived during World War II have explained that the internment of US citizens without due process was a necessary wartime evil. Not my opinion but — apparently — a lot of people were thinking this way at the time. The President — or his advisers — was among them.
I've been to WRA Japanese internment camp sites including Poston, Minidoka, Tulelake, Heart Mountain, and Manzanar. I've also been to a couple of the Department of Justice camp sites. Many people of Japanese ancestry who lived in the San Francisco Bay Area were sent to the WRA camp at Heart Mountain, Wyoming. It must've been quite a shock to be sent from the mild climate of the Bay Area to remote Wyoming.
Because the Italians were Caucasian, white officials were convinced they could predict the Italians' behavior, but not that of the 'inscrutable' Japanese. This argument proved to be the central racist motif of the relocation and internment story. It was used primarily to justify Japanese internment, not only by local functionaries in cities like Madera, but by top government officials in California such as Earl Warren, and by some in Washington, including Secretary of War Henry Stimpson.
— Stephen Fox from The Unknown Internment: An Oral History of the Relocation of Italian Americans During World War II
Please do not copy this image.
Journalism Grade Image.
Source: 4,200x1,900 16-bit TIF file.
Coledale | NSW | A u s t r a l i a
There is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence and as inscrutable as Destiny. Joseph Conrad, The Heart of Darkness
We never forget the people we loved,
because they always remain with us;
something binds them to us in an indissoluble way,
even if they are no longer there.
I learned that there are impossible loves, unfinished loves,
loves that could have been and were not.
I've learned that a burning trail is better, even if it leaves a scar:
better a fire than a winter's heart.
I have learned, and in this my mother is right,
that it is possible to love two people at the same time.
Sometimes it happens: and it is useless to resist, deny, or fight.
I learned that love is not just sex: it is much, much more.
I have learned that love cannot read or write.
That in our feelings we are guided by mysterious laws,
maybe destiny or maybe a mirage,
however something inscrutable and inexplicable.
Because, deep down, there is never a reason why you fall in love. It just happens.
(Ferzan Özpetek)
Vergänglichkeit, Imperfektion, Unvollständig, Natürlichkeit, Simplizität, Unergründlich (Fotografischer Code des Wabi-Sabi nach Manuel Kniepe)
Hausaufgabe Fotoklicke
Transience, Imperfection, Incomplete, Naturalness, Simplicity, Inscrutable (Photographic code of Wabi-Sabi according to Manuel Kniepe)
Homework photogroup
“This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.”
- Thomas Dekker
As some of you may have noticed I'm having a very slight colourful streak ; ) It's the weather.. English summers when done properly are wonderful. It's been hot and sunny and the sun doesn't set til nearly 10pm which is so great when it comes to catching my 365 shot after work.. I just want to flood everything with so much oomph! Haha the tide will turn soon : )
In other news, I'm going to the US in a few weeks!! It's the first time I'll be flying over the Atlantic and I'm soooo excited. I'll be visiting family in Chicago and on the way back spending a few days in NEW YORK!!!! :D Can anyone recommend a decently priced but also very nice hotel?
Hope you're all having a very nice weekend! :D
Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon
Sony A7R II + Canon 17-40
Síguenos en nuestro BLOG: perezfotografia.wordpress.com/
Continuing a tradition of one, a quick post to illustrate where/what Savinja is to friends asking about our second daughter's name, and again to explain a recent absence to Flickr contacts!
Per TS Eliot's theory on the naming of cats (see below), we felt she, like Jessica, would need "a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified..." to her day to day Sophie.
The Savinja river starts way up at the end of Logarksa Dolina, shown here, and the stream flows just left of the shot. A few of my other pictures show how it rushes under a crust of snow, even through caves of snow further up the valley.
The photo itself is something of a poster child for my general Slovenia experience - walk out somewhere engaging in the light, shoot, then walk back in utter terror once night has fallen. Originally I shot this with black and white in mind, and processed it as such, yet in the final stages I flicked back to colour briefly and so liked this eerie oil paint palette I thought I'd take a risk and leave it as is.
Thanks to Ursa and family at Lenar Farm with whom we'll hopefully be staying again next summer in Logarska Dolina, who kindly confirmed that Savinja didn't have any unintended or strange meanings in Slovene. If you're heading to Slovenia and fancy waking up looking at this, I can recommend the Lenar Farm as one of the best places a person can stay anywhere on Earth!
And Sophie Savinja Howarth she would have been, but born on my late Grandmother Verona's birthday, she earned an additional name as a bonus. We'd in fact discussed Verona as a name previously, and only stopped short on the basis that we didn't know the city. Given the specious day of her birth, however, we took the view that knowing the force of personality was justification enough to trump any mere city.
Anyway - thank you to all the kind well wishers on email and Facebook.
For reference;
The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
Hallowed be thy name, at the base of the steps of your unchallengeable authority... that casual posture! Those specs, unyieldingly repelling our humble specters -- let them all advertise your doubtless glory and as well as our despicable nothingness.
//These words suggested by the inscrutable links of friendship serve to add Janos Kepes’s personal verbal articulation to Richard Wohlfart’s photographs, a single if relevant item of an infinite set of possible resonances.//
Bison graze and rest in the grassland and forested habitat of the Lake Audy Bison Enclosure at Riding Mountain National Park, Manitoba, Canada.
This is Treaty 2 Territory, land of the Métis, Anishinabewaki ᐊᓂᔑᓈᐯᐗᑭ and Očeti Šakówiŋ (Sioux).
This herd of Plains Bison are descendants of animals reintroduced to the area in the 1940's. While they live within a 500 hectare fenced enclosure, which is divided into two sections (winter and summer pastures), other animals in the park are able to pass through intentionally created "jumps" and "holes" in the fencing, which means it is common to also see deer, bears, and even elk in this prairie habitat. The wolves of Riding Mountain National Park have only rarely entered the enclosure, but there are plans to improve their access to the bison herd to encourage a more natural cycle of predation and herd management.
Camera setting data is inscrutable because this was shot in Manual mode with an old zoom lens...
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I’m heading over to a little darker side of Common Tern parenting today. My friends and I were elated to find this brand new family of Common Terns in June 2017. See the previous two posts for more images from this day. We watched in awe as the tiny terns scooted about and parents diligently brought food and brooded, our hearts filling to the brim. The mood changed on a dime and, without warning, a parent began attacking its tiny young nestling. We gaped in horror as we watched this confusing display. Throughout two days we witnessed this from multiple tern families and I am still unclear about the behavior. My initial thought was the adults educating their young about keeping within their own small region of the larger communal territory. Or, possibly, the young hatchling had accepted food from another tern, not one of its parents. Whatever the reason, I’m certain it is not out of cruelty, but out of some inscrutable instinct deemed suitable for raising their young to become successful adults. A short time after each attack, the tiny tern would push under its mother’s breast as she tenderly welcomed it back into her warm embrace. If you’d like to read more about my thoughts on perceptions of cruelty in nature, please view the article on my website at www.terifranzenphotography.com/perceptions-of-cruelty/
Here, you may see an early morning view along a winding, sylvan path, as you marvel at the sunlit winter trees of the woodland beyond the garden fence, or, you may see only condensation, and nod your head sagely, as you contemplate the perils of single-glazed windows in an old victorian house after a cold winter's night.
The choice depends on your outlook: Is your glass half full, or half empty?
--
Is this how a fly might see? Compound eyes are somewhat inscrutable from a layman's perspective, but one would hope that they (the flies) are able to resolve a little more detail than this.
--
The inversion of the view in the droplets make them seem as if they are little pits, frost-carved into surface of the glass. If that were so, how many frosty evenings might it take for those pits became holes?
--
Despite my love of symmetry, I can't help but wonder why the manufacturers of frosted glass don't have a go at this sort of pattern too. Then, after the windows are replaced, we might, perhaps, get a warm, nostalgic feeling for those cold, frosty nights...
Perhaps they do, those manufacturers, and I just haven't noticed.