View allAll Photos Tagged INSCRUTABLE
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I'm finally home, guys. And it looks like that summer is shortly over which reminds me of my untouched homework exercises; but we don't like the inscrutable future, do we? Anyway, I'm now concentrating on my project, my friends, on movies (lot of movies), and - ultimately - homework.
Oh, and I need to tell you this. I was in an ambuscade... and we were lurking some wild animals - seriously -, out in the wild. And guess what: we saw a deer, a boar and a bear. It was soo exciting (except the part that we had to stay silent)... and the bear was just sitting in front of me and was eating the corn. Ahhh, what a buzz! :)
Plum Blossoms .
April 2007.
Nikon FM 55mm f/2.8 Micro Nikkor.
Kodak TMax in TMaxRS 1:4
This image, I think, was inscrutably enhanced by the deterioration that's afflicted many of my TMax negs from this period.
A late afternoon radio interview and a split-second left turn helped me to see this epic mural up close, at last. It’s so striking, I don’t know how anyone rides past it without toppling off their bicycle.
Stare-Down, a show I curated at Revelry Gallery in Louisville's arts district, opened last night and runs through November 8. It is one of 65 photo shows taking part in the 2015 Louisville Photo Biennial. I chose the photos from a flickr group I started a few years ago called The Level Gaze.
Curator's Statement
It's rude to stare, we're told, but we all do it. The woman on the bus with the unusual scar holds our attention as long as we think that no one — especially the woman herself — catches us in the act. We track the approaching stranger and then avert our eyes when he gets close. We stare at the mirror, our selfies, our reflection in a plate glass window. And we gaze, rapturously, at the tube and the silver screen, immersing ourselves for hours at a time.
This exhibit, like the movies, invites your unblinking attention. And these captivating subjects will stare right back. They weren't chosen for their beauty (though some are quite beautiful). Despite their inscrutable gazes, they ask you into their lives — to wonder, to understand, to see them as they see themselves.
The 23 photographers in this show come from 11 nations, and their work represents a variety of photographic styles. As well as formal portraiture, you'll see street shooting (both indoors and out), environmental portraiture, and one self-portrait. Some were carefully composed; others were taken very quickly -- and expertly.
Photographers are incorrigible starers. Cameras give one license, after all. But sometimes photographers find themselves confronted with a penetrating gaze in return. Not a bad thing at all, as these photos attest.
Photographers in the show
Jorge Arteaga
Sergi Bernal
Michael Brohm
Mariano Del Valle
Andy Duncan
Mark Forman
Peter Gesierich
Dave Glass
Joey Harrison
Johan Jehlbo
Warren Kirk
Sara LaFleur-Vetter
Zun Lee
Dan Mitchell-Innes
Joyce Moore
Chris Moxey
Aslihan Mumcu
Chuck Patch
Mike Peters
Jack Radcliffe
Roland Ramanan
Michael Smith
Jonathan Steelandt
Pierre Wayser
My great thanks to the photographers who agreed to be in the show, to Mo Howe, for providing wall space and being such a good collaborator, and to Paul Paletti and his assistant Deena Fitzpatrick, for all they've done to make the Biennial so successful.
This cracks me up.
It's as if Toby is staring at some inscrutable piece of Modern Art.
121 Pictures in 2021 - #62. National Umbrella Day (Feb 10th)
100x in 2021 : 16
If I told you I was standing pressed up against the cabinets on the left, just out of view, waving a Cookie, would you think any less of us?
Ivory Head of Male Saint
18th Century
Ivory with Kamagong base
head:
H: 8" (20 cm)
L: 5 1/2" (14 cm)
W: 5" (13 cm)
left hand:
H: 5 1/4" (13 cm)
L: 1 1/4" (3 cm)
W: 3" (8 cm)
right hand:
H: 3 1/2" (9 cm)
L: 2 1/4" (6 cm)
W: 2" (5 cm)
total size with base:
H: 19 1/2" (50 cm)
L: 9" (23 cm)
W: 7" (18 cm)
Starting Price: ₱ 400,000
Provenance: Manila workshop
A very sensitively carved head of a male santo, with a skillfully articulated beard. The face is gaunt and lacking in the aristocratic "fullness" of later 19th-century ivory heads. But the gauntness only adds to the otherworldly elegance and focused serenity of the expression. Again, we have an example of the Oriental reserve, the inscrutable face worn in the presence of others. This detached, distant expression has led many to say that Filipino ivories, and santos in general, lack the effusive drama and heightened emotion of their European counterparts; or to the theory that these early ivories were carved only by Chinese converts.
It is difficult to essay a guess on exactly who is portrayed. Such a piece would have been meant for a processional "santo de vestir", an image in the ornate style, meant to be vested. Once mounted on a wooden body and dressed in the appropriate vestments with the correct attributes, the identity of the saint would have emerged. But it is clear that a wig would have been used to complete this male santo. Could he be Joseph, the husband of Mary? Perhaps one of the evangelists? Maybe even the carver of the piece did not know exactly who he was portraying. Many such large heads began their processional careers ,as one particular saint. With time , depending on the whims of the owner or the demands of the liturgical seasons, the identity could very easily change. (Floy Quintos)
Lot 87 of the Leon Gallery auction on September 13, 2025. For more information and to place an online bid, please go to www.leon-gallery.com and www.leonexchange.com.
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[...] What was it? Had she heard right? From the shadowy depths in a quiet voice came to her:
"Have no fear. I will not hurt "
Kyrasa stammered:
"But .. I do not see you. Where are you? "
"I'm here. I watch you for a long time since you came here in my kingdom. "
"You watched - me"?
"Yes. And I believe that you deserve my protection. Your kindness and generosity will be rewarded."
"But who are you?"
"Look closely, you'll recognize me!"
Kyrasa stretched her senses like a bow, and there she saw. Immediately before her a big beautiful woman appeared in mink and gorgeous jewelry, which rang with every movement and gently melodic .. Her face was stern and inscrutable, the searching eyes saw and understood everything.
"Who are you?" Kyrasa whispered, confused.
"A legitimate question. I am the mistress of this spirit of the mountain, this cave. "
"A ghost?"
"Call it what you want. But I've lived here for ages. "
"For ages?"
"Yes. Only her bipeds are mortal. I pity her deeply. "
"So you're immortal ....! That's wonderful! I would also like it. "
"This is an understandable desire. But on Earth, in this middle world, everything is short-lived, everything passes, must die and be resurrected the old is replaced by new. Only this cycle is eternal! "
"In your presence is all bright, so calm, I no longer fear me from this place."
"Of course, here the rules of my spirit."
"But ... This is all so strange, so incomprehensible ...".
"Do not worry, with time you will understand many things. Now we met us. Go now, you have to go back into the white light. Go and fulfill your destiny. "
"But I ..."
"Take courage, fear not. I will always be with you. But mark my words my advice: Keep your good heart oneself. Let it always be open to something new, for the good. Was always trying to see as much as possible and to understand, then you will get the third eye, the eye of wisdom. And then you, the truth revealed, you will not only be bipeds, but a HUMAN." [...]
.
.
Was war das gewesen? Hatte sie sich verhört? Aus der dämmrigen Tiefe drang eine ruhige Stimme zu ihr:
„Habe keine Angst. Ich tue dir nichts“
Kyrasa stammelte:
„Aber .. Ich sehe Euch nicht. Wo seid Ihr“?
„Ich bin hier. Ich beobachte dich schon lange, seit ihr hierher in mein Reich gekommen seid.“
„Ihr beobachtet – mich“?
„Ja. Und ich habe mich davon überzeugt, dass du meinen Schutz verdient hast. Deine Güte und Großherzigkeit sollen belohnt werden.“
Aber wer seid ihr?“
„Sieh genau hin, dann wirst du mich erkennen!“
Kyrasa spannte ihre Sinne wie einen Bogen, und da sah sie. Unmittelbar vor ihr erschien eine große wunderschöne Frau in Nerzfellen und prachtvollen Schmuck, der bei jeder Bewegung sanft und melodisch klingelte.. Ihr Gesicht aber war streng und unergründlich, die durchdringenden Augen sahen und verstanden alles.
„Wer seid Ihr“? flüsterte Kyrasa verwirrt.
„Eine angemessene Frage. Ich bin die Geistherrin dieses Berges, dieser Höhle.“
„Ein Geist ?“
„Nenne es wie du willst. Doch ich lebe hier seit Ewigkeiten.“
„Seit Ewigkeiten?“
„Ja. Nur ihr Zweibeiner seid sterblich. Ihr dauert mich zutiefst.“
„Also seid Ihr unsterblich ….! Das ist herrlich! Ich wäre es auch gerne.“
„Das ist ein verständlicher Wunsch. Doch auf der Erde, in dieser mittleren Welt, ist alles von kurzer Dauer, alles vergeht, muss sterben und wieder auferstehen, das Alte wird von Neuem abgelöst. Nur dieser Kreislauf ist ewig!“
„In eurer Gegenwart ist alles hell, so ruhig, ich fürchte mich gar nicht mehr vor diesem Ort“.
„Natürlich, den hier herrscht mein Geist.“
„Aber …Das alles ist so seltsam, so unverständlich…“.
„Mach dir nichts draus, mit der Zeit wirst du vieles verstehen. Nun haben wir uns also bekannt gemacht. Geh jetzt, du mußt zurückkehren ins weiße Licht. Geh und erfülle dein Schicksal.“
„Aber ich …“
„Nur Mut, fürchte dich nicht. Ich werde immer bei dir sein. Doch merke dir meinen Rat: Bewahre dir dein gutes Herz. Lass es immer offen sein für das Neue, für das Gute. Sei immer bemüht so viel wie möglich zu sehen und zu verstehen, dann wirst du das dritte Auge erlangen, das Auge der Weisheit. Und dann wird sich dir die Wahrheit, offenbaren, du wirst nicht nur Zweibeiner sein, sondern ein Mensch.“
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Source: Ivan Gogolev-Kyndyl, "Das dritte Auge". Drei Leben einer Seele.
|| German: Ivan Gogolev || English: Ivan Gogolev || English- Extract: "The third Eye" ||
|| German: Schischkino || FlickrSet: Rockpaintings of Schischkino ||
San Gimignano, Tuscany, Italy. Above a steep roadway paved with bricks, a window filled with stone.
curated in: www.flickr.com/photos/87571876@N02/galleries/721576402391...
A summer storm rolls in over...
R.A.D. (Rail Arts District)
Avondale Estates, Georgia.
23 June 2019.
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▶ "The Rail Arts District is a thriving artist area and collective with galleries, theaters, studios, classrooms, and performance spaces, at the rail line where Avondale meets Decatur."
▶ "8488," however, remains inscrutable.
****************
▶ Photo by Yours For Good Fermentables.com.
— Follow on Twitter: @Cizauskas.
— Follow on Facebook: YoursForGoodFermentables.
— Follow on Instagram: @tcizauskas.
▶ For a larger image, type 'L' (without the quotation marks).
▶ Camera: Olympus Pen E-PL1.
---> Lens: Canon 50mm ƒ/1.4 FD
---> Focal length: 50 mm
---> Aperture: ƒ/8
---> Shutter speed: 1/2000
---> ISO: 200
---> Fotodiox adaptor
▶ Commercial use requires explicit permission, as per Creative Commons.
Mel (who identifies as faux Blythe) came to live with us in early 2017 but Quinn who joined us a few months later was the first to be manufactured by Takara in 2003-2004.
Mel: What's up Quinn? You look worried?
Quinn: I think I might be coming down with something. I heard Jefa say I had EBL mold.
Mel: I never heard of that. I'm sure you misheard her.
Quinn: I don't think so. She said YOU had RBL mold. She said my eyes were smaller and rounder and my face wasn't as shiny as yours. But what really worried me was that she said it was easier to get into your head than mine. I know I can be unbending, but you're not even a little bit gullible. In fact, you're positively inscrutable.
Mel: Now I'm getting worried.
Quinn: She did say I had nicer hair.
Previously appeared as
BaD 29 August 2021: Bean Bag Brooding
BaD 16 April 2019: Dialogue in Pajamas
BaD 9 October 2017: Mold
♻️ 💜 ♻️
Praise and Worship the Return of God | "Gospel Choir 19th Performance"
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/chinese-choir-episode-19-1/
Praise and Worship the Return of God | " gospel Choir 19th Performance"
Under a starry, quiet and peaceful night sky, a group of Christians earnestly awaiting the return of the Savior sing and dance to cheerful music. When they hear the joyful news "God has returned" and "God has uttered new words", they are surprised and excited. They think: "God has returned? He has already appeared?" With curiosity and uncertainty, one after another, they step into the journey of seeking God's new words. In their arduous seeking, some people are questioning while others simply accept it. Some people look on without comment, while others make suggestions and search for answers in the Bible—they look but in the end it is fruitless…. Just when they become discouraged, a witness brings them a copy of the Age of Kingdom Bible, and they are deeply attracted to the words in the book. What kind of book is this really? Have they actually found the new words that God has uttered in that book? Have they welcomed the appearance of God?
Every Nation Worships the Practical God
1. "This time, God comes to do work not in a spiritual body but in a very ordinary one. Not only is it the body of God’s second incarnation, but also the body in which God returns. It is a very ordinary flesh. In Him, you cannot see anything that is different from others, but you can receive from Him the truths you have never heard before, receive from Him the truths you have never heard before. This insignificant flesh is the embodiment of all the words of truth from God, that which undertakes God’s work in the last days, and an expression of the whole of God’s disposition for man to come to know. Did you not desire greatly to see the God in heaven? Did you not desire greatly to understand the God in heaven? Did you not desire greatly to see the destination of mankind? He will tell you all these secrets that no one can ever tell you, and He will even tell you of the truths that you do not understand. He is your gate into the kingdom, and your guide into the new age.
2. Such an ordinary flesh holds many unfathomable mysteries. His deeds may be inscrutable to you, but the goal of all the work He does is sufficient for you to see that He is not a simple flesh as man believes. For He represents the will of God as well as the care shown by God toward mankind in the last days........."
Terms of Use en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html
The Incom Corporation's T-44 K-Wing fighter was developed as a multi-role deep space, orbital and high atmospheric fighter. Commissioned by the Jedi Order, the intent was to make it as easy as possible to fly (using highly vectorable thrusters and multiple control surfaces - both inertial and aerodynamic, managed by a direct bio-limbic interface) to allow the Jedi pilots to focus their full Force powers on weapons targeting and the wider tactical direction of large fighter squadrons.
So easy and reliable it was to fly, it was decided to test it initially on Podludix Zaa, the Jedi Order's most incompetent pilot. Yoda himself said, "Very simple to pilot, this fighter is. Pilot it, anyone can if Pokludix Zaa can. Yes, hhmmmmm".
When Pokludix was finally recovered from the mangled wreckage of the prototype K-Wing (in the fateful few seconds after takeoff when he lost control, he forgot to hit the eject button), he had suffered only minor injuries. Fortunately his remarkably unexpressive face and inscrutable fixed smile remained unscarred and his successful Corellian Poker career continued unabated.
Built for the Alphabet Fighter tournament at FBTB
Taken on 19 September 2017 and uploaded 7 January 2025.
This is clearly an arrangement of pieces of glass laid on a wooden background, very artistically. It's a very stern face, one I would struggle to defy. I wonder if it's me, as I would have been had I been tasked with examining certain politicians - politicians ! bah ! - concerning certain things wot they said and did, when they shouldn't have. I mean, well. It's just not right, is it ?
[DSC_1243g]
Batman: You're playing with fire, Alice. If you can destroy the warp, you should.
Alice: We have never encouraged the opening of the warp. We've always been interested in the little door. That has proven impossible thus far to force open or unlock. But for that reason we haven't destroyed the book. And since the book is there, the warp comes open again. By the way, I'm looking forward to my discussion with Ash about that.
Batman: And people are placed in grave danger as pawns in this match.
Alice: Okay, chess, very good. Unger wants to conquer, destroy and subjugate. That's what he does. Right now we have him in a position where he can't do that. It's like in chess where we have him in a corner. He actually backed himself into it in the last war. As long as he's in his palace he's not out hurting people. His palace is a pocket dimension from the book. The only way out of his palace is through the book. The little door. And if he comes through that, we've got him. But, if we destroy the book, the dimensional structure is destroyed as well and Unger flies through the rift to come out in some random place to, again, kill and destroy. It would take us ages to find him.
Batman: And you think he'll open the little door now that the warp is open.
Alice: He's not going to pass up this opportunity. The open warp is his source of troops. He'll come through at some point. We'll get him.
Batman: And he's watching and listening to us discuss this right now.
Alice: Yes. I've always wanted him to know. We're going to get him. There's nothing he can do about it.
There are a few moments of silence. Alice and Snow White watch the Batman. His face remains inscrutable but he is clearly thinking. Finally...
Batman: Have Commander Asuka coordinate with Batgirl. We each have information the other doesn't. I want us all seeing the same things. I also want each of your Defender teams to have a Justice Leaguer on board.
Alice: The Defender teams are trained to function as-
Batman: It's what we want.
Alice: ... Snow?
Snow White: It sounds reasonable, my Queen. In the first war the Justice League arrived after it had started, and there was much confusion. I believe Batman's ideas can bind us together and clear such confusion.
Alice: ... Fine. We have ten Defender combat units. Send your ten over and we'll assign them.
Batman: ... Agreed.
In the unquiet shadows of this forsaken place, where the angles of reality seem to contort in mockery of geometric law, one finds the decayed vestiges of human creation. The stairs, charred by the touch of aeons and the neglect of those who once tread upon them, spiral upwards in a helix that might have been designed by the inhabitants of a darker, twisted dimension.
The walls, swathed in the crumbling vestiges of brick and mortar, bear the scars of unspoken calamities, their once vivid hues leached away to a ghostly pallor. The ceilings loom overhead, a canopy of oppressive concrete, heavy with the weight of years and the dust of desolation.
Through the gaps in this decrepit cocoon, one can glimpse the sterile light that dares not fully penetrate this domain of gloom. It is a liminal space, caught between the bleak realms of abandonment and the inscrutable infinity of the cosmos, where one might easily imagine the eldritch whispers of time echoing through the void. Here, in the silence that is not silence, the air seems to hold its breath, as if anticipating some unnamed dread that lurks just beyond the reach of sight.
“What happens when a creature who cannot die takes over the body of a man who cannot live? Here is the exciting story of Haroot the Fallen, who knew everything in heaven, earth or hell – except how to live in today’s changing world!”
Also includes a short story by Jack London, “The Shadow and the Flash.”
“Can the moving out of line of even the smallest atom of the inscrutable pattern of the Universe, bring down the whole great edifice in instantaneous, crashing holocaust?”
I didn’t get much sleep last night
thinking about underwear
Have you ever stopped to consider
underwear in the abstract
When you really dig into it
some shocking problems are raised
Underwear is something
we all have to deal with
Everyone wears
some kind of underwear
The Pope wears underwear I hope
The Governor of Louisiana
wears underwear
I saw him on TV
He must have had tight underwear
He squirmed a lot
Underwear can really get you in a bind
You have seen the underwear ads
for men and women
so alike but so different
Women’s underwear holds things up
Men’s underwear holds things down
Underwear is one thing
men and women have in common
Underwear is all we have between us
You have seen the three-color pictures
with crotches encircled
to show the areas of extra strength
and three-way stretch
promising full freedom of action
Don’t be deceived
It’s all based on the two-party system
which doesn’t allow much freedom of choice
the way things are set up
America in its Underwear
struggles thru the night
Underwear controls everything in the end
Take foundation garments for instance
They are really fascist forms
of underground government
making people believe
something but the truth
telling you what you can or can’t do
Did you ever try to get around a girdle
Perhaps Non-Violent Action
is the only answer
Did Gandhi wear a girdle?
Did Lady Macbeth wear a girdle?
Was that why Macbeth murdered sleep?
And that spot she was always rubbing—
Was it really in her underwear?
Modern anglosaxon ladies
must have huge guilt complexes
always washing and washing and washing
Out damned spot
Underwear with spots very suspicious
Underwear with bulges very shocking
Underwear on clothesline a great flag of freedom
Someone has escaped his Underwear
May be naked somewhere
Help!
But don’t worry
Everybody’s still hung up in it
There won’t be no real revolution
And poetry still the underwear of the soul
And underwear still covering
a multitude of faults
in the geological sense—
strange sedimentary stones, inscrutable cracks!
If I were you I’d keep aside
an oversize pair of winter underwear
Do not go naked into that good night
And in the meantime
keep calm and warm and dry
No use stirring ourselves up prematurely
‘over Nothing’
Move forward with dignity
hand in vest
Don’t get emotional
And death shall have no dominion
There’s plenty of time my darling
Are we not still young and easy
Don’t shout
Standard 10 (1954-60) Engine 948cc S4 OHV Production 172500
Registration Number KDB 782 (Stockport)
STANDARD SET
www.flickr.com/photos/45676495@N05/sets/72157623722503183...
The Standard 8 and 10 were designed by Vic Hammond, as Standards answer to the Austin A30 and Morris Minor. With three bearing engines, coil independant front suspension and a hypoid rear end.
The 10 is a larger engined version of the Standard 8 but with a plated grille instead of the bomb crater style, drop windows and external boot access. Phase II from 1957 have plated side trim, a mesh grille and were available with optional two pedal Standrive, and/or with overdrive.
An estate (station wagon) version, the Companion, was launched in June 1955 becoming one of the first British estate cars to have rear-passenger doors rather than the two-door "van" arrangement used by the Ford Squire and Hillman Husky
As well as in Coventry Tens were manufactured overseas in Australia and India, in Australia they were sold as the Standard Cadet, with 10s exported to Canada gaining the two tone finish of the Standard Pennant were sold as Triumph Tens, in Sweden as the Standard Vangaurd Junior and the US as Triumph TR 10
A Ten saloon tested by the British magazine The Motor in 1954 had a top speed of 69.0 mph (111.0 km/h) and could accelerate from 0-60 mph (97 km/h) in 38.3 seconds. A fuel consumption of 34.4 miles per imperial gallon (8.2 L/100 km; 28.6 mpg‑US) was recorded. The test car cost £580 including taxes.
In 1955, supported by an inscrutable handicapping régime favouring small cars, a factory-prepared Standard Ten, driven by Jimmy Ray and Brian Horrocks, won the UK's RAC Rally
Diolch am 74,872,108 o olygfeydd anhygoel, mae pob un yn cael ei werthfawrogi'n fawr.
Thanks for 74,872,108 amazing views, every one is greatly appreciated.
Shot 07.07.2019 at Cars in the Park, Beacon Park, Lichfield 143-118
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p-мinus • Ten Nine Eight Seven Six Five Four Three Two ∞ One
Good morninggggg pimp fans! Everyone please give a warm welcome to special guest speaker Sherlock Fedora. Detective Fedora, who has come all the way from Scotland to speak for us, will be initiating number 7 of the p-мinus countdown.
It is simplicity itself... My eyes tell me that you are on picture number 359. Obviously there is a state of confusion among this online community being that today’s date is May 26th, 2010. Yet this very picture of the man with the fedora hat and it’s odd reflection was taken on November 30th, 2009. Hence, you see, my initial double deduction is that you had cheated us when this picture did not get posted that same day. But your method of waiting almost 6 full months has proven wisely dear boy.
Elementary, my dear pimp!
--
Holy shit! I’ve turned my fedora into a top hat. In the reflection at least.
I think I own like 6 or 7 fedoras, and I’m always looking to add to my collection. Before I started this project, I only owned one. Quickly I began to realize that fedoras, or more specifically brimmed hats, make for fucking excellent self-portraits.
On most days, I would have a pack of smokes and at least 2 or 3 different fedoras with me in my car as the bare minimum ensemble to take my daily shot. In the colder months, I also brought several suit coat jackets just so I could mix’n’match. And there were other on the fly variables that I could change out in seconds with me at all times like type of eyewear, a different t-shirt, etc.
But no accessory really can even come close to the fedora in terms of transforming me back and forth day after day. It adds this element of inscrutability to a photo that is unmet without it.
You know I used to call them “old man hats” when I was younger. Does this mean I am an old man now? I found a couple grey hairs in my hair the other day. Unlike the formally mentioned slight wrinkles, I actually got a little excited about the grey hairs. Not really sure why, but I was.
The shot at hand? I had planned on taking one of my 365 day shots in this conference room with that radical table during the whole project. With only a couple days left, I knew I had to finally bang it out if I wanted that idea to ensue. So I grabbed the babe and went to the office late at night and snapped a few shots. The crazy whacked out reflection effect was thought of during post-edit.
Location: the conference room at my work; Alameda, California
Taken: November 30th, 2009
Posted: May 26th, 2010
*=lapse
**=continued from pimpexposure
Week 9 In Montparnasse The Emergence of Surrealism in Paris, from Duchamp to Dalí
Part 1 (1341-1345) 4/2/ – 4/6/2023
ID 1342
Amedeo Modigliani Itlaian 1884 -1920
Blue Eyes (Portrait of Madame Jeanne Hébuterne), 1917
Oil on canvas
The Samuel S. White 3rd and Vera White Collection,
19676-30-59
From the Placard: The Philadelphia Museum of Art, PA
That summer Modigliani had met a real Musidora—Jeanne Hébuterne, a nineteen year-old art student at the Académie Colarossi, a girl with long dark hair and huge eyes of piercing blue (or green, or brown, depending who was describing them); from their first meeting in July they were inseparable. She struck everyone who met her as a strange, other-worldly creature, silent, inscrutable; an intoxicating muse of Modigliani, she sat for some of his most arresting portraits, nude or clothed, fragile or voluptuous; chameleon-like, she seemed capable of becoming whatever he wanted her to be. She was deeply in love with him; their child (also Jeanne) was born in November the following year. In Spring 1918 they were on their way to Cannes with Jeanne’s mother, in retreat from the bombing. Since January that year, Paris had been under fire again, the city at its most dangerous since the start of the war, with sudden shattering explosions coming night after night. By spring Apollinaire was reporting for “L’Europ nouvell” on the exodus of the painters; those of the avant-garde who had not been called up seemed to be heading for the south of France. Those who remained included Picasso; Apollinaire, back in hospital with a near-fatal congestion of the lungs (after-effects of the poison-gas attack); poets Breton and Soupault, in Paris on leave, “dragging our soiled uniforms through the railway smoke on the outskirts, forgetting to salute officers, forgetting every kind of deportment, forgetting the hour and ourselves in the bitter cold”; and Cocteau, there for good.
Sue Roe In Montparnasse The Emergence of Surrealism in Paris, from Duchamp to Dalí Penguin Books, 2000 pg 54
Part 3 of my Halloween series from Haunted New England: more photos and info at the top of the comments/first comment below.
When I walked among the tombstones in the Old Burying Yard in York, Maine, I began to notice repeated carvings of strange and scary images at the top of many of the older markers, including skulls and crossbones. In the back of my imagination, I began to wonder what they meant… were they pirates? were they poisoned? were they murdered or criminals? As I read and learned more about the historic religious beliefs of this community, the symbols began to make more sense.
The earliest gravestones had no designs, only words and dates because Puritans thought these would fall under the category of "graven images" prohibited by the 2nd commandment in the Bible. Later, after 1650, they started accepting certain frightening symbols to decorate the stones, such as a skull and crossbones, or a winged death's head. These were meant to emphasize the deep, underlying tension that characterized the Puritan view of death. They regarded death as God's punishment for human sinfulness and were taught that one could never be sure if they were destined to be one of the few to receive God's gift of the reward of eternal life. God is inscrutable, death is inevitable, they believed, and Hell was a place of unspeakable terrors. The stark symbols on the headstones were meant to remind the living of these themes so that they might examine their lives constantly and maintain their faithfulness.
Around the time of the Great Awakening in the 1730's an intense religious revival in the New England colonies began to soften the stark Puritan view of death. Believers started to see death as a reunion with God and their loved ones, and they became more assured that a life of piety would lead to salvation. The symbols on the graves also started to soften. The frightening death's head images turned into very similar looking but more pleasant winged cherubs and soul effigies. The idea of a the soul being set free to fly like a bird to heaven upon death was a common metaphor. Stars, vines, scrolls and other decorations, we might see as purely decorative now, then actually carried strong symbolism and were chosen to express different messages.
The strange face on the tombstone above is what is called a "Winged Soul Effigy" The round face is the soul and the wings show how the soul is set free from the body at death to fly into the afterlife. Stars like the six pointed ones near the top, have been thought to represent the Father, Creation, or heavenly wisdom. The shell symbols may have meant "everlasting life."
See the first comment box for more info below.
Clockwise from top left: Andy sad, Andy pensive, Andy fearful, Andy happy.
This was inspired by Andy Warhol's Four Jackies, and by his inscrutability in the face of momentous events.
Today the Hereios of the We’re Here! Group are enjoying New Pop Art.
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 aquorum,
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.
The Naming of Cats di Thomas Stearns Eliot
...♪♫♪♪
܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇܇
৹
an excellent person and friend of mine
has tagged me
and altough ain't good to talk about myself at all
but..
here i go.
I am the second of the 3 children of my mother
and was raised only by her and my older sister
my parents got separated when i was like 4
when I was 8
my mom gives my first book
(i mean not a school one)
"the prophet" of khalil gibran
soon it became
my breakfast
my lunch
and my dinner
I think I have a lot of manias
and I'm somewhat like a living oxymoron
I think that the soul of many men live in me
I suppose that is why
when i was a child, wanted to be many many things:
dancer, one professional
painter,
sculptor,
until i imagined my workshop, where i would live
but i had to start to work soon
and those things don't pay.
I like to write
but avoid the rhyme
even sometimes i act like a child
and also, sometimes I don't like that on me
i used to sing and to play guitar
in a church choir
but an illness left my voice very opaque
and affected my ears too
I prefer very very much more the glory that the money
maybe for that reason I result be so unexpensive
:)
I believe, cause my work,
(systems' engineer )
am a very logical person and I analyze everything
when I found out that my last girlfriend,
that one i didnt see in years,
got married,
mi heart left a little broken
I'm not leant to groom myself too much
but mainly I don't like to shave
and to comb :)
I believe deeply in God
and that his ways are inscrutables
so I'm Catholic, although not a very practicing one
sometimes i can be a monk
and others, exaggeratedly, a faun
:)
I deeply believe, also,
that making the DIFFERENCE
in the LIFE of someone else
especially helping him/her,
it is the real only goal
that gives SENSE to our lives
once, I felt in love so deeply
I thought that it wouldn't never happen
so, even im a lonely person
I am so happy
generally i used to be quiet
I am a little irritable
and somewhat antisocial
I like coffee, but i prefer cocoa
and the fisico-culturism... :)
usually i "wear" earphones the whole day
unpluged, mostly
it is to protect my ears
I am a little allergic
(less and less)
to the wind and the perfumes
I am still dreamer
less and less, I believe
but I am still... one
uhmmm
I didn't think that this would be so long
so stop right now
thanks
a hug
Surviving Adolescence: A Roadmap for Teens and Their Parents
www.child-adolescent-adult-development.info/surviving-ado...
By Calvin A. Colarusso, M.D.
Clinical Professor of Psychiatry,
University of California at San Diego
(12/21/11)
Wouldn't be nice if we could just skip adolescence? You know, those terrible years from 12 to 20. I'm sure most parents are shouting YES! and many adolescents as well. Well, unfortunately, we can't magically skip over these vital years. So there is nothing left to do but make the best of a bad situation. That's what this book is about, obtaining the information to make these years, as a parent or a teenager, as easy as possible and, dare I say, very enjoyable at times. The key is knowledge and an infinite amount of patience.
With a little bit of humor, plenty of understanding and 50 years of experience treating adolescents, child psychiatrist Calvin Colarusso, M.D. provides ideas and examples to smooth the way.
Think of this book as a survival tool for parents and a guide on how to manage your parents for adolescents.
Surviving Adolescence, A Roadmap for Teens and Their Parents provides understanding of inscrutable adolescent behavior and practical suggestions on what to do about mood swings, backtalk, disgusting bedrooms, sexual behavior and dating.
Developmental concepts included are:
• An understanding of the effects of puberty
• The meaning of adolescent withdrawal and secretiveness
• The need for continued parental involvement and limits
• The meaning of adolescent crushes
• When to allow dating
• The vital role of friendships
• Parental involvement in choosing a career
• Do’s and Don'ts for parents
About the Author: Calvin Colarusso, M.D.
An eminent authority in the field of development, Dr. Colarusso, M.D. is a board-certified Clinical Professor of Psychiatry, University of California at San Diego, where he served for two decades as Director of the Child Psychiatry Residency Training Program.
He is also a Training and Supervising Analyst in child and adult psychoanalysis at the San Diego Psychoanalytic Institute and an internationally known lecturer to students, professionals, and the general public on many aspects of normal and pathologic development.
His six books in print have been published in English, Korean, and Spanish.
See amzn.to/calcolarusso.
Review
5.0 out of 5 stars Not your Average Parenting Book, December 29, 2011
By Liz Hansen - See all my reviewsThis review is from: Surviving Adolescence: A Roadmap for Teens and Their Parents (Kindle Edition)I never had the pleasure of referring to such a helpful book during the teenage years of my eldest son. Luckily we all survived his transition into adulthood, but if I could do it all over again I think I would of done a few things differently if I had a book like this to guide me with some of the choices I made back then.
Our teenage daughter has fully taken on the role of the teenage daughter (if you have one you know what I mean!), and I decided to arm myself with as much knowledge (and common sense!) as possible this time around.
Just by reading this book, I believe it's not only helped me think more clearly on issues I would have reacted to badly in the past with my son, but it also provides sound advice on situations that every parent will encounter with their teenage son or daughter. Highly recommended!
The inscrutable East, birthplace of most major religions.
Cass Gilber, the architect of the building wrote, "In the lap of the central figure is the idol, symbol of false worship, while above the right shoulder of the figure is seen the rising luminous cross of Christianity, symbol of hope, which found its birth place on the continent of Asia"
Came across an antique contraption at a rummage sale. It was a wooden framework supporting a large magnifying glass that was designed for viewing photographs. I learned later this device is known as a monoscope. Anyway I peered into the glass and was amazed to see this image of a Victorian era woman posed for a cabinet photo wearing a mourning dress. The photo was so clear it was as if it was taken yesterday rather than 140 years ago. It's one of those photos where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts...the curled hair, the beads, high collar, puffed shoulders, and her gaze. I even noticed catch lights in her eyes. But most of all that inscrutable expression, almost but not quite a smile. I thought perhaps this was taken later in the mourning phases because of the absence of a hat or veil. Back in the moment, I simply lifted my camera and focused in on the glass lens and captured this image. The highlights caused by overhead fluorescent lighting only added to the effect.
Interestingness - Top 500 (October 25, 2005 #320)
'I want to catch that birdie!!' On Black
I was trying to take some good shots of our precious kitty Bonnabelle in natural light. I still call her a kitty even though she's 13 years old. She's very special to us because she's had diabetes for over 3 years, so we have to give her insulin shots every day. She's still incredibly healthy and vibrant. As I was shooting, a bird flew overhead and I happened to get this shot of her watching it.
Added to the Cream of the Crop pool as my most interesting photo!
To My Cat
HALF loving-kindliness and half disdain,
Thou comest to my call serenely suave,
With humming speech and gracious gestures grave,
In salutation courtly and urbane;
Yet must I humble me thy grace to gain,
For wiles may win thee though no arts enslave,
And nowhere gladly thou abidest save
Where naught disturbs the concord of thy reign.
Sphinx of my quiet hearth! who deign’st to dwell
Friend of my toil, companion of mine ease,
Thine is the lore of Ra and Rameses;
That men forget dost thou remember well,
Beholden still in blinking reveries
With sombre, sea-green gaze inscrutable.
-- Rosamund Marriott Watson
"Only two things are known for sure about the mysterious Pyro: he sets things on fire and he doesn't speak. In fact, only the part about setting things on fire is undisputed. Some believe his occasional rasping wheeze may be an attempt to communicate through a mouth obstructed by a filter and attached to lungs ravaged by constant exposure to his asbestos-lined suit. Either way, he's a fearsome, inscrutable, on-fire Frankenstein of a man - if he even is a man."
From Team Fortress 2. Check the bio page for more info. No video yet. :(
This is one of the figures where balance is a big issue. With the large weapon, I've got to make sure that the legs are positioned far enough in front. The tank in the back also helps to balance it out. Of course, without the weapon this figure cannot stand as shown!
I have been talking with a fascinating scientist who’s working on genetically-modified neurons to innervate the brain from a silicon substrate. The goal — connect prosthetics to the cranial nerves and eventually, replace all sensory input to the brain with a computer interface. Well… how complicated would this be? While the human brain has 86 billion neurons, he estimates that there are only 4 million cranial nerves to connect, and 3 million of them come from the retina (the color-coded photoreceptors).
Who might volunteer to have their head and spinal cord cut out of their body and their skull removed, to be reborn as a cyborg, fed by an ECMO machine? Many terminally ill cancer patients have not suffered a neurodegenerative disease. Their body will die while the mind is still ripe.
I do not believe we will be able to upload our consciousness to a silicon substate, as Ray Kurzweil has long predicted, at least not any time earlier than we will grow an AI that exceeds human intelligence. The brain in a vat is very different. A prosthetic hijacking of the interface to the sensory cortex is a much simpler task. The inscrutable complexity of the cortex remains just that. We just need to couple to the extant external interface to the body.
He makes it sound… imminent. While the sensory cortex is notable for its neuroplasticity, (the ability to remodel sensory input), can it be this dramatic — from body to borg?
I thought of the adage from Hunter S. Thompson that arose while watching a boxing match on an ether binger: “Kill the body and the head will die.”
Thanks to Genevieve being an MIT alumnus, I can get behind the paywall of the MIT Technology Review October issue on the Mind. Professor Lisa Feldman of Northeastern postulates a problem: “Your brain did not evolve to think, feel, and see. It evolved to regulate your body. Your thoughts, feelings, senses, and other mental capacities are consequences of that regulation. Since allostasis [regulation of body systems] is fundamental to everything you do and sense, consider what would happen if you didn’t have a body. A brain born in a vat would have no bodily systems to regulate. It would have no bodily sensations to make sense of. It could not construct value or affect. A disembodied brain would therefore not have a mind. I’m not saying that a mind requires an actual flesh-and-blood body, but I am suggesting that it requires something like a body, full of systems to coordinate efficiently in an ever-changing world. Your body is part of your mind—not in some gauzy, metaphorical way, but in a very real brain-wiring way.
Your thoughts and dreams, your emotions, even your experience right now as you read these words, are consequences of a central mission to keep you alive, regulating your body by constructing ad hoc categories. Most likely, you don’t experience your mind in this way, but under the hood (inside the skull), that’s what is happening.”
She elaborates, as you might assume: “When your brain remembers, it re-creates bits and pieces of the past and seamlessly combines them. We call this process ‘remembering,’ but it’s really assembling. In fact, your brain may construct the same memory (or, more accurately, what you experience as the same memory) in different ways each time. I’m not speaking here of the conscious experience of remembering something, like recalling your best friend’s face or yesterday’s dinner. I’m speaking of the automatic, unconscious process of looking at an object or a word and instantly knowing what it is. Every act of recognition is a construction. You don’t see with your eyes; you see with your brain. Likewise for all your other senses. Just as your memory is a construction, so are your senses. Everything you see, hear, smell, taste, and feel is the result of some combination of stuff outside and inside your head. Affect is just a quick summary of your brain’s beliefs about the metabolic state of your body, like a barometer reading of sorts.
Brains evolved to control bodies. Over evolutionary time, many animals evolved larger bodies with complex internal systems that needed coordination and control. A brain is sort of like a command center to integrate and coordinate those systems. It shuttles necessary resources like water, salt, glucose, and oxygen where and when they are needed. This regulation is called allostasis; it involves anticipating the body’s needs and attempting to meet them before they arise. If your brain does its job well, then through allostasis, the systems of your body get what they need most of the time.
To accomplish this critical metabolic balancing act, your brain maintains a model of your body in the world. The model includes conscious stuff, like what you see, think, and feel; actions you perform without thought, like walking; and unconscious stuff outside your awareness. For example, your brain models your body temperature. This model governs your awareness of being warm or cold, automatic acts like wandering into the shade, and unconscious processes like changing your blood flow and opening your pores. In every moment, your brain guesses (on the basis of past experience and sense data) what might happen next inside and outside your body, moves resources around, launches your actions, creates your sensations, and updates its model. This model is your mind, and allostasis is at its core.”
Anil Seth from the University of Sussex phrases it more strongly in Our brains exist in a state of controlled hallucination: “The brain is always constructing models of the world to explain and predict incoming information; it updates these models when prediction and the experience we get from our sensory inputs diverge.
The entirety of perceptual experience is a neuronal fantasy that remains yoked to the world through a continuous making and remaking of perceptual best guesses, of controlled hallucinations. You could even say that we’re all hallucinating all the time. It’s just that when we agree about our hallucinations, that’s what we call reality.”
P.S. photo above is a movie prop from Robocop 2
Non-Sporting Group: The Chow Chow, an all-purpose dog of ancient China, presents the picture of a muscular, deep-chested aristocrat with an air of inscrutable timelessness. Dignified, serious-minded, and aloof, the Chow Chow is a breed of unique delights.
This is Margareta, Carin's sister.
When I picked up this album, this was the first photo to capture my attention - it had time and place encapsulated. And that smile leaped out.
But now, strangely, I'm more intrigued by Carin and the last photo I posted from the album. She's inscrutable.
Above this photo in the album, Marianne has written: "Yves Menard* - Ma".
* I can't be sure about the spelling of the surname.
One of the pair of dandelion fountains at 1345 Avenue of the Americas, New York. The fountains are not on every day, and not at all in the winter, and then they just stand there, inscrutable stars of metal tubes.
But at certain times late in the day in the summer, they are caught by light reflected from down the side street, and they light up in all their glory, watery dandelions glowing in the darkness of the avenue.
DRevD has some wonderful frames he's shared, and this is one of them! I bricked it up to the best of my ability, but I sorta played around with leaving the head off.
I must follow the inscrutable exhortations of my soul.
God is a spirit which cannot be seen, a being which cannot be touched. For this reason, and for no other, men dismiss the idea of God as a fantasy. Yet despite not seeing Him, the evidence of HIs work is all around us in magnificent splendour!
Look up- that beautiful lake, this flowery, rock strewn earth, the trees, mountains, rivers, the many seas; that great deep sea of azure that swims overhead; the winds sweeping through it; the black or white clouds; the hail or sleet, rain, snow of seasons, what is it? After all our science and sciences our world is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more!
Dare to pause and muse over the wonder of it all! Dare to refute and deny that all around us is the novel of a Divine Author whose brilliance shines forth on each new day. Yet we do not need to look outside of ourselves to find examples of His handiwork. Let us look at ourselves, at man, who was created in the image of God!
But now if all things whatsoever that we look upon are emblems to us of the Highest God, I add that more so than any of them is man such an emblem. The essence of our being, the mystery in us that calls itself I, Hmmm, what words have we for such things? We are a breath of heaven- the Highest Being reveals Himself in us! This body, these faculties, this life of ours, is not a vestibule for the unnamed! There is but one Temple in the universe, says the devout Novalis, and that is the body of man!
We are the miracle of miracles, the great inscrutable mystery of God. We cannot understand it, we know not how to speak of it; but we feel and know, if we like, that it is so.
God created the heavens and the earth-- all you see, all you don't see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss... -- Genesis 1:1-2
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