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Follow my blog link for the poem I wrote called Inked Fever...https://wordpress.com/post/jasperjacemirror.home.blog/59
Inked Fever.... By Jasper Mirror
This fever
Has caught me strong on the let
down
trying to hold onto the rain
Falling through fingers to the ground
I’ve buckled on less and
now here I am once again
down on nothingness here
on my knees
Something about you surrounds me here
I want this heat in the
open air to take me there
I will hold your
Head up as the water falls
Down around us
Holding onto a chance that is
Lost and confined in the depths where we hide
Captured and pulled from your embrace
Don’t let me go through life inside of the marry-go-round
Flying from the ground
Caught in these hurricanes
Inside of the eye of our storms
Put me inside of your world
let me show
This piece of me
Standing here
waiting for your heart
the ocean of fear caging us in
tearing us apart
soaking in the water of tears from
hearts easily torn apart
When you reach your shore
Let me hold your fear with my heart
My hands want to show you
Around this wilderness that is me
Our barriers fight against us
If I could keep things here
If I could
Hold you
Until our endless depths find a way
To accept the blackout
The way we are
The night might wake up with the dark
In our hearts
Wake up and feel
the sting
feel the bruise
our hearts awakened in darkness yet
hold onto the rain falling
from our hands
a two-sided emotion-filled midnight in
the wilderness that I found
in your arms
Hold onto promises of what could be
In the moments when we feel the implosion in your heart
Take me out of this black ink well,
mark your song all around me
Tattoo the notes in my heart
Keep the black
rewrite it because we are
more than our blackened hearts
By Jasper Mirror
This South African Wildabeast (or Wildabeest depending on where you are from) was another "throw away" shot from my 2025 trip to Namibia. The sun was brutal in Etosha that day. When I reviewed the shot and developed it as a high key image, I found that with a little more work, I could make it look like a pen and ink drawing. I hope you enjoy it. 20250508 South African Wildabeast
2020-09-06, Day 2
A deep carpet of red- and golden-tinged dwarf birch and willows lines both sides of the milky blue, glacial waters of Dinwoody Creek as it flows under Ink Wells Bridge, Fitzpatrick Wilderness, Wind River Range, Wyoming.
After saying 'Dinwoody' enough times, I gradually morphed the word into 'Dim Woody', and my hiking partner and I then began to develop the tale of Old Dim Woody whose spirit still roams these parts. Without screens or responsibilities, and with enough time on our hands doing nothing but walking through beautiful country, the mind rapidly unspools into wanton ridiculousness. It seemed likely that Old Dim Woody was a tad fond of his sipping whiskey, and when his spirits were high and besotted, he was prone to bouts of poor decision making. Things only got worse when a neighbor's mare kicked him in the pate one night when the rye was particularly enchanting and he mistook her for a spittoon.
One September after this unfortunate event, an autumn snow-storm blew in when Old Dim Woody was camped at Ink Wells. Sometime during the night his pony became infected with a bit of madness and threatened to break its hobble. The hapless man tried to calm his hoofed companion but to no avail: Dim Woody was never too meticulous about maintenance, and the hobble leather was old and rotted. The pony broke free and headed over the bridge and upstream through the forest at an impressive speed for one with such stubby legs. In fact, its diminutive stature may have helped it avoid some of the boughs already pressed low by the accumulating snow as it heedlessly fled upward toward the headwaters. Pondering the situation for perhaps too-brief a time, Old Dim Woody slapped his battered hat onto his dented head, invigorated his mind with another dram of rye, pushed through the flap of his tent, and began to follow the already-filling tracks of his erstwhile steed.
The tracks wound ever higher and the temperature was cold. Not quite cold enough to tingle and freeze the nose hairs upon the inhale, but cold enough that his toes became numb once the snow that kept knocking into the tops of his boots eventually overwhelmed the capacity of his feet to produce heat. The pony's tracks were faint but continually bore upward, past timberline and toward the giant cirque of peaks that held the glacier that fed the creek. If he stopped for too long, he shivered, sometimes violently. It was difficult to move through the rocks once the snow hid the deep cracks between them. He discovered that the coefficient of static friction between his boots and the icy boulders was perilously low. Once, his foot became tightly wedged between two large, immovable stones and it took him several increasingly panicky minutes to extricate it. The sky was filled with snow and then a surprise clap of thunder sobered him up as waves of kettle-drum sound crashed amongst the ice-clad peaks. The lightning followed immediately and was so bright it lit up the atmosphere. It was like being deep underwater beneath a violent falls under the dazzling sun, bright snow bubbles everywhere and impossible to tell which way was up.
Nobody knows exactly what happened to Old Dim Woody on that fateful night. His empty tent was discovered by some trappers seeking late-season beaver a month or so later. There were fresh pony tracks over the bridge and horse dung inside the tent. The small cache of oats that Old Dim Woody kept in a can near the wood-stove had been raided. They say the moaning wind of the first winter storm is the sound of Dim Woody howling amongst the rocks, looking for tracks and pining for another dram.
1, 8 oz oink ink black barely used
1, 8 oz Junobo white Barley used
3 empty 1 oz or 2 oz mops
1 Black filled mop
1 White filled mop
11 extra new nibs
Make your offers looking for prismas, copics, decos, and money
Inked summer girl
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M: @dela_boldt
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#portraitphotography #portrait_vision #portraitmadeingermany #portrait #portrait_perfection #portraitpage #modelsofinstagram #model #glamourmodel #glamour #inked #beauty #body #redhead #redheadgirl #curlyhair #inkedmodel #beach #beachgirl #naturalbeauty #Panasonic #PanasonicLumix #2019 #Beach #guidokpunkt #SanktPeterOrding #Shooting #Sommer #Sonne #SPO #Strand #sun #fun #lifestyle
Shoe: nike.com
Background: freestocktextures.com
Paint material: mediamilitia.com
© Rui Almeida 2011 | All rights reserved.
All photos they may not be used or reproduced without my permission. If you would like to use one of my images for commercial purposes or other reason, please contact me. Depending on the situation may have to assign the work as specified by the author.
◘ No images in comments please, or you or you can be blocked, but group invites are welcome
Parker Duofold fountain pen makes a Perfect Match with Parker Quink ink. Taken for Macro Mondays. Macro photograph taken using diffused daylight. Blue pen and blue ink. Black border with white key line.
stylemerotten.wordpress.com/2014/12/03/wanted/
僕らは生まれてからso多く学び
死に近づくにつれて多くを忘れ
気付いた時にゃもう灰になって
生きた証を残しておくにはモノじゃ無くて
誰かの記憶に残るような人生をお薦めします
www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcBBNB5JTOQ
We've learned so much since being born
And we forget it everytime we inch closer to death
Before we know it, we've turned to ash
And to leave behind proof of the lives we lived
I recommend you live a life somebody out there will remember
A shaggy ink cap mushroom in perfect condition. They don't last long in this state before they curl up and start to drip their ink. There were quite a few of these mushrooms in a small patch of long grass and this was the only one in this condition, the others had peaked and were dripping all over the grass.
Just while I was taking this image the sun came out and cast light upon the scene.
✰ Credit ✰
..TENEBRE.. - Succubus - Jail Event
DO INK - Black Mamba Earrings - Jail Event
DO INK - Metals Stilleto Nails - Jail Event
NEW ATTITUDE
● Tumblr
● Flickr
.......... bottle. Shot this old Sheaffer's Skrip ink bottle a lot of times before finally cropping down to this one. Tried with no ink. Then with a little ink in the bottom and well but it looked like a, well, an ink blob. Then tried this one with just a bit of ink in the well. Seemed to work.
completely my design (simple, yes, but perfect).
The tattoo artist did absolutely nothing to it, but size it for me.
It is so perfect, and people are now approaching me to do designs for them. Very surreal.
Old portable Smith Corona Manuel Typewriter: I bought this typewriter new over 50 years ago when I was in high school. It was purchased from a school & office supply store in Hillsdale, Michigan USA.
In this photo, the ink ribbon has become entangled in the type levers. This close up lets you see the detail on some of the the type bars at the end of the levers.
The manual typewriter was replaced first by the electric typewriter, but then typewriters as a word processor were replaced by computers/laptops/tablets etc..
A photo of the typewriter from which this macro shot was taken can be viewed here.