View allAll Photos Tagged Inner
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
tell the World I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
tell the World I’m coming
SOOC. 18-MM Nikkor. Sunrise on fall morning. The sun coming over the horizon cast such an amazing glow and the color just bounced off of everything! <3
The Inner Basin Trail ascends from Lockett Meadow into the caldera of the San Francisco Peaks, an extinct volcano and home of the tallest peaks in Arizona. The first 1.7 miles of the trail winds through the extensive aspen forest flanking the upper reaches of the Peaks, joining the Waterline Trail briefly before following a jeep road into the caldera. The trail starts at an elevation of 8665 feet, gaining approximately 1200 feet over 2 miles on its way into the Inner Basin. The trail continues another 2 miles, gaining an additional 600 feet or so to join up with the Weatherford Trail.
Photo by Deborah Lee Soltesz, May 2009. Credit: U.S. Forest Service, Coconino National Forest. For more information about this trail, see the Inner Basin No. 29 trail description on the Coconino National Forest website.
Look deeper at yourself in a mirror. Everyone has this little dark inner self. Start loving it... because it is what creates shadow behind you.
Lights , shadows and darkness ...
reflect the inner drama
our secret state of mind
painting with "poetry color" the human passions
Luci , ombre e buio ...
riflettono il dramma interiore
il nostro stato mentale secreto
dipingendo col "colore della poesia" le passioni umane.
this shot is dedicated to "Veronica & the red wine serenaders" art...
On the Applecross peninsula back in september, looking out to Rona and the Isle of Skye's Trotternish beyond as a fisheries boat shuttles between Loch Torridon and Kyle of Lochalsh.
Early morning hike on Inner Basin Trail, San Francisco Peaks.
2009-05-30: Saturday evening, we were sitting on the front porch after our evening walk, enjoying a cup of chai and watching the sun set. There had been rain during the late afternoon, and heavy clouds had descended over the Peaks, hiding the mountain from view. The clouds had lifted in time for our evening ritual, and we noticed there was new snow on the upper tips of the Peaks. As we sipped our tea, we joked “If we were really motivated, we’d get up early, hit the Inner Basin Trail at dawn, and get some good photos before the snow melts off…”
2009-05-31: …so, at 4:00AM we stumbled out of bed, grabbed some coffee, got dressed, grabbed more coffee and rolled out the door around 4:30AM. We drove up the mountain, and hit the trail around 5:15AM. There was a bit of a breeze making the hike rather chilly. Everything was wet and green, and the aspens created a delectable aroma. Past Jack Spring (1.5 miles from the trailhead) we hit the frost line, and the vegetation sparkled (and the air was noticeably chillier). We arrived at the Inner Basin (the point where there’s a shelter and pumphouse, and all the Peaks are visible) around 6:45AM. We’d expected some shade still at that hour, and were delighted to discover the sun was shining right up through the low point in the Peaks (the north-eastern side, where the wall was blown out during an eruption), lighting up the entire Inner Basin for us. We wandered around a bit capturing various shots, then headed back to attend to our day’s activities.
This creature is a demon. Around raging fire, and she herself is like fire. And you understand that it is better to leave this place, to preserve life...
A few months ago, I visited St Mary, Brook here in Kent, and found that the north wall had the remains of a squint which used to enable the intern in an anchorite cell to see inside.
THe most famous anchorite was St Julian, a woman of 14th century Norwich, whose real name we do not know, but was given the name of the church where she was an anchorite.
Looking at the history of the church, I see that the original building was destroyed by bombs in the war, and what we see now is completely post-war, and the remains of the cell I had been hoping to see is now marked by a small chapel on the south wall. Whereas the cell would have been found on the north wall.
Many people come now to St JUlian on pilgrimage, and there is an attached centre which offers resource.
I arrived here at half eight on a Saturday morning, when the city was yet to wake, and I had the church to myself.
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This small church has an international reputation, as it was here that Dame Julian of Norwich lived in the later 14th century.
The building as it now stands dates almost entirely from 1953, when it was rebuilt after suffering a direct hit from a bomb in 1942. The church was also reconsecrated in 1953.
There is good reason to believe that a church has stood here since Anglo-Saxon times, although whether the destroyed building was of Saxon date, or Saxon workmanship but post-1066, is difficult to decide.
The north wall of the nave is original, and repairs after the bombing revealed a number of circular windows, (oculi) quite high up – a standard method of lighting Anglo-Saxon churches. One has been reopened, and another was turned into a round-headed window. Similar windows were found in the south wall of the chancel, although these were not reopened.
The tower, one of four round towers in Norwich, took the hit, and collapsed across the body of the church. It was partly rebuilt, and further heightened by about four feet in 198., to provide a housing for the bell.
Almost everything in the church dates from the rebuild of 1953. Three things pre-date it. First, the font, which is c1420, and stood originally in All Saints’ church; it was brought here when that church closed in 1977. It has carvings of the twelve apostles round the bowl, and eight other saints round the stem. The reredos survived the bomb, and was placed here in 1931; it was made in Oberammergau. Finally, the door to the Cell, which is a Norman archway. It was in fact the main door to St Michael-at-Thorn, a nearby church which was also destroyed on the same night in 1942, and never rebuilt.
The organ loft was built in 1981. The organ on it is by Henry Jones, of 1860.
Some photographs showing the interior before damage are at the back of the church.
All except a couple of floor-slabs were destroyed.
There are two windows, one between the Cell and the chancel, showing the Lily Crucifix, and Julian; the other, in the opposite wall, shows the seven sacraments. Both are by the firm of King of Norwich.
The Cell
This was built on what was thought to be site of Julian’s cell, although there is no evidence to support this. It was more likely to have been on the north side, and may have been detached from the church altogether. (The flint ‘foundations’ are more likely to be those of buttresses.)
Dame Julian
Despite common perceptions, the church is not dedicated to her, not did she necessarily take her name from the church, as ‘Julian’ (a form of Gillian) was a common name for women in the Middle Ages. Falling ill in 1373, she had a series of visions (‘shewings’) dealing with aspects of Christ’s passion. When she recovered, she became an anchoress at this church, and her musings on her shewings were eventually written down (‘The Revelations of Divine Love’). This is the first known book to be written in English by a woman.
www.norwich-churches.org/St Julian/home.shtm
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Julian (1342-1413) was a 14th century mystic, an anchoress, or female hermit, who lived in a small cell attached to St Julian's church, next to one of the busiest roads in medieval Norwich. Strangely, we do not know her real name; she is only known by her association with the church of St Julian.
In truth we do not know much of anything about her, except that she almost certainly was not a nun, but a lay person who chose a life of contemplation. She was also not the first person to use the anchorite cell attached to St Julian's church; it was used before her time and again after her death.
Julian is remembered at Norwich Cathedral with a statue on the west front and a pair of stained glass windows. One of the windows, in the Bauchon Chapel, portrays her as a Benedictine nun, which she was not. She is often called a saint as well, and she's not that either!
Anchoresses could not leave their cells; essentially they were walled in, so the decision to become an anchorite or anchoress was a serious one, and required a lifetime of dedication and commitment.
Because of that dedication, people often came to anchoresses for counsel, believing them to be wise or holy people. one visitor to 'Julian' was Margery Kempe (c.1373 – c.1438), who later dictated The Book of Margery Kempe, considered the first autobiography in English. This book detailed Kempe's numerous pilgrimages, and it is partly through this that we know so much about St Julian and her life.
On 8 May 1373 the anchoress Julian was struck by a severe illness which left her close to death. During the illness she had 16 visions, visions which she was moved to write down after her recovery. These writings took 20 years to complete, and are recorded in two stages. Immediately after her visions Julian wrote down a brief account. One can imagine her quickly scribbling down details of her impressions before she could forget them.
Then, after taking time to meditate on the visions, Julian began to write out a much longer, more detailed account, called The Long Text. This was sometime after 1393. Julian's visions became Revelations of Divine Love, the first book written by a woman in English, and a spiritual classic even today.
Unlike many religious teachings of her day, Julian did not write of a vengeful or judgemental God, but a God with an all-enveloping love, like a tender mother or father. This message of Divine Love ran counter to many religious teachings both at that time and since, but the simple, clear way she expressed her ideas continue to find an audience today, and her writings have been published in a multitude of languages and remain in print today.
ulian's hermitage was torn down at the Reformation, but after the church was hit by a bomb in WWII, the cell was rebuilt along with the very simple nave and chancel of the main church. Excavations uncovered what was thought to be the original foundations of the sanctuary and St Julian's cell.
The church was rebuilt using the original materials, so that it is essentially the 'same' medieval church, just reordered. Norwich did not really need another parish church; it has plenty to spare, but the church was rebuilt in part to act as a focus for the shrine of Lady Julian of Norwich. The north wall of the nave is largely original, with several small round windows suggeting a construction date sometime in the late 11th century.
Just one footnote to the rebuilding story; there is actually no firm evidence that the foundations discovered on the south side of the church were those of Julian's cell. It would have been much more commmon fore an anchoress cell to be built on the north side of the church.
From the nave a Romanesque doorway leads down a few steps to the hermitage, where you will find a separate altar and a small shrine against the north wall. This is, as closely as we can tell, where the original cell connected with the church. The best historic features inside the church are a 15th century octagonal font, brought here from All Saints church in the city centre after the original 15th century font was destroyed in the bombing.
Another historic feature is the Romanesque doorway, which has very nicely carved capitals, though rather worn with age. But most people don't come here for the architecture, though it is interesting, but for the connection with Julian.
www.britainexpress.com/counties/norfolk/norwich/st-julian...
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St Julian, although almost forgotten today, was a popular figure in medieval legend. He was a nobleman who, out hunting one day, spared the life of a deer which had admonished him. It then went on to make the rather startling prediction that he would kill his parents. By roundabout means, this accidentally happened; Julian resolved to pay penance by establishing a riverside inn for travellers, and a hospital for the poor. So, he was an entirely appropriate choice of patron for the medieval Priory established here in the medieval suburb of Conesford on the banks of the Wensum.
he Priory has long gone. In the 18th and 19th century this north bank area of the city was taken over with factories, warehouses and working class housing. They took the place of small artisans' cottages and workshops, some of which survive. In the late middle ages, much of East Anglia's stained glass and memorial brasses had been made here, but over the following centuries you would have been more likely to find tanneries and slaughterhouses. Only now is this area undergoing a full-scale regeneration that may see it become the city's artists quarter. King Street, the main road that ran through Conesford, is being gentrified, but still the urban decay of centuries clings to the old buildings.
But although this church is a small and rebuilt building, tucked away in what is still the anonymous and run down inner city, St Julian is one of the most famous of Norwich's churches because it is associated with the mystical visions of the Blessed Mother Julian of Norwich. Both church and mystic took their name from the adjacent Priory; in a way, it is a coincidence that they share it.
When Dame Julian came here, the church looked much as it did in the early 19th century drawing above. By the time George Plunkett took his 1937 photographs on the right, the Victorians had replaced the chancel, but it was still substantially a medieval church.
Incidentally, Dame Julian did not actually receive her visions at this church; some people are disappointed when they discover this. In fact, we don't know who she really was at all. She was a woman, of course, and probably of noble birth; she fell ill in the 1370s, probably in one of the outbreaks of the Black Death which carried off half Norfolk's population between the late 1340s and the end of the century.
In her deathbed delirium, she claimed, she received mystical visions, which she termed Revelations of Divine Love. On her unexpected recovery, she was received into holy orders, taking the name Julian, and became an Anchoress.
An Anchoress was a kind of female hermit, walled up in a room on the side of a church with a view of the altar. Meals would be passed to her, ablutions passed out, and she would offer advice to visitors; but her existence was largely a contemplative one. Her male equivalent would have been an Anchorite; there is surviving evidence of Anchorite or Anchoress cells at half a dozen East Anglian churches.
here was a great craze for Anchorites and Anchoresses in the late 14th century, mainly as a result of the way in which the Black Death had concentrated our minds and made us serious. Dame Julian devoted her time to prayer and contemplation of her visions, which she wrote down in English.
The manuscripts were scattered to the four winds by the Reformation, and it was really only in the 20th century that the importance of her work in both literary and spiritual terms was recognised. The most striking thing about the Revelations is quite simply that, at a time when an obsession with death, doom and gloom would have been entirely reasonable, they are optimistic and uplifting, an affirmation of our relationship with God. They suggest that our ultimate destiny is intended by God to be beautiful and glorious, and that life is not a test which sends its failures to hell.
Roger Clarke, a friend of this site, points out this has always been a rundown and poor part of Norwich, even in medieval days. Because even in the fifteenth century the Conesford area had a certain reputation, Roger writes, I have always felt that this adds to the specialness of the place. Mother Julian's Revelations are highly incarnational and stress the reality of Christ sharing in the messes and confusion of human existence - grace is very much earthed and earthy for her. What better place for the Revelations than a church in a run-down, slightly seedy, decayed, red-light district ? The holy is glimpsed, not in the purity of isolation, but in the ordinary - or, as Mother Julian, would call it "the homely". The Revelations are at the forefront of medieval northern European spiritual writing.
Although she has never been officially recognised as a Saint, Mother Julian is often treated as one (Blakeney church has a window of 'St Julian of Norwich') and her patronal day of May 8th is included in the Ordo of both the Church of England and of the Catholic Church in England and Wales.
A 1905 photograph of the interior above shows us that St Julian was a spectacularly high church at the start of the 20th century. The rood beam inscription reads And Incense shall be offered unto My Name and a Pure Offering received. But during the 1942 air raids on Norwich, St Julian was one of five city churches destroyed by the bombing.
2005, looking east: the doorway to the cell is on the right
Thanks to the significance of its most famous resident, it was the only one to be rebuilt, and this was done in the 1950s according to its original plan, except that the presumed site of Mother Julian's cell was added as a transept, accessed through a massive Norman doorway brought here from the bombed out church of St Michael at Thorn. The steeply pitched roof gives it an attractively rustic feel, and the Saxon windows exposed by the bombing have been left as features on the north side. The tower was left at a lower level, and is now less-convincingly Norman than it was before the bombing.
George Plunkett's 1946 photograph shows St Julian in ruins at the end of the war, and reminds us quite how complete the destruction was - far greater than at St Paul, for example. By the 1950s, work was in progress; the second photograph shows the state of play in 1952; in the foreground is Mother Julian's cell being constructed on the presumed site of its predecessor. On the same day, the north side is shown below, with the completed church being landscaped in 1962 in the fourth photograph.
The twelve-storey council block of Normandie tower looms over the church, and in this challenging area it was fitting that a group of Anglican nuns from the Community of All Hallows at Ditchingham on the outskirts of Bungay should have set up a community beside the church in the 1950s. In the reorganisation of Norwich parishes, this was one of two churches in the new Parmentergate parish to survive as a working church - the other is St John Timberhill.
We had just arrived inside St Julian to hear whispered voices coming from the south transept, when all of a sudden a nun came flying out through the Norman doorway into the body of the church. Not literally flying, of course, but she was certainly fleet of foot. "Hello sister, is it all right to have a look around?", I said, because it seemed only polite to ask.
"Can you wait a few minutes?" she replied, breathlessly, "we're in the middle of a Eucharist." And then she was gone, out of the north door. Well, what would you do? I thought about it, and began to photograph the font. I had just become engrossed in this when the breathless nun fled back in, carrying a large consecration host. She skipped back into the transept, and a few moments later we heard her voice begin to intone the third eucharistic prayer. I am not a member myself, but I love the Church of England and its funny little ways.
The font I was photographing came from All Saints in the city centre, another example of the way in which surviving Norwich churches have been enriched by those that fell to redundancy. It is similar to one that was in St James, but which has now been moved to a church in Norwich's northern suburbs. There is another in the series at Stalham. It was brought here to replace a 15th century font with shields that was destroyed by the bombs - you can see both fonts below, the earlier one photographed in 1937 by George Plunkett.
Although I have been fortunate enough to visit this church on a number of occasions, and have usually basked in its peaceful and contemplative atmosphere, we were in a hurry on this particular day, because it was the National Heritage open day 2005, when all of Norwich's medieval churches were open. St Julian is always open daily anyway, but most Norwich churches are not; so we pressed on to St Peter Parmentergate and left St Julian's nuns to their Eucharist. Peter Stephens kindly came to the rescue with the photographs below, which include the cell and the cell itself, which was inaccessible because of that eucharist and its attendant nuns.
I do admire Anglican nuns. Over in the Catholic Church there are thousands and thousands of nuns, mostly now in plain clothes, all over the world. They bestride the globe with their sleeves rolled up, teaching, running hospitals, contemplating, suing for peace in war zones, standing up to Bishops; one critic described them as the shock troops of Vatican II. But at least they know they are at the heart of their Church.
Not so Anglican nuns. You have to be someone really special to devote your life, quite literally, to a Church where you are in a tiny minority of the clerisy, where half the members of the Church don't even know that you exist, and, worse, some of those who do know about you wish that you didn't. Just imagine; you give up everything, only to watch the worldwide Anglican communion tearing itself apart, and the Church at home preparing to sink the life rafts that kept the Anglo-catholics afloat after the decision to ordain women Priests. Blimey. That'd be a test for your vocation and no mistake.
Perhaps it is a comfort for them to be here, and to sense the echo of Mother Julian's words: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well...
Simon Knott, November 2005
The rabbits on Inner Farne seem much more russet coloured than our native species, and very long in the body.
Inner Reflection: A Chapel of Meditation
Jon Taylor | Seaweed Artist Collective
The main concept represented by the Chapel is to create a space where any of the world’s cultural symbols could be applied, based on the viewpoint of each individual visitor. Those with Eastern influences might see Rat, Rabbit, Horse and Rooster from Feng Shui tradition. Celts might see Air Fire Water and Earth. A Native American Shaman could interpret it as Wisdom, Salvation, Beginnings and Conclusions etc...
This is accomplished by North, South, East and West corresponding to the four corners of this tranquil structure. The building’s orientation and shape is an abstract of all such forms of thought. Even the pendulum itself, surrounded by earth, fire, air and water could simultaneously be regarded as wood, metal, air, fire.
The exterior is meant to be devoid of any cultural or philosophical references, a black cube but with arched entryways that invite you inside. Once within, the white and gray color system represents a clean slate, a fresh moment to reflect, pray, meditate, or simply exist in a peaceful state.
The expression, ultimately is meant to be the creation of a space that is appealing to as many of the world’s spiritual traditions as possible." - Jon Taylor, lead artist.
Fall colors on the Inner Basin Trail, September 23, 2016.
The Inner Basin Trail ascends from Lockett Meadow into the caldera of the San Francisco Peaks, an extinct volcano and home of the tallest peaks in Arizona. The first 1.7 miles of the trail winds through the extensive aspen forest flanking the upper reaches of the Peaks, joining the Waterline Trail briefly before following a jeep road into the caldera. The trail starts at an elevation of 8665 feet, gaining approximately 1200 feet over 2 miles on its way into the Inner Basin. The trail continues another 2 miles, gaining an additional 600 feet or so to join up with the Weatherford Trail.
Photo by George Jozens, September 23, 2016. Source: U.S. Forest Service, Coconino National Forest. See Lockett Meadow Campground and Inner Basin No. 29 for information about this area of the Peaks on the Coconino National Forest website.
C Street near Opera Alley, Eureka
Artist Augustus Clark says this door is "Dedicated to the memory of my friend Brian Tripp, a fantastic artist who passed away just a while ago. Thanks to Henry Kruger at @Sailor's Grave Tatoo Shop! Thanks also to Kathleen for being a great landlady and for the encouragement on this project!"
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Inner tubes stacked up at the water park. You could use them to go down the lazy river or down one of the big waterslides.
Gordon Groß (Haus- und Grundverein) und Dorothee Bär - FOCUS Inner Circle Next Generation im Soho House. 12.11.19 © Jens Oellermann Fotografie
I shot this in the Vic West community garden. It was a sunny day, but this flower was in shade. I was mystified by the light source. I looked at this for quite a while before I started to shoot, trying to figure out where the light was coming from. I think it is coming from side-on angle, entering the flower beneath the hoverfly, between petals. in any case, it was a very narrow beam and it lit up this flower like an internal light source. I just kept shooting while the hoverfly hung around.