Hey everyone! Jack here, and today I happily present to you my updated, custom LEGO P-51C MOC in the Tuskegee airmen livery... again. It has been a long while since this MOC was initially published, and with each iteration I feel like I’ve gotten ever-closer to capturing its challenging shapes and curves. The model is now pretty much a complete redesign from its debut over a year ago! I certainly owe a lot of the credit and the ideas that sparked my revisions to Henrik Jensen, a user here on Flickr who posts some incredibly qualitative custom LEGO models (who I’d advise checking out, brilliant stuff indeed). I greatly appreciate the feedback/critiques I’ve received from Henrik, as it was not only incredibly informative and insightful, but also showed a profound amount of thoughtfulness for the betterment of my own models!

As for the resultant of this, coupled with the building on my end to make the techniques and shaping work together as seamlessly as possible, I’m glad to say I’m a lot more satisfied with the model. It went through many different updates, and whilst I never like to consider my creations as fully finished at any given point in time, I am pretty happy with it for the present. But please, let me know what you guys think! Comments, faves and constructive criticism (as always) are highly appreciated!

I took this shot for a local competion, In Memoriam: Eve Arnold. She was a renowned photographer working for the Magnum Agency. She's often remembered for her shots of Marilyn Monroe, though she's made very insightful documental work too all over the world.

 

It was very rewarding to examine Eve Arnold's work. I think all photographers benefit from pondering over the performance of photography masters ahead of our digital time.

 

Exif:

ISO 320 ; f/2.8 ; 1/20 ; @5mm

With a point-and-shoot camera :)

This picture is #21 in the 100 Strangers Project - Round 3

  

Was visiting family in Mumbai, India for a short vacation last month. The incessant but necessary rains really dampened a lot of plans making general travel within the city challenging - especially with the traffic. But still had the odd opportunity to walk around seeking strangers for the project. The next few encounters are, in no particular order, from my Mumbai days.

 

******

 

Meet Shaveta

 

Shaveta was in fact the first stranger I photographed during my visit to Mumbai, Having just traveled back home after a few years was still toying with the idea of moving the project further but was still adjusting to the newer environment. so was quite hesitant.

 

Was at a mall and while stopping by the food court for a quick lunch came across Shaveta with a a tall good looking dude who I later learned was her brother Nishanth. Its quite easy to the young lady is very beautiful and can grab attention even in a crowd. with her fabulous personality. And did I mention the sharp eyes? I waited for a while for them to finish lunch before approaching them at their table. As challenging as this is, its a little tougher when your subject has a 6 and half feet companion. But after hearing me out for a few minutes, Shaveta agreed with a smile to be on the project.

 

Shaveta is a doctor by profession - specializing in Ayurveda. A multi-faceted personality she is a artist at heart and has varied interests. She loves dancing, acting reading, writing and modelling. In fact she was in Mumbai for an audition for lending her voice for a commercial campaign. She also loves travelling - recently she had been to Nagaland.

 

What is her favorite quality of herself - that she can keep a positive attitude and ability to be happy at all times. If I cant be happy, then how can I treat others as a doctor was her simple yet deeply insightful observation.

 

We then proceeded to find a few spots in the mall to shoot a few quick pictures - although the overhead lights did make it a challenge. Funnily the mall security allows mobile pictures but thinks anything with a DSLR as a commercial shoot - so we had to move fast for a few clicks by the window. But Shaveta was confidence personified with her posing and expressions. Turns out that she was infact a winner of the Glitter Miss India pageant in 2014. I can't help giving myself kudos finding such standout strangers - jokes aside there definitely was something special about her even from a distance.

 

Nishant was a big help providing valuable suggestions and encouraging his sister. In fact we did a few quick clicks of the young man as we waited outside for his cab to arrive and was easy to see that modelling possibly runs in the family.

 

Thank you Shaveta (and Nishant) for all your time and trust doing these picture It was great making your acquaintance and I quite enjoyed photographing you. I wish you both a lot of success and best wishes for your future

 

Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page

For my other pictures on this project: 100 Strangers - Round 2.

For pictures from my prior attempt at 100 Strangers: 100 Strangers - Round 1.

 

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This is the cover of trying to get a sense of scale a book recently published by North Park University in conjunction with Tim Lowly's exhibition at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science Visual Arts Center. Like that exhibition this book focuses on work that Tim as done related to his daughter over the last 28 years. The book includes insightful texts by Karen Halvorsen Schreck, Riva Lehrer, Henry Luttikhuizen, Sherrie Lowly, Kelly VanderBrug and project editor Kevin Hamilton.

 

The 160 page, 10.5"x 9" book is extensively illustrated with over 70 color and 25 black and white illustrations.

 

You can purchase the book at the following links;

via Amazon

via the CIVA on-line store

via Koplin Del Rio Gallery's new on-line store: KDR Atelier

 

You can read more about the book on the CIVA blog

.

 

This essay by Karen Halvorsen Schreck is the only pre-existing text included in trying to get a sense of scale. She has written on Tim's work more than any other writer and it seemed fitting to include this incisive piece is from a 2002 exhibition catalogue.

 

Most of the text sections start with a detail of a painting, with the intention of giving the reader a greater sense of the paintings' facture. This is a detail of the painting In Ekstasis

 

This book was published by North Park University in conjunction with Tim Lowly's exhibition at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science Visual Arts Center. Like that exhibition this book focuses on work that Tim as done related to his daughter over the last 28 years. The book includes insightful texts by Karen Halvorsen Schreck, Riva Lehrer, Henry Luttikhuizen, Sherrie Lowly, Kelly VanderBrug and project editor Kevin Hamilton.

 

The 160 page, 10.5"x 9" book is extensively illustrated with over 70 color and 25 black and white illustrations.

 

You can purchase the book at the following links;

via Amazon

via the CIVA on-line store

via Koplin Del Rio Gallery's new on-line store: KDR Atelier

  

You can read more about the book on the CIVA blog

Lord Jack Archibald And Co. Projectile Firing Mechanics, Flying Apparatus, And Etc. most triumphantly and emphatically presents for your viewing, browsing, and purchasing pleasure:

 

The Eldritch Energy Repeating Raygun. Built for your safety in regards to the recent troubling awakening of various undesirables such as, but not limited to: the development of undeath in ones formerly deceased relations, the condition of unexpected lycanthropy of an individual in the nearby populace, or the advanced development of Vampirical disease causing unsafe late-night traveling experiences. While other companies have offered solutions to these nuisances to a gentleman's nightly stroll, as well as items of confidence for the effecting of fear this problem has afflicted upon the gentle ladies one may accompany. However only limited success has been found in our competitors charms, or in their limited over specialized weaponry. Silver, Sunlight, and Blessed artifacts are specific in their application, and to be prepared for anything requires the prepared civilized man to carry a burdensome amount of weaponry. The Engineers at Lord J. Archibald and Co. have solved this predicament by engineering a raygun tuned to all of the frequencies of eldritch energy that operate these foul creatures of the night. With the operation of this weapon, the handsome sir can be prepared for anything. And in addition to all of these admirable qualities possessed within this single apparatus, there is also the added assurance that, being specifically tuned to the undeath, there is minimal risk if accidentally fired upon a living companion, should one mistake their identity.

-(Warning, this is not guaranteed for all persons. The old, the sick, and the frightfully ugly have been known to experience great discomfort, injury, and often peculiar means of death when subjected to this weapon's output.)-

-Versions that are also tuned for the elimination of human threats are also available for an all encompassing defense package.

 

(A dignified individual of sharp intellect and a smart ready wit would be inclined to inspect this article within the comforts of the lightbox.)

(This same admirable and respectable gentleman would also be inclined to leave his astute and insightful opinion within the appropriately designated comment box. He may also deem it desirable and profitable to place his personal thoughts in notification upon the posted product.)

(In addition to this, said smart dressed suave mannered individual of fine and unique taste previously mentioned would be well suited to apply within at the Lord J. Archibald and Co. Offices about filling any vacancies within our prosperous and appealing workplace, should such a man fancy putting his hands and the sweat of his brow to the plow that is our weapons manufacturing. We would be happy to consort with minds of both old and new versions of the esteemed PMG program.)

London, UK.

A few weeks ago I was very lucky to attend a photo walk with master street photographer Vineet Vohra (www.vineetvohra.com), co-founder of APF Magazine. Just looking at what he was doing was really insightful: his speed, his style and his vision. In this action shot, you see two other attendants observing Vineet taking a shot of a surprised passenger.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Lucidity

 

My twin sister has had, from early memory, a rather silly game she has always liked to play out on me.

 

Starting quite young, she had always thought it a great tease to try and lift things from my pockets when I was distracted.

 

And to be Honest, she had soon gotten quite good at it, to my chagrin.

 

Then of course, I made the mistake of letting her know it got under my skin when she would do that! So of course she kept on doing it, grinning with great satisfaction when she was successful.

 

Which she was a good deal of the time !

 

I had tolerated it for quite a few years, until one day when I found a way to get my revenge.

 

Which I did by lifting her necklace during a rather severely formal event we were rather forced into attending when we were 13.

 

Actually I lifted her necklace several times that evening without her catching on to what was truly happening…..! But that is another story altogether.

  

Needless to say, since then we had been going back and forth, cat and dog, trying to out do one another in our versions of the game from that time forward, lasting into our present adult hood.

 

Now, this rather insightful event I am about to relate, happened about two years after I had discovered my own spin on my twins annoying game.

 

By then I had successfully played it out on her several times…

 

This time around it was quite intriguing situation, for neither my sister or I had ever been to a wedding.

 

My sister( along with our mother) was assigned to be a bridesmaid at our Mum’s University chum’s wedding.

 

Sis was included to accommodate an age match for the Grooms younger brother, an oops baby Mum had said.

  

Apparently there were a dearth of females that young on either side of the Bride and Groom’s families.

  

I will admit me mum and sister looked rather smashing in their matching, quite vibrant bridesmaid’s attire.

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

Later on, at the reception, I was watching as my sister was swishing out on the dance floor with the simpy young bloke who was her partner.

  

As Sis danced about in her long lavender coloured gown of some shiny material, I had eagerly watched her glittery collection of rhinestone diamonds flickering with mad abandon along her figure, as they were caught in the dim lights.

  

They were the same set of rhinestones which all the bridesmaids had been given and were wearing with the long flowing dresses that matched my sister’s.

 

They were all the same size too. So that the set my young sister was wearing looked like an adults. Especially her necklace, which seemed to go on forever as it dangled down the front of her slick gown, ending into a long v shape..

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I actually had been pressed into service to help her place the shimmering necklace on around her neck at home before we left.

 

As she had held up her hair giving me a clear look at the long dangling earrings that she had already clasped on, she lifted the necklace up, holding the jeweled ends up to me to take and clasp.

 

I did so, watching the sparkling show reflected in our mums vanity mirror from over my sister’s shoulder..

 

As I observed my sister’s reflection, I could see that she was also keeping a rather watchful eye on me ( and her jewels I suspected)

 

Of course I acted all of the innocent one !

 

The jewels my sister was wearing also included a bracelet around a gloved hand, with a glittery ring on same hand. A brooch dangled from her waist, pinned to the front of a wide ribbed sash attached to her gown, and which I was directed to tie in a bow at her back.

  

She had stood in front of Mother’s long mirror as I stood behind tying.

  

But, truth be told, despite my innocent act, I had found the rhinestones a most attractive lure. Feeling an all too familiar certain tingle coming up from deep within as she teasingly played with her long gown, admiring her pretty self in the mirror..

  

It didn’t help much that only the weekend before we had seen an olde American funny show about people stranded on an island. We had seen the silly show a few times before, and I had really thought it was a bit of a bore.

 

The only thing I found about it to hold my attention is that several of the females liked to dress up in gowns and jewels, which peaked my interest, though it was kinda odd that people stranded on an island would be doing that sort of thing, was it not now?

 

But this one show had a newcomer, a thief, stranded on the island with them. And…

 

Well we will come to that soon enough….

 

But as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket, and followed her to the car watching her long gown fluidly flowing down out from underneath her jacket to where it fluttered at her heels, my thoughts were on that telly show, and I pondered over the possibilities of what the day could bring…….

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

  

So now at the reception, as I watched me mum, sister and all the other dancers, I found my eyes kept glancing back at my sister, and her showy attire, mesmerized, as the welcomed feelings re-emerged, dredging up from within!

 

I also began to notice the other shimmering jewels that many of the female guests were wearing along their equally fancy dressed figures.

 

So this is what a wedding was like, I was myself, finding it rather a bit interesting all around !

  

The music ended as the band took a break. The bloke quickly deserted my sister for his side of the family and my twin made her sparkling, gown swirling way, threading through the guests, finally coming up to our table.

  

I had sat with dad, while mum and sis were up at the head table. We had sat with other members of Mum’s Friends, but they had all left to go to another table once the music had started. Mum had dropped her things off at our table, then Her and Dad had also gone off to visit.

  

So we were left at the table alone, to find our own devices to entertain ourselves.

 

Or at least my sister had to find entertainment, unbeknownst to her, I already had mine !

 

As we talked while sitting at the deserted table, I kept stealing looks at my twin sister’s jewels, which were still rippling with sparkles with every squirming move she made. And the little chatterbox was by no means ever still for long.

 

Then my sister began to absentmindedly play with her hair ( a sign she was getting bored)!

 

I saw one of her long earrings give a peek out, shooting out a mad shimmer before darting back into hiding. As I half watched, still deep in thought, she nonchalantly tugged at that sparkling earring, like it was going to be pulled off….!

  

Then, with sudden clarity, an overwhelming desire surged over me as a rather delicious, devious plot popped in my brain… How many different pieces of my sister’s jewels could I manage to lift at one event?

  

For you see, on that American tv show, the stranded folks had invited the thief to their fancy dress dinner. The girls had primped up, wearing fancy gowns, and lots of diamonds, much like the plentiful jewels sis ,the other bridesmaids and a few of the younger guests were so winningly wearing.

 

The people stranded on that island believed the thief when he had said he was reformed, but he had decidedly not been reformed, only pretending to be that way in order to rob them some more.

 

And the cheeky devil began to rob them again, centering on the ladies and their sparklers he did !

 

The one wealthy lady was wearing quite a lot of diamonds. Some of her jewels were quite similar to the ones my sister was wearing, including the dangling long necklace. This charming thief managed to smoothly slip that expensive looking necklace off from around the throat of her sparkly blue gown.

 

I think he also took one of her bracelets! She had had two, both shimmering around each wrist of her long gloves, like the single bracelet my sister was also wearing on a similar long glove, but where this lady’s gloves were white, sis’s gloves were the same colour and material of her gown.

 

A second lady had hair like my sister’s, long and worn down. She was also wearing these long earrings which were strikingly like the ones sis was now playing around with, as well as a diamond ring similar also to the one my sister had on.

 

The thief had managed to neatly slip off not one, but both of those pretty sparkly diamond earrings. And looking later, I believe he had also took her ring as he kissed her hand!

 

The third and last lady was wearing a plainer frock, with small diamond earrings and a matching pinky ring. I believe it was the ring that soon fell victim to this scoundrels wiles. I was not sure, because she had been the first one he had lured off to be alone with him, and it was before I realized just what he was up to.

 

But he had taken her hand, and something must have happened because the audience had been laughing, as they had done later in the show when the necklace, braclet, and earrings had been nicked.

 

So I played over in my mind several ways I could lift my twin’s jewels in a similar devious fashion as the “reformed” thief.

 

Now, as I was my deep in thoughts of acquiring some of her sparkling jewels, I had done a bit of squirming of me own, and, noticing with interest, my sister looked over at me, ” Bored too huh, wanna sneak out now?”

 

I had almost forgotten. But it may prove to be perfect for my schemes !

 

You see, we had passed a small playground, then some woods, as we then turned into the church parking lot. As we were getting out of the car, my sister had whispered that we should slip out later and check the area out.

 

So, looking carefully around to make sure we were not watched, we got up and snuck our way along the wall until we reached the hallway leading to the restrooms.

 

At the opposite end of that hallway, was a circular staircase that led upstairs and to the side exit leading conveniently out to the back parking lot.

 

So we now slipped inside the hallway, and after waiting until a couple of giggling older teenage girls , , looking like debutantes in their long flowy dresses, long haired tied up, and their fetching figures adorned with white pearled jewelry, passed us by.

 

We than scurried our way to the staircase, and up and out to our adventure.

 

It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon, blue sky with a few wispy clouds that greeted our exit to freedom.

 

Happily we made our way across the parking lot and up to a stone statute depicting the last station of the cross ( the resurrection) that was set on the edge of the wooded area. The rest of the stations apparently led along a path that winded along through the woods.

 

We followed the path, looking at the old statuary depiction of the passion walk. The faces of the figures in abrupt agony, most definitely putting a certain chill in the air.

 

Still we contentedly meandered our way through, my mind meanwhile still working on the problem of how to acquire the first of the brite jewels my sister was wearing in a most certainly quite inviting manner.

 

It was always a bit fun, the plotting of lifting her jewels!

 

And today was no exception, as I watched her flirt about in her long flowy gown, her guard now apparently down, as she seemingly appeared to be totally unaware that her jewelry was in peril of being snatched.

 

Much like those three, diamonds and frills wearing, lasses in that silly tv show had been unawares when welcoming the thief into their party!!

  

But of course, my stupid mind could not come up with any plan that I thought would be successful to carry out my desired deeds…And I had had quite a few come in and rejected out of my mind as being too cockamamie, while we were walking up that path!

 

Then my sister, bless her innocence, conveniently gave me an opening.

 

We had stopped in front of one of the statue stations. A bird had made its nest in the crook of the stone cross. Sis wanted to see it, and kicking off her shoes, had tried to climb up to see inside.

 

Acting like that gentleman thief from the show, I had helped her up, and held her by the waist as she leaned over and peeked in. Her brooch was dangling freely, and my fingers had clasped around the jewel. I carefully tried to locate and undo the clasp, but could not find it in time, before she found the nest empty and asked me to help her down.

 

If only the bloody nest had been full !!

 

I saw She had skipped off ahead of me a bit.

 

So at least she had not noticed or felt my attempt, so I was still at the bat in the wicket.

 

I began to replay what I remembered of the show. I looked over my sister as I did so. Her necklace? No, not in the way he did it.

 

I thoughtfully watched as my sister moved about, her gown fluttering merrily along her figure…hair flying out behind her

 

My sisters longish hair was loosely down, as his third pretty victims silky hair had been… the one with the dangly earrings he had managed to lift…

  

Her earrings then ? Hmmm..

  

But as I was formulating a plan to nab at least one of my sister’s earrings, she abruptly stopped. And letting out a small squeal and stooped over to pick something up from the path.

 

Damn, I was not paying attention and had allowed her to get far enough ahead that such an obvious opportunity was lost.

 

It would have been perfect, for there was no way to suggest having her bend down without arousing suspicion. But If I had been closer when she had innocently done it on her own, well who knows what mischief a little thing like falling over into her would have resulted into ?

  

She rose, and brought over to me a colourful stone that shimmered in her gloved palm much like her jewels. I held her glove hand up, looking at it, my eyes also watching the bracelet just dangling there for the taking.

  

I picked up the the stone from her hand, and let it slip out, allowing it to fall to the ground. “Clumsy” she scolded, and as she bent down to retrieve it, my fingers raced up to her bracelet. But she pulled her hand from mine as she retrieved the stone, and that opportunity slipped through my fingers also, as I lost hold of her bracelet before working the clasp.

  

She moved off, looking at the sparkling stone. I followed close, ready and watching for some new opportunity, observing her longish hair falling down along the back of her gown. I watched its silky mass as my mind wandered back to the circumstances I needed in order to create the opportunity for me to nick her cascading jeweled earrings.

 

In the show on the telly he had…

  

But before I could finish that thought, we Suddenly found ourselves in by a small narrow clearing, and my sister looking down the hill, saw the playground a distance off through the woods.

 

My sister grasped my arm, there it is, let’s go over she chirped! As my objectives, her earrings, swinging along from her earlobes, were dancing in and out of her hair as she pleaded.

 

I held my thoughts in check. Maybe the playground would offer up some nice easy possibilities?!

 

Even though the path did not go that way, we soon spied a well-used route, not stoned over like the one we were currently following, but unmistakable a short cut through to the playground.

 

I pointed it out and we happily took the path, heading off to the playground and all its assorted attractions.

 

We reached it in short time.

 

But It really was nothing much, just a few swing sets, totter, and a spinner. On the opposite side, probably some 120 meters, was a fenced area with signs warning of electric hazard.

 

My sister made for the swing and, pulling back her gown, slipped on one, facing the woods, her back to the rest of the playground.

 

She kicked off her tight heels, laughing. I sat on the swing beside her and we both just kicked back and forth a little, chatting away. I watched as her necklace bounced up and down upon her sleek chest as she swung. A thought struck me on a method to lift away her necklace.

 

I got up and began to push her, my hands upon her back. I couldn’t see the necklace from this position, her hair was covering it.

 

But I reached up each time she sung back and eventually had my hands upon her shoulder.

 

She leaned back giggling, her head bouncing against my chest, my objective sparkling within reach as it dripped down from her throat…and so were her earrings ! All so close and yet so far. My fingers itching to make a try, at something but I didn’t want to muck it up and be caught out on my first attempt either !

 

I repositioned my hands to the small of her back.

 

I found that my fingers travelled with effortless ease up along the backside of the slick material of her fancy bridesmaid’s gown.

 

But my attempt fell short of its objective, my fingers getting lost in her hair that lay splayed across the back of her pretty gown.

 

I kept pushing her on the swing, my mind going miles a minute. Maybe be a different approach was needed The spinner? Or maybe a game, like say blind man’s bluff?

 

My mind pounced on that, liking the thought, and I just happened to have a handkerchief in my pocket!

  

I stole a look around to see if ……

  

It was as I did so that I saw them.

  

Two boys and a girl, a few years older than us, leaning against two bikes, smoking right under that sign which clearly, strictly forbade smoking in the area.. There were definitely dressed as punks, spiky hair, chains, ripped jeans, the lot.

 

And certainly had been watching us with quite some interest.

  

At that point my sister’s swing hit against me, and I was moved back by the force. I kept my balance, as I saw that my twin had turned to see what had happened. She saw the group of three, and they saw her fully for the first time, in all her fancy dress, with the pretty rhinestones just sparkling away.

  

I had a dark inkling that we probably should not linger here any longer. I said so much to my sister.

  

Shoes she said, and I collected hers and quickly placed them back on her feet. I was watching past her and could see that the three had now formed a huddle.

  

I helped my sister up from the swing, and she straightened her gown, bending down, her necklace dangling temptingly loose.

  

It would just figure that I now had a perfect opportunity at that point, her hair had fallen forward exposing the necklaces clasp. But to say that the situation was less than ideal, would be an understatement.

 

So I took her arm and quickly led her off. Looking back I saw that one of the boys, his cig dangling from his lip, had moved towards us a bit, stopping and was watching as we left. Needless to say I felt a bit uneasy as we made our hasty retreat..

 

We gained the safety of the woods, and soon disappeared into the tree line, scurrying back up along the wooded path.

 

We finally reached back to the stony path of the passion statues, and felt a bit securer with each step we took, eventually starting to meander about, playing down all thoughts of the incident on the playground.

 

Actually we both started to feel a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, acting like a couple of fraidy cats!

 

Soon I found that my mind, regretting the lost opportunity at the play ground , was again working on my intriguing bits of my challenge.

 

All the while, I stole quick glances at my sister waltzing about.

I just could not get enough of her show!

 

The long shiny gown fluttering about with each step, as her jewels flashed with what I found to be a now more than just taunting show.

 

But there had been something about the way those punks had snapped to attention, when me twin sister had turned towards them.

 

I remember it was concerning a thought I myself had had after the American telly show was over..

 

The thief in the tv show had only taken a few of the copious diamonds the ladies had been wearing. I guess that I figured if he was luring them off, why didn’t he just take all of their jewels !?

 

It wasn’t like he was going to be caught and thrown into a jail was he now, stranded alone with them on the island ?

 

I looked at my sister wandering about, her gown moving fluidly hither and tither as she looked here and there. Those quite mesmerizing jewels keeping in flashy rhythm as she so innocently explored..

 

What if….?

What if indeed !

 

I slowed down, letting my sister get to wondering a bit ahead, pretending in my mind of being someone with a devious intent on the ( in my mind, real) jewels that were dangling and sparkling along this fetching lass clad in a shiny gown that swished and swirled about her figure in a rather enchanting fashion.

 

Much like the gowns and jewels those 3 stranded lasses on that island had been doing!

 

I stopped by one of the large white Stations of the cross and pondered it over..

 

My sister soon took a turn ahead of me on the path, disappearing around a corner.

 

There was a bench across the path facing the statue. Behind the bench was the large trunk of a rather ancient tree. I slipped in behind the trunk to hide .

 

Spying a short knobby stick at my feet I picked it up…may come in handy I thought a bit wickedly as I prepared to play at being Robin Hood!

 

Soon I heard her call my name, then silence, except for the swishing of her long gown as she quickly came back down the path. From a hole in a large bush, I could see was looking side to side, her jewels sparkling nicely, like those the poor lasses jewels had been wearing before their loss.. a loss of jewels Like this one was about to encounter!

 

I waited for her to innocently pass me by, as I lurked back from her sight in the shadows of my tree.

 

She suddenly stopped, catching a stone in one of her heels.

 

She limped over to the bench and stooping over pulled off the offending heel and shook it.

 

I dropped the knobby stick, smelling a new opportunity that was ripe for the picking..

 

I slipped out ,quiet as a church mouse, and snuck up behind her on the heels of my feet.

 

Reaching my intended victim without any notice, I held my hands over her eyes.

 

She immediately straightened up, I could feel her figure freezing rigid.

 

I could also feel her long earrings under my palms as I still held managed to hold my fingers over her eyes.

 

I bent over and said in her ear, ” guess who lass?” as I eyed up close several of my objectives just dangling there with no care in the world.

 

After I spoke, I started pulling my hands from her eyes, and lifted back her hair with my thumbs, while resting my fingers gently upon her earlobes. Both of her earrings dangling coolly from out underneath..!

 

Meanwhile She had breathed a sigh of relief at hearing my voice while placing her gloved hand upon her beating heart.

 

“Not funny” she scolded, looking forward. I was watching her ring and bracelet do their sparkling dance from her finger and wrist respectively.

 

As I positioned my fingers to slowly pull down the long earrings from her earlobes, I started to ask what had happened, hoping she would look down at her feet as I finished my attempt to slip away her eye-catching earrings.

  

But, before I could start my sentence, that quick, opportunity once again slithered away from my grasp !

 

For we both simultaneously heard it at the same time…

 

The slow squealing sound of tyres from a bicycle being walked, coming up to us some short distance behind us on the path, from the direction of the playground!

 

My sister turned her head, her earrings slipped from my fingertips, as my hands lost their grip and fell down upon her shoulders.

 

Bollocks I said under my breath, as yet another opportunity to steal away a piece of my sister’s jewelry was lost. This one just whisked from my grasp would have been the easiest yet!

 

“What’s that ?” she said, innocently turning her face up to look at me, earrings and necklace again shooting off their taunting sparks.

 

And I now had grown cold with the realization that I may not be the only one my sister’s jewels had been taunting !!

 

I put a finger to her lips and told her, quick, behind the statues!

.

I realized what the sound of the tyres meant, and they were gaining.

 

I helped my sister up and we both crossed the stone path, darting behind the cross station statue group.

 

As we skulked down behind it my sister again asked what I thought it was?

 

“Sush and, don’t move!” I told her, pulling her silky clad figure close to mine, feeling our hearts beating rapidly…

 

Soon we heard voices above the sound of the bikes tyres. There were only the two of them, two of the group of three who had been giving my sister the once over at the playground.

 

One ripped jean jacketed Boy and the spiky haired female. They were walking beside a bike, the boy still had a cig dangling from a crooked, sneering lip. I wondered what had become off the other boy?

 

The squealing of wheels got closer and closer and we watched through the thicket behind the statue group depicting Jesus falling for the first time, as slowly they walked the bikes past us, looking straight ahead on the path before them.

We quite clearly could hear them now.

 

He : “She came this way!”

She: “Think they were real…?”

He: “Naw, not on a kid like that, fake, but still the bunch might be worth a few bob… enough for cigs, maybe… plus whats in her shiny purse and the lads tie clasp, probably has a wallet, or some coins at the least!”

“Them rich kids always do have sometin, and they usually give no problem handing them over nicely, do they now? “ He said wickedly…

She: Giggling at some memory..

 

I heard my sister gasp and pulling her even closer, clamping my hand over her mouth

 

They had passed.

 

I heard the girl saying something, but it was broken up. The words, “that little darlings” followed by a mumbled sentence with a word that sounded like “peel”, and then clearly the words “shiny dress ..” , before they had rounded the corner and the rest of her words were lost to us.

 

We waited a good while, then stole along the path. As my sister walked on directly ahead, I was watching and listening , all too well aware of the reality of being ambushed and mugged by the pair…

 

An unsettling image flashed in my head, close to home, because it had been my idea also…

 

In my mind, the bike was now laying abandoned on the ground.

 

The rude spiky haired punk girl was heartlessly staring at my sister, whilst caressing with grubby hands, the soft gown my twin was now limply wearing along her figure.

 

As the punk lad, cig still hanging from a curled lip, was methodically searching said figure; locating and pulling off all the jewels my forlorn sister had been wearing, shoving his pockets with the shimmering lot as he displayed a rather evil grin.

 

I no sooner shook the thought from my head, then another entered it.

 

Where had that other lad gotten off too?

 

I imagined a pair of rough hands grabbing me and pushing me off the path, then approaching from behind my unsuspecting sister, much like I had intended earlier with the a stick. But in my mind, what the third one was holdin, was no stick!

  

Get a grip lad, I thought to myself, as I looked behind us. But the path seemed to be deserted enough.

 

We moved on, my sister wanting to ask a million questions, but I motioned to her to move away silently.

 

We cautiously made our way back along the path, looking and listening all about us.

 

Finally,( it seemed like forever) without further incident, we came out to the edge of the woods and the welcome sight of the parking lot behind the promised sanctuary of the church..

 

I could see up ahead, on the road leading from the parking lot, the pair still walking beside their bike. We watched until they had moved off out of sight. Then we both darted across the lot and got to the exit leading back down to the security of the reception going on below.

 

Once safely inside we caught our breaths, before scampering down the stairs. Both of us headed directly to the loo, shortly meeting up again inside the reception area.

 

People were still dancing and mingling, totally unaware that we had even gone.

 

Even our parents, when we met up with them back at our table, just calmly asked if we were enjoying ourselves. We looked at each other smiling, yes we said in unison as we both plopped down in our seats.

  

They then asked what we had been up to in order to amuse ourselves?

 

“Dancing! “ my sister chirped, then rising, she got me up and led me onto the dance floor to avoid further questions.

 

We began our dance, weaving our way in and out of the by now liquored up adults.

 

We mulled over the close shave we had had, and now that the danger had passed, looked upon the occurrence as a bit of a lark. But all thoughts had left of my plots on relieving my sister of her jewels. I felt that it would just would be bad cricket.

 

It was a slow dance and we mimicked what the other couples were doing, still awkwardly since we had not really had much experience at it. But it was enjoyable all the same.

 

I know she is just my sister, but as I was aware then of a certain inkling, one that I really grew to appreciate later on with my wife, there is nothing like the experience of holding a warm body in close dance, especially one that is clad in a shiny gown and even shinier jewels!

 

The music ended all too soon and we left the floor.

 

My sister stopped me, Well little brother she said ( she is older by a few minutes and never lets me forget), thank you for saving me, and she gave me quite an enveloping hug.

 

I told her it was nothing.. and she smiled sweetly up at me before we continued our way back.

 

As we walked I reached down to straighten my tie that I had felt flapping about. It was then I realized my clasp was gone.

 

I looked at my sister, walking on ahead… The little snit had taken it when she had been giving me a hug, pretending to be sincere!

 

Game on “older” sister I thought…

 

My sister slid on her chair at the table, smugly looking all the world like a jeweled cat that had caught the canary. Said jewels, , especially her necklace, still were dancing about with sparkles under the lights, like they too were mocking me..

 

Well missy I thought, lets try another dance then!

 

And with my mind I envisioned back to the time I had been successful at slipping off another of her necklaces while we had danced a couple of years back.

 

But I never got the opportunity, for the band was taking a break, and shortly our parents reappeared to collect us.

 

We got our coats from the check in, and prepared to leave…

 

And so it twas, that the evening ended late, and as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket. All opportunity seemed lost, at least till next time.

 

We went back up the stairs we had snuck out on earlier, and regained our car in the now dark parking lot.

 

We settled in the back of the car for the long trog home.

 

Soon she was fast asleep, lulled by the cars engine.

Again I smelled ripe opportunity !

 

I looked down at my passed-out sister, so peacefully dreaming away. I placed my arm around her shoulder, she did not budge. Her jewels were mostly hidden by her fastened velvet jacket.

 

I looked ahead at my parents, but they were not looking back, probably figuring we both were asleep.

 

Like a curious thief, I reached down and with upmost care, unfastened the three buttons that hide the treasures from view. After I had undid the last, I pulled her jacket open a bit then settled back and out of the corner of my eye, admired my handiwork !

 

Her now exposed sleekly soft lavender gown looked like it was pouring out along her figure from underneath the stark black velvet jacket. Her splendid collection of jewels were easy to find, as they occasionally sparkled as headlights from passing cars caught them up in their light.

 

Her necklace still holding a glittery court as it dropped freely from down around her throat.

 

So very pretty as it lay there shimmering, and so vulnerably within reach !

 

My fingers soon began their familiar tingling, my thoughts were racing...

 

What would that thief on the show had done?

 

There had been no cars on that show, they were on a deserted island after all.

 

I shook my head clear and settled back… then opened my eyes wide..

 

The most wicked, tantalizingly vexing, of thoughts washed over me with a delicious tingle.

 

But he had robbed them as they slept!

 

Plus my twerp of a sister did still have my tie clip, didn’t she now?!

  

I cautiously reached over and then around my twin’s slumbering form, moving my hand down along her side.

 

My fingers went inside her jacket, glided along her gown till I reached her glittery purse on the seat next to her. I managed to snap open the purses’ clasp, finding and lifting out my purloined gold plated tie clasp.

 

Putting it in my pocket, I looked the situation most carefully over, both my victims position, as well as the placement of her quite glimmering jewels.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to locate and move her jewels about, to see if my victim would stir. She did not! I could now feel the hooked clasp of her necklace.

 

I lifted up the chain, easily unhooked her necklace, and pulled it ever so carefully from around her throat, stealing glances at the rearview mirror, but our parents still were not paying us in the back any heed.

 

I finished sliding the necklace around, pulling it away. letting it dangle as a set of headlights from a passing car bathed it in sparkling array, then, reaching around my slumbering victims soft figure, deposited it inside the purse.

 

It was the best piece she was wearing of all her jewelry, and so naturally would be the first to be taken by any thief worth his salt under similar circumstances !

 

I reached back down, my fingers feeling along her still gloved arm till I reached her wrist. Then carefully placing a finger under it, lifted the bracelet before finding and then working open its’ clasp. Off it came easily, sliding snakelike from around her wrist. I reached over her again, and it soon landed on top of its mate in her purse .

 

She stirred a bit, and I reached my arm around my victim’s soft waist, pulled her a bit closer, and she soon settled in back to sleep.

 

Then I worked on her earrings next. Reaching in her hair, locating, then most cautiously started slipping off, each of her clasped earrings in turn. The twin buggers would not elude me this time!

 

It wasn’t easy, and took some tricky effort, but I managed it, and in careful turn, slowly, with most upmost care, caressed smoothly each long diamonded earring off her ears in turn. My victim felt nothing, did not stir again from her probably most pleasant dreams.

 

The purloined earrings also joined their glistening fellows on top of the growing pile inside her purse

 

Finally I found and worked off her ring from a gloved finger, greatly aided by the smoothness of said satin glove.

 

As I finished, I deposited the ring, clasped my sister’s purse shut, a job well done.

  

Feeling rather like an actual thief at that point, I finished the job by slipping the small purse, now weighty with gems, into my pocket.

 

I knew what just I was going to do next….

 

Last Autumn my twin had lifted my wallet while pretending to stand behind me fixing my collar to tuck in my tie. I had not caught on at the time, and when I did, she had had time to hide it. In order to get it back, she ransomed it by making me do a full weeks’ worth of her chores.

 

Well my sweet, conniving sister, what goes around, comes around !

 

All I had to do was keep her from noticing her jewels had been lifted.

 

While I dwelt over this thought I eyed over my victim admiring my handy work.

 

My sister turned a bit, mumbling a little.

 

She had stretched out and moved away a little, I had just finished relieving her of her jewels just in time!

 

But as I looked her over, I realized that I had missed a trick! With the next passing car, I saw her now exposed brooch glisteningly betraying its position!

 

I moved over, leaning, reached down and in, once again my fingers glided along her smooth gown, until I reached her satin sash. Using the sash as a path, I travelled along it till I reached the glittering holdout!

 

I lifted the jewel, and this time my fingers easily found its’ clasp. Working blind, I thought I had unpinned it, and began pulling the dangly brooch from her sash.

 

But It was still attached, and as I pulled up, my sister again stirred, waking up, mumbling.

 

She moved over away from me to the door, rubbing her eyes, still not quite awake.

 

I just casually started chatting my victim up.

 

My foremost intention was in keeping her attention diverted from discovering her missing jewels and purse till after we got home and I had had time to hide it!

 

She managed to say a few words, but the time between those words got long and longer, till she fell back to sleep, lulled in again by the motion of our car.

 

Forced to be satisfied with what I had, and still happy with the revenge that would soon be mine, I now comfortably settled back into my seat.

  

I looked over my sister’s now almost jewel less ( damn the brooch) , blissfully sleeping figure, and soon drifted off to join her in happy dreams of my own!!

  

I woke from deep sleep as we arrived back at our house after the 90 minute ride back from the county.

 

My parents got out and tasked me with waking my still sleeping sister , ( not always a pleasant task by any means, even to this day I bear the scars(smiles)), and then pushing her up to bed.

 

^^^^

We live in a split level. An attached garage was converted by a former owner into a master bedroom. This is where my parents would be heading. The other end, with its staircase leading upstairs was where I had to drag my sister. The three bedrooms and bath upstairs were our domain. Each of us having our own bedroom, and the third room was employed as a playroom/sewing room.

^^^^

 

I began to shake her awake, which, true to form, she rather grumpily tried to fight off.

 

Finally I just went to the other side and began to pull her out. She slowly, most painstakingly woke herself up and was able to manage finishing getting out on her own.

 

Leaning against me, still half awake, I helped her up the walk and led her inside the house. All the while snickering that she had no clue that her purse and other valuables were gone, hidden in my pocket, right under her very eyes!

 

At some point my sister had rebuttoned her velvet jacket, which helped my deception play out immensely.

 

Especially since once me dad had helped mum off with her faux mink jacket, she had come over and given us each a kiss goodnight. Her necklace, the twin to my sisters , still was glittering around her throat.

 

If either parental unit had noticed the my sisters missing jewels, I would have had some fast explaining how they came in my passion, and would have lost any hint of revenge. And it was my week to mow the bloody lawn !

  

Now feeling rather cocky as both parents left us alone, I went over to gallantly helped Sis, who had unbuttoned her velvet jacket, slip off it off , and hung it up for her.

 

She turned towards me on the first step thanking me. I accepted, secretly looking over her pretty gowned figure that I had so deviously stripped bare of its pretty ornaments, except of course that cursed taunting brooch, which was still freely dangling about at the sashed waistline of my sister’s gown!!

 

Turning off the downstairs lights, I followed my sister’s swishing progress ahead of me up the stairs.

 

I saw the unwary victim of my thievery to her room, across from mine, seeing her inside, as I closed the door behind her.

 

I went to my room, closed my own door and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Perfect I thought, saying under my breath, Game set and Match!

 

Figuring she should come knocking anytime now once she discovered her missing jewels as she was undressing, I laid out on my bed, still in my suit , and waited with eager anticipation till she did.

 

My thoughts went to a week without assorted chores, including mowing any lawns. Starting with tomorrow. No wait, tomorrow was Sunday. We were on our own , sis and I after morning Church. Our parents were leaving for the big city, shopping, a movie than dinner out to celebrate an early anniversary,, coming back in at around ten that evening.

 

My eyes opened, a deviously delicious thought had come creeping into my mind.

 

Give my twin a choice, my week’s chores, or spend Sunday after the parents leave playing the damsel to my thief!

 

We had played similar games before, my sister being a huge fan of robbing hood as she called Robin Hood, as well as our take on cops n Robbers, and something she came up with called “Help me Honey!” A game where I would have dual roles; she would direct me into placing her in peril, then have me come as a hero to rescue the damsel from the peril she had me put her in!

 

She could wear the same gown, her jewels, and her black velvet jacket with it if we went outside to the woods. Or better yet, mums mink would still be here ( Sis was always trying it on) !

  

I mulled over this for some time, while waiting for the expected knock to come….

 

I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened when the timid knock was finally made at my door.

 

It was 2:35 in the bloody morning!

 

I rolled out of bed and opened my door.

 

She was standing there ,rubbing her eyes and yawning. I could see her opened door across the hall, light spilling out.

 

She was also still clad in her elegant gown, looking like a half awakened princess .

 

And there it was, her twinkling brooch. It still dangled from its position on the sash at her waist. Its’ frenzied sparkles appeared to be mocking my failure at taking it along with the rest of its’ mates!

 

She hadn’t even made it past the bed in her room before falling unconscious upon it fully clothed !!

 

What’s up I asked, a bit grumpily, for I had all but forgotten what mischief I had been at.

 

“My jewels ?” she said miserably, “Their missing!”

 

“Are you sure?” I asked

 

That made her think a few seconds before answering, her still gloved hand feeling a diamond necklace and earrings that definitely were no longer sparkling there like they had been earlier .

 

“Yes I am sure they are gone !” she said rather miserably.

  

“You took them off twit, probably still on your dresser. Now go to back to bed ! “ I answered paternally , just wanting to do the same myself.

 

“No,” she said, forlornly shaking her head, “I went right to bed without taking anything off atoll, didn’t I, and she spread out her luxurious gown.

 

“ I’ve looked everywhere!” She pleaded.

 

“Was your window opened?” I asked, finally awake enough to tease.

 

“Yes, I always do, why?” she questioned.

 

“You fell asleep steal wearing your jewels!” I pointed out…

 

“Maybe a burglar broke in and took them off you as you slept?” I stated, as I reached over and pointed at the place her necklace had been dangling upon.” Looks like he picked you over clean now !”

 

“No” she said, again shaking her head, “there was no burglar, and besides no thief could do something like that, I would’ve been woken up !”

 

“I don’t know” I answered thoughtful, “Someone obviously got the whole lot off you, without you noticing !”

 

She shivered, “No there was no thief!” she still insisted…

 

“Lets go and see” I said, and had her turn, followed her swishy gown clad figure back to her room.

 

I asked if she had checked around the bed, she nodded yes. Check again I commanded and she obediently began looking.

 

As she did I went over to her opened window, and swiftly slipped her purse, still holding her jewels, from my jacket pocket and placed it out on the ledge. Rather forgetting my old plans, as a deviously new one developed, to make her believe a burglar had been in her room.

 

Sounds rather mean I know, but I was not fully awake enough to really reason out that aspect!

 

“You ninny I said, here is your purse ! “ She swished over to my side, and I pointed down.

 

She reached down and retrieved it, feeling its new heft, she opened it, revealing her sparkling jewels.

 

She than just stared up at me, disbelief in her sad puppy like eyes.

 

“Here now ,” I said, “let me show you, Go lay back on your bed” I instructed !

 

She submissively did so, slipping back up and looking at me blinking from her pillow.

 

She looked all the world like a sad forlorn young princess , like she did when I played her game with her.

 

I turned out her lights, laid the purse down beside her, then went to the opened window.

 

A stream of light from the moon lit up her bed, I could see her clearly as she lay there.

 

“This is what probably happened Sis…”

  

“The burglar came in through this window” I mimicked it..

 

“ He saw you there asleep , and came over for a closer peek.”

 

I moved in, and saw her shiver as I approached, her whole begowned figure moving as she inched up away from my menacing dark shadowy figure…..

“He saw you were wearing jewels, and decided that he certainly must have them for himself.” ,

 

My sister had shrunk back as I approached.

 

“He reached along, and began to..

 

My fingers had glided up along her quivering figure till I had reached her waist, where I then lifted up her brooch.

 

“He than steals your…”

 

She cut me off… “There was no thief! “she insisted her eyes wide, but I could see the beginning of doubt creeping in her voice.”

 

“That cannot happen, burglars cannot take jewels like that , not with out waking a person up!” she tried to argue, herself half believing it may have happened like that!..

  

Ignoring her protests, , I picked up the purse from where I dropped it, went back to the window.

  

“You must have startled him and he dropped the goods as he was leaving, and an ran off!”

 

She had turned white as a ghost, trying to disbelieve in my words.

 

“No, it didn’t happen, couldn’t !” she vainly still trying on insisting my scenarios away.

 

“Tell you what lets try an experiment “ . I suggested as I turned back on the lights.

 

I laid the opened purse down beside her, jewels inside dimly glimmering .

 

“Put your jewels back on then, go to back bed, and in a couple of hours once you are back asleep I will come in and ….Li”

 

“No” she said, cutting me off… “I still don’t….” then she stopped talking as she saw the smirk on my face

 

“Your right!” I said assuring her qualms ,”There was no thief. It was me, I took em and put them there.”

 

“You took them, you turd “she scolded, WHEN..HOW?” she directly appealed in a rather fetchingly imploring way…as she raised her arms up to me to help her up.

 

“Every thief has their secrets luv” I said, as she slipped off from the bed and stood looking up at me, then let out a rather wide Yawn..

 

I was looking her still begowned figure over, her brooch the only jewel left, still putting on a rather dazzling show as she finished her relaxing yawn, I realized just how long a day it’d been, and just how tired we both were.

 

It had, actually been a quite long event filled day!

 

“Maybe I’ll tell in the morning, its late, lets get you off to bed !” I said, and she leaned happily up against me, I wrapped my arms around her warm, slippery figure.

 

“Good night Sis “ I said and kissed her on the forehead, then started to leave.

 

“Good night Baby brother” , she said smirking, as she reached back behind her with gloved hands fumbling to undo the tied bow of her gowns’ sash…

 

“Here,” I said, “please allow me.”

  

I went up behind her, as she turned to allow me access to the satin bow tied at the back of her svelte waiste.

 

She giggled as I pulled her bow, making her move back closer to me, as I worked on loosening the satin bows knot.

 

“I am so glad you have reformed Mr thief, I can feel safe wearing my jewels around you !” she said with another giggle, as I pulled the bow apart,

letting the loose ends dangle freely down.

 

“Indeed, so you can! “ I said assuringly, my hands wrapping around her waist to give her a hug.

“And I owe it all to you!” I said into her ear.

 

“There now ” I said as released her with a gentle push moving her towards the dresser. “to bed with you”

 

“Good night sir” she said facing away, bending over to open a drawer.

 

I back up alongside her bed, stopping to watch her a minute as she fumbled around in the open drawer.

 

“Good night “ I echoed, watched as she turned to face me with a swish. Holding a silky nightdress in a gloved hand.

 

She just smiled at me as I left, closing her door behind me.

 

I stood with my back to her closed door, grinning…

 

I opened my left hand, looking down with satisfaction at the sparkling brooch I had easily lifted from her pretty gown while hugging her after untying her bow.

 

So much for reformation!

 

I then pulled her unclasped purse , boldly reclaimed from its perch on her bed, from my jacket pocket and slipped the newly acquired brooch inside to join the rest of her purloined jewels…

 

I congratulated myself, my mind already traveling to tomorrow, Sunday, and the stealing prospects it promised to bring.

 

I began to walk away from her door, stopping suddenly I turned and looked back.

 

I whispered out to the closed door…

Addressing my unseen sister on the other side, who would have finally removed by now her quite pretty lavender brides maids gown and exchanged it with her sleeping attire..

 

“ Lessons Learned Luv!” I whispered with devious intent, taking on my character for tomorrow .

 

“ Never trust a thief , and don’t ever turn your pretty back to one!”

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Gilligan’s Island,

Season 3

The Kidnapper with Don Rickles

 

What greater gift than the love of a cat.

 

― Charles Dickens

_____________________

 

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.

 

― Jean Cocteau

   

.

 

Riva Lehrer's section of trying to get a sense of scale concludes with her thoughts on a work that she made of Tim titled TIM/OWL (reproduced on the right) in which she reflects on his relationship with his daughter Temma.

 

trying to get a sense of scale was published by North Park University in conjunction with Tim Lowly's exhibition at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science Visual Arts Center. Like that exhibition this book focuses on work that Tim as done related to his daughter over the last 28 years. The book includes insightful texts by Karen Halvorsen Schreck, Riva Lehrer, Henry Luttikhuizen, Sherrie Lowly, Kelly VanderBrug and project editor Kevin Hamilton.

 

The 160 page, 10.5"x 9" book is extensively illustrated with over 70 color and 25 black and white illustrations.

 

You can purchase the book at the following links;

via Amazon

via the CIVA on-line store

via Koplin Del Rio Gallery's new on-line store: KDR Atelier

  

You can read more about the book on the CIVA blog

UPDATE 7/21/08: I am moving this one forward to let you know that the fire is getting well contained, they are doing fill burns to clean up the fuel inside the perimeter...

I guess there is still a little spot fire now up about a mile south of Bird Lake.. but I have faith that all these copters and awesome firefighters will handle it.. I hope!

 

There are other fires popping up all over the place... a 5-10 acre fire at the low end of the Big lava bed last night near Willard.... a huge convoy of fire trucks and crews were heading back from that last night around 11pm or so, making an eerie light brigade thru the forest throwing up dust that made moon rays coming thru the trees..

 

a tiny fire up near Tahklak lake they now call Sheep fire is being attacked by copters and crew very quickly... we are lucky that this huge crew is here already, able to jump on these quicker than would otherwise happen.

 

yikes! and the Smokey firesign still says FIRE DANGER: moderate!

 

I am still in TL, can't upload photos yet...

wanted to give you an update!

~ Darlisa

  

Taken from Mirror Lake just north of Trout Lake, Washington on the 82 road, a few miles north of where it was later barricaded on July 13th in the morning

 

my night shot was on the channel 2 news!

www.katu.com/news/25490264.html

 

this website was set up for this fire

www.inciweb.org/incident/1428/#sum

There is a wonderful huge crew now working on the fire, they are amazing.

 

Many other photographers have posted wonderful photos on this fire as well, for example:

 

my niece: www.katu.com/younews/25238089.html?img=1&mg=t

 

Carolyn: www.flickr.com/photos/luckyplanet/2675456098/in/photostream/

 

www.flickr.com/photos/oregonlahar/sets/72157606174061286/

    

Thank you all for your wonderful insightful and inspiring comments on the nighttime fire shot... I enjoyed them all so much! My computer is acting up, and I have little time now..bear with me! Come see the growing slide show of this fire at

www.flickr.com/photos/starlisa/sets/72157606175765673/show/

 

I will be posting a whole set of this fire starting at about 11:00 am Sunday July 13, 2008...

 

On July 13, 2008, this fire started in the morning as a small blaze with a spindly column that may have been smoldering since the lightning strikes in the area 8 days earlier. When I started observing the fire around 11 am, it was small... within 20 minutes I saw helicopters and tankers with retardant attack the small blaze. WHile they were returning to Troutdale to restock on retardant, the fire sprang to life wiith the growing winds and trees to the SE and to the west began to blaze up as the fire jumped from crown to crown. This area along the tree line of Mt. Adams is choked with dead trees that have not seen a fire in many years... and many standing dead trees from a heavy infestation of Spruce Bud Worm and Bark Beetles. There has been great debate for years about cleaning up this area, but many who fought to keep it natural. Naturally, in history, the area was occasionally swept by fire which renewed the grazing for elk and other critters, and encouraged the growth of the huckleberries.

 

Fire, the great destroyer and the great purifier all at the same time... a primeval force that is overwhelming if you are downwind... yet so awe-inspiring. How can something so destructive be so beautiful??? Destruction and Purification all in one... Nature balancing itself.

  

The Royal Liver Building, opened in 1911, is one of the most recognisable landmarks in the city of Liverpool with its two fabled Liver birds, which watch over the city and the sea. Legend has it that if the two birds were to fly away, the city would cease to exist.

Liverpool is famous for its music, its football teams, its maritime heritage, and its connection to The Beatles. With its many insightful museums, inspiring architecture, and culinary delights, there’s so much to enjoy in this amazing city.

"More than four thousand stylistic drawings, ten scale models, one wind tunnel model, two 1:1 scale models and countless ideas,

research and experiments on eight complete prototypes for a team effort that lasted more than six years. We put our passion, effort

and sacrifice into creating something timeless and cutting-edge in terms of technology.

 

After being completely absorbed by this strenuous creative process, the ideals represented by the project became so intimate to me,

that any attempt to describe it would have seemed inadequate.

 

Almost by chance I came across an old article by Robert Puyal, in which he described the first Zonda in 1999 in a surprisingly insightful way,

following a principle of simplicity and elegance similar to what I have sought from day one in the new project.

So I suggested to my colleagues in the communication department to invite him and let him narrate this new stage of our journey..."

  

Source: Pagani.

  

Photographed outside Pagani Factory.

 

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The thing is I wrote up this lengthy story about my entire Yosemite trip and how I lost my macro. I'm convinced it was hilarious, insightful, and well intentioned. I even posted it yesterday, but when I discovered a few typos (ok, lots) I somehow managed to select most of the text, press a key to overwrite what I had written and hit to return to save it on the page. All this happened quick enough to keep my brain from stopping my hands mid-accident.

 

Dagnabbit.

 

So if I was going to write a story now here's what the morals might be:

 

1. Never doubt yourself to out-idiot an idiot proof photo backpack.

2. Always zip up your bag after you're done. And ESPECIALLY before you put it on your back.

3. Triple check step 2 if you're standing on a bridge.

4. Don't let your friend capture the whole aftermath on video, it will only give them something to hang over your head for months and years.

5. Don't compose your next great novel in the flickr description window. It will only lead to tears as it doesn't have an undo.

 

Yeah, there's a video. But you don't want to watch it. It's long and its not my finest moment. I'm acting like an idiot because I'm extremely tired, and hungry, and hypothermia is closing in quick. At least that's my story. So let's just skip it and move on. K?

 

Happy Monday.

Slowly roaming the land with a thud, Gardian wanders around the edge of cities plucking any orphan he comes across, and plopping them on his back. Once in the tiny community of Gardian's gigantic back these orphans don't really have much to do, following the same daily routine. Stare at the world that plods and rumbles around them, maybe draw what they see, then roam in the small gap between sunset and nightfall when Gardian sits down for some sleep. This slow life almost forces all of Gardian's orphans into consuming ever drop of knowledge they can find, from the bookshelves inside the backshack, along with Gardian's slow but insightful words.

Once an orphan grows up and becomes a little too heavy to carry they'll normally jump off at the next city Gardian skirts past, and live a content life. The rare few carry Gardian's torch as a wandering carer, although what they care for varies wildly depending on their size and strength.

 

9" custom Tequila with super sculpy, miliput, and acrylic paint.

The Emotional Impact of Flowers Study was published in the April 2005 issue of Evolutionary Psychology.

Home Ecology of Flowers Study

Harvard: Living with Flowers Strengthens Feelings of Compassion, and Decreases Anxiety and Worry

 

With people’s desire for tranquility and stress relief stronger than ever, fresh research takes an insightful look at flowers and the important role they may play in our daily lives. A behavioral research study conducted by Nancy Etcoff, Ph.D., of Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School, reveals that people feel more compassionate toward others, have less worry and anxiety, and feel less depressed when fresh cut flowers are present in the home.

 

“Other research has proven that flowers make people happy when they receive them,” Etcoff says. “What we didn’t know is that spending a few days with flowers in the home can affect a wide variety of feelings.

 

The Home Ecology of Flowers Study at Harvard uncovered three main findings:

 

*Flowers feed compassion.

 

Study participants who lived with fresh cut flowers for less than a week felt an increase in feelings of compassion and kindness for others.

 

*Flowers chase away anxieties, worries and the blues at home.

 

Overall, people in the study simply felt less negative after being around flowers at home for just a few days.

 

Participants most frequently placed flowers in their kitchens, dining rooms and living rooms, where they spend a lot of time at home. They reported wanting to see the blooms first thing in the morning.

*Living with flowers can provide a boost of energy, happiness and enthusiasm at work.

 

Having flowers at home can have a positive carry-over impact on our mood at work, too. The study found that people were more likely to feel happier and have more enthusiasm and energy at work when flowers were in their home living environments.

“As a psychologist, I’m particularly intrigued to find that people who live with flowers report fewer episodes of anxiety and depressed feelings,” Etcoff says. “Our results suggest that flowers have a positive impact on our well being.” AND AM I NOT LIVING PROOF OF THAT???????? LOL????

View On proper Black

I adapted the lights and reflectors for the 'Flemish School of light' again, so suits these.

It is full on the time of the DOUBLE TULIPS in the shop... at the moment, I feel they 'might' be my favourites! They are a bit capricious, Baroque, so varied in shapes, with small oddities, I have become fascinated by them, aahh, and the colours, from deep red, through textured orange to veined yellow to green, the leaves also perform. my, and thad sweet honey fragrance... HMMMM, Love them.

 

I wish you all a very good day and thanx for all your kind words, time, comments and likes. Very much appreciated.

Magda, (*_*)

For more of my other work or if you want to PURCHASE (ONLY PLACE TO BUY MY IMAGES!), VIEW THE NEW PORTFOLIOS AND LATEST NEWS HERE on our website: www.indigo2photography.co.uk

IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

Toa of earth and Deputy of the toa Jetti, Onak is a quite yet insightful being. He may come across as gentle but when he has to, he brings a lot of power to the team along with a tactical mind

Today marked one of our generations greatest losses, I still can’t believe it. RIP to Stephen Hawking an incredible, inspiring and insightful scientist and man ❤️

 

06:25pm at home in Taunton. Day 27/365 of my picture a day challenge.

Emotions swell

Emotions Ebb & Flow

My Feelings Recess,..Then grow

finally seeking a release

Leaving evidence of what simmers

To the observant & sensitive it is an insightful glimmer

Wether it be Happiness to Release and let go..let God

Or The Release of Happiness...if I dare allow.

snapped @

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Dalsgaard/57/57/21

Continuing my brief "Madonna" series, here she is, a more detailed image than the impression I posted yesterday, with her latest award. This goes nicely with the creative non-fiction award she received the previous year, and the major award she received a number of years before that, when she was a radio documentary producer for the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation). If you're dedicated, and live a creative life, and have ideas and the drive to put your work out there... you may receive awards. Madonna Hamel is all of the above, and more. I consider it an honour to count her among my closest friends.

 

In addition to writing newspaper columns and producing documentaries, Madonna has been a backup singer in a blues band, lead singer in her own band, songwriter, published poet, book reviewer, teacher of creative writing, collage artist, and performance artist. I doubt that I've remembered everything - she is a force of nature, and whatever emerges from her is guaranteed to be both entertaining and insightful.

 

Concerning this photo, I know that a number of my Flickr friends say they don't photograph people. I do. Always have. I've never been interested in the studio portrait; this is about as close as I like to come to staging one of those, and my light source was just a couple of windows. Mostly I try to capture spontaneous moments from real life, and I find the best way to do this is to think of people as just another species of wildlife.

 

Photographed in Val Marie, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2022 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

"What is more pleasant than the benevolent notice other people take of us, what is more agreeable than their compassionate empathy? What inspires us more than addressing ears flushed with excitement, what captivates us more than exercising our own power of fascination? What is more thrilling than an entire hall of expectant eyes, what more overwhelming than applause surging up to us? What, lastly, equals the enchantment sparked off by the delighted attention we receive from those who profoundly delight ourselves? - Attention by other people is the most irresistible of drugs. To receive it outshines receiving any other kind of income. This is why glory surpasses power and why wealth is overshadowed by prominence."

 

Caterina Fake, Co-founder of Flickr, 2005.

 

Over the course of the past 4 years, about every 2 years or so I've written a blog post that has been one of my most popular entitled "Top 10 Ways to Get Attention on Flickr." It's been a few years, Flickr's changed a bit, and so I thought I'd take a bit of time today to outline some of the techniques that active power users use on Flickr to get more attention for themselves and their photos.

 

Fundamentally it comes down to a pretty simple equation:

 

quality photos + reciprocation² = attention.

 

But there are lots of other little tricks and tips, so let's get right into them.

 

1. The order that you publish your photos in matters -- alot. A lot of people will take 50 snapshots of that killer sunset on their vacation and then upload them at random to flickr. Some are better, some are worse. At Flickr, those that call you contact predominantly only see your last photo uploaded or your last 5 photos uploaded (depending on their settings) from the popular "your contact's most recent uploads" page. The other 45 are effectively buried. Always upload what you feel are your best, strongest, etc. photographs as the last five and save the very last spot for the photo you want to pimp the most.

 

2. Explore, you whore. Explore is a section of Flickr where Flickr highlights what they feel are 500 interesting photos every day.

 

I used to have photos show up in Explore pretty much every week. Then Flickr staff blacklisted me from Explore (and their help forum) about 7 months or so ago after I wrote a blog post criticizing Flickr staff for nuking a popular group on Flickr that I administered. Payback's a bitch, right?

 

After having photos regularly appear in Explore every week since it started, they capped my ass in there at 666 photos (cute, because I'm the devil, get it?). That doesn't mean that you shouldn't consider Explore though. It's probably the fastest way to get a lot of views on any of your photos. Whilst everyone bitches about how full of crappy photos Explore is, secretly you know you all love it when your photos show up there.

 

Flickr claims to have a "magic donkey" formula which picks the photos for Explore. This "magic donkey" is really just an excuse though to avoid transparency/accountability about Explore. In general, the more activity a photo has (activity = faves, comments, notes, blogged, etc.) the more likely it is to show up in Explore. By putting your best foot forward (see item 1) and by focusing on promoting a popular photo of yours on a given day, (see below) it just might get there.

 

3. Promote your photos outside of Flickr. What are you doing to promote your photos outside of Flickr? Some things are super, super easy and involve no active participation on your part other than setting something up. Popular content aggregators on the web allow you to publish your Flickr photos out of Flickr, with valuable links back to your photos on Flickr.

 

Have you configured Flickr Tab on your Facebookery page yet? Why not? It's free and easy.

 

Have you signed up for Google Buzz yet? Google Buzz does a great job presenting your Flickr uploads and has a killer lightbox feature that allows people to see your photo BIG (if you allow it) on Google Buzz. I'm faving more Flickr photos that I'm finding on Google Buzz these days than from any other source. I fave more photos from Google Buzz than even Flickr itself.

 

Have you linked your stream to a FriendFeed account yet?

 

How about a photoblog? Anyone can set one of these up. They are so easy. And they have cool widgets that can do a lot of automated things for you. Check out the widget I'm using for my Flickr photos (to the right over there). It's called Fidgetr. It automatically pulls in the six most recent photos from my "10 faves or more set" on Flickr, making sure fresh new photos are constantly being published to thomashawk.com. Don't those large thumbnails rock!

 

4. Avoid watermarking, small-sized low-res photos, frames and other gimmicky crap. People don't want to see this stuff. It's a turn off. It pushes them away. Yes, yes, I know, you cry, but the thieves, the photo thieves, they all want to steal from me. GASP!

 

Get over it. You know what happens when people steal your stuff? Recently a friend of mine had an image of hers taken by a commercial entity. Do you know what we did? We contacted them, and after a little arm-twisting they paid her $700 for her photo. You know why? Because they had to. Because she could have sued them if not and probably gotten a lot more than $700 if she was inclined to put the time in it. Courts award statutory damages (not actual damages) for copyright theft. Trust me. If you like getting paid $700 for your photos, you WANT people to steal them. Put a big sign on the photo. "Steal Me, I Dare You."

 

With tools like Tineye, it's getting easier and easier and easier for you to find unauthorized commercial use of your photos on the web.

 

Sure, some dude is going to print up your big bouquet of sunflowers shot and hang it in his living room to impress his friends while they drink beer and watch football and you'll never find out about that use. Trust me, that dude wouldn't have paid for your photograph in the first place anyways.

 

As a byproduct, uploading full, glorious, high res, original photos to Flickr gives you one more backup of your precious photos in the cloud.

 

5. Moooooooooooo. Do you know about moo cards? Get some. They're cheap -- well, at least the little ones are cheap. Give them to everyone you can. When you are out and about and people talk to you about your photography say (in your best Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad voice possible) "Hey Yo, I'm slinging this camera, check me out here Yo," and hand them a moo card. Trust me, it works.

 

6. Groups. Most groups on Flickr are a waste of time. Dead groups where photo whores dump billions of photos in dead pools that nobody cares about and nobody sees. Your photos are quickly buried deep, deep, in the pool, never to be seen or heard from again. Avoid these groups. They typically have names like "Baskets! Show us all your photos of baskets!" or "You Say Tomato, I Say Tomato, show us all your photos of tomatoes!" Don't just dump your photo into 30 random groups.

 

Instead pick a few meaningful groups and actually hang out there and interact with people. You might consider a local group for where you live. Or a photo critique group. Or whatever. But find a few active groups (meaning several new threads are engaged in a day) and participate. I belong to a number of groups on Flickr, but 95% of my Flickr group time is spent in the critique group DMU. (Note, DMU is uncensored and not for everyone. Remember above where I told you that Flickr nuked one of our groups? yep.)

 

7. Fave it Forward! Have you heard of Billy Wilson? Because if you haven't, you will soon. Not to be confused with his second cousin and other Flickr legend Billy Warhol, Billy Wilson is the original Flickr fave machine! Billy has favorited more photos than anyone else on Flickr and he's showing no signs of slowing down. Want to know what happens when you fave almost 200,000 photos on Flickr? Just check out Billy's stream. How's that for getting some attention? Fave Billy Fave!

 

Now, you don't actually have to copy the Billy Wilson favoriting machine. He's an original and that's his gig. But. Don't be stingy with your faves either. If you like something fave the hell out of it. You can start here at my "10 faves or more set" if you'd like. You have an unlimited amount of faves to give out on Flickr. People love getting faves. People reciprocate.

 

Be like Billy, fave it forward.

 

Same goes for comments too. If you like something say so. Maybe you can be the next "nice photo" guy. Or maybe you can be known as that super hot chick who writes deep, meaty, insightful, witty, quirky comments on people's photos -- especially then, you'll be loved.

 

8. Tag for discovery. You know how people find many of your photos? Search. Don't be "that guy" who tags the 300 most commonly used keywords to your photos no matter what they are. I don't want to see that photo of your bikini clad girlfriend when I'm searching for puppy. Good boy.

 

But. Be descriptive. Be sure to tag the place the photo was taken. The subject matter. Anything relevant that people might use to search for your photo. Consider geotagging as well. The more discoverable your photos are, the more likely they'll be seen on Flickr.

 

Oh, also keyword at the file level, not on Flickr itself. It's much faster to keyword and geotag that way and also when Flickr ends up nuking your account (KABOOM!) you won't lose all of those tags and geotags that you worked so hard on adding to your photos. When you tag/geotag at the file level, these tags/geotags are automatically populated at Flickr when you upload your photos. Read about my workflow here for more on that.

 

9. Are you allowing the search engines to index your photos? If you aren't, you should be. You can check your settings on that here. I'd estimate that about 20% of the traffic to my own Flickr photos comes from search engines. Oh, and while you are in your settings, you might want to take a second and turn safe search off, we're all 18+ adults here right, even if Flickr does treat you as a child by default? Filtered Flickr sucks.

 

10. Certain subjects just seem to garner more attention. In general I've found that certain subjects tend to do better on Flickr than others. Your (and my) Egglestonian masterpiece of the sidewalk curb? Not so much.

 

But. Subjects that seem to garner a lot of attention. Attractive women (number one attention getter on Flickr, especially self portraits), motion or blur, silhouettes, images with stories in the description, some HDR, bokeh, abstract architectural photography, bridges, cityscapes, artwork by famed graffiti artist Banksy, you get the idea.

 

Also sometimes an interesting looking thumbnail will pull people in as well.

 

Well there you have it. 10 tips to get you more attention on Flickr. Use them in good health and with good company.

 

Disclaimer: remember my equation above? "quality photos + reciprocation² = attention" It doesn't matter how much work you do optimizing the promotion of your photos if they suck. Find your voice. Make your style. Create your art. But put time, energy and pride in the work that you share. Make the world a more beautiful place with the amazing work that you are capable of creating. The best photos in the world have yet to be taken.

 

Oh, and one final way to get a lot of attention on Flickr? Write long blog posts about getting attention on Flickr. It works every time. ;)

 

You can find me on Flickr here.

Dystopia opens the 19th with Black Wall, a conceptual photography and audio performance, created by visual artist Noke Yuitza and music composer Alexi Ayres with the collaboration of photographer Melody Trouble, included in the first chapter of Dystopia art installation for Linden Endowment for the Arts (SIM 24). Black Wall aims to immerse the audience in an environment of utter abyss in hopes to spark insightful inspiration.

 

Alexi Ayres will be performing a Live soundtrack concert on Saturday 3/19/2016 at 2PM SLT. Join us!

 

Read more:

evestudio3d.wordpress.com/2016/03/12/dystopia-episode-1-b...

.

 

A page spread towards the beginning of trying to get a sense of scale a new book on Tim Lowly's art. On the left is a quote from a letter to Tim from his friend, the Swiss artist Stephan Jon Tramér. This was a particularly significant observation that helped Tim clarify what was to become an ongoing direction for much of his work - and the focus of this book. On the right is the recent painting Bower.

 

This book was published by North Park University in conjunction with Tim Lowly's exhibition at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science Visual Arts Center. The book includes insightful texts by Karen Halvorsen Schreck, Riva Lehrer, Henry Luttikhuizen, Sherrie Lowly, Kelly VanderBrug and project editor Kevin Hamilton.

 

The 160 page, 10.5"x 9" book is extensively illustrated with over 70 color and 25 black and white illustrations.

 

You can purchase the book at the following links;

via Amazon

via the CIVA on-line store

via Koplin Del Rio Gallery's new on-line store: KDR Atelier

  

You can read more about the book on the CIVA blog

With Dementia there are days when it is all you can do to stand still and wait for the runaway freight train to run right over you. Today was one of those days. Words did not appear so sentences did not form, balance was difficult and my grip meant dropping everything I held. As the day went on things do improve, enough to go for a short evening walk with Melanie and to feel the lovely Spring sunshine on my face. Camera, hell yeh! Its a sobering thought that this is the direction I will be going in from now on but as they say "Tomorrow is another day"

 

What is interesting is I have been asked to join a Dementia Research Project that illustrates changes in perception over time as the condition progresses. My mentor wants me to see how my ability and influences change with my photography, other recipients have different aspects of there life such as painting or writing. Could be instructive and insightful moving forwards and empowering in a way.

I have long paced myself to posting two images a day, but recently I have been trying to pair those images up, make them similar in some fashion or another to each other. Call it a left-over from posting Paris and Edinburgh where I forced myself to post the same body of images for a long period of time, thereby breaking out of my usual habit of just posting to whatever whims suited my fancy on any particular morning or evening. It isn't an attempt to say more, per se, for if I wanted to do that I could post more, but that could easily become the equivalent of photographic babbling. Someone who stands in front of a group and just runs off strings of words at the mouth doesn't necessarily communicate anything more, they just get more words out. I am just trying to work against my usual Flickr tendencies and pair images up.... for a while.

 

And which pair of images to end the year with? I tossed this one back and forth a bit and honestly did not come up with any amazingly insightful answer. So in lieu of that, I will turn to my old pal, the St. Johns Bridge. So many things have begun there, photographic and otherwise, it makes a good place for so many things to end as well with the year wrapping up, including this image at the end of one particular day. Or rather no particular day, but a particularly pleasantly unassuming one.

 

Get all that? ;-)

Brunos Sculpture Garden, Marysville. Nestled amongst the luscious rainforest setting lives a collection of unforgettable characters lovingly hand crafted by Bruno from clay and fired onsite in his kiln. Bruno has created a world rich with fantasy and insightful beauty derived from his imagination and inspired by his intrepid journeys to some the world most intriguing and remote regions. .

Unfortunately on the 7th of February 2009 a bushfire raged through the township, decimating everything in its path without mercy and claimed the lives of our friends and neighbours indiscriminately. Bruno was extremely lucky to survive and the rest of the family are safe and well. Bruno's home and art gallery were unfortunately completely destroyed in the blaze. .

Bruno chose to stay in Marysville to rebuild his home and restore the gardens. Bruno’s passion to share his love of art and the story of life with the world has not been damaged by the fires, in fact you would almost say it has been forged anew by the flames that nearly took it all away. (Excerpts from Bruno's Art & Sculpture garden website www.brunosart.com)

Practicing with make up and trying new outfits while traveling.

I had only two pairs of pantyhose and two pairs of stockings with me. [The stockings were still with me from previous travels, see the 1992-05-17 (Madison, Wisconsin) album.] Unfortunately I ruined the two pairs of pantyhose and so had only the stockings to wear. During my previous experience I did find them comfortable for "everyday activities."

I took them on an "extended outing" in this outfit by going to the post office and a restaurant (where I felt overdressed for this town!) As before I enjoyed the occasional rubbing and Shh-Shh sound, but didn't enjoy the pulling of the individual garters that occurred when using stairs or while driving. (See end note for interesting memory.) By the way, the stocking shade is taupe. I think this shade produces a much better leg look than off black or black.

Ego boost - While leaving the post office, a gentleman who was entering held the door for me. I walked about 20 yards (18.3 m ) to my car and when I turned to get in the car I noticed that he had not yet entered the post office and had probably been watching me (hopefully in admiration).

A relevant and humorously insightful aside - Has this ever happened to you, have you ever done this? The person that gave me directions to the restaurant often referred to places that were no longer there, such as, turn right where the hardware store used to be. Obviously, as an out-of-towner this description meant nothing to me and I had to keep asking for current landmarks.

End Note: In the sixties, when pantyhose were first becoming popular, I remember reading an article on the advantages of pantyhose over stockings and garters. One advantage was safer driving. The reasoning was that the tug of the garter on the stocking caused one to overcompensate when depressing the accelerator leading to greater acceleration, but with pantyhose this did not occur. This article was probably put out by the Pantyhose Promotion Partnership.

Luostarinmäki.

Turku Finland

 

Thanks to my friend moggierocket for her insightful tips.

I would like to hope that my St Louis sketches show to a small extent the rich architectural heritage that grabbed me the moment I parked my rental car on Washington Avenue and started wandering around.

 

With this sketch I stood there for some minutes completely in wonder at these great buildings. But how can I draw them? The scale, the quiet of the street, that gap, the glowing light above the deep shadows.

 

The building on the left is vacant, a proposal to convert it to condominiums is on hold. (Chemical Building, 721 Olive St.) There is an effort to bring residential into the downtown area, I hope it works. The city has great bones and could become a vibrant place to live.

 

I found this article on downtown living in St Louis, the discussion is worth a listen and the comments from residents there are insightful reading.

 

" incredible architecture AND affordable housing - if we can get the schools right we won't be able to keep people away!"

 

news.stlpublicradio.org/post/living-downtown-st-louis-liv...

 

To complete the drawing, these two men slowly walked by, very intriguing, homeless clearly but independent and passing through.

Featuring works by sculptor Elizabeth Insogna (on the right), painter Karen (Karsen) Heagle (on the left) and performance artist and folklorist Kay Turner.

 

held at Five Myles Art Gallery (one of my favorites) in Crown Heights Brooklyn

 

an insightful article about about the exhibit:

brooklynrail.org/2022/11/artseen/Hekates-Grove-Elizabeth-...

Today’s NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope Picture of the Week features a sparkling cloudscape from one of the Milky Way’s galactic neighbours, a dwarf galaxy called the Large Magellanic Cloud. Located 160 000 light-years away in the constellations Dorado and Mensa, the Large Magellanic Cloud is the largest of the Milky Way’s many small satellite galaxies.

 

This view of dusty gas clouds in the Large Magellanic Cloud is possible thanks to Hubble’s cameras, such as the Wide Field Camera 3 (WFC3) that was used to collect the observations for this image. WFC3 is equipped with a variety of filters, each of which lets through only specific wavelengths, or colours, of light. This image combines observations made with five different filters, including some that capture ultraviolet and infrared light that the human eye cannot see.

 

The wispy gas clouds in this image resemble brightly coloured candyfloss. When viewing such a vividly coloured cosmic scene, it is natural to wonder whether the colours are ‘real’. After all, Hubble, with its 2.4 metre-wide mirror and advanced scientific instruments, doesn’t bear resemblance to a typical camera! When image-processing specialists combine raw filtered data into a multi-coloured image like this one, they assign a colour to each filter. Visible-light observations are typically matched to the colour that the filter allows through. Shorter wavelengths of light such as ultraviolet are usually coloured blue or purple, while longer wavelengths like infrared are typically coloured red.

 

This colour scheme closely represents reality while adding new information from the portions of the electromagnetic spectrum that humans cannot see. However, there are endless possible colour combinations that can be employed to achieve an especially aesthetically pleasing or scientifically insightful image.

 

[Image Description: A part of a nebula in space. It is made of layers of gas and dust clouds in different colours, from blue and green shades to pink, red and black, indicating light emitted by different molecules. The background cloud layers are thicker and puffier, though still translucent, and the upper layers are thin and bright at the edges. Behind the clouds are very many small, mostly orange and some blue, stars.]

 

Credits: ESA/Hubble & NASA, C. Murray; CC BY 4.0

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I really have nothing insightful or witty to say about this post today. Perhaps maybe that I've been experimenting with some post-processing to give a couple of my more recent images a different look. Split-toning win.

 

More of my shots from above. Press "L".

Historical research reveals that diverse political rationalities have framed the political means and objectives of state frontiers and borders, just as the difficult work of making borders actual has drawn upon a great variety of technologies

The single word ”border” conceals a multiplicity and implies a constancy where genealogical investigation uncovers mutation and descent. Historical research reveals that diverse political rationalities have framed the political means and objectives of state frontiers and borders, just as the difficult work of making borders actual has drawn upon a great variety of technologies and heterogeneous administrative practices, ranging from maps of the territory, the creation of specialized border officials, and architectures of fortification to today’s experimentation with bio- digitalized forms of surveillance. This chapter argues that we are witnessing a novel development within this history of borders and border-making, what I want to call the emergence of the humanitarian border. While a great deal has been written about the militarization, securitization and fortification of borders today, there is far less consideration of the humanitarianization of borders. But if the investment of border regimes by biometric technologies rightly warrants being treated as an event within the history of the making and remaking of borders (Amoore 2006), then arguably so too does the reinvention of the border as a space of humanitarian government.

Under what conditions are we seeing the rise of humanitarian borders? The emergence of the humanitarian border goes hand in hand with the move which has made state frontiers into privileged symbolic and regulatory instruments within strategies of migration control. It is part of a much wider trend that has been dubbed the ”rebordering” of political and territorial space (Andreas and Biersteker 2003). The humanitarian border emerges once it becomes established that border crossing has become, for thousands of migrants seeking, for a variety of reasons, to access the territories of the global North, a matter of life and death. It crystallizes as a way of governing this novel and disturbing situation,and compensating for the social violence embodied in the regime of migration control.The idea of a humanitarian border might sound at first counterintuitive or even oxymoronic. After all, we often think of contemporary humanitarianism as a force that, operating in the name of the universal but endangered subject of humanity, transcends the walled space of the inter-national system. This is, of course, quite valid. Yet it would be a mistake to draw any simple equation between humanitarian projects and what Deleuze and Guattari would call logics of deterritoralization. While humanitarian programmes might unsettle certain norms of statehood, it is important to recognize the ways in which the exercise of humanitarian power is connected to the actualization of new spaces. Whether by its redefinition of certain locales as humanitarian ”zones” and crises as ”emergencies” (Calhoun 2004), the authority it confers on certain experts to move rapidly across networks of aid and intervention, or its will to designate those populating these zones as ”victims,” it seems justified to follow Debrix’s (1998) observation that humanitarianism implies reterritorialization on top of deterritorialization. Humanitarian zones can materialize in various situations – in conflict zones, amidst the relief of famine, and against the backdrop of state failure. But the case that interests me in what follows is a specific one: a situation where the actual borders of states and gateways to the territory become themselves zones of humanitarian government. Understanding the consequences of this is paramount, since it has an important bearing on what is often termed the securitization of borders and citizenship.

Foucault and Frontiers

It is probably fair to say that the theme of frontiers is largely absent from the two courses that are today read together as Foucault’s lectures on ”governmentality” (Foucault 1991; 2007; 2008). This is not to suggest that frontiers receive no mention at all. Within these lectures we certainly encounter passing remarks on the theme. For instance, Foucault speaks at one point of ”the administrative state, born in the territoriality of national boundaries in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and corresponding to a society of regulation and discipline” (Foucault 1991: 104).1 Elsewhere, he notes how the calculation and demarcation of new frontiers served as one of the practical elements of military-diplomatic technology, a machine he associates with the government of Europe in the image of a balance of power and according to the governmental logic of raison d’état. ”When the diplomats, the ambassadors who negotiated the treaty of Westphalia, received instructions from their government, they were explicitly advised to ensure that the new frontiers, the distribution of states, the new relationships to be established between the German states and the Empire, and the zones of influence of France, Sweden, and Austria be established in terms of a principle: to maintain a balance between the different European states” (Foucault 2007: 297).

But these are only hints of what significance the question of frontiers might have within the different technologies of power which Foucault sought to analyze. They are only fragmentary reflections on the place borders and frontiers might occupy within the genealogy of the modern state which Foucault outlines with his research into governmentality.2

Why was Foucault apparently not particularly interested in borders when he composed these lectures? One possible answer is suggested by Elden’s careful and important work on power-knowledge and territory. Elden takes issue with Foucault for the way in which he discusses territorial rule largely as a foil which allows him to provide a more fully-worked out account of governmentality and its administration of population. Despite the fact that the term appears prominently in the title of Foucault’s lectures, ”the issue of territory continually emerges only to be repeatedly marginalized, eclipsed, and underplayed” (Elden 2007: 1). Because Foucault fails to reckon more fully with the many ways in which the production of territory – and most crucially its demarcation by practices of frontier marking and control – serves as a precondition for the government of population, it is not surprising that the question of frontiers occupies little space in his narrative.But there is another explanation for the relative absence of questions of frontiers in Foucault’s writing on governmentality. And here we have to acknowledge that, framed as it is previously, this is a problematic question. For it risks the kind of retrospective fallacy which projects a set of very contemporary issues and concerns onto Foucault’s time. It is probably fair to speculate that frontiers and border security was not a political issue during the 1970s in the way that it is today in many western states. ”Borders” had yet to be constituted as a sort of meta-issue, capable of condensing a whole complex of political fears and concerns, including globalization, the loss of sovereignty, terrorism, trafficking and unchecked immigration. The question of the welfare state certainly was an issue, perhaps even a meta-issue, when Foucault was lecturing, and it is perhaps not coincidental that he should devote so much space to the examination of pastoralism. But not the border. The point is not to suggest that Foucault’s work evolved in close,

Humanitarian Government

Before I address the question of the humanitarian border, it is necessary to explain what I understand by the humanitarian. Here my thinking has been shaped by recent work that engages the humanitarian not as a set of ideas and ideologies, nor simply as the activity of certain nongovernmental actors and organizations, but as a complex domain possessing specific forms of governmental reason. Fassin’s work on this theme is particularly important. Fassin demonstrates that humanitarianism can be fruitfully connected to the broader field of government which Foucault outlined, where government is not a necessary attribute of states but a rationalized activity than can be carried out by all sorts of agents, in various contexts, and towards multiple ends. At its core, ”Humanitarian government can be defined as the administration of human collectivities in the name of a higher moral principle which sees the preservation of life and the alleviation of suffering as the highest value of action” (Fassin 2007: 151). As he goes on to stress, the value of such a definition is that we do not see a particular state, or a non-state form such as a nongovernmental organization, as the necessary agent of humanitarian action. Instead, it becomes possible to think in terms of a complex assemblage, comprising particular forms of humanitarian.reason, specific forms of authority (medical, legal, spiritual) but also certain technologies of government – such as mechanisms for raising funds and training volunteers, administering aid and shelter, documenting injustice, and publicizing abuse. Seen from this angle humanitarianism appears as a much more supple, protean thing. Crucially, it opens up our ability to perceive ”a broader political and moral logic at work both within and outside state forms” (ibid.).

If the humanitarian can be situated in relation to the analytics of government, it can also be contextualized in relation to the biopolitical. ”Not only did the last century see the emergence of regimes committed to the physical destruction of populations,” observes Redfield, ”but also of entities devoted to monitoring and assisting populations in maintaining their physical existence, even while protesting the necessity of such an action and the failure of anyone to do much more than this bare minimum” (2005: 329). It is this ”minimalist biopolitics,” as Redfield puts it, that will be so characteristic of the humanitarian. And here the accent should be placed on the adjective “minimalist” if we are not to commit the kind of move which I criticized above, namely collapsing everything new into existing Foucauldian categories. It is important to regard contemporary humanitarianism as a novel formation and a site of ambivalence and undecideability, and not just as one more instance of what Hardt and Negri (2000) might call global “biopolitical production.”The Birth of the Humanitarian Border

In a press release issued on June 29, 2007, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) publicized a visit which its then Director General, Brunson McKinley, was about to make to a ”reception centre for migrants” on the Mediterranean island of Lampedusa (IOM 2007). The Director General is quoted as saying: ”Many more boats will probably arrive on Lampedusa over the summer with their desperate human cargo and we have to ensure we can adequately respond to their immediate needs.... This is why IOM will continue to work closely with the Italian government, the Italian Red Cross, UNHCR and other partners to provide appropriate humanitarian responses to irregular migrants and asylum seekers reaching the island.”

The same press release observes that IOM’s work with its ”partners” was part of a wider effort to improve the administration of the ”reception” (the word ”detention” is conspicuously absent) and ”repatriation” of ”irregular migrants” in Italy. Reception centers were being expanded, and problems of overcrowding alleviated. The statement goes on to observe that IOM had opened its office on Lampedusa in April 2006. Since that time ”Forced returns from Lampedusa [had] stopped.”

Lampedusa is a small Italian island located some 200 km south of Sicily and 300 km to the north of Libya. Its geographical location provides a clue as to how it is that in 2004 this Italian outpost first entered the spotlight of European and even world public attention, becoming a potent signifier for anxieties about an international migration crisis (Andrijasevic 2006). For it was then that this Italian holiday destination became the main point of arrival for boats carrying migrants from Libya to Italy. That year more than 10,000 migrants are reported to have passed through the ”temporary stay and assistance centre” (CPTA) the Italian state maintains on the island. The vast majority had arrived in overcrowded, makeshift boats after a perilous sea journey lasting up to several weeks. Usually these boats

are intercepted in Italian waters by the Italian border guards and the migrants transferred to the holding center on the island. Following detention, which can last for more than a month, they are either transferred to other CPTAs in Sicily and southern Italy, or expelled to Libya.Finally, there is a point to be made about humanitarianism, power and order. Those looking to locate contemporary humanitarianism within a bigger picture would perhaps follow the lead of Hardt and Negri. As these theorists of ”Empire” see things, NGOs like Amnesty International and Médecins sans Frontières (MSF) are, contrary to their own best intentions, implicated in global order. As agents of ”moral intervention” who, because they participate in the construction of emergency, ”prefigure the state of exception from below,” these actors serve as the preeminent ”frontline force of imperial intervention.” As such, Hardt and Negri see humanitarianism as ”completely immersed in the biopolitical context of the constitution of Empire” (Hardt and Negri 2000: 36).Humanitarianism, Borders, Politics

Foucauldian writing about borders has mirrored the wider field of governmentality studies in at least one respect. While it has produced some fascinating and insightful accounts of contemporary strategies and technologies of border-making and border policing, it has tended to confine its attention to official and often state-sanctioned projects. Political dynamics and political acts have certainly not been ignored. But little attention has been paid to the possibility that politics and resistance operate not just in an extrinsic relationship to contemporary regimes, but within them.12 To date this literature has largely failed to view politics as something constitutive and productive of border regimes and technologies. That is to say, there is little appreciation of the ways in which movements of opposition, and those particular kinds of resistance which Foucault calls ”counter conduct,” can operate not externally to modes of bordering but by means of ”a series of exchanges” and ”reciprocal supports” (Foucault 2007: 355).

There is a certain paradox involved when we speak of Foucault and frontiers. In certain key respects it could be said that Foucault is one of our most eminent and original theorists of bordering. For at the heart of one of his most widely read works – namely Discipline and Punish – what does one

find if not the question of power and how its modalities should be studied by focusing on practices of partitionment, segmentation, division, enclosure; practices that will underpin the ordering and policing of ever more aspects of the life of populations from the nineteenth century onwards. But while Foucault is interested in a range of practices which clearly pertain to the question of bordering understood in a somewhat general sense, one thing the reading of his lectures on security, governmentality and biopolitics reveals is that he had little to say explicitly about the specific forms of bordering associated with the government of the state. To put it differently, Foucault dealt at length with what we might call the microphysics of bordering, but much less with the place of borders considered at the level of tactics and strategies of governmentality.Recent literature has begun to address this imbalance, demonstrating that many of Foucault’s concepts are useful and important for understanding what kinds of power relations and governmental regimes are at stake in contemporary projects which are re-making state borders amidst renewed political concerns over things like terrorism and illegal immigration. However, the overarching theme of this chapter has been the need for caution when linking Foucault’s concepts to the study of borders and frontiers today. While analytics like biopolitics, discipline and neoliberalism offer all manner of insights, we need to avoid the trap which sees Foucault’s toolbox as something ready-made for any given situation. The challenge of understanding the emergent requires the development of new theoretical tools, not to mention the sharpening of older, well-used implements. With this end in mind the chapter has proposed the idea of the humanitarian border as a way of registering an event within the genealogy of the frontier, but also, although I have not developed it here, within the genealogy of citizenship.

 

What I have presented previously is only a very cursory overview of certain features of the humanitarianization of borders, most notably its inscription within regimes of knowledge, and its constitutive relationship to politics. In future research it would be interesting to undertake a fuller mapping of the humanitarian border in relation to certain trajectories of government. While we saw how themes of biopolitical and neoliberal government are pertinent in understanding the contemporary management of spaces like the detention center, it would seem especially relevant to consider the salience of pastoralism. Pastoral power has received far less attention within studies of governmentality than, say, discipline or liberal government (but see Dean 1999; Golder 2007; Hindess 1996; Lippert 2004). But here again, I suspect, it will be important to revise our concepts in the light of emergent practices and rationalities. For the ways in which NGOs and humanitarians engage in the governance of migrants and refugees today have changed quite significantly from the kinds of networks of care, self-examination and salvation which Foucault identified with pastoralism. For instance, and to take but one example, the pastoral care of migrants, whether in situations of sanctuary or detention, is not organized as a life-encompassing, permanent activity as it was for the church, or later, in a secular version, the welfare state. Instead, it is a temporary and ad hoc intervention. Just as Foucault’s notion of neo-liberalism was intended to register important transformations within the genealogy of liberal government, it may prove useful to think in terms of the neo-pastoral when we try to make better sense of the phenomenon of humanitarian government at/of borders, and of many other situations as well.

williamwalters.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/2011-Foucau...

Shadow is a feminist!

 

This is an insightful essay on feminism....

 

The works of Blans are “unusual” paintings, endowed with a highly

sculptural nature: white wooden panels on which alluring abstract

forms (Fleeting and Fugace), made of transparent material, fabric,

black ink and other media, stand as on a stage waiting to be

activated by the light, be it natural or artificial. Once projected onto

the artwork, the light reveals the existence of a secret world hidden

just beneath the surface of the visible and physical dimension. The

viewer is thus intrigued by the existence of multiple layers

encapsulated within the works of Blans, both from a physical and

ontological point of view. The first layer visible is the actual scene

dominating the outer surface of the piece with its physicality and

illuminated by natural light: the realm of reality perceived and

recorded by the viewer’s eye, unveiled even to the casual observer.

The second layer corresponds to a more secluded dimension,

disclosed within and at the same time thanks to the presence of

the empty spaces left on the wooden panels employed and that

become alive only under certain lighting conditions. This dimension

is the site where the ethereal shadows projected by the physical

shapes portrayed in the piece intermingle with each other and

merge with the inward reflections produced by the viewer’s eye of

the mind: it is the point where the mental and the physical

converge. By contemplating a work endowed with evocative rather

than mimetic qualities, the observer engages into a process of

inspection that soon leads towards unexplored emotional yet

physical realms. Therefore, Blans’ works find their ultimate reason

for being in the gaze of the beholder that completes them and,

from a certain point of view, even undermines the possibility of a

unique, preferential visual solution.

The use of virtuosic yet extemporaneous lines to shape images along

with the insightful intermingling of full and empty spaces in artworks

like Fleeting convey a sense of rhythm to the compositions and bears

affinities to the iconography of traditional Chinese painting. Also in

Blans’ pieces the void rises to a dynamic role being far more than a

mere backdrop, a non-space or the site of emptiness: it is the crucial

element allowing movement and action, both physically and

psychically. By being complementary to the solid sculptural parts in

the composition, the void creates a ground for experience, a space for

one to live in, and to loose oneself within. The powerful connection

between the filled and the empty spaces is made possible by the

particular use of a comprehensive visual vocabulary made of fabric,

thread, transparent material, sand, tree branches, rooted once again

in Blans’ enamourement with the feeling conveyed by each specific

material. Despite their extreme concreteness, each of these elements

vividly grasps and puts forth the transient nature of all natural

phenomena, their fragility and temporariness.

In this way Blans’ works invite the viewer to confront not just what

lies bare in front of one’s eyes, but also what lies beyond the physical

limits of the gaze. They are visual reminders of the fact that what

one sees is a fragment of a larger continuum perceivable both physically and psychically.

Went to the screening of NOSTALGIA by Haolun Shu @ MoCA Shanghai last night. Thought the documentary was a great take by a local about longtangs (despite some out-of-place clips in the middle). Overall it was amusing and insightful, and very personal. It won Winner of the Reel China 2006 Best Documentary Award. Not sure when it will be showing next though...

 

More info here:

haolunshu.spaces.live.com/

 

* * * * *

 

Photo is part of my own:

the LONGTANG project.

This photo of me is part of a panoramic shot that was taken by my son at a Purim party at the Gould’s house in Brookline. Massachusetts on March. 16, 2014.

 

As far as I know, this was the only photo of me taken during the Purim Party. We are in the living room with a large L-shaped table. The women are in the dining room to the left, also with many seats at the tables. I wandered a bit and took pictures everywhere. There was lots of singing, dancing, and discussion. It was heavenly.

 

The men who can give talks about the holiday that are quite insightful and interesting. Ben gave a brilliant talk. I was so proud of him!

 

I then asked to speak, and I spoke on three topics. They were well received. In one I showed how Ben's talk finally explained something that had always been unclear to me. (Ben liked that.;)

 

When I finished, the host said he still remembered the talk I gave the last time I was at his table. That was about more that 15 years ago, just after Ben's wedding. At that time I spoke about the physics of how HaShem actually created the Universe... I had forgotten that I spoke there, and I as thrilled by our host remembering the hot, dense, compact state at the beginning of creation. It's really described in Nobel prize winner Steven Weinberg's book "The First Three Minutes."

 

It was a costume party, and I fit right in with my EOS 70D Canon camera strap...;) I was dressed in a photographer's costume. And, everyone enjoyed having their picture taken.

 

I loved Ben's Galaxy Note 2 phone with its large screen that is very legible. I could effortlessly read the Hebrew Pages for Mincha, the daily afternoon service, on his phone!! That was delightful...;) I can't do that on my iPhone 4S screen.

 

Fortunately, I love to attend Mincha, the daily afternoon service, so I am quite familiar with the service.

I updated a colour version of this over a month ago. You guys said it was asymmetric and that it would look better in BW. So I went back to this building last week and here it is - considering there is a sign right in the centre of the building, I don't think I would be able to do much better in terms of symmetry, but it's definitely better in monochrome, and going there and taking this shot again was a very insightful experience; not something I would have done without the group.

 

Thanks for the feedback and for always teaching me something, cubes!

my nieces often invite me to eat in oriental restaurants, the use of chopsticks is always a difficulty for me, the waiter of the Nippon Ramen, insightful and intuitive, brought me a fork before I asked for it.

 

A piece of electronic moving pixel board art pano-sabotaged and translated into black and white Art. Electronic, cartoon-like "people" walk back and forth across this large street screen set on Bloor Street East in Toronto.

 

As soon I shot it I immediately thought of Marcel Duchamp's famous painting, "Nude Descending a Staircase".. Only this time the PoV comes from the side.

 

Still working to create Pano-Sabotage Art in Black and White. Exploring as many avenues that come to mind in the development of this medium

__________________________________________________

 

Subtitled from an idea created by Greg Lawler's comment below, "they look like spirits".

 

Bill Smith's incredible, erudite and insightful comment regarding Marcel Duchamp and his found art, the "Ready Mades", and this homage to Duchamp was so profoundly on point that I'm capturing it and copying here where it can be seen in higher profile. What I deeply appreciate is not so much his praise for my piece, which I gratefully acknowledge, it's the brilliant insight into the Duchampian aspects and significances he sees in this piece.

 

Heeeeeere's Bill ....

 

"This is great on so many levels. Not just an interesting photo, but using your TECHnique on a found ARTifact of modern TECHnology. Duchamp had his "readymades", which were actually prepared and altered in various ways from what he found. We have digital manipulation of found digital imagery. Artistic creations from technical creations from practical applications." - Bill Smith.

__________________________________________________

 

Black and White Pano-Sabotage continues. "Pano-Sabotage" is the technique of deliberately MIS-using the smart phone's pano camera function to create marked and unique effects WITH THE CAMERA. Some post processing is done for balance and contrast etc, but the EFFECT of the "facetized" imagery is done IN the camera, AT the moment of shooting.

 

See the Flickr group, "PANO-Vision" for a gallery of said imagery as practiced by a small roster of dedicated, serious artists who are pushing this medium into fantastic new places.

___________________________________________________

 

© Richard S Warner ( Visionheart ) - 2016. All Rights Reserved. This image is not for use in any form without explicit, express, written permission.

 

My Website: visionheartblog.wordpress.com

Why, oh why, do I write so much with my images...I’m sure many of you have asked the very same thing when faced with masses of text and ‘not’ enough time to read it... (Jokes welcome)

 

Making the time to write about the images I take, or the topics inspired by them, allows me the space to reflect on the experience and delve into areas of my own mind that I haven’t yet discovered... it allows me to formulate and synthesize new ideas from others that are on the tip of my mental tong. It allows me evolve critical perspectives and challenge my assumptions. But most importantly it allows me to develop. Making myself write about things that I’m interested in is often quite hard work, but ultimately incredibly rewarding when new incites are uncovered.

 

So why do I need to share this in such a public way? Presenting my thoughts here first puts subtle pressure on me to make sure what I’m saying isn’t total crap. I see it as a kind of critical peer appraisal. This enables me to engage and communicate with you guys, which offers me a very much appreciated alternative perspective. I have some wonderfully insightful and talented contacts and I must thank you for your engagement here.

 

I’m also aware from reading and contributing to many of your work, that I’ve learned a great deal from others here on flickr and I hope this symbiosis is productive to all... anyway I know we all have busy lives and writing and reading lengthy texts (especially ones that haven’t been edited carefully) can be very tiresome, but making the space to develop is a liberating experience, (for me anyway). I’d fully encourage those of you out there that find inspiration from others writing and haven’t already tried it yet, to give it a go, you may be surprised what you learn. I’ll shut up now...

 

Note: This shot was taken just next to the other shot previously posted and I did consider posting this one first, because I feel it has more elements to engage with and it’s good to compare the two side by side. They both have similar technical execution but very different feelings due to the foreground. Man the geology around this area is wonderfully smooth and very interesting. It makes a refreshing change to explore a new area with such contrasting elements... did I say that I’d shut up.....?

 

ift.tt/2fYgpBK

Slow Tears -

 

I look up

as a tear rolls slowly

down my cheek

I think about better days

and wonder if I'll feel that way again

you look at me

with those eyes I know so well

always serious, so deep and insightful

as though you're always in control

But not today

not now

Now you look so scared

like for once you don't have the answer

I gaze at you

looking deep into those hazel eyes

Hoping to understand

why you've said those things you did

I wonder for a moment

if this is all a dream

if I shall wake in the morning

and be relieved

you look at me

with a confusion I have never seen

slowly pull me towards you

and wipe the tears from my cheek

 

Lacrime lente -

 

Alzo lo sguardo

e una lacrima rotola lentamente

sulla mia guancia.

Penso a giorni migliori

e mi chiedo se mi sentirò così di nuovo.

Mi guardi

con quegli occhi che conosco così bene

sempre seri,profondi e penetranti

e sempre così controllati.

Ma non oggi

non ora.

Ora ti guardo con tanta paura

e per una volta non ho spiegazioni.

Ti guardo...

guardo in profondità quegli occhi color nocciola

sperando di capirti.

Mi chiedo per un attimo

se questo è tutto un sogno,

se mi sveglierò domattina

e sarò sollevata.

Mi guardi

con una confusione che non ho mai avuto.....

lentamente mi tiri verso di te

e asciughi le lacrime dalle mie guance

 

Martini

The perennial favorite, Smith Rock, Oregon. Diving into my photographic archives to refurbish ancient images using modern technology and methods is both enjoyable and a clear indication of technological progression. I am grateful for and value the innovators of new processing methods and the creators of insightful tutorials- you know who you are. I also eagerly anticipate future technological developments.

 

This is a single image (-2 EV) taken with the Nikkor 14-24 f/2.8 lens and Nikon D700, using a linear camera profile to edit this photo in Lightroom, with custom curves (gamma, end-points, mid-tones, and local/global tone mapping contrast) and final editing in Photoshop using Adobe Lossless RAW layers.

 

Copyright 2024 Chris Ross Photography. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, share, link, or use this image in any form- print, digital, or otherwise- on blogs, personal or professional websites or any other media form. This work is protected by international copyright laws and agreements. No part of this photo stream may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without my permission.

Brunos Sculpture Garden, Marysville. Nestled amongst the luscious rainforest setting lives a collection of unforgettable characters lovingly hand crafted by Bruno from clay and fired onsite in his kiln. Bruno has created a world rich with fantasy and insightful beauty derived from his imagination and inspired by his intrepid journeys to some the world most intriguing and remote regions. .

Unfortunately on the 7th of February 2009 a bushfire raged through the township, decimating everything in its path without mercy and claimed the lives of our friends and neighbours indiscriminately. Bruno was extremely lucky to survive and the rest of the family are safe and well. Bruno's home and art gallery were unfortunately completely destroyed in the blaze. .

Bruno chose to stay in Marysville to rebuild his home and restore the gardens. Bruno’s passion to share his love of art and the story of life with the world has not been damaged by the fires, in fact you would almost say it has been forged anew by the flames that nearly took it all away. (Excerpts from Bruno's Art & Sculpture garden website www.brunosart.com)

I've been tagged. A big part of me is my work, so here are my 10 favorite papers I've published:

 

2009- The effects of repeat collaboration on creative abrasion

We developed a theory of why repeat collaboration in highly creative projects can lead to less creative outcomes, and suggested what teams can do about it.

 

2007- Dynamics of organizational emergence: Pace, punctuation, and timing in nascent entrepreneurship

We posited and empirically validated that successful entrepreneurial ventures have a certain “rhythm”; it’s all about momentum.

 

2006- An emergence event in new venture creation: Measuring the dynamics of nascent entrepreneurship

This was the first paper published in organizational theory that actually collected data and tested a complexity science model.

 

2003- Merger as marriage: Communication issues in post-merger integration

Not widely read, but I love how insightful the metaphor is.

 

2002- Studying complex discursive systems: Centering resonance analysis of organizational communication

This was the paper that explained the computerized text analysis method we invented, which then spun off into its own company.

 

2002- The dynamics of electronic media coverage

Our analysis of media coverage of 9-11.

 

2001- Supply networks and complex adaptive systems: Control versus emergence

This was the first paper published in supply chain management discussing the implications of complexity science. Most cited article.

 

1999- Explaining complex organizational dynamics

Here we laid out what randomness and chaos meant if you found them in organizational data.

 

1997- A complex adaptive systems model of organization change

My definition of a complex adaptive system in this paper is the one used in Wikipedia.

 

1986- An integrated quality systems approach to quality and productivity improvement in continuous manufacturing processes

My first published paper…

explored

 

I'm just going to talk about how i feel okay? it makes me feel better. It lets me organize my thoughts.

 

I'm at home today, drugged up on benadryl, sleepy, tired, sick, sad, and nursing a bee sting hoping that my decision to not drive to the doctor's office wasn't a bad idea. it was hell getting home from work. benadryl makes me a road hazard and im glad im at home now :|

 

I havent been feeling my best the past few days. and nothing seems to make these feelings go away. My parents are glad im home more often now, but i bet they wish i wasnt so quiet, so reserved, so not me.

 

i wish i could shut down. i wish i could go away back to tallahasee, to california, to miami to anywhere but here. but i cant keep running away. i cant keep running from the fear of being hurt or the pain associated with life, the thought that i caused someone pain.

 

i wish people would leave me alone and let me shut down. let me disappear. let me hurt. let me grow. but with any good support team, they wont leave me alone. and i love them, all of them.

 

i have been drifting in and out of sleep the past few days. i have been missing calls and texts, not bothering to reply. I'm out of focus, and unresponsive.

 

i addressed the situation, analyzed it accordingly to what i thought, and ended with a conclusion and a make-shift solution. but no amount of analyzing or rationalizing has done its job of making me feel better about the situation.

 

i havent felt this feeling since i left California for Florida. deep sorrow for what i did.

 

but I'm resilient, I'll be okay.

 

this week has been rough on a lot of my close friends, so many break ups so many people to comfort, it hurts to hear your friend's voice crack when they tell you how much they've just been crushed. Your problems become insignificant to theirs. I'm needed. I don't reserve my love for anyone, I have an overflow to give. I love everyone.

 

I'm resilient, I'll be okay.

 

so what if it hurts me

so what if i break down

so what if this world just throws me off the edge

my feet run out of ground

i gotta find my place

i wanna hear my sound

dont care about other pain infront of me

cause im just tryna be happy, yea

just wanna be happy, yea

 

Happy by Leona Lewis

 

Tribute to the lovely Anna Gay whose photos somehow always gives me strength and her stories always insightful.

 

project 365: day 339

TOTW: Copycats & Testimonials

 

decluttr

      

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For Sherrie Lowly's contribution to the book trying to get a sense of scale she mined her journals for entries related to Temma. You can read more about this on her blog: Sherrie's writing blog

On the left is a detail of the painting Desert Stream

 

This book was published by North Park University in conjunction with Tim Lowly's exhibition at the Washington Pavilion of Arts and Science Visual Arts Center. Like that exhibition this book focuses on work that Tim as done related to his daughter over the last 28 years. The book includes insightful texts by Karen Halvorsen Schreck, Riva Lehrer, Henry Luttikhuizen, Sherrie Lowly, Kelly VanderBrug and project editor Kevin Hamilton.

 

The 160 page, 10.5"x 9" book is extensively illustrated with over 70 color and 25 black and white illustrations.

 

You can purchase the book at the following links;

via Amazon

via the CIVA on-line store

via Koplin Del Rio Gallery's new on-line store: KDR Atelier

  

You can read more about the book on the CIVA blog

(If you comment "TL:DR" I will passionately hate you. If this is too long to read, skip it, but you don't need to tell me about it.)

 

"Do you ever thinking of getting into a different job?"

Salem glanced up from his arc welder, a sense of dread creeping in. He

never knew what to expect when Anvil started like this. It could be the

lead up to a painfully stupid pun, or it could be the start of a question

about something mundane that somehow reveals a soul jarring truth about

society. Salem was slowly adjusting to Anvil's strange ability to be

absurd one moment, and frightfully insightful another. It was a fitting

parallel to Anvil being Salem's partner in business and yet quite

possibly also a spy for the enigmatic Green Corp. Anvil was a double sided

coin.

Sighing deeply, Salem finished his cut and turned his welder off. "Like

what?" he said, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"Something that isn't run by a company who shares name with a villian from

a movie."

"You watch to many ancient vids. Skynet may be almost on par with a

villain from a vid, but that could be said of all the corporations. And

they pay good."

"Other jobs might pay as good."

"I say again, like what?"

"Like-" Anvil grunted, helping Salem lift the large square of metal away

from the roof and drop it off to the side, "Garbage men."

Salem dropped his end of the plate a little too fast. "Garbage men?" he

asked, surprised. He and Anvil stopped for a moment to look around and

make sure no one heard the loud crash of the plate falling.

"Yeah, y'know, a job where people don't notice you, or shoot at you." If

Anvil was making a joke, his face didn't show it.

"Is this still about Tokushima posting a bounty on us? Skynet has made

sure that it won't be a problem." Salem lowered himself through the hole

they had cut in the building's roof. Anvil crouched on the edge beside

him, covering their rear, "No... well, maybe yes. It just seems like we

are working in a very dangerous field."

Salem looked up, wondering if Anvil was serious. "We're being paid to

shoot things and acquire valuable items. Of course it is dangerous. But we

get to shoot things, and buy gear and armor not available to normal people

like garbage men."

Anvil dropped down into the hole, his feet thumping on the metal grating

of the maintenance room they had cut into.

"Okay, fine, so maybe not garbage men... what about being mercs? They

still get to shoot stuff."

They slowly crept down a narrow passage way leading to a discrete door

that would open out into their target room.

"How is that any less dangerous then what we currently do?"

Salem leaned up against the wall beside the door, Anvil took the other

side.

"I don't know, at least they don't get sent in alone, or when they do it

isn't against the odds we get put against," Anvil whispered to Salem,

nodding that he was ready.

"Yeah but if you are a merc..." Salem turned and ferociously kicked open

the door, pausing the conversation to line up shots on the surprised

guards of the room he was entering. Anvil followed right behind him,

taking the other side of the room. Their Greyhound rifles punched neat

holes through the low-grade armor of the armed guards. The room was

spacious, being almost a full two floor tall, decorated in the round edged

cube fashion that currently very popular. Everything was either a clean

pure white, or a vibrant solid color. Accents were a polished black

chrome. It was the typical highrise penthouse of someone with current

tastes. Which struck Salem as strange, as he thought they were supposed to

be raiding a laboratory. However, the guards were all geared in the

appropriate uniforms, with the right badges. This had to be the correct

place, though why someone would do research on experimental wet-drive data

storage in a penthouse instead of a laboratory didn't make much sense.

Shaking his head free of these thoughts, he finished checking the room.

All clear.

"You were saying?" Anvil asked over his shoulder, holding his rifle aimed

down the hall towards the entrance in case anyone else was in the building

and may have heard them. This was supposed to be the only occupied room at

this time of night. The scientists were all at home, main security was

off, just leaving this guard room that separated the rest of the penthouse

from the room that held the prototype that Salem and Anvil were sent to

"acquire."

Salem paused, remembering what he had been in the middle of saying before

the strangeness of the room had distracted him.

"Ah... yes. Mercs don't get the privilege of having morals. If you want

to be a professional merc who gets hired to do anything interesting, you

most likely need to be willing to throw ethics out the window. In our line

of work we do similar jobs, but all that the suits paying us care about is

that we get the package, they don't care how."

"So we can be careful, avoid innocent casualties... or be reckless and

blow everything up. Doesn't matter which?"

"Exactly."

"That is what I was thinking, this is a good job."

Salem shook he head, "Then why did you even ask if you didn't actually

want to change jobs?"

Anvil shrugged and thought for a minute, then grinned, "Oh, there was a

pretty girl working with the company who picks up the garbage from our

apartment block."

"Anvil... I swear, if you weren't so freakishly gifted at this job, I'd

kick you out this penthouse's window this very instant."

Anvil winked, "Probably, but I am, so you won't. Besides, you've said

yourself that life was fairly boring before I came and-"

"Started intentionally making jobs more complicated and dangerous?"

"-made jobs more interesting."

"Yeah, that may be, but that doesn't mean I can't be angry with you at the

moment." Salem gestured to the door that lead to the package, "After you."

Anvil plugged a hacking module into the keypad and turned back to face

Salem with a grin, "You can try."

"I hate you."

 

(Comments and notes are welcome, desired even. On both the gun and the story.)

(Like, seriously. Comments make my day.)

(Especially on the story.)