View allAll Photos Tagged Intellection
The Reality – I wanted to show the reality that dominates not only the life of this primate, but our lives also. We are the prisoners of our biology and our limited intellect. The evanescent nature of our short lives and hopelessness in the face of imminent death, defines our ultimate limitation. The constrains imposed by our crude society, religion, economy and other factors of human civilization, draws me to see the great cage similar to this one, which holds this fellow and will be the place of his death. In the future, things may change for the better – I see the signs. But our generation may not be able to profit from the changes that will come. Like the countless people that came before us, death will catch up with all of us who lives in the present. It is the ultimate cage and ultimate limiter of life. This is “The Reality”.
“For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.”
― John Milton, Areopagitica
Visit Grande Galerie du Louvre
The soul is known in the experience of the world and the world is known in the experience of the soul . . . In poetic intuition objective reality and subjectivity, the world and the whole of the soul, coexist inseparably. At that moment sense and sensation are brought back to the heart, blood to the spirit, passion to intuition. And through the vital and nonconceptual actuation of the intellect all the powers of the soul are also actuated in their roots.
-Jacques Maritain, Creative Intuition in Art and Poetry (Providence, RI: Cluny Media, 2018), 113
When a generous individual can no longer meditate discursively, “he should learn to remain in God’s presence with a loving attention and a tranquil intellect”, even though this seems like idleness to him. Soon he will find little by little that a “divine calm and peace with a wondrous, sublime knowledge of God, enveloped in divine love, will be infused into his soul”.
-THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. FIRE WITHIN St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and the Gospel—on Prayer
Yellow. Yellow is a color associated with sun. It symbolizes optimism, energy, joy, happiness and friendship. It might also stand for intellect. On the contrary, yellow can indicate jealousy, betrayal, illness and danger.Mar 8, 2016
With heartfelt and genuine thanks for your kind visit. Have a wonderful and beautiful day, be well, keep your eyes open, appreciate the beauty surrounding you, enjoy creating, stay safe and laugh often! ❤️❤️❤️
The imprisonment is not irksome anymore. it has become a part of me. My soul is enervated, tired of hitting itself to the rigid walls of this scarce cell. there is no way out, it is understood. No sun, no moon, no dark, no light, no dim, no bright... senses have been immured in a dilemma of nothingness, and hollowness. The wetness of eye, the thirst for water, the aridness of throat, the sluggishness of intellect, the race of breaths, the flow of blood, and the beat of heart, all signs of this journey seem to fade away... It's this sole existence and this ceased universe, where there is no variation either day or night. No sound, no motion: static. A wait: my existence is an eternal wait.
Starting a new set today: black and white landscapes from the badlands of Alberta. On my most recent trip to this location - which I have visited many times since 1988 - I realized by Day 2 that I was seeing the landforms in black and white. From that point on, I shot with monochrome in mind - although, by shooting RAW, I did retain all the colour information: a sort of fail safe, because sometimes I'm wrong.
This time, however, my instincts were on the mark. The black and white versions are much more interesting than the colour. There really wasn't a lot of colour there, aside from blue skies and the earthy hues of brown, yellow, and rusty red. Colour, of course, is a crowd pleaser. The eye delights in colour. I'm no different. Colour triggers an emotional response: red is exciting, like fire and blood and birth and death; blue is cool and calming; green reminds us of the natural world; yellow stimulates the intellect; black is mysterious and dramatic - and so on.
Take that away, and you'd better know how to put an image together. You have lines, shapes, textures. I cut my teeth on black and white, which was cheaper way back in my early days (shooting film in the 1960s). It provided me with a grounding in visual literacy that probably has helped my colour photography, too.
Photographed in Dinosaur Provincial Park, Alberta (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2018 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
Ganesh is one of the best-known and most worshipped deities in the Hindu pantheon.
Although he is known by many attributes, Ganesha's elephant head makes him easy to identify. He is widely revered as the remover of obstacles, the patron of arts and sciences and the deva of intellect and wisdom. As the god of beginnings, he is honoured at the start of rituals and ceremonies. Ganesha is also invoked as patron of letters and learning during writing sessions.
This photo was taken in Millbrae California.
Jessie sez:
"Sigh ...... we is having a hard time at the moment, what with sky-high inflashin and logistics problems wif' basic food deliveries.
I think I'll need to have a meeting wif' Brushtail Mousie and see if we can work out a strategy to try to move the speed of cheese deliveries up a notch or two. I'm not smart enough to solve these sort of problems, but Brushtail on the other hand, DOES have a strong intellect and is therefore is well capable of getting this sorted out. I FINKS we need to organise another trip to Alpbachtal where all that luvly cheese is produced to the finest organic and preservative-free standards? That Meeces family deserves no less that this level of quality, so that their little bawdies can stay nice and healthy?"
🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭 🐭
I stick with him like velcro,
But never aspire to out-show.
I’m malleable like playdough,
Yet my intellect is pseudo
An echo of his maestro?
Whatever the fellow’s mojo,
I’m his shadow
And this is me in this photo.
Didn't hear, did the world tell me?
There's breath I am born
Disowned by a womb
The birth of one more breath,
the first breath of one more death
Similar breathing bodies
Name me and define me
Grew the intellect, grey cells
Outgrew ego till it swells
The kite soared high with a dead rat,
chased, followed by its flock
The attention just fugacious
Until the carcass gets dropped
The limelights rudely blind me,
my shadow trail behind me
As the blazing sun slip behind and forsake me
My dear shadow blaze the trail,
in toto for my sake, ever without fail
Overshadowed by sublunary shades
As darkness spread its wings
Poor shadow, cower, take cover
In refuge, yet meekly dissipate
to arise with its rekindled mate
Inane musk deer scampers incensed
Seeking its very own incense
The wolf sleeps soundly at high noon
At midnight, to bay at the moon.
Gnats busily gnaw my heart
Learn what's cheating, I get used
I'm exploited, wrung, abused
used for fun, just to be amused
I learn, in the beguiling garden,
the yearning paradise, Eden
the only fruit relished, eaten
is the one that's forbidden
Precious diamond the beggar hold
is worthless to the world.
A chip of glass with the overlord
priceless made byword.
The tidily rolled up sleeves often,
Drop down on their own
can't make a tender rose
tidily bloom by using force
The braids you let loose
Gets tangled on their own
The firmly tied shoelace
on and on gets loose
Every tick, one more step
back towards the starting line
can't count the days ahead
just count the days bygone
Alone I crawled, I won a race
with no laud, cheer or praise
Alone I walk the golden path
no hand to hold my hand
In the body, nurtured
Beats a heart inured
To drub, stab, lam
burnt right by the balm
From zero back to zero, none to no one
Zero is the path, and zero the remains
Glow bright before the fall
Smile right at the wildfire to befall
Sing a paean of praise to the zephyr
"Haul me down, else fan the fire".
Races up the raging wildfire
Razing, quenching its desire
As the leaf shrivels, falter, yet don't tire
the Golden flames consummate at the golden hour
the docile golden leaf soon withers and smoulder.
The spark gets set to leave
the meek mortal bod
Like a zealous balsam pod
Ripe, aching to explode
unbind the minute might
to merge with its source
The eternal supreme force
I lunge my chest upward
Just for one more breath
Many hands can hold and tend
though none of them can lend
Even one more peaceful suspire
When another 'I' expire.
Body the machine scuffle
The captain to forsake the vessel
The object that climbed great peaks,
made limpid music to enthral freaks
In limbo till the tummy heaves
a faint flutter, no further waiting
for the birth of one more breath
the death of one more birth
Didn't hear, did the world tell me?
No breath, I am dead.
-Anuj Nair
Anuj Nair - Music Videos
------------------------------------------------------
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
-------------------------------------------------------
________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images and poems are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images and text without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
It's been four years since I've tried one of these, but I had promised myself I would try them again because they are fun and you get all sorts of intriguing results.
This time I tried with a different camera for the Macro Mondays theme of Motion Blur this week. This is the sort of theme I tend to enjoy, though looking at some of the others that have already been posted today I don't think I have achieved their finesse and imagination!
My thanks to Kerry for pointing the theme out to me. I've been so busy lately that I would have probably missed it. Even so this attempt was a bit rushed and ad-hoc.
The approach is straightforward: place a little camera in the centre of a record deck pointing up in a darkened room, set it to the speed for singles (45rpm if you are too young!) and dangle something glittery above it.
You may have spotted the problem with this: how do you press the shutter button? Well that's not the only problem. Taking the image in the middle of a sunny day was a problem even with the curtains shut. Not having three arms was also a problem to hold a torch, trigger the shutter and hold the dingly dangly (cocktail sticks with tinsel tassels in this case) above the spinning camera, as was getting the image down to less than three inches...
Technology solved the first problem: just use the camera's remote control software on a tablet. It worked!! Yey.
My wife said I wasn't allowed to grow a third arm as none of my shirts would then fit :(
And the three inches was solved with cropping...
This is for MM but also fits my 100x motion project :)
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image - it's looking deep into your mind (though I'm OK because there is certifiably nothing left of mine). Happy Macro Mondays and 100x :)
Ok there is a problem with this image that you might spot if you are the sort who uses your alien intellect. At 45rpm with a one-second exposure, you might expect the scene to rotate by three-quarters of a turn. but it looks more like five-eighths (check out the green line).
No.... I have no idea either (though the turntable may need adjusting... or my arithmetic...).
When I captured this shot of an adult Opossum a top a large pile of pig feed inside a barn, my mind instantly started thinking of country sayings that include the good old opossum. This morning I decided to Google country/farm/southern sayings and was amazed just how often animals were used to describe human emotion, intellect or actions. Here are a few:
“Nervous as a cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs”
“Til the cows come home”
“Grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater”
“We’re eatin’ high on the hog”
“Happier than ol’Blue layin’ on the porch chewin’ on a big ol’ catfish head”
“Somebody turned their goat loose”
“He was grinnin’ like a mule eatin’ briars through a bob wire fence”
“If brains were leather, you wouldn’t have enough to saddle a Junebug”
“I ain’t seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper”
“She was madder than a wet hen”
“Ain’t no education in the second kick of a mule”
“Finer than frogs hair”
“Full as a tick on a hound dog”
“Madder than a cat being baptized”
“Grinnin like a possum eatin fire ants”
“Never kick a cow turd on a hot day” (A personal favorite)
I always had a dislike for the Possum until I learned just how many ticks they consume each year…an estimated 5000!
Respect!!!
Here's one of the pictures I took of my daughter and grandson back in November. She's given me two beautiful granddaughters and this little guy. Besides being beautiful, she's one of the smartest and hard working people I know. I've always placed more emphasis and praise on her intellect, than her looks. I don't remember her ever getting anything besides A's. I didn't have to push her, just tell her how smart she was. Maybe that was enough, she's always been very self motivated. Her photography business is doing great and she loves it. Guess you can tell I'm pretty proud of her.
Here's a link to her "City Wildflowers Photography" if you'd like to see her infant photography work.
Part of Solo Exibition Curated by Giorgio Bonomi
Senigallia (AN) 2019
Stefania Piccioni, who is used to this expressive technique, is introducing here a series of works, still lives, that recently has made.
Still life is a genre of painting that represents inanimate objects or that “live” (like vegetables). There were already still lives in Ancient Rome, then there was a big production in 16th century with Caravaggio till 19th century (Cezanne, Picasso and many others).
In photography, in which “dead nature” is called “still life”, there are many styles, from advertising to artistic. Stefania Piccioni performs still lives with great aesthetic ability and makes works that provoke pleasure and doubts at the same time. On formal plan we have to notice the smart use of light, with its jolts and glimpses that make particular things stand out. Fruits and vegetables often appear consumed in her works, so the dichotomy between life and dead is stressed: this is a proof of something that once was alive, but now it is not anymore.Stefania Piccioni’s photographs make intellect meditate on ourselves and on life that is made more pleasing and worth of living by beauty.
Giorgio Bonomi
Best of on Photovogue
Photo By: Cate Infinity
Title: Crimson Valve: A Metropolis Chronicle
Genre: Steampunk Noir | Erotic Thriller | Dystopian Sci-Fantasy
Setting: Metropolis - a towering brass-and-iron city driven by steam, lawless lust, and the ticking of secrets beneath the gears.
Synopsis:
In the heart of Metropolis, where statues weep rust and neon bleeds through fog, Captain Sera Vex—an ex-military enforcer turned underground icon—moves through the streets like a whispered sin. Adorned in high-voltage latex and a mesh of kinetic threads, she hunts not for justice… but for truth. A string of disappearances has plagued the Clocktower District - where courtesans go missing and black-market memory cores are traded like flesh. The city’s elite claim innocence. The steam-driven aristocracy looks away. But Sera doesn’t look away. She stares. What begins as a simple data-retrieval contract soon spirals into a war between The Order of the Coil—a secretive cult of AI sympathizers—and The Consular Engine, Metropolis’s governing machine-intellect. With only her sharp tongue, sharper nails, and a revolver named Mercy, Sera must navigate a world of betrayal, gaslight seduction, and hidden weaponry disguised as lace. Time is ticking. And somewhere below the city, the heart of Metropolis is preparing to explode.
Hera's Metropolis: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Themyscira/124/102/2342
Soundtrack
"The conflict in which we exist is not a struggle between good and evil, between the self and the not-self. The struggle is in our own self-created duality, between our various self-protective desires. There cannot be a conflict between light and darkness; where light is, darkness is not. As long as fear exists, there must continue conflict, though that fear may disguise itself under different names. And as fear cannot free itself through any means, for all its efforts spring from its own source, there must be the cessation of all intellectual safeguards. This cessation comes, spontaneously, when the mind reveals to itself its own process. This takes place only when there is integral awareness, which is not the result of a discipline, or of a moral or economic system, or of enforcement.
Each one has to become aware of the process of ignorance, the illusions that one has created. Intellect cannot lead you out of this present chaos, confusion and suffering. Reason must exhaust itself, not by retreating, but through integral comprehension and love of life. When reason no longer has the capacity to protect you, through explanations, escapes, logical conclusions, then when there is complete vulnerability, utter nakedness of your whole being, there is the flame of love. Truth alone can free each one from the sorrow and confusion of ignorance. Truth is not the end of experience, it is life itself. It is not of tomorrow, it is of no time. It is not a result, an achievement, but the cessation of fear, want.
J Krishnamurti
"It is the marriage of the soul with nature that makes the intellect fruitful, and gives birth to imagination." ~Henry David Thoreau
Oh evergreen forests of the northwest, you speak such a lovely language. One that feels both new and ancient, one of quiet knowledge and spirited birth. You are stoic, you are vibrant. Your age is seen in the girth of your trunks, but your liveliness lingers all through the months.
Yachats, Oregon
Yes Zoltar, you are correct. I am one of the most handsome men to ever live on planet earth. My intellect is beyond compare and no one can compete with how humble I am. For my dollar I expected more than what I already know. My complaint with you is these so called lucky numbers. While they are numbers I do not feel that are really lucky at all. Based on your ticket I waged two dollars on the lottery. I did not win. I AM NOT HAPPY! So, I believe that you owe me a new Fujifilm XF 10-24 lens. While that is quite a bit less than the $700,000,000 that you cost me, I will settle. By the way, to show my gratitude I will give you a 4 star review on the site of you choice. I will up it to a 5 star if you throw in a new tripod.
Thanks,
Tracy
AUM BHOOR BHUWAH SWAHA,
TAT SAVITUR VARENYAM
BHARGO DEVASAYA DHEEMAHI
DHIYO YO NAHA PRACHODAYAT.
Summary of the Gayatri Mantra
Gayatri Mantra (the mother of the vedas), the foremost mantra in hinduism and hindu beliefs, inspires wisdom. Its meaning is that "May the Almighty God illuminate our intellect to lead us along the righteous path". The mantra is also a prayer to the "giver of light and life" - the sun (savitur).
Oh God! Thou art the Giver of Life,
Remover of pain and sorrow,
The Bestower of happiness,
Oh! Creator of the Universe,
May we receive thy supreme sin-destroying light,
May Thou guide our intellect in the right direction.
Continuing on from my last post.
The morning was overwhelmingly beautiful and it provided me with a bit of a dilemma in terms of which direction to head in. There is a path that rounds the whole perimeter of Kinder Scout, some 15-16 miles in length depending on how strictly you want to stick to the edge. Those 16 miles have a great many geological features and different landscapes to be seen along the way, all providing a myriad of photographic subjects...choices, choices.
I let intuition decide rather than intellect and found my legs taking me East along the perimeter path in the direction of Crookstone Knoll, not with a mind so much on photography, but just enjoying the dream like experience of being above the clouds. I followed the trail of a Mountain Hare, which a was occasionally accompanied by the footprints of Red Grouse, all of us seemed to be headed the same direction so there must be something in it, I thought. I chuckle a little at the thought of a hiker following behind later in the day, wondering where the heck a hare, a grouse and human were all heading together!
Not too far along the path at Rowland Cote Moor, I caught sight of Win Hill properly for the first time and was mesmerised by the cloud raking over Hope Brink and the beautiful pastel orange sky, the likes of which I’ve only seen a few times before. I’m rarely a single-subject shooter, but I couldn’t pass up beautiful simple shot that represented the atmosphere of the morning so well.
Baku, Azerbaijan
It there is an indication or measure of a city's culture or intellect then chess might be one of those measures. Dotted all along the promenade are these giant chess boards, complete with giant pieces. Clearly, chess is a popular game in Baku and I dare say throughout Azerbaijan as well as there were matches being played morning, noon and night.
I'd go as far to say that it's not something you would come across in any UK city, mainly because all the pieces would get nicked or smashed in the first 24 hours... the Manchester Mobikes thefts and vandalism a case in point!
It was only when I got home did I discover the popularity of chess in Azerbaijan and it's most famous son - Garry Kimovich Kasparov, World champion 1985-1993 (undisputed) and 1993-2000 (classical)
World Parkinson’s Disease Day marks the birthday of Dr. J Parkinson.
Dr. Parkinson first described the disease in “An Essay on the Shaking Palsy”, he described a pattern of lessened muscular power, involuntary tremulous motion, even if these are supported.
There is at tendency to bend the body forwards, and to involuntarily switch from a walking to a running pace, while the sense and intellect deteriorate.
On this day there are efforts made to increase the public awareness of this terrible disease, as well as all the good works put forth by the worlds organizations dedicated to eradicating this disease. There are activities to promote this the entire world over, and the opportunity to participate is open to any and all who want to help in this effort.
www.daysoftheyear.com/days/world-parkinsons-disease-day/
La Giornata mondiale malattia di Parkinson è un evento che si tiene ogni anno l’11 aprile per sensibilizzare e far conoscere una malattia degenerativa che in Italia ha già colpito 230mila persone.
L’obiettivo di questa Giornata è coinvolgere sempre più persone nella lotta contro il Parkinson e dare un contributo alla ricerca di una cura per questa malattia.
L’11 aprile è la data di nascita del dottor James Parkinson, che nel 1817 aveva pubblicato il “Saggio sulla paralisi agitante”. Grazie al suo lavoro il Parkinson è stato riconosciuto come patologia medica a livello internazionale.
La prima Giornata mondiale del Parkinson si è tenuta l’11 aprile 1997 ed è stata organizzata dalla European Parkinson Disease e dalla Organizzazione mondiale della sanità.
www.tpi.it/2018/04/10/parkinson-giornata-mondiale-2018/
Bruno Lauzi e la sua malattia
La sua lettera a Mister Parkinson
Egregio Signore, non è con piacere che le scrivo questa lettera, ma d'altra parte avrei dovuto parlarle a quattr'occhi, affrontarla di persona, sopportare quel suo subdolo modo di fare che è quanto c'è di peggio per far perdere la pazienza anche ad un santo, figuriamoci a me.
Le scrivo, come può notare, col computer, perché la mia calligrafia s'è fatta illeggibile e così minuscola che i miei collaboratori devono usare la lente d'ingrandimento per riuscire a decifrarla…
Perché le scrivo? È presto detto: io ho superato con una certa disinvoltura l'imbarazzo che lei (l'ho scritto senza maiuscola, non la merita) mi ha creato chiedendo pubblicamente la mia mano ed ovviamente ottenendola. Convivere con un ufficiale inglese a riposo, già condannato nel Punjab per ripetuti tentativi di violenza neurologica su qualunque essere di qualunque specie (le cose si vengono a sapere, come vede…) non è stato facile, la mia è una famiglia è all’antica e non ha apprezzato.
MA ORA LEI STA ESAGERANDO, signore, glielo devo dire. Quando è troppo è troppo, e il troppo stroppia! C'è un proverbio arabo che dice: «Se hai un amico di miele non lo leccare tutto», INVECE LEI S'APPROFITTA D'OGNI RILASSATEZZA, DELL'ABBASSAMENTO DELLA GUARDIA NELLA BATTAGLIA QUOTIDIANA, ci proibisce di pensare ad altro, contando sulla superficialità con cui io ho affrontato l’insorgere del male… si sa, gli artisti sono farfalloni incoscienti… no, vecchio caprone, non le sarà facile, né con me né con gli altri, la Resistenza è cominciata. Perché, vede, io e i miei fratelli e sorelle malati abbiamo tante cose da fare, una vita da portare avanti meglio di così!
D'ora in avanti prometto che starò più attento ai consigli dei miei dottori, e che mi impegnerò maggiormente nell’aiutarli nella raccolta dei fondi necessari per la ricerca. Anzi sul tema della solidarietà mi ci gioco una mano, la mano che, pitturata e serigrafata fa da piedistallo ad una poesia contro di lei, colonnello dei miei stivali, funzionando da incentivo a dare... già, poiché a chiunque faccia un'offerta per la ricerca verrà inviata «LA MANO» come ricordo e memento…
Siamo in tanti, tante mani si leveranno contro di lei e cercheranno di restituirle colpo su colpo fino a quando non riusciranno ad acchiapparla per la collottola e mandarla all’Inferno cui appartiene, bestiaccia immonda, sterco del demonio, nostra croce senza delizie… Parola mia, di questo omino per molti un po' buffo, per altri un po' patetico, ma che vive il sogno di poterla, un giorno non lontano, prendere a schiaffi. A mano ferma. Mi stia male e a non rivederla.
Bruno Lauzi
25 ottobre 2006
www.corriere.it/Primo_Piano/Spettacoli/2006/10_Ottobre/25...
Ciao Bruno la "bestiaccia immonda" ti ha portato via ma tu resterai sempre nei nostri cuori e continueremo con passione a portare avanti la tua battaglia.
Photography’s potential as a great image-maker and communicator is really no different from the same potential in the best poetry where familiar, everyday words, placed within a special context, can soar above the intellect and touch subtle reality in a unique way. -- Paul Caponigro
"There is a road from the eye to the heart that does not go through the intellect."
~ Gilbert K. Chesterton
The second image from the Loudoun County wheat field shoot. Again, the mountain in the background is Bull Run Mountain. This field is not far from Manassas National Battlefield. :)
Please do take a moment and click on the image to see it large on a black background. It really looks nicer that way and thank you in advance for looking at my work and for any comments, critiques and favorites. :)
I was feeling really down last night, as well as this morning right from when I woke up. Things have been really tough over the past year. I was turning the possibility of sharing this with you over in my mind, over, and over, and over... I was not sure whether I had the confidence, and whether it would make any difference.
I've concluded that it does. If I don't address pain, either artistically or verbally, then nothing will change. It is at least worth a try. I think Brad said it best: Flickr is cheap ass therapy.
My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease right before his 60th birthday, which was this past December. He is already in stage three of seven -- very unusual for someone so young. In addition to the fact that it's a fatal disease, he will soon become someone entirely different, with not a clue who I am, or who he is, who he was, who he will be. I can see changes as the months go by, some months more than others. He was a political science professor at Columbia for most of his career, then was a dean, chief financial officer and provost there as well. His life has been built on his extraordinary intellect -- one that moved me to academia, helped incite my passion for philosophy and dreams of becoming a professor. Now he is on disability and finds himself lonely and listless most days, while everyone else is working and busy. He is rediscovering himself, and the talented parts of him that were latent all these years, but it doesn't take away from the struggle on a day-to-day basis. He has always been humble, frank, moderate, and inward, but he has shed some of his hurtful tendencies -- he is less analytic, more feeling and embracing of everything around him. All too many had accused him, say ten years ago, of being withholding and emotionally unavailable, to his wife (my stepmother) and me and my sister. He is so different now. It is, I supposed, something of a Catch-22: my father has metamorphosed into one of the most beautiful souls I've ever known, but this is all too fleeting.
But perhaps it is this transience that gives it such sweetness and value.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
-- Tennyson
In a town so inconspicuous that it eluded every map, there dwelt a young inventor by the name of Elian Tinkerfield. Elian was captivated by the cogs of time, by seconds piling into minutes, and minutes constructing hours. His life was a tribute to clocks and chronometers, and at the tender age of twenty, he commenced his magnum opus: a time machine.
Day and night Elian toiled, spurred on by a melody once heard from an ancient music box, which whispered in refrain: "bitte bleib stehen, bleib stehen, Zeit." His contraption was a fantastical assembly of pendulums and steam, of copper pipes and aged pocket watches gleaned from the stalls of flea markets. And then, one day, as the clock struck twelve, he activated the device and unfurled a shimmering time portal.
Stepping through, Elian emerged in a realm where time coursed backward. Children gambolled in retrograde innocence, the aged reverted to youth, and Elian himself became... 101 years of age. He had been rendered an old man, yet with the intellect of a youth.
He ambled through a world at once familiar and bizarre. Rivers flowed uphill, trees defoliated only to burst into full bloom. Elian perceived that all once beautiful was unwinding in reverse. He witnessed lovers devolving from passionate embraces to shy glances and thought, "Ah, if it could but last forever."
Yet Elian knew he could not linger in this antithetical cosmos. He yearned to preserve the beauty of the moment where youth was not adversity, and the end did not loom. Thus, he returned to the machine and reverted the flow of time.
He arrived back in his own era, not as the youth he once was, but as a centenarian, ensnared in time's relentless current.
The machine was never again employed. He now understood the words of the song that had once inspired him: "bitte bleib stehen, bleib stehen, Zeit." But time would not heed such pleas. It is a future that cannot be conjured.
In his final days, Elian found solace in life's minutiae—the smile of a child, the warmth of the sun, the aroma of freshly baked bread. He had lived, had loved, and now it was time to depart, as the song went, "when it is most wondrous."
When Elian at last closed his eyes forever, the world paused for an infinitesimal moment — in the perfect moment.
"All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports."
I am representing the magical element of Air! Air is the element of creativity, intellect, and clear articulation. A powerful element for new beginnings, self-expression, and happiness.
~Attire:
ERSCH - Champagne Bodysuit & Choker & Melfea Cape
Shoes:
ERSCH - Dots Boots
~Hair:
Wasabi // Elenoire Windblown
-- Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
We are all multi-faceted; we have many emotions, desires, preferences, and personalities. I am certainly no exception. Most of my self-portraits thus far have been rather ... serious, or at least generally so. I've felt as though my creativity is limited to my 'deep thoughts' and my sense of humor isn't as applicable. Mainly, I'm usually just not smiling (with the exception of three or so shots). Some individuals (though I will not name them) had a first impression of me as someone serious, uptight, ... whatever. When I heard that, I laughed. And then thought to myself, hmm, is that true? No. Fair enough, but is that how I want others to perceive me? It's definitely not how I perceive myself. I like to have others see me as I'd like to be seen (who doesn't?) -- and I'd like to be seen as who I truly am, not some ideal. Truly, I laugh constantly. I joke constantly. I am too sarcastic. I make really, really corny jokes (e.g. "What do you call cheese that isn't yours? ... Na-cho cheese!" & "What time do you go to the dentist? ... Tooth-hurty!" & etc. etc. ad infinitum...). I love slapstick humor (e.g. Mel Brooks is my hero). Et al.
I am also deeply devoted to the intellect. I'm a philosopher by nature and college degree, and I love it more than just about anything. I know this part of me has come forth strongly in my photostream. I also studied neuroscience as an accompaniment to my theories about consciousness and personal identity. I've learned never to take a single thing for granted, believe anything beyond a shadow of a doubt, or throw my words around haphazardly. Sure, this makes me an analytic bastard who is anal about semantics and logic. People tend to find this tedious. So I have to reconcile two parts of myself: the silly idiot who is always ready to laugh at her own expense, and the thoroughly introspective and scientific seeker. Throw in creativity (which I *think* I have ;-) and you've got me. A big melting pot of talent, absurdity, philosophy, and passion.
Many thanks and love to Maite for picking "Self-Reflection" as today's FGR theme.
& GTWL anniversary edition -- Clones.
Day 75.
& of course: View On Black!
View my images here www.fluidr.com/photos/rigsrocks
Best viewed large!
I really love this photo better with these Agapanthus leading the way, in front of The Palace Of Fine Arts....I have never seen healthier Agapanthus plants anywhere else, than these...The Daylillies also were around the lagoon that I posted in the last few days.
Wiki...
The Palace of Fine Arts in the Marina District of San Francisco, California, is a monumental structure originally constructed for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition in order to exhibit works of art presented there. One of only a few surviving structures from the Exposition, it is still situated on its original site. It was rebuilt in 1965, and renovation of the lagoon, walkways, and a seismic retrofit were completed in early 2009.
In addition to hosting art exhibitions, it remains a popular attraction for tourists and locals and is a favorite location for weddings and wedding party photographs for couples throughout the San Francisco Bay Area and such an icon that a miniature replica of it was built in Disney's California Adventure in Anaheim.[3]
Built around a small artificial lagoon, the Palace of Fine Arts is composed of a wide, 1,100 ft (340 m) pergola around a central rotunda situated by the water.[10] The lagoon was intended to echo those found in classical settings in Europe, where the expanse of water provides a mirror surface to reflect the grand buildings and an undisturbed vista to appreciate them from a distance.
Ornamentation includes Bruno Louis Zimm's three repeating panels around the entablature of the rotunda, representing "The Struggle for the Beautiful", symbolizing Greek culture.[11] while Ulric Ellerhusen supplied the weeping women atop the colonnade[12] and the sculptured frieze and allegorical figures representing Contemplation, Wonderment and Meditation.[13][14]
The underside of the Palace rotunda's dome features eight large insets, which originally contained murals by Robert Reid. Four depicted the conception and birth of Art, "its commitment to the Earth, its progress and acceptance by the human intellect," and the four "golds" of California (poppies, citrus fruits, metallic gold, and wheat).[15]
The shade of yellow determines the meaning. Pure, bright and sunny yellow is the easiest color to see. People who are blind to other colors can usually see yellow. Yellow is full of creative and intellectual energy. Always use yellow note pads.
Yellow symbolizes wisdom. Yellow means joy and happiness. People of high intellect favor yellow. Yellow daffodils are a symbol of unrequited love. Sunday's color is yellow-gold.
Yellow Energy
Like the energy of a bright sunny day, yellow brings clarity and awareness. The shade of yellow determines its effect: Yellow-green can mean deceit, and creates a disoriented feeling. Orange-yellow imparts a sense of establishment. Clean light yellow clears the mind, making it active and alert.
Put some yellow in your life when you want:
clarity for decision-making
relief from 'burnout', panic, nervousness, exhaustion
sharper memory and concentration skills
protection from lethargy and depression during dull weather
©2015 RESilU | Please don't use this image without my explicit permission.
_______________________________________________
Intellect takes you to the door, but it doesn`t take you into the house.
_______________________________________________
40 Rules of Love by Shams Tabrizi
Rule 16
Real filth is the one inside. The rest simply washes off. There is only one type of dirt that cannot be cleansed with pure waters, and that is the stain of hatred and bigotry contaminating the soul. You can purify your body through abstinence and fasting, but only love will purify your heart
_______________________________________________
"I feel grateful for all I've learned
and the people to whom I turned
Now like a river flowing to the Sea
I let them all go now to their own destiny
while I follow that one Light blazing in me
I'm gonna live my own dream again
I'm gonna live my own dream again
I'm gonna break through these clouds of rain
Straight to that bright shining sun
In the name of the One
I stake my claim
where I live my own dream again."
Ganga Fondan, 2009
All week I've been singing this song in order to stir up some feelings of ache and desire again. When my rational mind reminds me of my losses, my songs lead me back to a place of hope, of faith and courage again. Staring at the evergiving Ocean, my heart rises once more to declare its intent. I draw strength from the words:
"Your Consciousness is the spark and Universal Consciousness is the blaze and they are one and the same. Constantly reflecting on the meaning of this Truth and silencing the constant chatter of the intellect brings this Truth to our realization. This is referred to as crossing over the Ocean of Consciousness." - Tulshi Sen, "Ancient Secrets of Success for Today's World"
Le partage ça s'apprend.
La douceur est un partage.
La nourriture qui ce partage.
L'amitié se partage les plaisirs.
La dévotion ça ce partage à deux.
Le plaisir de partager ses sentiments.
La gentillesse ça se partage sans réserve.
Le respect se bâtit avec le temps et le partage.
Le partage, l'amour, la joie, le bonheur pour la vie.
La photo et le partage peuvent devenir une passion.
La passion tissant des rapprochements avec la faune ailée.
La sensibilité esthétique est tout à fait digne des hommes.
L’œil qui appréhende la beauté avec autant de créativité.
La fragilité rend toute chose infiniment plus précieuse.
L'émotion au moment d'appuyer sur le déclencheur.
L'esprit créatif cultivant des liens avec sa nature.
L'œil derrière le viseur, et la nature dans l'œil.
La nature dans l'Art et un art dans la nature.
La patience nous apprend à immortaliser ces moments si précieux. L’esprit qui désire se concentré devra éliminer toutes les distractions. La photo fait appel aux sens, aux émotions, aux intuitions et à l'intellect.
La passion est une nature dominante qui se dévoue gaîment à son art. La nature procure aux yeux attentifs les plus beaux spectacles du monde. La photographie ajoute au plaisir des yeux celui d'un divertissement sans fin.
Les Geais bleu au bout de mon zoom téléobjectif.
Pour le plaisir et la joie qu'elle me procure,
la passion des images.
Michel Villeneuve53
Objectif 100% Nature
© All Rights reserved no publication without permission.
© Tous droits réservés aucune publication sans la permission.