View allAll Photos Tagged Introspective

In the air

Across the sea, across the land

Going

Everywhere, meeting everyone

Around the globe, around your head

Across

Your soul, all through your brain

Meeting everyone, going everywhere...

 

Blessed are the travelers, those who belong nowhere...

I n the air

 

Traveling further than my thoughts can go...

I n the air again

Searching,

Finding

Forgetting, remembering

How it goes...

Different cultures,

Different traditions

Different languages, different approaches

Of the

World...

World within our eyes, confronted by the outside...

I n the air again

Far - of destination, constant vacation...

 

I n the air again

 

Searching, finding

Forgetting, remembering

How it goes...

Introspective

Trip

Initiative voyages

All along...

  

dedicated to a stranger.. i met in facebook. "YUMMA"

Kerið . Grímsnes . 64°N, 20°W .

ICELAND REVIEW HERE : Awful Iceland / Affreuse Islande.

Also on 500px.

Also on facebook.

 

Kerið crater was at first a volcanic cone which erupted and emptied its magma reserve. Once the magma was depleted, the weight of the cone totally collapsed into the empty magma chamber. Now, the visible pool of water in the crater is at the same level as the water table.

 

“Introspective” began with the idea to photographically document the arctic and sub-arctic regions of six different countries using some of the last remaining Kodak Aerochrome infrared film in existence. Due to political and economic pressures for development that are beginning to overrule environmental preservation, not to mention the effects of a warming climate, the Arctic, as we know it today, will soon be unrecognizable. My journey of roughly three months took many unexpected turns, including living for a week in rural villages of Kenya and watching a father and son gut a seal in Greenland. Yet, the more zig-zagging around the world I did, the more it seemed everything was connected. “Introspective” became a personal Odyssey, one of searching for inner clarity by seeing and photographing the marvels of the natural world.

 

For the rest of the journal visit zvereff.com/journal/introspective/

This work is about Hong Kong and essentially an introspective examination of a phenomenon that I experienced during my stay in the vertical alpha city. By capturing urban and suburban places, I tried to explore the intriguing shifts in my spatial perception.

   

I will upload a small selection of photographs from the series here on Flickr.

   

As for the complete series, I was able to publish it as a limited edition photo book.

 

If you are interested, you can buy it here for 20,- €: www.buchhaltung-verlag.de/invisiblehorizons.html

 

Life changes. You change. It's the only constant.

 

Three weeks ago I made a day trip to Las Pozas, the estate of the late Edward James. James was a sculptor cum patron of the surrealist movement. He was close friends with Salvador Dali and Andre Breton; in fact, Dali basically said James was completely bat shit and the craziest person he had ever met! James built a pleasure garden of surreal sculpture and architecture deep in the rain forests of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountains in eastern Mexico. By map and finger tracing, it's a two hour drive from San Miguel, but in reality its a slow, winding 6 hour journey along deadman curves along two thousand foot cliffs. On a good road trip, you can put your mind to pasture and melt into your music, but this drive demands the nervous vigilance of cobra charmers and chainsaw jugglers. But the view is to die for...literally. Sheer cliffs of slutty green rain forest where the clouds are a quarter mile below surround you for grindingly slow, hard right, hard left, brake riding hours. At one moment, I came out of a sharp turn to face this gorgeous tropical chasm and I smiled, just as I went into another sharp turn. For some reason, someone had laid down gravel in this next blind curve. Gravel has a low traction coefficient. Enter Newton and classical circular motion physics. Gravel slides. I slid with the efficient centrifugal force of failure towards the cliff edge.

 

Ah Death, we meet again, you mountebank.

 

All the while, Shirley Bassey is crooning the James Bond classic 'You Only Live Twice' on my iPod.

 

Your life doesn't flash before your eyes. Adrenaline is not an introspective drug.

 

Shit. The only rational image in my head was that I was going to fall into a pool of green for several minutes and no one would ever know where I died. I was going to disappear. Pebble in a pond. You hear these lamentable stories of folks driving off I-95 in Florida into a swamp groove, trapped by broken limbs, living off packets of ketchup until death collects them and road crews find the remains several weeks later. I wasn't going to be that fortunate. I was three hours away from the nearest nowhere.

 

This dream is for you, so pay the price.

Make one dream come true, you only live twice.

 

I want to pause for a minute to lay down a shout out to the brainstem and its 500,000 million year of fight-flight reflex programming. The brainstem doesn't wait around for the frontal lobe to form a quorum. He's the ultimate go-to guy once adrenaline wakes him up.

 

My brainstem turned hard against the turn, cutting the kinetic slide into the forest maw and the truck came to a slow stop right at the edge of the road. Final scene forstalled.

 

And life restarted. Again.

 

Its a crying shame we need these cataclysmic events to quiet the muddled congress of our thoughts. Everything becomes a very simple calculus when you get it that life is not short and it is not long. It just is. There is no shortcut out of the maze of mirrors. You are here and then you are not. Normally we come to this point and think, 'Hey, life has no guarantees so the smart play is to live for today, seize the day, live for the moment,' but that's just living life like a serial one-night stander. You wake the next morning feeling a little sated but seedy. Its the gambler's path, irrationally betting everything that the next roll will be the big payoff. Conversely, the long view is its own delusion. It suckers and succors you that everything will be taken care in time, that patience is the toll for success. You let yourself fall asleep to dream about tomorrow.

 

Here's my prescription the good life: be alive. Take chances. Forget trying to look around the next blind curve. Do something new, not to notch your belt, but to extend yourself into that space where your fear holds court. Live with dignity - protect it in yourself and share it freely with others. Be moderately immoderate. Listen more. Speak with sincerity. Forgive yourself completely, but forgive others more. Yes, life is a wonderful wine cellar to taste and enjoy, but learn to make wine yourself and share it with your friends. Being angry and being afraid are your greatest enemies. Shoot them on sight, but better, give them compassion and honesty; you'll find more often than not that they will willingly surrender the floor once they have been heard. But dont hesitate to put those recalcitrant, tantrumy little bitches on time out if need be and get back to living. The biggest thing is this: Life is not about winning the lottery in the Now or some Tomorrow. For that matter, lottery winners almost always end up broke and broken.

 

Life is about how you live.

 

Go figure. It takes a deadman's curve to be alive. Who knew?

 

Go live, friends, right now...and tomorrow.

 

Who wants to live forever?

Forever is our today

 

A fabulous spiral staircase, a distant gaze, quiet, introspective moment...

 

All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written explicit permission All rights reserved. Copyright 2020 © Mark Lee

Yes it is the diaphragm blades you see - I was amazed to see them!

 

Exposure: 30 sec

The only light source: moon

 

I really like this one. Detail and lighting came out beautifully. New profile pic y'all!

Through travel I first became aware of the outside world;

it was through travel that I found my own introspective way into becoming a part of it.

 

__________________________

Pic Collaboration with Bella Diaz ♥

check out her FLICKR♥

_________________________

 

visit my Blog for more pics ♥

________________________

 

Hair:

 

#Foxy -Her Hair-

 

Marketplace

  

Top:

 

Blueberry - Aria Button Up Top -

 

Marketplace

  

Pants:

 

Blueberry -Aria - Stylized Pants -

 

Marketplace

  

Boots:

 

REIGN. - Becky Studded Boots-

 

Marketplace

  

Pose:

 

FOXCITY. -The Journey -1m- Marketplace

  

Backdrop:

 

MINIMAL -The Travel Scene -Uber Oct'25th -2018

 

Marketplace

In the period of the worldwide lockdown due to the global covid pandemic, I am forced to reckon with myself.

Everything appears distorted and confused in the solitude of the house

 

Nel periodo del lockdown mondiale dovuto alla pandemia mondiale di covid, sono costretto a fare i conti con me stesso.

Ogni cosa appare distorta e confusa nella solitudine di casa

  

Russian Orthodox Church (late Tsar's family).

#2 of my November 2009 Series of one new photo creation per day.

 

A self(ish) portrait on a melancholy afternoon...

delfim moreira, MG

Março de 2007

bronze sculpture by English artists Sophie Ryder, staged in the Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Peter sitting by a window lit only by the setting sun. Branches cast shadows on his face.

In Explore May 23, 2023

(soundtrack: Antonio Vivaldi, "Trio sonata RV 63")

nenadstojkovicart.com/

  

You can find a large number of full-resolution photos under a Creative Commons license on my official website: nenadstojkovicart.com/albums

 

The whole palazzo was covered with reproductions of Persian rugs for the exhibit. --- --- --- Rudolf Stingel conceived this exhibition especially for Palazzo Grassi. Given the utmost freedom of execution, Stingel has completely transformed the museum, filling the entire space with an oriental carpet. Moving beyond the idea of two-dimensionality that is conventionally associated with painting, the exhibition aims to subvert the usual spatial relationship between a painting and viewer.

 

The carpet evokes the thousand-year history of Venice, the ‘Most Serene Republic’, but also recalls the Middle-European culture so loved by the artist; for example, we are reminded of Sigmund Freud’s early twentieth-century Viennese study. This reference undoubtedly provides a key to interpreting this installation: on entering the ‘labyrinth’, an all-encompassing feeling and sensorial experience transport us towards the transcendence of the Ego, by means of its removal and its ghosts. The nearly thirty paintings exhibited suggest presences that are ‘buried’ in memory, and removed experiences that thrive again. The architectural space becomes an introspective and projective space, silent and welcoming, suitable for meditation: but Stingel’s work alters our visual and spatial perception of it, suggesting a new, rarified and suspenseful atmosphere in which the silver, white and black of the paintings stands out like so many other ‘openings’ on Venice, in an another dimension.

From the Palazzo Grassi website

…La confrontación interior representa nuestros recuerdos y temores, y por mas buenos o malos que sean, sin ellos estaríamos sencillamente vacíos y con ellos en una eterna confrontación entre lo que es o podría haber sido… [Fabricio Rios]

Mojo turned EIGHT today. And as you can see, he is feeling quite introspective about entering his golden years. (most small dogs are considered "seniors" when they turn eight).

When my brother-in-law walked out of the bathroom with his wet hair and sat down to dry them under the fan, it seemed the perfect opportunity to shoot some portrait closeups . . .

Actually, catnip is delicious, which is what PJ Harvey was licking in this moment (there are bits of catnip all around here, too)

 

I am a big fan of the old vintage feeling of cracking open a good book but I did donate a lot of my old books and I am buying most books on Kindle with the exception of graphic novels, which really don't translate well to that format in my experience. Graphic novels are what I read in the bathtub at the end of a long day, ether sipping sake or Japanese whiskey and with lots and lots of bubbles around me. If that sounds decadent, it is because it absolutely is. But, I have chronic muscle cramps, anxiety, and depression and this is my personal therapy.

 

So, on to the book recommendations by my stack from yesterday's photos separated into two parts. I bought these books primarily at Quimby's in Chicago, a comic book store that I am worried about now that it is closed because of the citywide mandate for quarantine and "shelter in place." Bookstores are not considered an essential business to stay open at this time and, truthfully, I also wouldn't want to risk the lives of the workers, but I do personally view books as essential just as I view the book loving geeks who enjoy reading them.

 

The Drifting Classroom by Kazuo Umezz is about a school that disappears into some time into the future. The communication between time zones is nearly impossible except for our protagonist hero being able to scream through time and connect with his mother occasionally.

 

The first Volume is really mainly centered on the way the adults and children handle this crisis and the psychological and physical violence that results as well as typical things like food and water scarcity and then a giant bug monster, which comes about at the end.

 

The second Volume is more about stopping nightmares that come to life. bizarre mushrooms that start growing on everything, and a plague that separates the children even more. The children are exploring this new desert land and trying to find anything sustainable and they end up finding other surprises.

 

www.viz.com/drifting-classroom

 

I've also been reading quite a bit of Junji Ito's graphic novels lately. I'm in the middle of Tomie right now, which I have mixed feelings about. I love the concept of a woman who never dies even when she is brutally murdered by men over and over again. What is difficult for me to read is the fact that she obsesses about men not worth her while and gets very jealous of other girls. Seems like she could be using her time after regenerating all over again a lot better.

 

The novel by Ito that I liked even better was Uzumaki because I really get into psychological dramas where the enemy is actually a force of nature..in this case spirals that consume everything in this small Japanese town from the wavelengths in the area to people's biological physical spaces (semicircular canals, fingerprints). This one is well worth reading and one I will likely re-read quite a few times.

 

Also worth a read is No Longer Human which is an adaptation of the same novel by Osamu Dazai. This is at least somewhat based on the author's life and his own psychological distress (Dazai's) and is really frightening in the sense of human choices and the portrayal of a man without a conscience and the way he treats others, especially women.

 

www.comicsbeat.com/review-no-longer-human-junji-ito/

 

On more of a fun side is Junji Ito's Cat Diary: Yon & Mu. This is the very slim graphic novel on top and, although it is still a manga that features some bits of horror, it is far more tongue and cheek and shows how Ito adapts to his wife's cats and slowly becomes a tried and true cat lover (it is autobiographical)

 

junjiitomanga.fandom.com/wiki/Ito_Junji%E2%80%99s_Cat_Diary

 

Last but certainly not least, if I ever feel that Japanese horror is just too intense for that particular day, there is a really beautiful and transfixing graphic novel here called Cats of the Louvre by Taiyo Matsumoto

 

This looks a little cutesy at first but it is really deep and introspective about a child and a cat that gets lost in a painting and about the cats that secretly live in Le Louvre and their caretaker. There is a lot of great cat personalities as well as that of a spider. Highly recommended!

 

www.viz.com/cats-of-the-louvre

 

So how about you? What are you reading during this pandemic?

 

**All photos are copyrighted**

  

Santa Chiara is a religious complex in Naples, Italy, that includes the Church of Santa Chiara, a monastery, tombs and an archeological museum. The Basilica church of Santa Chiara faces Via Benedetto Croce, which is the easternmost leg of Via Spaccanapoli. The church facade of Santa Chiara is diagonally across from the church of Gesù Nuovo.

 

The double monastic complex was built in 1313–1340 by Queen Sancha of Majorca and her husband King Robert of Naples, who is also buried in the complex. The original church was in traditional Provençal-Gothic style, but was decorated in the 17th century in Baroque style by Domenico Antonio Vaccaro. After the edifice was partially destroyed by a fire after the Allied bombings during World War II, it was brought back to the alleged original state by a disputed restoration, which was completed in 1953.

 

Famous is the cloister of the Clarisses, transformed in 1742 by Domenico Antonio Vaccaro with the unique addition of majolica tiles in Rococò style. The brash color floral decoration makes this cloister, with octagonal columns in pergola-like structure, likely unique and would seem to clash with the introspective world of cloistered nuns. The cloister arcades are also decorated by frescoes, now much degraded. (Wikipedia)

Dedicated to my friend Fergus … may you always dance as freely as the wind … <3

 

An Old Irish Blessing

 

"May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind always be at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

and rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand."

 

“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”

 

― Gautama Buddha

 

Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLVq0IAzh1A

FIELDS OF GOLD - STING

 

DO YOU REMEMBER

 

Do you remember when you were a squaddie

the ballroom dancing lessons that we had

we would twirl around the room so fast

like swirling dervishes among the lads

I would step on your feet; trip over your heels

you would laugh at me fit to burst

oh, Fergus MacDonald where are you now

that I've mastered and got over the worst

you went one way and I went another

I had to finish my education

somebody told me you went to war

and my heart sank at this revelation

as it struck me to my inner core

into the unknown we stepped so often

sharing; multiplying our confidences

our eyes met and the world was softened

how I wish that you were dancing with me now

but mine was to be a different dance

I see your hair so red and mine so blonde

in my mind's eye we stood a good chance

I still think of you when the Harvest moon

is like a big orange ball in the sky

do you remember me like I remember you

with a smile and a whispered goodbye

I still have foolish notions and schoolgirl dreams

big ideas and ridiculous fancies

I used to make you laugh until you nearly cried

with my endless schemes, plans and romances

do you remember the book you loaned to me

I still have it waiting for you

Tess of the D'Urbervilles, do you remember now

I hope I can return it to the boy I once knew

Would I know you now if I saw you in the street

you were just a young lad last I saw you

but surely I'd know you from anyone if you opened your eyes

for they reflected my own eyes of blue

I still think of you on a cold Winter's night

in front of the fire; my ears tuned to the news

but I fear you are lost in the trenches somehow

with your eyes opened with all that you knew

a dug-out somewhere in no-man's land

or an unmarked grave; my heart-felt clenches

why do they call it friendly fire

there's nothing friendly when someone's heart wrenches

how little do I know even now of the ways of men

those who wage war and why

politics seems everywhere in all the things that we do

may I remain innocent until the day that I die

wherever you are and whoever you have become

know I think fondly of you dear Fergus

and if ever our paths were to cross again

I believe that we would complete the circuit

the bonds we made during those teenage years

so strong they remain unbroken

memories of the plans we had

and all the words so softly spoken

sometimes they come to me here on the wind

quietly and indistinct

or I may see your face in a crowded room

disappearing as I overthink

and that is me dear Fergus, all over

I feel; I see; I think too much

as rarefied as a four leafed clover

and like a game of double dutch

I trip over the rope, like I trip over my tongue

clumsy as ever my dear

still I think of you and wish you well

while I still yearn for those teenage years.

 

- AP - Copyright remains with and is the intellectual property of the author

 

Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission'

 

My artwork is a compilation of 4 of my photographs

A picture of the big rainstorm we received on monday,August 7th. Nearly 2.5" fell that day leading to some localized flooding. Little did we know that was the last rain we would receive in August for our area, It's been a dry year, and this fall's harvest will likely show the effects with smaller, lighter kernels and decreased yields...

 

The title is in remembrance of the great Jimmy Buffet's first hit which preceded his breakthrough "Margaritaville". It kind of showed not only a more introspective side,but also his versatility. Have a lime one on the rocks my friend, with a cheeseburger on the side!

 

youtu.be/XKGw_hrlaOY?si=ZNsH934PfIgha5Dp

View On Black

 

.... an introspective shot.

 

Lubitell II

Ilford Hp5 400@1600

and you´re hurting everything you see

In a clandestine realm concealed behind the walls of human abodes, resided diminutive beings who referred to themselves as "Borrowlings." Their world was minuscule, their attire fashioned from fabric remnants, and their headwear comprised delicate mushroom caps. These Borrowlings harbored a peculiar vocation in life, one they deemed their life's calling: they borrowed tiny items from humans.

 

Within this world, there were three remarkable Borrowlings: Lumius, Flora, and Pippin. Lumius was aged and sagacious, Flora his affectionate spouse, and Pippin their inquisitive offspring. The passage of years did not mark the Borrowlings, for they attained the venerable age of 111, unless they happened to be mistaken for a mouse by an unwary cat. Their objective was to borrow diminutive treasures from the human realm, such as needles, threads, scissors, and screwdrivers. Yet, they were not without flaws.

 

The Borrowlings possessed an unfortunate proclivity: they tended to place the borrowed items in unusual locations. When humans sought these possessions, it spawned chaos and bewilderment.

 

One day, as Lumius, Flora, and Pippin had once more borrowed a minuscule ruler, they overheard the desperate dialogue of a solitary human gentleman whom they designated the "Seeker."

 

"Damnation, where is my ruler?" muttered the Seeker to himself. "I employed it last evening, and now it has vanished without a trace."

 

The Borrowlings realized that the time had come to make amends for their imperfections. They resolved to locate the ruler and return it, sparing the Seeker further vexation.

 

Upon finding the ruler at last, Lumius raised it aloft and declared, "Here is your ruler. We borrowed it and inadvertently misplaced it elsewhere."

 

The Seeker, taken aback by the sight of the diminutive Lumius, inquired, "Who are you?"

 

Flora responded, "We are the Borrowlings, and it is our duty to borrow items and subsequently return them. Regrettably, we sometimes deposit them in unconventional places."

 

The Seeker smiled and said, "You are indeed unique. I thank you for returning the ruler."

 

The Borrowlings handed over the ruler to the Seeker, who rejoiced at recovering the lost item. As the Borrowlings embarked on their journey back, one could overhear the Seeker engaging in introspective soliloquies, contemplating the significance of tolerance and forgiveness.

 

The tale of the Borrowlings and the Seeker transformed into a parable and allegory for the fallibility and distinctiveness of humanity. It imparted lessons on cherishing tolerance and forgiveness and recognizing that everyone possesses their own flaws. And so, the Borrowlings and humans continued to coexist harmoniously, with the Borrowlings inadvertently sowing chaos in the lives of humans, all while bearing smiles on their diminutive countenances.

Inspired by Mary Norton

The Main-Prompt:

Lilliputian, Piezoelectric hums, Halloween's near, sony a72, 24mm wide angle lens, aperture f/2.8, unreal engine 5, extrem photorealstic::, Whimsical:: --ar 3:2 --s 800 --style raw

 

Lilliputian,

Piezoelectric hums,

Halloween's near

➡️ is a Haiku

 

If reflection is to be thoughtful and deliberative, is retro-reflection to be introspective or retrospective?

 

While a mirror reflects light, if light is aimed a a mirror at an angle, the light reflects at a similar angle, but away from the light source. A retro-reflective object reflects light back towards the light source no matter what angle the light is aimed at the object.

 

Does this mean that one can be obtusely introspective?

 

Or am I think about this all wrong?

  

Details of red retro-reflective sheeting (similar to the red surface of a stop sign).

“I venti del destino soffiano quando meno ce l'aspettiamo. A volte hanno la furia di un uragano, a volte sono lievi come brezze. Ma non si possono negare, perché spesso portano un futuro impossibile da ignorare. Sei il vento che non mi aspettavo, il vento che ha soffiato più forte di quanto potessi immaginare.”

Follow my Fb page: www.facebook.com/graziamelephoto/?ref=bookmarks

and my site www.graziamele.it

*366 photos for the 20s 06/27*

 

this year I will try to choose one photo a day for this pseudo-project, no matter the motive, style, colour or technique. encouraging myself to shoot everyday, even if I can't go outside.

This image features a young woman seated at a table in a stylish, contemporary café. Behind her hangs a large black-and-white portrait of herself, echoing her pose and presence with subtle intensity. The composition invites reflection on identity and the duality of self-perception versus outward appearance. There is a calm, introspective mood to the scene, where the subject seems both observed and observing. Light and focus work in unison to highlight the equilibrium between private thought and public space.

 

This image was created using artificial intelligence and does not depict a real person.

 

Creating AI-generated images and engaging in photography are both passionate yet expensive hobbies for me. If you happen to like this image and would like to use it, I would be delighted. You can purchase the usage rights at the following link: www.imagebroker.com/14355950

 

#AIart #digitalportrait #identity #moderncafe #contemporaryart #AIphotorealism #artificialintelligence

Some of the most beautiful guitar lines ever.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-b76yiqO1E

 

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