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Sending out a positive message of love, forgiveness and peace … and missing my Mum … who always taught me the right thing to do … she lives on through me <3
“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.”
- Wayne Dyer
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8QJmI_V3j4
BY YOUR SIDE - SADE
A MOTHER'S LOVE
In silent fields I feel your hand resting gently within my own
in still waters I see your face reflecting all the love you feel
on solid bridges I feel your strength supporting me
in lichen curled and yellowed by the test of time
I feel your warmth like the sun has kissed my skin
in the fences of the fields I feel no division
I can climb the tallest fence; climb the highest tree
reach up my arms outstretched and touch the heavens
shed tears of joy as golden as the Autumn leaves
The hand that first held mine when I was just a child
was filled with my Mother's love
and though the loss of her will always be so keenly felt
as the cold November wind blows straight through me
and bends me to kneel so gently at my Mother's knee
still I feel her presence and see her face
in everything I do and say
and she is with me now; watching with a mother's grace
and directing me towards the right thing I should do
walking into light from dark shadows
my eyes had grown accustomed to the dark
but now they are all-seeing and I am all-knowing
that no-one can harm me all the while I walk my chosen path
of truth; of goodness and feel the solid ground beneath my feet
no-one can break me all the while
I bend with the wind and not against it
I walk the path that feels best beneath my feet
and I am comfortable within my own skin
and those that seek to harm me
will one day see that what they do is their karma
and with all the goodness my heart can muster
I pray for them and forgive their words that try to cut me down
I stand so tall within the protection of my Mother's eternal love
that bridges all eternity and keeps me safe
within the circle of her ever loving arms.
- AP - Copyright remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected image please do not reproduce without permission'
Explored position: 53 on Saturday, November 20, 2021.
"...In my dream I was drowning my sorrows
But my sorrows, they learned to swim
Surrounding me, going down on me
Spilling over the brim
Waves of regret and waves of joy
I reached out for the one I tried to destroy
You...you said you'd wait
'til the end of the world"
Achtung Baby is the seventh studio album by Irish rock band U2. It was produced by Daniel Lanois and Brian Eno, and was released on 18 November 1991 on Island Records. After criticism of their 1988 release Rattle and Hum, U2 shifted their direction to incorporate influences from alternative rock, industrial music, and electronic dance music into their sound. Thematically, Achtung Baby is darker, more introspective, and at times more flippant than their previous work. The album and the subsequent multimedia-intensive Zoo TV Tour were central to the group's 1990s reinvention, by which they abandoned their earnest public image for a more lighthearted and self-deprecating one.
Seeking inspiration from German reunification, U2 began recording Achtung Baby at Berlin's Hansa Studios in October 1990. The sessions were fraught with conflict, as the band argued over their musical direction and the quality of their material. After tension and slow progress nearly prompted the group to disband, they made a breakthrough with the improvised writing of the song "One".
The band referred to the album's musical departure as "the sound of four men chopping down The Joshua Tree".
The Rolling Stone magazine placed the record at number 124 on its 2020 list of "The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time" (from Wikipedia)
For me, this album is the pinnacle of their career, and the best rock album of the 90's.
For the 21-day photo challenge in order to celebrate Flickr's 21st birthday!
Day 14: Reflection
The whole album: www.flickr.com/photos/a_life_shot_in_blackandwhite/albums...
The cloister of the Clarisses is known for the unique addition of majolica tiles, added in 1742 by Domenico Antonio Vaccaro 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.
" La vie est parfois un chemin qui se termine par un ponton.
Faut-il faire demi-tour ou bien se jeter à l'eau ?" (anonyme)
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street photography from Glasgow, Scotland.
An old shot from June 2018. Enjoy!
This album's name is dedicated to my favourite game of all time Elder Scrolls Online and race of all time, The Argonians (reptile humanoids). There's a story for you to read below about some of them towards the bottom.
What does Ku Vastei mean? Read below
By Lights-the-Way, Mystic of the Mages Guild
It is hard to describe the culture of my people. Often my tongue stumbles as I try to explain, but it is my hope that ink and quill will give me time enough to gather my thoughts. And perhaps, though such writing, I will finally connect the parts of me that now feel so divided; my homeland of Murkmire and my new life within the Mages Guild.
These journals are to become my ku-vastei. And, as I write that, I can think of no better topic to begin with.
Ku-vastei roughly translates to "the catalyst of needed change," though such a direct translation in no way does justice to the original meaning. Another translation could be "that which creates the needed pathway for change to occur" or even "the spark which ignites the flame which must come into being."
Perhaps a more direct analysis should be first presented. Ku-vastei is a noun, a thing or person. Vastei directly translates to change, an important part of my culture. Ku is harder to speak of. It is that which leads to change, though not that which creates change. An important role, as stagnation is a fate worse than death.
Take a boulder which sits atop a cliff, teetering in place. It must fall eventually. The ku-vastei does not push the boulder off the cliff; rather, it picks the pebble which holds the rock in place. And so it falls, not by a push, but by a pathway cleared.
Ku-vastei is revered, just as change itself is revered, for to look back at what was means to stumble as you move forward. Sometimes, a little push in the right direction is all someone needs to remember such wisdom. Other times, they may need to be shoved.
-------------------------------------
The Gee-Rusleel Tribe
by Emmanubeth Hurrent, the Wayfarers' Society of Wayrest
I've had the privilege to speak to two different Miredancer elders now, and I've learned a great deal from both of these conversations. The "Gee-Rusleel," as they call themselves, are among the most introspective Argonians I've met in my travels. They also tend to be the most pleasant. For all their reclusiveness and wariness, I've never met a people more willing to share a meal or a game of Shells and Stones. They are skilled crafters, with a particular knack for working with Hist amber and egg shells. They are also peerless navigators, guiding their flat-bottom boats effortlessly through the swamp, master weavers, and skilled cartographers.
The most defining characteristic of the Miredancer tribe, however, is piety. This deep reverence for the Hist has earned them the right to name a "Sap-Speaker" for countless generations.
According to the elders I spoke with, the Sap-Speaker is the Hist's direct intermediary. (This is, of course, subject to debate. Many tribes boast unique methods of communion with the Hist. But as far as I have seen, the Miredancers make the most compelling case for the methods they use.) Sap-Speakers often go into seclusion for days or even weeks on end, venturing either down into the roots or high into the canopy of leaves in the uppermost branches. Here, they commune with the Hist. Indeed, the word that one of the elders used was "journey."
These journeys into the Hist tax the Sap-Speakers, but are thoroughly private affairs. After days by themselves, the Sap-Speakers emerge to hide away with old books, scrolls, and tablets. I asked after the purpose of these periods of seclusion, and this is what the elders told me. "The Sap-Speaker enters the embrace of the Hist to learn from the great tree," one elder said. "While in close contact with the roots and branches, the Sap-Speaker receives visions and other forms of communication that neither you nor I would understand."
The other elder continued. "Even the Sap-Speaker finds some of what is shown to be mystifying and confusing. I have heard that a Sap-Speaker is treated to ancient metaphors, arcane secrets, and visions that make little sense to creatures so far removed from sap and pulp." Apparently, the second period of seclusion allows the Sap-Speaker time to reflect on what he or she was shown, as well as time to consult with the ancient writings of Sap-Speakers who came before. After a suitable period of study and reflection, the Sap-Speaker emerges to reveal the Hist's will to the tribe.
I attempted to get more information about what happens while the Sap-Speaker meditates among the roots or branches, but I'm not sure the elders knew much more. They did tell me that the only nourishment the Sap-Speaker receives during these periods of seclusion is provided by the Hist itself in the form of sap, leaves, and the otherwise forbidden fruit of the tree.
There is a price to pay for the gift of Hist communion, however. Ingesting large quantities of Hist sap is a dangerous affair, even for Argonians. Sap-Speakers routinely suffer the effects of sap-poisoning, including "gold tongue" (permanent change of mouth pigmentation to a golden hue), unbidden hallucinations, "bark-scale" (thickening and darkening of surface scales), and other maladies they were reticent to talk about. The current Sap-Speaker, Thumarz, was in seclusion during my visit to the tribal village. I hope to meet him someday. If he's half as wise as the elders I interacted with, I'd no doubt learn a great deal from him.
Despite their deeply religious nature, the Miredancers also seem to have an obsession with games of all types. They are particularly fond of the games Nine-Shells and Shells and Stones, as well as sports such as the popular "teeba-hatsei" (also known as "hip and tail ball.") In addition to lovingly explaining their own games, they wanted to know everything I could tell them about the games we play back in Wayrest. I must admit, their enthusiasm was quite infectious! And I found it highly amusing to watch them try to re-create Deceiver's Bones from the vague description I provided.
The Miredancers are also inveterate gamblers, but they often forget to collect their winnings. Unlike the games of men and mer, Miredancer competitions appear to be completely devoid of malice or injured pride. Victory and defeat seem more like afterthoughts than objectives, due in no small part to their phlegmatic disposition. As in most things, their focus is strictly on the moment—the now. It pains me to leave their village, but I still have many more tribes to study. I doubt any of them will be as fascinating or as friendly as the Miredancers.
["the tribe is not currently in the game but in the world of the game"]
“Divide each difficulty into as many parts as is feasible and necessary to resolve it. “
- René Descartes
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=an4ySOlsUMY
HOW LONG WILL I LOVE YOU by ELLIE GOULDING
I LEAVE OUT ALL DESIRE
As I stand amid the poppies and smell their sweet perfume
I know that I am leaving here to find a land where I belong
I am knee deep dancing in the wind
that blows me who knows where
but one thing that I'm certain of is I'll leave without a care
there is nothing left to keep me here except this field of dreams
but I need to find another world to replace the red with cream
too much vivid colour has drained me of all reason
I need to feel snow underfoot; I need another season
red the colour of my heart; passionate; sincere
but oh so easily broken and drowned with all my tears
a perfect soul; does it really exist; I have no way of knowing
the wind's impatient just like me; I shrug and keep on going
I pack a suitcase with my life and leave out all desire
there's room enough to fill one day if someone lights my fire
my steps are lighter as though I fly above the scarlet land
where once my soul was tethered to a gentle caring man
where is he now I wonder briefly but it's just a fleeting thought
he wasn't always gentle as the time that followed taught
why do we start as one thing and let ourselves be shaped
by life and love and everything that passed by us and scraped
another scar; a pack of lies; broken bones as fragile as a bird's
bleached and leached
by the harshness of someone's scorching words
the sea rises up to claim me;
the salt-laden air cauterises my wounds
but the scars inside me will remain
long after my love for him has been consumed
I close my eyes and dare to dream;
a world with pastel colours; predominantly cream
but maybe with pure white of snow;
of graceful swans and angels wings
somewhere where time has no other meaning
than the soft beating of my heart
rhythmic; gentle like butterflies wings
and the whispered words of Descartes ...
AP – Copyright remains with the author
'copyright image please do not reproduce without permission'
My artwork is a compilation of 4 of my photographs
Presence
High Peaks Wilderness, NY
I make the steep climb up Mt Jo on the short trail to be in time for sunrise, a somewhat treacherous exercise on that trail by the light of a headlamp. This first objective fizzles behind a socked in horizon, farther east and behind more foliage than I had expected. So now I wait for the vista south, wondering when the partly sunny forecast will begin. Below me is a dull expanse of Adirondack autumn, with ascending ridge lines disappearing into the gloom. The presence of great mountains makes me more introspective, I think. I often imagine the specter of people near to my heart in these idle minutes away from the domestic grind, remembering moments and invoking a word, a touch, or a smile. Lost in the nearness of you I am almost startled when the sky breaks open from the east, and a waterfall of light pours across the basin. This is what I’m here for, and I turn to the task until it’s gone, closed again behind the stratocumulus. I gather to leave for other adventures, but for a few moments I might bask in the aura you leave behind.
experiment with form and feeling.
I've been going through a rather introspectively tough time for several months now but I believe I am starting to come out the other side of it.
The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here
Let me know the way
~The Beatles
Regno Unito, Cornovaglia, Looe, Estate 2015
Looe è una piccola città e porto di pescatori in Cornovaglia, nel Regno Unito. La città è divisa in due dal fiume Looe, West e East Looe collegate da un ponte. Est si rivela come il gemello gregario, tutte le gelaterie, strade assolate, birrerie, escursioni di pesca allo squalo con racconti sul passato da contrabbandieri. West è più introspettivo. Qui familiarmente ti chiedono se vivi dal lato “soleggiato” o da quello dei “soldi”. Evidenze archeologiche indicano che l'area intorno a Looe era abitata già nel 1000 aC. Looe rimane una città di pescatori. Con la sua flotta di piccole barche da pesca che riportano le loro catture in porto tutti i giorni, Looe ha la reputazione per l’ottimo pesce fresco. La città è anche un centro per la pesca degli squali.
Looe is a small coastal town and fishing port in Cornwall, UK. The town is divided in two by the River Looe, East and West connected by a bridge. East reveals itself as the gregarious twin, all ice-cream shops, sunny streets, alehouses, shark-fishing-trip touts with ribald tales of smuggling pasts. West is more introspective. Round here they ask if you live on the sunny side or the money side. Archeological evidence indicates that the area around Looe was inhabited as early as 1000 BC. Looe remains a fishing town. With its fleet of small fishing boats returning their catches to port daily, Looe has a reputation for procuring excellent fresh fish. The town is also a centre for shark fishing.
Nikon Nikkor AIs 85 1.4.
Painter, Comic Artist, Body Builder, Upholsterer, Marker Artist, Pencil Artist, Father, Husband, Country, Believer, Son, Grandson, Brother, Philosopher, Dreamer, Friend, Introspective, and above all an incredibly interesting human being.
Model release signed.
Image originally generated with DALL-E, then enhanced through upscaling in Leonardo AI and finally refined with Topaz Gigapixel AI.
The cityscape captured from across the bay in the early morning hours. As the absence of vibrant colors adds a timeless and introspective atmosphere the cloudy skies lend a touch of drama. A solitary blue light beacons as a guiding point with its gentle radiance piercing through the grayscale cityscape like a lighthouse in the night. It stands as a symbol of hope, navigation, and inspiration.
Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | 500px
Sei que é muito pouco comparado com algumas galerias super pops por aew mais eu tô feliz com meus 20.000 views. TKS!!! Mesmo porque eu tenho pouquíssimas fotos.
Sobre a foto como sempre fiquei em duvida entre PB e Color, terminei postando PB mas quem quiser vê a outra versão tá ai em baixo.
Faz tempo que tô querendo tirar uns portraits mais simples, porém que expressem muito, vou tentar mais não prometo nada. hehe
Semana corrida.. desculpa ai se esqueci de comentar a foto de alguem no FDS acerto as contas..^^
I find images such as this the ones that really let the viewer know who the artist is. For me this is the acoustic, this is who I am...quiet & introverted, not really wanting to stand out with all the flash.
"La única forma de sanar
está en la sinceridad de tus ojos"
"The only way to heal
It's in the sincerity of your eyes"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3zWvGwPjz8
the gathering - waking hour
Gracias a todos por vuestras visitas y comentarios.
Thank you all for your visits and comments.
Painter, Comic Artist, Body Builder, Upholsterer, Marker Artist, Pencil Artist, Father, Husband, Country, Believer, Son, Grandson, Brother, Philosopher, Dreamer, Friend, Introspective, and above all an incredibly interesting human being. Nikon Nikkor 85mm 1.4 AIS.
Model release signed.
Version 2.0 is the second studio album by American rock band Garbage. It was released on May 11, 1998. With this album, the band aimed to improve and expand upon the style of their 1995 eponymous debut rather than reinventing their sound. Lead singer Shirley Manson wrote dark, introspective lyrics, which she felt complemented the songs' melodies.
Building on framework sound and style Garbage established on their debut set, Version 2.0 featured musical references to the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, songs featuring live strings, over 100 recorded tracks, and an interpolation of the Beach Boys and The Pretenders. The band said that the goal of Version 2.0 was to create a "rapprochement between the high-tech and low-down, the now sound and of golden memories." Butch Vig stated that the band did not want to reinvent their sound, as they "felt that we had carved our own turf on the first record and we wanted to take everything we did and make it better".
While Garbage had lyrical input from all band members, Manson was responsible for all the lyrics in Version 2.0.[5] Consequently, it was described by Manson as "more direct and more personal than the first. I was able to verbalize things a little clearer this time—I mean, I'm no Nick Cave, I'm never gonna be Bob Dylan. I do what I can to express myself."[4] The singer "tried to let the darker undercurrents come through to offset some of the pop melodies", adding that "like human beings, songs shouldn't be one-dimensional"
(from Wikipedia)
Happy 25th anniversary, Version 2.0!
"...Somebody get me out of here
I'm tearing at myself
I've got to make a point these days
To extricate myself
Somebody get me out of here
I'm tearing at myself
Nobody gives a damn about me
Or anybody else
And still you call me co-dependent
Somehow you lay the blame on me"
Explore position: 70 on Saturday, May 13, 2023
"...What for years kept me
idle and infirm, almost helpless
with the easing of a long illness, is
blind attachment to images, and yet
a strange urge to be consumed"
N.A.Aslanoglou ~ WHAT NUMBS ME EVERMORE
"... Ό,τι χρόνια με κράτησε
άπραχτο και φιλάσθενο, σχεδόν ανυπεράσπιστο
με το μαλάκωμα της μακριάς αρρώστιας, είναι
προσήλωση τυφλή σε ομοιώματα κι ακόμα
παράξενη επιμονή να καταναλωθούμε"
Ν.Α.Ασλάνογλου ~ Ό,τι για πάντα με μουδιάζει
View On Black | Al mateix lloc amb la Laura.
Made Explore! Thanks everyone.
and Front Page on Explore...!!! Thanks again dear flickr friends! :D
This album's name is dedicated to my favourite game of all time Elder Scrolls Online and race of all time, The Argonians (reptile humanoids). There's a story for you to read below about some of them towards the bottom.
What does Ku Vastei mean? Read below
By Lights-the-Way, Mystic of the Mages Guild
It is hard to describe the culture of my people. Often my tongue stumbles as I try to explain, but it is my hope that ink and quill will give me time enough to gather my thoughts. And perhaps, though such writing, I will finally connect the parts of me that now feel so divided; my homeland of Murkmire and my new life within the Mages Guild.
These journals are to become my ku-vastei. And, as I write that, I can think of no better topic to begin with.
Ku-vastei roughly translates to "the catalyst of needed change," though such a direct translation in no way does justice to the original meaning. Another translation could be "that which creates the needed pathway for change to occur" or even "the spark which ignites the flame which must come into being."
Perhaps a more direct analysis should be first presented. Ku-vastei is a noun, a thing or person. Vastei directly translates to change, an important part of my culture. Ku is harder to speak of. It is that which leads to change, though not that which creates change. An important role, as stagnation is a fate worse than death.
Take a boulder which sits atop a cliff, teetering in place. It must fall eventually. The ku-vastei does not push the boulder off the cliff; rather, it picks the pebble which holds the rock in place. And so it falls, not by a push, but by a pathway cleared.
Ku-vastei is revered, just as change itself is revered, for to look back at what was means to stumble as you move forward. Sometimes, a little push in the right direction is all someone needs to remember such wisdom. Other times, they may need to be shoved.
-------------------------------------
The Gee-Rusleel Tribe
by Emmanubeth Hurrent, the Wayfarers' Society of Wayrest
I've had the privilege to speak to two different Miredancer elders now, and I've learned a great deal from both of these conversations. The "Gee-Rusleel," as they call themselves, are among the most introspective Argonians I've met in my travels. They also tend to be the most pleasant. For all their reclusiveness and wariness, I've never met a people more willing to share a meal or a game of Shells and Stones. They are skilled crafters, with a particular knack for working with Hist amber and egg shells. They are also peerless navigators, guiding their flat-bottom boats effortlessly through the swamp, master weavers, and skilled cartographers.
The most defining characteristic of the Miredancer tribe, however, is piety. This deep reverence for the Hist has earned them the right to name a "Sap-Speaker" for countless generations.
According to the elders I spoke with, the Sap-Speaker is the Hist's direct intermediary. (This is, of course, subject to debate. Many tribes boast unique methods of communion with the Hist. But as far as I have seen, the Miredancers make the most compelling case for the methods they use.) Sap-Speakers often go into seclusion for days or even weeks on end, venturing either down into the roots or high into the canopy of leaves in the uppermost branches. Here, they commune with the Hist. Indeed, the word that one of the elders used was "journey."
These journeys into the Hist tax the Sap-Speakers, but are thoroughly private affairs. After days by themselves, the Sap-Speakers emerge to hide away with old books, scrolls, and tablets. I asked after the purpose of these periods of seclusion, and this is what the elders told me. "The Sap-Speaker enters the embrace of the Hist to learn from the great tree," one elder said. "While in close contact with the roots and branches, the Sap-Speaker receives visions and other forms of communication that neither you nor I would understand."
The other elder continued. "Even the Sap-Speaker finds some of what is shown to be mystifying and confusing. I have heard that a Sap-Speaker is treated to ancient metaphors, arcane secrets, and visions that make little sense to creatures so far removed from sap and pulp." Apparently, the second period of seclusion allows the Sap-Speaker time to reflect on what he or she was shown, as well as time to consult with the ancient writings of Sap-Speakers who came before. After a suitable period of study and reflection, the Sap-Speaker emerges to reveal the Hist's will to the tribe.
I attempted to get more information about what happens while the Sap-Speaker meditates among the roots or branches, but I'm not sure the elders knew much more. They did tell me that the only nourishment the Sap-Speaker receives during these periods of seclusion is provided by the Hist itself in the form of sap, leaves, and the otherwise forbidden fruit of the tree.
There is a price to pay for the gift of Hist communion, however. Ingesting large quantities of Hist sap is a dangerous affair, even for Argonians. Sap-Speakers routinely suffer the effects of sap-poisoning, including "gold tongue" (permanent change of mouth pigmentation to a golden hue), unbidden hallucinations, "bark-scale" (thickening and darkening of surface scales), and other maladies they were reticent to talk about. The current Sap-Speaker, Thumarz, was in seclusion during my visit to the tribal village. I hope to meet him someday. If he's half as wise as the elders I interacted with, I'd no doubt learn a great deal from him.
Despite their deeply religious nature, the Miredancers also seem to have an obsession with games of all types. They are particularly fond of the games Nine-Shells and Shells and Stones, as well as sports such as the popular "teeba-hatsei" (also known as "hip and tail ball.") In addition to lovingly explaining their own games, they wanted to know everything I could tell them about the games we play back in Wayrest. I must admit, their enthusiasm was quite infectious! And I found it highly amusing to watch them try to re-create Deceiver's Bones from the vague description I provided.
The Miredancers are also inveterate gamblers, but they often forget to collect their winnings. Unlike the games of men and mer, Miredancer competitions appear to be completely devoid of malice or injured pride. Victory and defeat seem more like afterthoughts than objectives, due in no small part to their phlegmatic disposition. As in most things, their focus is strictly on the moment—the now. It pains me to leave their village, but I still have many more tribes to study. I doubt any of them will be as fascinating or as friendly as the Miredancers.
["the tribe is not currently in the game but in the world of the game"]
© Leanne Boulton, All Rights Reserved
Street photography from Glasgow, Scotland.
Colour graded re-edit of a shot from September 2018. Wishing you all a wonderful weekend of photography - stay safe and well my Flickr Friends.
📢 one click in pic ... second click and wait one second .. amazing details. 📢
CREDITS
♦ Top by Paper. - Nessa
♦ Pants by Paper. - Renia
♦ Dimples in my face by [NoRush] - Lively
♦ Pose by SH Poses & SH Infinity Props - Relax for me - or see their Markeplace for all amazing pose, click here
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📢 one click in pic ... second click and wait one second .. amazing details. 📢
CREDITS:
Dress by Dreamcatcher - Emily Latex dress
Cigarette in my hand by Dreamcatcher - Cigarette with mouthpiece
Freckless in my face by [NoRush] - Intense Freckles
Hair by DOUX - Chill Hairstyle
Pose by Amitie -Friends Smoke
Bracelet by Asteria - "Heaven"
Body Freckless & Veins by Izzie
📣If you are curious to see all the product's links, click here and see this post on our blog ♥❗❗
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youtu.be/H73b9MMXDO8?si=tGLqIJiPtH5oXhLX
Delta blues is one of the earliest-known styles of blues. It originated in the Mississippi Delta and is regarded as a regional variant of country blues. Guitar and harmonica are its dominant instruments; slide guitar is a hallmark of the style. Vocal styles in Delta blues range from introspective and soulful to passionate and fiery.
The window, the street lamp, the signal
Un immagine urbana di un paese siciliano, dove i colori sono sempre caldi e quasi introspettivi. Una finestra di altri tempi dietro ad un lampione, quasi l'uno a guardare l'altro. Al fianco un segnale stradale un poco consumato dalle intemperie, dal vento e dal sole. Un trittico che sembra sottolineare un'amicizia di lunga data.
An urban image of a Sicilian town, where the colors are always warm and almost introspective. A window of other times behind a lamppost, almost looking at each other. Alongside a road sign slightly worn by bad weather, wind and sun. A triptych that seems to underline a long-standing friendship.
“Love --- all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want.”
Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
Soundtrack : www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJbmXvBJhCs
Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars
WHEN BUTTER MELTS AND MOODS TURN BLUE
When butter melts and moods turn blue, I fall asleep and dream of you
in another world we are as one, but in the real world we are none.
other than friends that's all there is; to listen, admire and sometimes kiss.
Am I alright you ask of me. Yes I answer, as I can be.
When I awake from slumbered dreams, I see reflected in my stream
a face I know but seldom seen; my spirit purged remains serene.
Serenity is my finer hour, devoid of love that may devour
the whole of me that shackled love with heavy chains that cage the dove;
of peace and endless summer time, back in those days when you were mine.
Eyes wide shut but open wide, I left my secrets for you to hide.
I walked a path constrained by my, blinkered vision of the sky.
You see the sky is free above; no need to hanker for a love
forbidden like the poisoned apple that threatens sleep in sunlight dappled
upon the woods and green landscape you freed me when I would not escape.
I thank you from my heart, my Friend. I'm free of torment without end.
I lay in meadows sumptuous yellow,' matted buttercups, thoughts now mellow
and dream of times when I will meet, a love that matches all that's sweet
within my heart remains the pure untainted love somewhat demure,
so tender, warm and softly waiting for someone worthy of translating
the essence that's the whole of me; blue skies in eyes; deep as the sea
and then and only then I'll rest the quest for love when only best
will do for me and satiate this deep desire that penetrates
the heart of me and fills my soul with dusky romance that cajoles
the beating of my heart to step in time with kindred spirit we will chime
and dance to tunes only we hear; no longer lonely filled with fear.
but dreams come true fly high and up; look down on yellow buttercups.
- AP – Copyright remains with the author
Original digital artwork by me
'copyright image please do not reproduce without permission'