View allAll Photos Tagged Introspective
It's strange how a moment could be so introspective in circumstances that are adverse to such analysis. Surrounded by up to 100 other photographers, I found myself lost in the uncertain and imperfect skies contrasting in more ways than one with the contradictions of new and old human ingenuity. I felt as though I was alone in that moment. I felt as though I knew what were the right answers to the questions I had been asking myself all week. Simply? Serendipity.
NS/UP OCS 066H603: UP9082/UP1943
Moodna Viaduct
NS/MNCW Southern Tier Line
Salisbury Mills, Town of New Windsor, NY
Sunday, June 3rd, 2018
©2018 Matthew James Ryan, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This photo may not be republished, copied, printed or used in any way, on any medium and under any circumstances without written consent.
Mee is an introspective korean Literature Student, who spends most of her free time at home, reading.
MEE SHAPE is for Lelutka Kaya head, and supports Maitreya (reg., petite, flat), Legacy (reg., perky), and Reborn. Comes with a very complete style card and 3 physics sets.
Buy it in-world (25% off for group members, free to join, ltd. time) maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Plazaland/31/207/2001
Check our MP shop marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/248657
Filtered light in the forest highlights boulders submerged. Water casts reflections of blue sky above.
Carson Iceberg Wilderness, California
Introspective musings is back and on the blog, today. Got all wordy again, and stuff. Why I do what I do: Finding purpose through photography. I'd love to hear your two cents on why you do what you do, and what you learn from photography (which is really what I elaborate on over there).
On this last day of the gratitude project: I am grateful for photography, and what it has done for me as a person, not just as a photographer.
tired is
being too afraid to sleep
for fear of dreaming
of them
and waking
to find it was just that
a dream
i am tired
Going for a timeless glamour vibe with this shot. The pose, the heels, the mood – it all just came together.
It has been 4 years ago since I made this photograph. Until now i’ve always been afraid to post this picture.
Days have been really poisoning, constantly having to defend yourself. Putting yourself on a low heat. Let days pass by, kind of like watching the world burn. unfulfilled desires, actually having no desires at all. Introspective anger, going against the current.
But you know what, there’s one thing that you have that nobody else has. And that’s your voice, your mind, your vision. But especially your story. Haven’t you ever confused a dream with life? Don’t deceive yourself.
Just a break
A lonely break
To see the world, with my only eyes.
A breath.
Looking to the tenuous line on the end
A moment to clear all thoughts
and look into ourselves
A minute to realize what is wrong
What make us cry.
A breath that comes so deep that can make us stop
Stop breathing.
Let it in
and appreciate what make us free.
Have a break.
"Concept Graphics" of new photo project .
An introspective journey through man in network .
( This is just the graphic concept , wait for see more )
Tut tut. Rather a lapse of professional conduct here, I'm afraid. I don't remember ever having the print of this shot, and this must be the first time I've scanned it. Accordingly I'd not previously seen the comic pose of the driver, who adopts a 'flashing' attitude to present us with a view of his shirt-front, tie and braces. The bus was entering Royal Well Bus Station, Cheltenham, on the 15-minute headway service from Gloucester on Friday 16th December 1977. Evidently our man must have been a fun-loving sort of chap, always ready for a laugh and a joke, and a popular figure in the canteen. Across the gulf of thirty-nine years I smile at his amusing gesture, which seems to say, "life's a grim business, but let's try to have a bit of fun while we're here". It extends the hand of a common humanity and reproaches me for my introspective, not-a-fun-person, po-faced, Paul von Hindenburg demeanor. The Gardner-engined FLF didn't have much longer to go, being withdrawn on 31st August 1978.
All Saints, Holbrook, Suffolk
The Shotley Peninsula is a pastoral scattering of gentle hamlets along high hedged lanes which thread over hills and through woodlands. Other settlements line the Orwell estuary, the full drama of the wide water and forests beyond constantly on show. The road along the northern shore is a busy one, as is the Ipswich to Manningtree road which cuts the Peninsula off from the rest of Suffolk, but otherwise this is an introspective, secretive landscape, especially on the southern side. No wonder people long to live there.
The Peninsula has only two places of any real size; broad functional Shotley itself, at the eastern tip, and Holbrook to the west, a rather more prosperous proposition. Holbrook is home to the famous Royal Hospital School, a vast 1930s neo-classical confection designed for the sons and daughters of the Navy. Its campanile tower is a landmark for miles around; you can see it from tower blocks in the centre of Ipswich. The school inhabits a large campus to the south of the village, and injects lifeblood into the local economy.
So here we still have jobs, and shops, a high school and a couple of pubs. Oh, and a pretty village church, behind a high hedge. The village is rather a suburban one; such an economy generates and thrives on traffic, and all the peninsula comes here to stock up.
At first sight, the arrangement of the church is a bit odd. This is one of the 14th Century south-east towers commonly found in the Ipswich area, and the nave to the north of it was probably contemporary with it. But a small, low south aisle was built a century later, running eastwards of it, and the effect now is of a tiny church with a huge north aisle. In fact, there is a 19th century north aisle beyond the nave, the work of Diocesan architect Richard Phipson; it has a rather awkward juxtaposition with the nave at the west end, with an angled doorway. The nave west window appears to be made of terracotta. The best feature of the exterior is the clerestory, somewhat hidden by the south aisle, but picked out beautifully in red brick.
The interior is almost entirely Victorian, again the work of Richard Phipson. Although it now has a fairly rustic and simple Low Church feel to it, which is very pleasant, a glance at the chancel shows that Phipson fitted it out for the kind of mystical, incense-led 19th Century High Church worship which he loved, and for which his St Mary le Tower in Ipswich is the crowning moment in Suffolk. Most of the fittings are now gone, but the sense of the past remains.
Holbrook church contains one major pre-Victorian survival. This is the monument to one of the arch-villains of the English Reformation. It is a huge memorial at the east end of the south aisle. Sir John Clenche is the figure above his daughter-in-law on the huge memorial in the south aisle. Clenche was High Sheriff of Suffolk, but is more famous, and more notorious, for being the judge who sentenced Saint Margaret Clitherow to death.
In 1586, Margaret Clitherow, the middle-class wife of a York butcher, was accused of treason against the state. This was a catch-all charge designed to root out Catholicism; she was told, as all martyrs of the time were, that the charges would be dropped if she renounced Catholicism, and conformed to the Anglican church. This she refused to do, and also refused to enter a plea, saying that "having made no offence, I need no trial". Failure to make a plea was a capital crime in itself, of course, and Clenche's sentence was that you shall return to the place from whence you came, and in the lower part of the prison be stripped naked, laid down upon the ground, and so much weight laid upon you as you are able to bear, and thus you shall continue for three days; the third day you shall have a sharp stone laid under your back, and your hands and feet shall be tied to posts that, more weight being laid upon you, you may be pressed to death.
Popular Catholic martyrology has it that Clitherow's only problem with her sentence was the bit about being stripped naked; the night before she was crushed, she supposedly made a shift to wear. This was not allowed her, but it was placed over the lower part of her body to preserve her modesty from the paying spectators. The final sentence was carried out on the 25th of March 1586. Brennan's Martyrs of the English Reformation recalls that a stone the size of a man's fist was placed under her back, her arms were stretched out and tied with cords provided; a door was placed upon her, and stones piled upon it by some beggars hired for the purpose. Her last words were 'Jesu have mercy upon me!' and when her chest was crushed her ribs protruded, and she was left in this postion for six hours.
The body was thrown on a dunghill on the outskirts of the city, but was rescued after six weeks by local Catholics, who found it 'free of putrefaction'. In May 1970 she was canonised as one of the martyrs of England and Wales by Pope Paul VI. There are images of her at Holy Family church in Kesgrave, a few miles off, and at Our Lady Star of the Sea in Wells in Norfolk, and the story of her martyrdom can be seen in stained glass just across the border at the church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs in Cambridge.
Teenage Fanclub
Book :
Ed Ruscha
Works From The UBS Art Collection
Hatje Cantz
2018
CD :
Pet Shop Boys
Introspective
Parlophone
1988
Design . Mark Farrow
Use Hearing Protection
GMA
The Fall
Artist's Book :
Scott King
Britlin's
Reading International
2017
Artworks by Scott King
Texts by Matthew Morley
CD :
Butlin's Boys
Parlophone
2018
Music by Neil Tennant & Chris Lowe
Design by Mark Farrow
iTunes :
The Fall
Permanent Records
PERM13
GMA True Intent Is All For Your Delight ...
Artist: Damian Michaels
Title: The Journey Within
Medium: Acrylic paint on stretched canvas
Size: 760 x 610 mm
Year: 2013
Signed lower front bottom right corner within image.
When I was younger I loved the rain. To me the rain was like something that came and washed all the icky stuff away and made everything seem fresh and clean and new again. Lately the rain has seemed more ominous to me; more like a dark cloud than a silver lining.
I've been pretty introspective lately, wishing I'd done XYZ with my life instead of ABC, feeling that I should be further in my career, have accomplished more, like some luminous cloud hanging over my very existence.
Last night I spoke to a friend of many years. I asked about how his life was, and his family and all, and he indicated that his life seemed to be going well but he had a friend he was concerned about.
She was recently informed that she has incurable cancer. Basically they gave her 5 years before the cancer would overtake her body. She is 34 years old.
I'm not sure of all the details and all, but what I do remember from the conversation was this...[paraphrased here] The doctors told her she could have some operations to prolong her life, but she decided she was just going to live it instead
Wow, imagine... what would you do, if you knew you only had a few more years to live? Would you do things differently? Scrap your job and go travel the world? Try a new career? Find old friends and family or just leave everything behind? I'm not sure what I'd do in that situation and am so very thankful I don't have to make the choice.
It is moments like these that make me realize just how "not so bad" my life really is!! What a reality check huh.
The eye explores,
with vivid and childlike curiosity,
the much-loved and less well known places in the French capital.
The photograph uses a long-exposure technique,
and refusing the use of a solid tripod,
he walks around, discovers and experiences Paris during the same shoot,
creating introspective, expressive and dreamy images,
that describe the vibration of his exploration of the urban space.
West 13th Street, NYC
by navema
Street Artists include: Elbow-Toe, Mr. Brainwash (MBW), Clown Solider, & Gaia
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Photo taken in March 2010 (original taken in December 2009): www.flickr.com/photos/28488028@N06/4268622356/in/set-7215...
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"There is a crack in the bubble that is so damn large, that I could swim forever in the open space" ~ Elbow-Toe
ELBOW-TOE is a Brooklyn, NY based artist that has been creating introspective urban art for several years. His artwork for the streets is grounded in myth, symbolism and poetry and is primarily executed in woodcut, stencil or large-scale charcoal drawings. His oeuvre is a study of human gesture as communication and he utilizes public spaces
as stages for private moments. He is particularly interested in the ability of environmental forces outside his control to create a timeless quality to the work thereby allowing it to feel as if it has been memory and is part of the collective unconscious.
ELBOW-TOE’s gallery work focuses on portraiture and abstract narrative and is primarily executed in collage. These intricate collages at first glance might be mistaken for paintings given that they have a fluidity rarely seen in collages. Whilst his work has a very unique style it draws on a rich history of figurative painting and has qualities reminiscent of Freud, Bacon and Soutine.
For more information about the artist, visit: www.elbow-toe.com
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"All You Need is Love" (John Lennon & Panda) Wheatpaste
MR BRAINWASH (aka Thierry Guetta) is a Los Angeles based French street artist, Mr. Brainwash, the alter-ego of French immigrant Thierry Guetta, who now lives in Los Angeles. His preoccupation with street art and graffiti led him to years filming the people behind the work, and eventually he became an artist too.
This body of work being presented in the exhibition ICONS is the result of traveling throughout Europe and the United States as the subject of Banksy's new documentary, Exit Through the Gift Shop. This documentary about the process secretly premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January of 2010. It wasn’t listed in the program, but quickly became the hottest ticket at the festival. Featuring famed street artists like Banksy, Ron English, Borf and Shepard Fairey, the viewer is able to watch the famous fiends at work. One of the most memorable scenes is of Banksy installing an inflatable replica of a Guantanamo torture victim right next to a roller coaster in The Happiest Place On Earth — Disneyland.
Being a trusted accomplice of Banksy is no small feat — and accomplice is perhaps a better word than friend, given that Banksy described Guetta as “maybe just someone with mental problems who happened to have a camera.”
Since his entrance onto the contemporary art scene in 2008 with his Los Angles show “Life is Beautiful”, Mr. Brainwash (Guetta) has raised a lot of questions, namely ‘is he for real?’ Guetta began to follow the exploits street artists’ Shepard Fairey and Banksy with a digital video camera, but soon Banksy turned the camera on Guetta, encouraging him to create his own persona, which is the end product of Exit Through the Gift Shop, the documentary being billed as ‘the world’s first street art disaster movie’. Critics and gallerists alike have written him off as a hack, or simply a regurgitation of Banksy and Shepard Fairey’s existing work.
For more about the artist, visit: www.mrbrainwash.com
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Clown Wheatpaste
CLOWN SOLDIER
For more info, visit: www.clownsoldier.com
To view the artist's photostream, visit: www.flickr.com/photos/46091260@N04/
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Bird Wheatpaste
GAIA is a Brooklyn and Baltimore based street artist with a background in Printmaking and Sculpture. Marrying the animal and the human form, Gaia conjures mysterious figures that carry a heavy sense of mythology and recall a past when man and nature were once united. These romantic creatures stand in relief to the urban environment as they lurk and beckon in the city’s forgotten and neglected spaces. The conveyance of their story relies on the chance coincidence with a passerby, and even in that intimate moment, their narrative is precarious and delicate.
For more info, visit: gaiastreetart.com/
To view the artist's photostream, visit: www.flickr.com/photos/gaiastreetart/
I was sitting at the table of an outdoor cafe on Nicollet Mall in Minneapolis with my cameras when this—very handsome—man asked me if he could sit with me and talk. As he told me his life story, including the story about his homelessness, he begged me to please take some photos of him. Of course, he didn't have to ask me twice, and this is my favorite of him.
If eyes are the windows to the soul, as I fervently believe, his eyes say more about him than his words ever could. I have not seen him since.
“I don't know, I don't want to talk as much. (...) It's nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one's heart, like treasures. I don't like to have them laughed at or wondered over.” -Anne Shirley ("Anne of Green Gables")
Everybody just wants to be themselves. Sometimes it's hard to be "you" during the day. You're an employee, a boss, a student, a teacher, a mother, a father, a child, a a person with their eyes set on the goal of getting from point A to point B without any breakdowns between them. You've got to find that moment in the day when you can be YOU. When you are looking to get from here to there, when you are not waiting on someone or waiting for something, where your brain is not being pulled in six different directions, where you can stand or sit - even just for one brief moment - and take a deep breath then exhale the whole day out of your system.
When I finally get to that moment in the day where I know I don't have to go out of the house again, I go in my bedroom and change into my old, baggy sweats that are covered with the the marks of home improvement - paint, wood stain, some other unrecognizable smudges - they are not pants I would wear out of the house, but they are my HOME pants, and they are ME. They are the most comfortable things I own and when I slip into them I feel like I can breathe. Then I breathe in deep, exhale, throw on a sweatshirt and my converse and go stand out in the backyard for a minute or two. For the rest of the night, I am ME. I am still a mother, partner, worker, teacher, student, and everything we all are, but I feel like ME. Which is all I want to be.
(the title is from the Smashing Pumpkins song Mayonaise, which has been in my head for two days. One of my favorite songs ever, probably in my top ten, you can listen to it here.
Haruki Murakami's books are another common element in the periods of my life after some crisis or storm, when everything calms down and tends to be more introspective and silent and deep. He's here again and "Kafka on the shore" is a book I read and read and there's always something more in there to find. Having Simon the cat around only makes the influence of the book stronger, as if it has somehow come to life.
No rock tune this week, but there is certainly a soundtrack: Bluebeard's Castle by Bela Bartok.
I am now experimenting with hand-colouring some of my prints. It is a mind-calming exercise, eliciting quiet, introspective moments, far away from electronic media and television. I sometimes listen to my favorite music as I do it. This is one of the first "selfies" I practiced with. I don't have it anymore: I sent it -via snail mail- to a dear faraway friend of mine. I find it very rewarding to increasingly give some sort of "gravitas" to each and every one of my daily actions, from taking a photograph to sitting down in front a sheet of paper and writing by hand to a friend. As you might understand, we won't last forever, we might as well try to put some love and time and individuality in each thing we do. That is antithetical to what this modern age dictates. But, really, what's the rush?. Let's try to enjoy the little time we have on this planet, millisecond by millisecond-as it won't ever come back- and let's permeate all our actions with as much care and love we are able to summon. There is no defeating the ever increasing numbers in a person's life, but there is a true necessity to learn to love and make the best of each one of them.
All Saints, Holbrook, Suffolk
The Shotley Peninsula is a pastoral scattering of gentle hamlets along high hedged lanes which thread over hills and through woodlands. Other settlements line the Orwell estuary, the full drama of the wide water and forests beyond constantly on show. The road along the northern shore is a busy one, as is the Ipswich to Manningtree road which cuts the Peninsula off from the rest of Suffolk, but otherwise this is an introspective, secretive landscape, especially on the southern side. No wonder people long to live there.
The Peninsula has only two places of any real size; broad functional Shotley itself, at the eastern tip, and Holbrook to the west, a rather more prosperous proposition. Holbrook is home to the famous Royal Hospital School, a vast 1930s neo-classical confection designed for the sons and daughters of the Navy. Its campanile tower is a landmark for miles around; you can see it from tower blocks in the centre of Ipswich. The school inhabits a large campus to the south of the village, and injects lifeblood into the local economy.
So here we still have jobs, and shops, a high school and a couple of pubs. Oh, and a pretty village church, behind a high hedge. The village is rather a suburban one; such an economy generates and thrives on traffic, and all the peninsula comes here to stock up.
At first sight, the arrangement of the church is a bit odd. This is one of the 14th Century south-east towers commonly found in the Ipswich area, and the nave to the north of it was probably contemporary with it. But a small, low south aisle was built a century later, running eastwards of it, and the effect now is of a tiny church with a huge north aisle. In fact, there is a 19th century north aisle beyond the nave, the work of Diocesan architect Richard Phipson; it has a rather awkward juxtaposition with the nave at the west end, with an angled doorway. The nave west window appears to be made of terracotta. The best feature of the exterior is the clerestory, somewhat hidden by the south aisle, but picked out beautifully in red brick.
The interior is almost entirely Victorian, again the work of Richard Phipson. Although it now has a fairly rustic and simple Low Church feel to it, which is very pleasant, a glance at the chancel shows that Phipson fitted it out for the kind of mystical, incense-led 19th Century High Church worship which he loved, and for which his St Mary le Tower in Ipswich is the crowning moment in Suffolk. Most of the fittings are now gone, but the sense of the past remains.
Holbrook church contains one major pre-Victorian survival. This is the monument to one of the arch-villains of the English Reformation. It is a huge memorial at the east end of the south aisle. Sir John Clenche is the figure above his daughter-in-law on the huge memorial in the south aisle. Clenche was High Sheriff of Suffolk, but is more famous, and more notorious, for being the judge who sentenced Saint Margaret Clitherow to death.
In 1586, Margaret Clitherow, the middle-class wife of a York butcher, was accused of treason against the state. This was a catch-all charge designed to root out Catholicism; she was told, as all martyrs of the time were, that the charges would be dropped if she renounced Catholicism, and conformed to the Anglican church. This she refused to do, and also refused to enter a plea, saying that "having made no offence, I need no trial". Failure to make a plea was a capital crime in itself, of course, and Clenche's sentence was that you shall return to the place from whence you came, and in the lower part of the prison be stripped naked, laid down upon the ground, and so much weight laid upon you as you are able to bear, and thus you shall continue for three days; the third day you shall have a sharp stone laid under your back, and your hands and feet shall be tied to posts that, more weight being laid upon you, you may be pressed to death.
Popular Catholic martyrology has it that Clitherow's only problem with her sentence was the bit about being stripped naked; the night before she was crushed, she supposedly made a shift to wear. This was not allowed her, but it was placed over the lower part of her body to preserve her modesty from the paying spectators. The final sentence was carried out on the 25th of March 1586. Brennan's Martyrs of the English Reformation recalls that a stone the size of a man's fist was placed under her back, her arms were stretched out and tied with cords provided; a door was placed upon her, and stones piled upon it by some beggars hired for the purpose. Her last words were 'Jesu have mercy upon me!' and when her chest was crushed her ribs protruded, and she was left in this postion for six hours.
The body was thrown on a dunghill on the outskirts of the city, but was rescued after six weeks by local Catholics, who found it 'free of putrefaction'. In May 1970 she was canonised as one of the martyrs of England and Wales by Pope Paul VI. There are images of her at Holy Family church in Kesgrave, a few miles off, and at Our Lady Star of the Sea in Wells in Norfolk, and the story of her martyrdom can be seen in stained glass just across the border at the church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs in Cambridge.
recording my songs with my sweet Larrivee guitar in my little home studio. I guess this was a sad, introspective song.
Margarita
Proyecto: Fluye
“Fluye” es un proyecto de investigación en desarrollo donde capto los momentos frágiles de las personas más cercanas a mí, donde sus historias personales se desvelan frente a mi cámara. Trata sobre la aceptación de uno mismo, ya que llorar frente a alguien sigue siendo una debilidad y también un tabú. Me parece interesante trabajar profundizando en este concepto, esa primera reacción, en la que la gente se esconde en el momento del llanto, cambiando su expresión facial y corporal. El tiempo y las circunstancias lo moldean de forma natural por lo que, como proyecto en desarrollo, no tiene un final cerrado sino que está en contínua evolución.
Comienzo: 2016