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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.
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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"]
A lone figure stands in shallow water near the shore, silhouetted in black and white as they cast a fishing line into the calm expanse. A tree trunk anchors the left side of the frame, and a bush softens the foreground on the right. The water stretches into the distance, smooth and reflective—early morning light, I think, though I was too focused on not tripping over roots to check the time (with me this is a serious concern).
I spotted them mid-cast, perfectly framed by nature’s own composition. They had the kind of quiet focus that made me feel like I was interrupting a sacred ritual… with a camera. I crouched, adjusted, and took the shot just as the line landed, like a whisper across the water. It wasn’t about the fish—it was about the mood. The hush. The way solitude sometimes wears waders and doesn’t care who’s watching.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
Taken at Eagleby Wetlands, Eagleby, Queensland.
Unusually, this Grey Fantail was having a reflective moment when I came along!
They are considered the most restless of Australia’s fantails, almost continually on the move, constantly changing position when perched, with the tail swishing back and forth, fluttering about in the canopy of trees or darting out after flying insects. They seem never to keep still. Despite their fluttering flight, they are nevertheless capable of relatively long-distance movements, with some regularly flying across Bass Strait. Grey Fantails’ movements are particularly complex, with no general rule: birds in each different region have their own individual patterns of movement.
birdlife.org.au
Today was a rainy and foggy morning but that did not stop me from wanting to go out into the forest, it was however just wonderful being outside and feeling the rain on my skin.
A foggy morning hike in the woods is like stepping into another world. The mist wraps around the trees, softening the outlines of the forest and making everything feel quiet and mysterious.
If you are hiking through, maybe the path is barely visible, but you can follow the faint trail markers or just trust the direction you are heading. The fog has a way of making the journey feel more introspective, like you are walking through a living dream. And when you do find a clearing or a view, the transformation is striking—the sudden appearance of distant peaks or sun breaking through can feel magical.
I just want to share some of my RL with you all and wish everyone a happy Monday and week ahead.
Real life is where I spend most of my time now, I am enjoying my time a lot being outside, but I am sure many of you have already noticed that, well at least those of you who are close to me know this.
Anyway....
💖 Huge, huge hugs, Light, peace and love to you all. Have a continued lovely week ahead everyone.
Best wishes and regards to each one of you. Take good care of your self as well as one another, be kind as well as thoughtful towards others.
Lori 💖
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No usar esta imagen sin mi autorización. © Todos los derechos reservados.
Please don't use this image without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
Under a heavy sky, a figure looks out over the horizon, caught between the stillness of the moment and the weight of thought.
A scene that feels cinematic frozen in a quiet, introspective frame.
"Davanti al silenzio"
Sotto un cielo carico di nubi, una figura osserva l’orizzonte, sospesa tra la calma del presente e il peso dei pensieri.
Una scena che sembra tratta da un film ferma in un istante di solitudine e bellezza silenziosa.
"Face au silence"
Sous un ciel chargé, une silhouette contemple l’horizon, comme suspendue entre le calme du présent et le poids des pensées.
Une scène qui pourrait appartenir à un film figée dans un instant de solitude et de beauté discrète.
Soon, i'll go trough an introspective phase, but before it come, i'm posting a picture of my grandma, who helped me to understand some things... :)
Pronto pasaré por una fase introspectiva, pero antes de que llegue, subo una foto de mi abuela, quien me ayudó a entender algunas cosas... :)
Being human is an open house.
Each day, something new walks in -
joy, sorrow, shadows.
Let them stay.
They might be here
to clear a path for the light.
🎵 Alexandra Stréliski - Changing Winds starts around 0:58
the place: Frogmore
I wonder - if sunflowers can be introspective?
Dunno, but some moments they look like they do.
Taken with Helios 44m - 58mm - f2
Happy Thursday, all!
Regno Unito, Cornovaglia, Looe, Estate 2020
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.
The water shimmered with a thousand suns,
and her gaze rested,
like everything was fine.
To memories,
to moments unspoken,
to a presence that never really left.
Samsung NX1 & LZOS Jupiter 9 - 85mm f/2
15 Aperture Blades | Wide Open | Manual Focus | Available Light | Handheld
All Rights Reserved. © Nick Cowling 2017.
Columbia Rd Candid, London 2015
One of my street faves that I was a bit suprised to realise that I'd never posted on this stream.
I don't often associate Northern Mockingbirds with introspection, but with this one looking downward (and inward?), it kind of comes to mind.
A marble figure withdrawing from the world. Her eyes are closed, her head bowed, as if she were disappearing into herself. The tree trunk at the edge is a silent witness. Between stone and nature, between outside and inside—a moment of borderline experience.
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Eine marmorne Figur, die sich der Welt entzieht. Die Augen sind geschlossen, der Kopf ist geneigt, als würde sie in sich selbst verschwinden. Der Baumstamm am Rand ist ein stiller Zeuge. Zwischen Stein und Natur, zwischen Außen und Innen – ein Moment der Grenzerfahrung.
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BORDERLINE ist the topic for 25th - 31th October, Group Our Daily Challenge
Excerpt from the plaque:
Self Portrait (“Yo”), Paris 1901:
This psychologically charged self-portrait is one of four Picasso painted in Paris in 1901, at the age of 19. Here, the artist represents himself as an intense, introspective visionary: he looks directly at the viewer, his head and torso seeming to emerge from the darkness. His agitated brushstrokes create a sense of vibration and emphasize the hypnotic, probing quality of his gaze. Inscribing a declamatory “Yo” (“I”) in the top left-hand corner, Picasso announces the arrival of his newly formed, more accomplished self.
Inspired by this exhibition's retrospective sweep, Sherpa has undertaken a more sustained examination of his Spirits evolution and its parallels to his own experiences. While looking back through is memories, he also broadened his vision, to both better assess his present circumstances and consider his aspirations for the future. This appraisal has, in particular, let the artist to contemplate the changing nature of his relationship to the land and people of his birth and upbringing. The product of this self reflection is a new work: Sherpa's most monumental and introspective painting to date.
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Photographed at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts exhibition, Tsherin Sherpa - Spirits.
I am aware that some of my creations are controversial. I leave the interpretation to the viewer. However, I am open to a discussion.
The mj main-prompt:
the dead pool: a woman in a fogsurrounded by thousands of skulls, in the style of bertil nilsson, calm waters, calming and introspective aesthetic, yasushi nirasawa, naturecore, jamie heiden, cinestill 50d, extreme details, 8k, hyperrealistic, surreal, --ar 3:2 --s 500
I changed the prompt slightly during pan right and pan left.
Upscaling and framing in PS
Clue
In a metaphorical context, "The Dead Pool" could allude to a place, situation, or state characterized by despair, hopelessness, moral decay, or general chaos. It could refer to an environment where life and hope are all but "dead." This expression might be used to describe a bleak or desolate atmosphere or a place where the future appears grim.
In literary works or films, such a title could indicate that the characters are facing severe challenges or dangers and are confronted with extreme difficulties. In this regard, the title "The Dead Pool" serves to prepare readers or viewers for the somber and oppressive nature of the place or plot.
he doesn’t move. the ocean, the breeze, the sailboats — none of it touches him. bent over a glowing screen, with his face in shadow and light behind him, he becomes the emblem of now. he sits like punctuation at the edge of the frame: a full stop at the end of the day, waiting for something that won't return.
She carried the storm inward—
a whisper disguised as calm.
The city blurred behind her,
but memory never does.
ODC: Still Life
She hardly ever slows down long enough to let her picture be taken. I thought for sure she would bolt on me, but she just sat there and posed, and let me shoot away.
Greenish water, high houses bordering a small canal, lonely boat and most of all: overwhelming light! (hndrk) - The mood captured is very ambivalent, with rich colors and well lit first plane whereas the mist in the back brings another dimension, more introspective (jmvnoos) - It has a very sureal quality to it. I think the atmosphere of what looks to be clearing fog really works and then you've framed it in a very sensitive, non-touristy way (comment by Daniel Colvin)
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Hiking through these high mountain meadows, I found myself enveloped in thick fog that transformed the familiar landscape into something otherworldly. Visibility dropped to mere meters, and the pine forest behind emerged and disappeared in waves of mist, creating layers of ghostly silhouettes.
My intention was to capture that peculiar state of mind that fog induces in the mountains - a kind of peaceful disorientation where the world shrinks to what's immediately visible, yet simultaneously expands in imagination. The black and white treatment felt essential to strip away distraction and focus on the essential elements: form, depth, atmosphere, and that haunting quality of trees half-seen through veils of mist.
What drew me to this composition was the trail disappearing into white nothingness, inviting yet uncertain. The foreground pine anchors the scene while the forest behind dissolves into progressively lighter tones, creating a natural gradient from solid form to pure atmosphere. It's the kind of scene that makes you stop walking and simply stand still, listening to the silence, feeling small and reflective.
This image represents those weather conditions most people avoid in the mountains - the foggy, visibility-poor days when summits are invisible. But these are often the moments when landscapes reveal their most intimate, contemplative character, stripping away grandeur to offer something quieter and more personal.
within the striking architecture of the oculus in new york city, a lone figure walks through the interplay of light and shadow on the tiled floor, caught between worlds of clarity and mystery. the sharp lines and dramatic contrast of the space create a delicate balance — a dance between presence and absence, reality and abstraction. as she moves forward, her silhouette merges with the dark shadows, suggesting both purpose and anonymity. the soft transitions of light invite the viewer to ponder: is she stepping into the light or fading into the darkness? a moment of introspection and hidden stories unfolding in one of the city's most iconic spaces.
Image originally generated with DALL-E, then enhanced through upscaling in Leonardo AI and finally refined with Topaz Gigapixel AI.
Photo credit: bdopekarreuche
(Please contact for use, commissions, or duets)
Sometimes the same thing can make you feel ostentatious and introspective. It is hard to know when a creative moment will strike, but when it does, let it happen and get out of the way.
Featuring:
EYES: Kill me Heal me Eyeset from Psycho Pills!
Available @ Psycho Pills Mainstore. Half of the eyes are crosses and half are beautiful reflections that look realistic and combined together with bright colors make a ton of options of things you can do! A very fun and usable set. The dark Kill eyes are a total 'go to' eyeset for me! Some call it my soulless look...and I kinda like that :D
"Kitsune" Dress Antaya!
This mini dress is very sexy and quite sweet. This dress is highly detailed, pretty and well fitted with many color options. the floral accents and cut give it a welcome flair and flirtiness!
Available @ Antaya Mainstore
... #secondlife #secondlifebeauty #secondlifephotography #secondlifefashion
This was passed on to me from my father.. I don't know much about Dr. Weil, but I found this powerful and thought-provoking, and wanted to share it with you.
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Who have I been all this time?
How have I used my gift of a human life?
What do I need to "clear up" or "let go of" in order to be more peaceful?
What gives my life meaning?
For what am I grateful?
What have I learned of truth and how truthfully have I learned to live?
What have I learned of love and how well have I learned to love?
What have I learned about tenderness, vulnerability, and intimacy?
What have I learned about courage, strength, power, and faith?
What have I learned of the human condition and how great is my compassion?
How can I best share what I've learned?
What will give me strength as I die?
If I remembered that my breaths were numbered, what would be my relationship to this breath right now?
--Introspective Questions, Andrew Weil
the afternoon light does not judge. it falls on the counter, on the glass, on his hands. his arms are crossed, a line drawn against the world. the thought he is turning over in his mind is heavy. it has a shape and a weight. outside, the city makes its usual noise. inside, there is only the quiet work of memory.
Taken from my car while stopped at a traffic light. Best seen large by clicking on the photo, or press Z to zoom. Royal York United Church was organized in 1944 when the old Tomlinson church was physically moved from its market garden community to its present location at 851 Royal York Road, south of Bloor Street West, in Etobicoke.
Enjoy your day and thanks for your visits. Explore #394 on May 10, 2016 - thanks
the room was quiet. outside, the city was a distant hum of traffic. but inside, there was only the wooden table and the light that cut through the darkness. he did not speak. there was nothing left to say. the truth had a weight, a physical presence in the air. it sat there, between them, on the polished wood.