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Well, I've only had the chance to shoot Picture Lake once so far, but I am itchin' to get back up there sometime soon.
Anyway, this is from September. I revisited it today, because I was pretty unhappy with almost all of my shots that day because of the horrific lens flare I was getting from the circular polarizer I was using. I should have been more careful and/or used a lens hood.
I suppose this is a lesson learned. Anyway, I went through the 60 or so shots I took up there that day, and found this series that was lacking the annoying flare!
The real reason I brought this one back to life is because I had intended to put one of the Shuksan images in the "gallery" I set up today at Boxley's in North Bend, but after printing and framing the 20x30, I was too disgusted with the flare to display it, so I put it back in the car and brought it back home with me...
I do like this one, because if you look closely you can see a dragon fly =)
Clicked on "On This Day" on my Facebook this morning and up popped a photo taken down at Ballymorran, just outside Killinchy. This was one of several shots taken to ensure my camera was still in working order, as whilst stepping from the roadside down onto the shore, I slipped and fell on the rocks. To use the local vernacular, I went down like a "three fut ruler"
Camera went one way, I went another, filter into the water and a badly staved wrist.....or so I thought!! My first thought of course was never mind my wrist......"Is my camera broken?"
A few painful test shots confirmed it was ok but I now had a wrist like the Elephant Mans. I tried to soldier on but couldn't, so I drove home......how I did, I have no idea? I took some painkillers and anti inflammatories and carried on regardless. Thank goodness I had the sense to take my wedding ring off though as, next morning my hand was twice the size it was before!!! I had broken/crushed the end of one of the bones nearest my wrist and spent the next six weeks in plaster. A painful lesson indeed :)
Harriet teaches piano lessons to neighborhood children each Monday afternoon. Grammie comes over to care for the children so she can focus on her students. Today, she is teaching Greta for the first time. She is showing Greta how to hold her fingers.
Just found this piano at a garage sale for 0.75. It is a music box from the early 1970s. I don't have a stool, so I used this end table for now. I'll make a proper long bench sometime.
Vintage Caco Dolls
Schelich dog
In my 1:12 recently renovated dollhouse
Piano - vintage music box
The same lessons that led to the development of the M-72AB Zastava Zmey were applied to some of the JNA's other armored vehicles. That is to say, the omnipresence of incredibly mature anti-tank munitions and countermeasures left many of Yugoslavia's vehicles exposed to lethal threats during the Second Eastern European War. Indeed, despite what many contemporaneous public reports stated, this rebuke of Yugoslavia's armored forces was felt most heavily among those that rode and served in the M-81A Ipabogs. Rather than being designed for sustained confined warfare, the Ipabog was meant to ambush and overwhelm. This discrepancy in modus operandi would come to haunt the JNA during the war's peak.
To rectify these concerns, the Ministry of Defense once again turned to Zastava Arms (hence the new designation) to create a suite of applique for the M-81 series. Many of the improvements and additions are simply commonsense items: explosive reactive armor, a dozer blade, hardened underbelly, slat armor, and an active protection system. Although many of these add-ons obviously improve the overall protection of the vehicle writ large, particular emphasis was paid to the troop bay in the rear--if the dismounts can arrive in good health, then they can offer 360-degree protection for their respective vehicles. Whether or not this idea translates to reality has yet to be seen. Indeed, it appears that NATO is doing its utmost to see that Belgrade never has a chance to use its new toys. Still, that hasn't stopped the Balkan nation from stirring up trouble in the past, so the future might be bathed in red as well.
Belated joint upload with Evan's HQ-7C SHORAD and Brian's Boeing "Shabh" Multirole Fighter.
Had my first lesson today. It was fun. It still remains to be seen if I have any apptitude for this but it will be fun learning. :) Hope you are having a great weekend! We got a little bit of RAIN today! So exciting! (First since June!)
{on my last bit of wedding photo editing!! I *have* to finish it this weekend!}
I went out to take this image with my Fuji X-S10 and learnt a valuable lesson. I forgot to disable IBIS so the image was quite blurry and didn't turn out expected. The lighting was amazing though so I couldn't help but share it anyway!
You can find me at the locations below:
The planalto (beija-flor-de-rabo acanelado) hermit (Phaethornis pretrei) is a species of bird in the Trochilidae family, the hummingbirds. Registro em Pedreguho-SP.
Lesson ONE
Don't try too hard, brush your hair, dab a spot of perfume here and there!
Then fall asleep and dream of the girl you are :-)
Had a makeup lesson while back love how the look turn out unfortunately was no time match it with nice outfits
Such a patient puppy. The girls are constantly messing with him.
This morning they were trying to make him sit and watch Calilou.
I learnt a valuable lesson the other day when I did the photoshoo
Off all the girls and women only one was what we would call pretty. a young Japanese girl who was painfully shy.
One a Russian girl had a great smile but you wouldn't have looked at her twice in the street. an older lady of 50 years who was big but had gorgeous eyes and two average girls.
I watched as each was transformed into a beautiful woman with nothing more than a few flowers in their hair and crown atop their heads, They really did look different and they came alive. The Russian girl looked by far the prettiest.
The lesson I learnt is simple and that is we are all Beautiful and pretty it just takes a special someone to discover our beauty,
In this photo I am just the girl next door in some of my others I become a princess.
And that leads me to my next photo and short story.
Well I adore you all. After I found out about the emails sent to Veronica I made a call. She stated she has know idea what this is all about and that the Gardens are so very sorry for this...her exact words were THE MORE THE MERRIER! She said we are all so welcome to come and that if there were any problems what so ever to ask for the manager on duty and tell him that her and Josh Ok"d the day for us. Now my dear flickr friends What say you? Are we on for next Sunday at the Gardens? By the way she did ask that we not have tripods in the conservatory because of the small pathways. Other than that the day looks right now according to the weather reports to be 56 degrees and SUNNY!
Lesson learned...Ya gotta have friends!
What's art about if it isn't about learning something? Well I learnt something. Several things actually. Will I use what I've learnt to grow and become wiser? That seems unlikely. So what did I learn?
1) Ice is very cold.
2) Icy water feels even colder.
3) Even kneeling on ice might not spread your weight enough to prevent it cracking.
4) Don't ever admit to doing something stupid. Especially not on the internet. You'll never know who might read it.
I've resigned myself to the fact that I won't ever feel confident enough in my creativity to know what it is I will make ahead of time, and I won't know how, whatever it is, will turn out. It was never an issue when noone ever saw what I make but now, a little self doubt lurks in the back of my mind, that I must make something interesting otherwise I shouldn't have bothered. Often, as I wander around some wild place somewhere (no not a bar in Blackpool on a Saturday night), I am thinking about future land art projects and the potential of different places. But always lurking there is the thought that it better be good when I get round to doing it.
On the face of it, this voice at the back of the room would seem to be a help, always encouraging me to try harder. But the weird thing is, this voice actually seems to be a hindrance. There is a subtle but important difference between "it better be good" and "I wonder if it'll be any good?"
When I listen to those words it seems to be an extra burden, a burden that makes it harder to tap into any creativity. I have no idea what creativity actually is, where it lives or how it operates. But what I do know is that you can plug into it directly if you would just relax and go with the flow. A sense of expectation of how something should be, how it ought to be, if only you tried hard enough is not where it's at. I think this is what I love about land art. As I start, the distractions, the so called "encouraging" voices just fade away and all that matters is the moment. And when enough moments join together, I often end up exactly where I wanted to be had I been thinking about it in the first place. I've said it before but it seems it is a hard lesson to learn. It's about the doing. The thinking, the planning, the expectations. None of this really helps.
So I set off, the frost crunching under my feet and doubting/encouraging voices in my head struggling to help me think of what I could do. I went to a small pool of dark water and tried to chop out some ice. Fun though that was, it didn't inspire me, so I continued to trudge up the hill. On the slopes either side of me, camo jacketed plonkers with shotguns and dogs attempted to shoot, stupid and inbred pheasants. A fitting challenge for the Saturday shotgun warriors. We haven't quite gone to the lengths of fencing in animals for rich (and fat) obnoxious clients to shoot but it isn't far off.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not hypocritical enough to suggest that shooting is completely wrong. I could only occupy the moral highground if I didn't eat industrially farmed animals and didn't ignore the fact that I couldn't kill, what I eat, myself. But I do wonder at the mentality of people who shoot animals for a hobby, as a way to relax, to let off steam on a Saturday morning. Does it make you feel manly to outwit a pheasant with a bunch of beaters, dogs and high powered weaponry? Is it simply target practice and honing a skill?
I always wonder whether they have something missing in their lives and their neuroses drive them to show off, inaudibly shouting "look at me, look at me, LOOK AT ME! I'm really, really important! I demand your attention!" Because what seems to be common amongst this activities is noise. Lots of it and the seemingly willfull need to pee off as many people as possible. Especially people who like peace and quiet!
How many examples can you think of? Here's a few for starters: riding big, powerful motorbikes around country lanes in the summer, riding jet skis across lakes and off shore, off roading on green lanes and shooting things for fun. Why oh why do all these things have to be so loud? And why do you have to do them in beautiful and quiet places and spoil the peace and quiet for so many others? Are you so lacking in empathy that you have no idea how you are spoiling it for everyone else? Or do you have a pathological need to take over places and claim them as yours to make up for your inadaquecies? I think this is one of the biggest splits in our species. The sensitive and the not sensitive. The noisy and the quiet. The considerate and inconsiderate.
So the soundtrack to my sculpturing went like this "hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" As the beaters flushed the doomed birds from the undergrowth and "KABOOM! KABOOM!" as another pheasant bit the dust. I expect that if I ever go mad that that will be the soundtrack to my insanity too. I wanted to stand on a rock and shout out "shut the hell up you noisy idiots!" to try and get rid of my frustrated feeling. But I don't think they were going to see the error of their ways so I went back to what I was doing with the frustrated feeling still present.
So what was a I doing I hear you ask?
A bank of fog was sliding in from the south, leaving the tips of the mountains poking through the sea of moisture. Unusually for an inversion, a layer of cloud lay above us too (me and the mountains) and gradually the temperature began to warm.
On another small dark pool I begun to lay out sections of frosted bracken, to make a pattern on the ice. When I leant back I noticed I had left hand prints where my body heat had melted the surface and I liked them and decided to do something along those lines instead. On all fours, I kneeled on the ice, positioning my hands to make prints in the surface, when suddenly cracks spread across the surface like fractured glass and I was about to become more acquainted with this medium than I originally planned. I had one of those Wiley Coyote moments like when he runs over the cliff's edge, only to be found pedalling in mid-air. Just for a split second gravity didn't grab me and then all at once the icey water and me, became intimate. I managed to extricate myself after immersing only one leg and fortunately I was wearing two pairs of trousers for warmth and had some spare socks, so pretty quickly I was dry again. I smirked to myself at being such a fool but soon found that the broken ice was fantastically clear and square edged so my foolishness had served a purpose and revealed to me the beauty of this ice.
I took a section and rounded the edges before trying to melt my hand print into it. I could only manage a little at a time before I had to rewarm my hand, so I challenged myself to count to fifty before I would put on a glove to warm up, only to try and melt some more for another count to fifty.
As the handprint begun to form I started to think about how I would be able to photograph it. The imprint was like a ghost, difficult to pin down, like a fleeting image in the corner of your eye. I put the ice back in the water but the image disappeared so I went searching for another way.
I found a slab with thick frost on it, so I melted another handprint onto it and placed the ice on top, in an effort to put a black background behind the imprint. This didn't work either. I then picked some holly berries thinking that I would squish them up and fill in the mould but that was also a failure. And then it dawned on me, bubbles underwater are very bright, especially against the dark, peaty water!
I went back to the little pool and to its twin with the unbroken ice. I put my handprint on top of it, face down so that air would be trapped and then started to ladle (I didn't actually use a ladle - who carries around a ladle?!) water from the broken pool onto the ice of the intact one. Soon the effect was working and I had learnt something new about contrast and ice.
After taking some more pictures of it set against the sky, I collected my gear and headed off downhill. The cretins were still shooting at anything that moved and the irritation at the noisy buggers still dwelled in the pit of my stomach.
At the bottom of the hill I sat and watched two Buzzards sitting in adjacent trees, one of which kept calling and flying to the other one, perhaps with spring on her mind. For a few minutes I watched transfixed and thought what magnificent creatures they are. As I set off again towards home I noticed that the feeling in my stomach had gone and a few quiet moments observing the wonder of nature had calmed and comforted me. That is all that is required for peace. An open mind and a moment to fill it. Perhaps the Saturday shotgunners should try it one day. They might actually like it and discover that there is another way.
My mantel this Christmas is most of my decorations....all piled on top of each other....The little tree was a gift from my friend Renee who couldn't stand that I was too lazy to worry with a tree....so I have used it to place gifts around..Every day some precious one comes with Christmas gifts . I am so blessed ! I know you are blessed also, and hope you enjoy basking in love this Christmas time.
It seams I am more passable than I think.
While out shopping in my local town I past the florist who happens to sell a lot of vintage style dress (Yes Janet you know the florist) and in the window was flyer for a tea dance to be held locally. I continued shopping and got my bits I went out for and decided as I liked the idea of a tea dance on the way back to pop into the florist and a ask a question.
Now me being the caring sort of person and worry about people's sensibilities I thought it would be prudent to ask if I would be welcome at such an event my being trans and all.
Well the lady was a bit taken aback saying "of course you would be welcome why ever not?" On explaining a second time she said "Had you not told me dear I would never have known"
Well that shocked me and yeah OK she could have just been saying that bit I feel she was being truthful.
So one happy girl walked out clutching a flyer Hell bent on attending the event.
The lesson learnt is I have to stop telling people I am trans it doesn't matter.
Anthony Asael has been a photographer for 30 years. He has traveled to each one of 192 countries of the world but is currently in Madagascar. Capturing emotions in a photograph is his main goal and he specializes in portraits, although he believes landscapes can portray just as much feeling if taken creatively. Despite having no formal training, his work has been featured in a handful of reputable magazines, including National Geographic. He has also won first place in two photography contests.
Story Behind:
The late morning air was heavy and hot against my skin. My travels had taken me to a small fishing village in Colombia where I had just begun my photography lesson on the theme of freedom. I was curious to find out what the class thought about the subject.
As I was introducing the theme, one of the boys stood up. I saw a spark in his eyes. Something was about to happen. He threw off his shirt and darted out the door. Read more on HumanTheme.com
ALWAYS CHECK YOUR ISO SETTINGS! I had the opportunity to sit down by the water for a bit today, and came back with quite a few shots. Once I opened them in Lightroom, I realized that I had left my ISO settings to 800... resulting in way more grain than I needed.
Luminar2018 helped, but I could have done better.
Sheesh.