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from riverside to templeside
beyond Yaowarat
every move matters
Visiting Bangkok’s Chinatown for the first time on foot and all by myself felt like going on an exciting first date—thrilling and full of anticipation. Once I arrived at Wat Mangkon station, I felt free, ready to explore the jam-packed streets of Yaowarat and its quiet back alleys. As I wandered at my own pace, every moment felt special because I didn’t know what to expect. The element of surprise was what excited me the most. I ventured into hidden alleys, searching for the unexpected. Every corner offered something new. My eyes wandered eagerly, drawn to anything out of the ordinary.
For those who have never been to Bangkok’s Chinatown, words and photos can never fully capture the immense experience of exploring Yaowarat. The real energy, the excitement, and the vibrant chaos can only be felt by being there.
By the end of the day, I knew I fell in love. I held my camera one last time before gently tucking her away into my backpack, as if saying goodbye to a dear companion and my date for today.
I know I will be back—again and again—to relive the excitement. If there was something I missed this time—a lost contact, a missed connection, an old fashioned tea house, a relaxing coffee bar, a photo spot and my inspiration —the second time around will be even better than the first.
I believe that this was an exhibition of the 2015 Design Matters awards for building design.
Ricoh GR | Lightroom 4.4
Here are a couple of Black Lives Matter murals in downtown Raleigh that were created after the death of George Floyd. These can be found on South Wilmington Street in Raleigh, NC.
treasuresoftraveling.com/black-lives-matter-murals-raleigh/
#TreasuresOfTraveling #NorthCarolina #NC #CityOfOaks #Raleigh #CityOfRaleigh #EndRacismNow #BlackLivesMatter #BLM #Mural #ArtWork #StreetArt #Art #Paintings #RDU #TravelNC #TravelRaleigh #WallMurals #WorldTraveler #TravelBlogger #TravelPhotography #GlobeTrotter #PassportStamps #TravelTheWorld #TourThePlanet #TheGlobeWanderer #TravelGram #Wanderlust #GuysWhoTravel #GayTraveler
A community member holds a sign reading "Black Lives Matter" with George Floyd's name and heart symbols, after he was killed by a Minneapolis Police officer.
This weekend was set aside for the pursuit of ambition. I decided it perfectly plausible that I can change my entire life by sending out a few beautifully and wittily worded emails to choice and influential recipients in the art and literature worlds. They will see a ‘Flickr of something’ in me and hurriedly write back, begging for a meeting. So, I set about finding said influential recipients….. and I didn’t get much further.
During these, so called ‘weekends of ambition’ the first thing to do is to keep the Writers & Artists Yearbook 2010 firmly closed.
After half an hour leafing through it I had decided that it was probably simpler to have the creative part of my brain lobotomised so that I no longer feel any artistic yearnings. The chapter about the best lobotomy surgeon to consult is conveniently at the back of the book after you have looked through the rest and become thoroughly despondent.
The submission parameters are terrifying:
“Non-fiction German women’s issues only”
“Cricket themed poetry only, submit only via handwritten cricket pads”
“True stories of abused childhoods and violent erotica only, no cookbooks”
“Work must be printed, bound in hardback with dust jacket, already published and with a booker prize imminent.”
I hold the Sunday papers largely responsible for my extreme frustration; they feed me hope over my muesli. There will be, without fail two or three articles in the magazines telling you about an artist/singer/writer’s path to success. I always pore over this kind of article as though I am reading a treasure map, ‘Where is it, where is it?’ No, not the ‘X marks the spot’ but the oh so precious and only important bit where they tell you exactly how they made the transition from sitting in the corner of a greasy spoon ‘being creative and wishing’ to being signed up with some hot shot publisher, agent or gallery.
Guardian Weekend just the other day told of Carmen Herrera, an artist who became a success at the age of 94. We hear how she found her artistic direction, how her work was rejected from countless galleries, how she painted every day for hours, blah, blah, blah, cut to the chase….
‘After those first paintings were bought in 2004, word spread quickly and other pieces were sold. I was in shock for days. Now I have pieces in collections all over the world.’
Oh for god’s sake! Where was this work on display? I thought you said no one would show it. Who bought the pieces? How did word spread? Did you have an agent? How did you get an agent?! What the f**K?!!!!
So after burning The Writers and Artists Yearbook 2010, punching the bed 50 times and failing to send a single email to anybody of any importance I decided instead to go out.
Don’t whatever you do go into a branch of Hollister on one of your down days.
Remember that feeling at school when the popular, attractive kids made you feel like you had intruded on their private members club and tainted it with ugliness when you entered the common room? Want to relive it? Go to Hollister.
The California originated store’s signature interior look is ‘darkness’ and the desired atmosphere; a feeling of unwelcome intrusion on some kind of frat party.
I manage to get in without bashing my shins on the invisible vintage furniture but fail to avoid breaking through the middle of a gaggle of plaid shirted, pouty lipped girls and boys all busily flirting – the main part of their job description.
In fact this ploy works, they simultaneously intimidate whilst creating envy and longing in the oh so plain and uninteresting clientele. We all wish we could be in a world where the next opportunity to flirt by the denim cut offs is all that matters, and because of that feeling we buy 10 pairs of denim cut offs, convinced that they must be infused with this superficial magic.
Their cunning low light ploy is obvious, if you moan about the fact that you can’t see anything then you are too old to be in there. Similar to the blindfolding of racehorses as they go into the stalls it is also less stressful to fork out 50 quid on a t shirt if you can’t actually see it. I’m not sure why they actually have changing rooms as I could get changed in the corner of the shop without anyone seeing me and the only way I was actually able to judge how I looked when I did finally get into the equally dim changing room was by the disdainful sneer of the girl manning it. That must mean these jeans look bloody amazing! I’m having them!
I imagine a sight to behold at the end of the day when the shop shuts. 50 part-time models stagger out of the front doors blinking like pit ponies. They stumble home blue toed in flip flops with white sticks clacking, a long line, each holding onto the pubic mound surfing waistband of the model in front.
Show: Voltapagina - Circo Patuf
She emerges from the dark. Unseen until the very last moment. She moves with delicacy. She faces her new challenges with the innocent curiosity of a sweet child. She’s dragging an old trunk. Her baggage is heavy, but precious. She can’t read the incomprehensible instructions to inflate a huge balloon, but she is determined to succeed and she does so with a pure attitude. No matter what.
Even if she was under care, Mason Gardner's failure to guarantee the safety of his sister sent him on a downward spiral further. Plus his family wasn’t enough to be trusted, when most of them only cared about money and luxurious lifestyles. But Yvette mattered to him no matter what, she was his anchor, and so was him to hers. The sibling bond remained strong, to say the least.
He had multiple issues with the agency his mentor worked for—-and recently started hitting him hard. With the occurring attacks, Gardner couldn’t stop thinking how the public would question him. The combined weight of everything must have sped up his incurable condition, as so he thought, from the big stress.
It all started when a Paladin agent went out on a hunt, daringly, to take down the ES but got captured in the process. Nearly two weeks he endured torture and suffered most before finally breaking his spirit on the third. Then he spilled his guts and was eventually killed. Right in a slaughterhouse in Guatemala.
North eventually knew the secrets and used it to his own advantage. Blowing up bases....hitting the list....lots of actions causes dealt a big blow to the agency itself. The board was embarrassed and cut off all ties with many of their allies in case of whistleblowing and being doublecrossed. It would be a PR nightmare, risking their reputation going down a sinkhole.
Gardner feared it more every day the feeling came by.
***
As the agents silently conversed with one another, the more they went deeper into the compound. Wreckage contained tons of damaged electronics and the floor was muddy with water. Files were spread everywhere. It looked to them as if an abandoned asylum had come to life.
Jesse: “So that’s how it started. From that very moment a tip was passed....we should be lucky they never found us.”
Harry: “Nobody knows if there’s trackers around even with our tech. It’s surveillance we’re talking about.”
Gary: “Apparently so.....it killed a couple of my friends already. They did it.”
Jesse: “You tried to save them didn’t you?”
Gary: “Maybe.....maybe the chi could”
Harry: “But it doesn’t work every time.”
Gary: “It may not all the time, but at least it's under my control. Having these powers paved me a new life to improve after I started meditating.”
Jesse: “What if there’s corpses down here? Can you feel the aura throughout?”
Gary: “Maybe....more or less. I need to tap in and see.”
Even if flashlights could be used, it wouldn’t fare well in the deep darkness. Then Jesse decided to illuminate the environment up with a spark of electricity, enough to get them through securing the area long enough for Gary to meditate.
15 minutes passed as the walked further, and scans didn’t prove much evidence around. It was far beyond destroyed. Nothing but littered by a couple more dead, rotting bodies. Files proved useless.....until Harry discovered something.
Harry: “I think this is interesting. This corpse.....looks really familiar. Gary, do a retinal scan for real.”
Gary: “Hmm....I sense no heartbeat. Yet it’s somehow twitching. Unless they’ve got rodents lurking around somewhere.”
Jesse: “Hold on.....you’re telling me this is a reanimated corpse? At least it’s not the lower half.”
Harry: “Nah. Look closely. The uniform has a badge of the ES. I’ll send this to the team.”
Gary: “No. wait. Something’s wrong again. Get behind me. I’ll activate my field.”
The three rose their weapons in a defensive position as the ground began to rumble. Right in front it led them to a door. A small one, about the size of the entrapped submarine doors.
Harry: “It’s getting darker. Charge up your powers, gentlemen. I’m going to render my invisibility.”
Jesse: “Copy.”
Gary: “Do your thing. I can try opening it.....hmm.”
Harry: “Shh....”
Jesse: “Lowering frequency. Voices down. Team, you seeing this? I hope you do.”
Gary: “There we go....slowly....my dagger should be able to lock-pick it.”
And it opened. The sight of bleak darkness opened up to the three agents. They went in one by one, slowly and carefully. Unlike the surrounding outside, the room wasn’t filled with the stench and odours, yet it looked as filthy with grease and rusting machinery. It was a room filled with clean files and a few advanced computer. Harry was the first to dig in, scrapping through the documents while Jesse lightened up the room further as Gary kept his dagger and aura in tow.
It took them much time they needed as the images were continuously sent. Then suddenly a flash of a shadow passed by, which Gary witnessed, as his instinct told him to throw a dagger at the wall. The other two looked up in surprise as the unknown shadow started to fire.
Jesse: “Take cover! I’ll see if I can fry this bastard.”
Harry: “I got a clean shot. Not sure if the tables do any good cover but ok.”
Gary: “Use the chairs!”
Harry: *keeps firing*: Hold on....I recognise that mask somehow...I can see it. Isn’t that Knifenight?”
Knifenight: *appears* Yes. You guessed correctly. Knifenight is here. Knifenight is here and would be pleased to end you Ghostforge.”
Harry: “The hell is going on?! How’d you get in here?”
Knifenight: “Knifenight survived the onslaught. Knifenight almost drowned but he found a way.”
Jesse: “Ok, lower your weapons for now....you’re telling me you were in this compound? For how long?”
Knifenight: “Knifenight stayed for 3 weeks. Knifenight can survive on his own. Knifenight needs no food nor water.”
Gary: “Ok....I’ve heard about you as well....you might wanna elaborate on that further.”
The confused trio stared at their enemy as they waited for answers. He eventually started explaining, as he had gone on a mission to deal with some black market dealers in the currently abandoned base. And then it started flooding. People started drowning, including the Spectres, but Knifenight was the lucky one, managing to get out in time, hiding himself in an abandoned room. Despite limited contact to call his boss/hirer, it went to no avail, so he believed, may have intentionally been on purpose to send him to die, condemned without help. Yet he managed to survive on his own....
Jesse: “Ok, I don’t care about your third person act or shit, but I still don’t trust you. You could have laid a trap on us like back then in Tokyo or whatever.”
Harry: “The main question is, why. Did he leave you to die as a sacrificial pawn to get rid of you? Weren’t you always loyal?”
Gary: “The threads in this is too suspicious. You gotta spill because I can see that tongue lying.”
Knifenight: “Ok....ok....Knifenight knows. Knifenight let the cat out of the bag. Because....it was a deal. It went wrong. Knifenight saw them Spectres gun down the dealers. North probably asked them to. I for my life have not witnessed him like this....as brutal and ruthless as he was. And....here, this info might serve critical. Knifenight can only do so many.”
Harry: “Can we trust you with this?”
Knifenight: “Yes. Knifenight is sure. Knifenight isn’t lying. Read more and you’ll see....Knifenight is no longer a part of North’s cabal. So, bye for now.”
***
Jesse: “And then he runs away. Just like that. Seriously, disappearing again without a trace. Not because we let him go, but just quitting in the most ninja way as possible. However, given our shared history....I really doubt it.”
Harry: “But at what cost....is critical to matter?”
Gary: “Nobody knows, but it somehow proved I can sense the good in them. Their aura. No, I’m not joking. I really can. You should try it someday.”
Jesse: “Y’know what? I’m on the verge of my post breakup with the dude....I could tell you more over green tea. This meditation thing sounds like fun.”
Gary: “Mhmm I could tell you about my ex. He was a great guy as well....”
And with that, Harry decided to call his team. They were slowly getting ahead. Maybe a chance to fight back....just maybe.
not Rich...not Poor...not a Preacher, nor a Teacher...not a poet or a prophet... whomever you may be... just Live Life the Best you can...& at the end of the day, you will SEE the only thing that really matters is the LOve in your Heart, and the Kindness & Compassion you shared and Gave Freely to Others ~
No matter who they follow
No matter where they lead
No matter how they judge us
I'll be everyone you need
No matter if the sun don't shine
Or if the skies are blue
No matter what the end is
My life began with you
Boyzone is making me all nostalgic ... their songs take me back to my school days when I'd listen to FM 100's 2-hour long english music based programme every night like crazies. Those were some days!
Beautiful!
Oh and the water splashed look amazing when viewed large :)
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I saw this lady selling colorful balloons,when we were caught in a traffic jam.When she came to know ,she is being clicked and is the center of attention,happily smiled and posed confidently(though not facing the camera)..soon,we had to move on.So missed few more good photographs,but glad to get this one.. :-)
Mural at the Jardins de les Tres Xemeneies, Barcelona.
CATALÀ
Black Lives Matter (BLM) (en català: les vides dels negres són importants) és el nom d'un moviment activista sorgit als Estats Units a les comunitats afroamericanes i que realitza campanyes contra la violència racista exercida vers les persones negres que s'ha anat reproduint durant el mandat del president Barack Obama. BLM organitza regularment protestes entorn de les víctimes que han estat mortes per agents de policia estatunidencs. El grup també es manifesta de manera més general en contra de la brutalitat policial i per qüestions racials viscudes als Estats Units. VIQUIPÈDIA
ENGLISH
Black Lives Matter (BLM) is an organized movement favoring non-violent civil disobedience in protest against alleged incidents of police brutality against Afro-American people.[An organization known simply as "Black Lives Matter" exists as a decentralized network with over 30 chapters worldwide, while a larger Black Lives Matter movement exists consisting of various separate like-minded organizations such as Dream Defenders and Assata's Daughters. The broader movement and its related organizations typically advocate against police violence towards black people, as well as for various other policy changes considered to be related to black liberation.
In 2013, the movement began with the use of the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter on social media after the acquittal of George Zimmerman in the shooting death of African-American teen Trayvon Martin in February 2012. The movement became nationally recognized for street demonstrations following the 2014 deaths of two African Americans: Michael Brown—resulting in protests and unrest in Ferguson, a city near St. Louis—and Eric Garner in New York City.Since the Ferguson protests, participants in the movement have demonstrated against the deaths of numerous other African Americans by police actions and/or while in police custody. In the summer of 2015, Black Lives Matter activists became involved in the 2016 United States presidential election.[10] The originators of the hashtag and call to action, Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi, expanded their project into a national network of over 30 local chapters between 2014 and 2016.[11] The overall Black Lives Matter movement, however, is a decentralized network and has no formal hierarchy. WIKIPEDIA
hand painted.. still dont own an airbrush.. using cans and brushes.
photo credit go's to: www.flickr.com/photos/andreacebukin
"Mind over matter" - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mind_over_matter
check in detail: www.flickr.com/photos/breakone/5239665191/in/photostream/
2010
Every time I walked past Arturo Di Modica (1941-2021)’s Charging Bull at Bowling Green, there were dozens of tourists swarming around the animal’s head to have their picture taken. Some people ignored the bull’s head and concentrated on the other end, usually cradling the taurine family jewels...
Black lives matter.
Artwork ©jackiecrossley
© All rights reserved. This image may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, displayed, posted or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying & recording without my written permission. This image is not authorised for use on your blogs, pinboards, websites or use in any other way. You may not download this image without written permission from me. Thank you.
You’re Not Black – Amy Saunders
I sit with them at lunch
Fried chicken on my plate
I eat with a knife and fork
“You’re not black, if you don’t use your hands to eat”
Yet I know that hands tied up the strange fruit on the trees in the south
The fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop*
I don’t recognise the Caribbean music, or the Afrobeats
I only know of Liszt, Chopin and Ludovico Einaudi
Whose names you’ve probably never heard
“You’re not black, if you don’t know this beat”
Yet, I am familiar with the beat of pounding
Pounding of sugar cane, the whipping of backs
The cries and screams of my ancestors
Ring loud in my head centuries later
So how dare you? How dare you put me down!
Question my ethnicity, I’m still a shade of brown
And I’m sorry if I don’t live up to your ‘black norms’
But I live in a world with segregated dorms
Society crushes me, tells me I’m ugly
But copies my features, they must think it’s funny
I’m not trying to in any way be mean
But I live in a society covered in white sheen
Sorry to Bother You, but I should Get Out
’Cause The Hate U Give leaves me with no doubt
That I am not The Help, the help that you need
But the Hidden Figures are clear to see
That I should stop trying to be ‘Black’ and just try to be
Me
*from ‘Strange Fruit’ by Abel Meeropol
A top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2019, Amy Saunders was only 13 years old when she wrote this poem.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and particularly when it comes to art, Well I think this is crap, a big blue cockerel in Trafalgar Square to me, isn't art. It's a very popular piece though and drawers tourists and their cameras (and me...) from near by, maybe I'm not looking at it quite right.
Trafalgar Square, London
Thanks for taking the time to look, your comments are greatly appreciated.
Its all about scale. The Pantheon is huge. This shot was taken from under the portico of the Pantheon and really shows its size.
The square in front of the Pantheon is my absolute favorite. So romantic. When I saw that couple, I knew I had to grab a shot. There was not much light so I went with a severe underexposure and processed the crap out of it.
Really must be seen on black. Go ahead, hit "L". I dare you.
Happy Slider Sunday!
Man was matter, that was Snowden`s secret.
Drop him out the window and he`ll fall.
Set fire to him and he`ll burn.
Bury him and he`ll rot like other kinds of garbage.
The spirit gone, man is garbage.
That was Snowden`s secret.
Ripeness was all.
I`m cold, Snowden said. I`m cold.
There, there, said Yossarian.
There, there.
Joseph Heller
You told me to look much further
You told me to walk much more
You told me that music matters...
(Faithless, "Music Matters")
_________________________
Commissioned photo session for RFL.
Model: Cynthia Ultsch
Background Sim: Creamshop
Reflection Sim: Luck E-motion
Pose: CnS E-motion
The skógafoss impresses with its size and beauty - the water plunges vertically without intermediate 60m over a steep slope, which was once the coastline islands, into the deep. Nothing bothers the free fall of the water
Part of my vintage Japan stationery/printed matter collection; NFS.
I've had both for a long time - finally scanned tonight so I could put in archival storage.
(Prefacing Ninebarrow's live and free internet show this Saturday Feb 11th 2023 19.00 hrs GMT www.ninebarrow.shop/onlineconcerts)
One of the major plus points from the peak Covid years were the sheer number of live music internet shows, often acoustic sets from musicians' own homes. Sometimes they were available for a small fee, sometimes for free and sometimes there was the option of a donation to an artists's chosen charity.
That phenomenon has now translated into a more commercial opportunity but one still worthy of consideration. Being one of our long time favourite bands, we were delighted to discover that Sigur Ros were offering a live two-hour stream from the final show of their 2022 world tour. It was their homecoming to Reykjavík's Laugardalshöllin, Iceland, November 25 2022. The cost of access was just $14.99. Given that concert tickets for such a major band can be incredibly expensive, that seems a decent deal.
The photo above shows Jonsi live on Kim's tv set in Houston. Clips from that show are sparse on YouTube so here is one they made earlier. It is their 7th appearance on the jukebox. This was their 17th and penultimate track from the Reykjavik show
bithbox # 213
But not in the way you would assume. For example, I hadn't touched a camera in months until this moment in time where something so small and seemingly insignificant filled me with a curiosity and passion I thought had long been left to the wayside. So to all my loyal Flickr Friends and lovely contacts: I am back, and hopefully this time to stay. Please take this simple photograph as a sign from me to you. In the next few days I'll be getting back into the swing of things. Forgive me for being a crap contact, I plan to change that. Better days to come <3
Some people seemed to get all sunshine, while others recieve all shadow. Turning that shadow into your inspiration though, is a sure path to new light ...