Metaphor and Analogy - **In Title or Description**
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signalling a new direction
For some time now I've struggled to keep up with flickr...
I try to think of ways to be generous and reciprocal
and also meet my own needs to be more playful...
to have more time and energy for making images
and also for making lucid comments ;-)
For now I'm going to try being more flexible...
embrace a little more imperfection :-)
I'll still respond to comments
(this connection brings me happiness )
and I'll enjoy visiting those who leave them :-)
But I'll be more free about timing...
and not respond to every fave.
Tho I'll try to recognise loyal and wordless fave givers
I am, after all, often one myself.
Not an easy change to make.
But something has to give.
So here's to generosity and freedom.
Meet you
at the intersection ;-)
Forth Road Bridge 13 Dec 2015
The FRB is shrouded in all kinds of things - fog, political smokescreens, uncertainty, to name but a few.
Hopefully the bridge really will open again on 04 January 2016. I feel most sorry for the cancer patients having to travel miles extra for daily treatment in Edinburgh.
Please see my other photos of Edinburgh & the Lothians at www.jamespdeans.co.uk/p399603778
No one remembered to put in their original teeth
at the plant nursing home
so they can’t tell the nurses and aides
to turn off Fox news
and they wither like they’ve been
left for an eternity to suffer
for all their long lost sins.
**All poems and photos are copyrighted**
We can express our feelings regarding the world around us either by poetic or by descriptive means. I prefer to express myself metaphorically. Let me stress: metaphorically, not symbolically. A symbol contains within itself a definite meaning, certain intellectual formula, while metaphor is an image. An image possessing the same distinguishing features as the world it represents. An image — as opposed to a symbol — is indefinite in meaning. One cannot speak of the infinite world by applying tools that are definite and finite. We can analyse the formula that constitutes a symbol, while metaphor is a being-within-itself, it's a monomial. It falls apart at any attempt of touching it.
― Andrei Tarkovsky
~ The sky is often used as a metaphor
And I suppose that's because it's so big and expansive
When a long strand of cloud sits just above the horizon
Leaving a strip of clear blue beneath it
It becomes the panorama
It'll turn your head three hundred and sixty degrees,
And the same line follows you round if the land is sufficiently flat
Really, nothing can be compared to it
I am not an acrobat…
I cannot perform these tricks for you
Losing all my balance…
Falling from a wire meant for you ~
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© Copyright by Floriana Thor 2013-2015
A child’s toy and an old bench....childhood and old age.... A visual metaphor? Or maybe just a little boy who got called to lunch and left his trike on the sidewalk!
Unless there is the iPhone icon, all photos were taken with a Nikon or more recently, with a Sony Mirrorless. I ioften import the images to a 12.9 inch iPad for editing.
Au bord d'une route, Iles de Lofoten, Norvège.
Along a road, Lofoten Islands, Norway.
A voir en grand, better in large, click L !
“I'm tired, boss. Tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, or why. Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time. Can you understand?”
John Coffey, “The Green Mile” by Stephen King
The river is one of my favorite metaphors, the symbol of the great flow of Life Itself. The river begins at Source, and returns to Source, unerringly. This happens every single time, without exception. We are no different. — (Jeffrey R. Anderson, The Nature of Things: Navigating Everyday Life with Grace)
By Roger Edwards
MIND CHAINING
Carbon steel transport chain with each individual link welded together visually suggests brain tissue and also acts as a metaphor for a mind that has been suppressed and restrained by a chain of ongoing dementia effects. (Notes by the artist.)
A clump of wild timothy sways languidly along a rural road in the moments before an ominous thunderstorm storm strikes. I’m always in search of borders and boundaries when out with the camera. I love photographing them, and even more standing astride them. This is one of my many odd behavioral traits that defy rational explanation. As a result, attempts to discuss them often sound irrational (if not downright ridiculous). With that risk in mind, I’ll just say I think at some level, boundary lines represent unseen (yet highly palpable) energy fields. That includes boundaries both real and liminal. It relates to creating photos based upon a reaction to how scenes or situations make me feel.
Back in the moment on the old farm road, I’m already pretty charged up about the storm. It’s what brought me to this spot in the first place. And for my money, it’s one of the best visual and emotional boundaries imaginable, standing right along the leading edge of an intense storm. And on the edge of an expansive farm field which creates a visual effect of multiple boundaries within a single frame. In this case newly mown hay casting a wonderfully warm color contrast against the cool, dark sky. And as I walk along, I stumble upon the timothy grass. The stalks look delicate and tranquil as they gently sway in response to the breeze. Their presence made even more prominent by the raging storm looming in the background. It’s one of those scenes that exists only in this moment, and I could think of no better way to illustrate the fury of the storm than to focus on the calm in its path.
I can’t help it, I love to snap gate or stile. Surrounded with all this beauty and rough manmade wooden construction catches my eye every time. It’s got to be physiology, but what, the mind boggles. An invitation to pastures new, a transition, a way through a life barrier. Who knows, all I know, next time my travels encounters one, more often or not I’ll get the camera out. I wouldn’t care after slogging up to this one I didn’t pass through it, something told me to stay on this side of the wall, may be that’s the metaphor I should ponder.
Chosen for its graphic elements—complementary palette, vertical-horizontal contrasts, broken symmetry in reflection, rhythmic dark verticals. Titled as a metaphor of hope for the new year.
An impermanent pond, filled by rainwater, in a pocket of remnant woodland too small to hold a residential lot between the street behind me and the levee ahead. The levee separates two Levee Improvement Districts, each funded by resident taxpayers, both of which pump floodwater into the Brazos River during storms.
12 Jan 21, 6:45 CST. 26mmFFeq. SOOC, only cropped.
A geranium basking in the morning Sun I cannot yet see, entangled in processing artifacts.
On this first day of Spring 2022, we—that is, I—interrupt our usual program with a reminder that we—that is, Sol, Gaia, Humanity—are all connected. We—that is, other people—just don’t always notice. In this 27-image handheld focus stack, I understand the processing artifacts, which only constrain the photographer, not the flower, and so could easily fix them. Maybe that will get posted, in due course.
Heard our revered guide Sir David Attenborough, in his excellent program “Breaking Boundaries”—highly recommended, worth the price of Netflix all by itself if, say, your budget leaves you enough surplus wealth for a camera—use the word “we” twice in the same sentence, leaving the viewer to work out the shifting implied reference. He said words to the effect of, “We—that is, scientists and the aware public—know that our actions are converting Nature from friend to foe, and so we—that is, corporations and a yet-to-be developed plenipotential global governance structure—can fix it.” True enough, as far as it goes. The program was mostly about explaining why people say “We have only a decade to avert the worst of climate change”, which in context seems a challenging schedule.
21 Mar 2022; 11:30 CDT; Provia ++
244;38;5
These two halves / taken together / are at greater distance / from one another / than if left apart.
Assemblage, wood, metal, paper, paint, size (WxHxD) 50x48x11 cm (based upon objets trouvés) (2015)
I'm very fortunate to live in a rural area with easy access to woodlands, meadows, streams, ridge lines, valleys, and crop fields. I derive a great deal of energy and mental stimulation by entering into these spaces. I used to think it was the result of the oxygen released by plants. But it's much more than that. The visuals are quite often stunning, and motivate my creative mind. However I feel the same energy even if I take no photos at all. For me it's all about being immersed into scenes such as this, both literally and emotionally.
Walking through this meadow filled with dead and withered leaves filled me with a sense of life and vitality. Don't ask me to explain the dichotomy. It just is. There's simply as much (or even more) energy here now as there was months ago when this was all lush and green.
In her day-to-day, ahead seems gray, but with her reflexive gaze, creativity comes to life.
I'm just trying my hand at some fine arts photography. Mosquitoes bit me 27 times while taking this picture. She was bit 12 times before we realized that we were being eaten alive. So much anti-itch spray!
I'm fascinated by the many ways the growing season reverses course. Bit by bit, every bit of plant life that emerged and thrived in spring and summer now must die. Some go out in a blaze of vibrant color. Others die a sickly death, punctuated by black spots, discoloration, and a slow shrivel. I love the in-between phase...clinging grimly to life in the face of the inevitable. And even after the cold death of the killing frost, some tenacious plants manage to hang on. Sometimes frozen in an upright state, looking outwardly as if still alive although all life function has ceased. I've got sunflowers out in my garage, dead for years now, but still locked in their life pose. Not sure why I save things like this, but I do enjoy looking at them and appreciate the life-death association they bring to mind whenever I see them. I love shooting bright autumn hues, but more often the most satisfying moments involve the times before and after peak color. And particularly when there is some sort of context or juxtaposition for the transition. I found it here in an old cemetery; quite literally just stumbled upon this miniature scene. A vine had crept up the side of a funerary sculpture over the summer. One shriveled leaf served as a blindfold for the angel. An amazing metaphor for life and death.