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WELL. it appears that i made a pretty big mistake. with all my burrs on sticks and eyes in the sun pictures i forgot to name one my day 361, thus throwing everything else off. OH NOES!
i've fixed it now (361), making this 364, in turn once again making thursday the rightfully final 365 day. which means i have to get everything done faster so i can get my final shot done today. CRIKEY!
i also have a little game planned. FUN!
alright, off to rush things. and complete my pattern of ending paragraphs with an interjection in all-caps. HUZZAH!
364/365
The idea behind the Weapon of Choice Project was to create a visual representation of the emotional damage words can do. World-class professional makeup artists generously donated their time to the project. The artists applied makeup to each participant to simulate an injury, and the hurtful word chosen by the participant was then incorporated.
We chose the name “Weapon of Choice” for this project because, for the abuser, using words to harm is a choice. While listening to the stories from participants who had suffered abuse, we discovered how closely physical abuse followed verbal abuse. Where we found evidence of one, we found evidence of the other. When the abuser chose to inflict harm, verbal abuse was just one of the weapons in the arsenal.
We presented each participant in the Weapon of Choice Project with a list of hurtful words, and we asked them to choose a word that had significance to them (some volunteered words we didn’t think of). At first, they were just words on list. But as each participant chose a word -- the word that would be painted on their body and captured in a photograph -- the words took on much more significance.
The Weapon of Choice Project was not meant to be, exclusively, an anti-bullying campaign. Nonetheless, many of the children who participated in the project had been affected by bullying, and they told us about their experiences. Some of their stories surprised not only our project crew, but also the children’s parents, who in some cases had never heard about the experiences the children recalled. Some of us on the crew came to this project with a “sticks and stones” attitude about bullying, but after this experience, we’ve all come to recognize how hurtful and damaging bullying can really be.
You’ll discover as you explore the photographs in this project that there were very powerful words on our list, yet for the younger children who participated, the word they identified as the worst word, the word they were shy to say aloud -- the word they only dared to whisper -- was “stupid.” This surprised us, and it serves as good lesson that you never know what words may have the most devastating impact on children.
We discovered that much of the verbal abuse directed at women and teen-aged girls was sexual in nature. “Slut” was a word that far too many participants had encountered. “Slut” is more than a hurtful word, it is an accusation. It is meant not just to demean but also to ruin a reputation. Often it is a betrayal of trust. Just as verbal abuse if often closely tied to physical abuse, verbal abuse with sexual connotations can be closely tied to sexual abuse -- ranging from internet revenge porn to sexual extortion to sexual battery. Stories involving this type of verbal abuse were often the most difficult for participants to tell.
All of the participants were made aware of the goals of the project, and many had a personal experiences that contributed to their willingness to give their time and their likeliness to the project. All minors were represented by a legal guardian. These photos are meant for you to share with your social to raise awareness for issues associated with verbal abuse. If you use one of these images in a blog or other online publication, you must provide a link to the hurtwords.com webiste. If you are involved in a non-profit or charity that serves the victims of child abuse, domestic violence, bullying, or any other form of verbal abuse, you may use these images for free (in print or online) if you first contact us for permission and obtain the proper release forms. Members of the press can request a press package which includes high-resolution photos and release forms.
I was photographing the "tree without a house" when the tripod platform slipped. It gave an interesting result that I guess I could have gotten by photoshopping if I knew how.
This photograph has been sitting in my archives since August. While the sky was still a lovely pink when this photo was taken, there wasn't enough light left for my camera to take a good image. I think it was the fourth or fifth taken in about 10 minutes that night. Consequently, the original version is a dark mass with just a hint of the setting sun. Because of the category "A Brilliant Mistake" in the Monthly Scavenger Hunt, I decided to see what I could find languishing in my archives that could be photoshopped into something beautiful.
I think this sunset qualifies.
Min Min light Dajarra Rd. I had the camera set on auto instead of manual, and only took a one second shot not the 15 seconds that I wanted, but the camera took this light in the shy. This area is famous for the Min Min lights (Boulia) but I think this was a disused satellite or meteor entering the atmosphere coming straight towards me. Or is it? You can see the photo I was attempting to take in my photo stream.
Pay day.
Which is good.
So: Dateline Norwich, Norfolk.
I wake at half six, with buses and trucks heading into the city just outside the bedroom window, whatever, I slept well, so messed around online for an hour, had a shower and then went down for breakfast. Dressing first, of course.
I chose the "continental breakfast", of fruit and toast, and two pots of coffee which set me for the day.
I had a number of plans: first was to go to Cantley and the Limpenoe for some churchcrawling, but with the swing bridges at Reedham and Somerleyton closes for maintenance, that meant rail replacememnt buses. THe other choice was to go to Cromer to the church there, have lunch of chips beside the seaside, beside the sea.
But first, a a walk to St Stephen's on Theatre Street, as I had not been there before, and was oepn, apparently.
Despite being the end of October, it was warm and humid, and would exceed 20 degrees in the afternoon. But was cloudy, and there was a chance of rain.
More than a chance as it turned out.
So, after breakfast I set out through Tombland, past The Halls where the beer festival was being held, and fresh supplies were being delivered.
Through the market, up the steps and across from The Forum to Theatre Street where the doors of the church had just been opened. What greeted me was a fine large East Anglian church, but instead of pews or rows of chairs, was tables and chairs all set out to be a cafe.
All churches do their best, I know, but St Stepehens is now a calling point on the etrance to the once new shopping centre, the windows offer a large and bright space, but not very churchy.
I made the mistake of asking a volunteer when it stopped being a church: it's still a church, anf the tables can be quickl replaced with rows of chairs, it seems.
I go round and get shots, but avoiding, as warned, not to get people in my shots. Its a big church, so I managed that pretty well.
Ten minutes later, St Peter Mancroft opened I wanted to snap the east windows as best I could, so with my compact I did my best. A guy sat behind me and tutted loudly as I took shots and when I asked a warden if I could take a shot of a memoral in the chancel. He had the whole church to sit in, but shose to sit behind me, already taking shots, apparently just so he could complain.
So fuck you.
I got my shots, and left, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
Outside rain had began to fall. Falling hard enough not to be pleasant. My plan had been to walk tot he station, but wasn't going to walk in this weather. So, I walked through the market, lingering as rain fell harder, then corssing to Royal Arcade before emerging onto Back of the Inns, and walking into Castle Mall, taking a series of escalators to the top, all the while hoping that by the time I reached the top, rain would have stopped.
It hadn't.
But I did snap the decorative paving marking the source of an ancient spring, then headed down Timber Hill to the Murderers, where I went in and had a pint. And eneded up staying for another and a lunch of nachos.
Last stop was St John Maddermarket, where I retook many shots, but had a long and interesting conversation with the warden about the church and the font found at St John in Folkestone.
I went back to the hotel, lay on the bed for a snooze edit some shots and post them with a description which became the backbone for the previous blog post.
For the evening, I had been invited for dinner at my good friend's, Sarah's.
So at five, I walk up through the City to Pottergate, then along, through the underpass and estate beyond, arriving at her door at just gone six.
Darkness was falling, the street was ankle deep in golden leaves, quite the most fabulous place, really.
We have a drink, chat abut churches, butterflies, orchids and Norwich City, after which we eat: a kind of duck stew, which was hearty and very good. Alnong with that, we su from the bottle of fruity red I had bought on the way to her house.
The evening slipped by, and after walking 15,000 steps, I got a taxi back to the hotel, along fairly deserted roads, dropping me at the door of the hotel, where just inside a wedding reception was nearing its end, back in my room, I put in ear plugs and slept long and deep.
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St Stephen, Norwich
St Stephen is the odd one out of Norwich's big medieval churches. A great sprawling beast, unkempt on its sloping site, it has none of the Perpendicular precision and politeness of St Andrew or St Peter Mancroft, or the repose of the identikit smaller churches whose parishes pack central Norwich like Larkin's squares of wheat. The offset tower, forming what is effectively a three-storey porch at the west end of the north side, is unique among larger medieval churches in East Anglia, and by the time you get to the east end of the north aisle, there is so much below floor level that the aisle is almost two storeys high. The elaborate transept, and the stone facing of clerestory, chancel and tower, give a sense of a building that has been cobbled together, a vast labyrinthine structure out of the pages of Gormenghast, perhaps.
When I first visited St Stephen about twenty years ago I had the devil of a job trying to see inside. Unusually for a large medieval church in a city centre, though not unusually for Norwich I'm afraid, it was hardly ever open. When I did finally enter the building it was to see St Stephen in the dusty last days of its old sleepy incarnation. The church had found itself at one of the entrances of Norwich's new massive identikit shopping mall, the Chapelfield Centre, and its graveyard has become a walkway to the doors. Suddenly, it needed to awaken from its slumber.
Coming back in 2019 I stepped down as before from the street into the great porch, which is long enough for its vaulted ceiling to have two large bosses at its junctions. The first shows the martyrdom of St Stephen, two figures above slamming large stones down onto the unfortunate proto-martyr's head. The other is more curious. A figure on the left wearing a crown or possibly a martyr's laurels holds his cloak, while on the left a man reaches around to pull a woman away from a massive devil standing at the top of a pillar. Because St Stephen is so often paired with St Lawrence, this is generally assumed to be St Lawrence - but doing what? Rescuing a soul from the devil, perhaps?
There was a church here in the 14th century, and the ground plan was probably similar. What we see today externally is almost all the work of the early 16th century, a large late medieval church on the eve of the Reformation. Indeed, there is some evidence that the nave was not finished until the reign of Edward VI, which may explain why they stopped putting angels on the hammerbeam corbels. The curious detailing on the tower is probably the result of a remodelling in the early 17th century. When I'd first been this way I remember that I entered a fairly gloomy interior, but as my eyes became accustomed to the light there was inevitably a comparison with another very late medieval church of broadly similar size, Lavenham in Suffolk, particularly in the tracery of the arcades. There is no break between the nave and chancel, a fine hammerbeam roof stretching away into the distance.
St Stephen had undergone a wholesale restoration by Diocesan architect Richard Phipson in the 1870s. Phipson was not a bad architect, but he tended to observe the letter of medievalism rather than the spirit. In addition, Phipson liked to design for High Church worship, and in the 19th Century St Stephen was very much in the Low Church tradition. But in the first decades of the 21st Century, this church underwent a major reordering, and today is full of light and colour, and devoid of Phipson's dour furnishings. The nave was converted into an activity area, and the west end given kitchens and the like. A new 'Area of Worship' was built into what is now the chancel, a semi-circle of chairs put out to face the screen that hides the sanctuary where the toilets were installed. This reordering was in no small way due to the presence of the Chapelfield shopping centre, for suddenly the church found itself engulfed by crowds scurrying through to the shops. The building is now open every day, glass doors replacing the old wooden ones at the west end, and the west end of the nave has been turned into a café. These two photographs show the view east before and after the 2007 reordering.
This is a good setting for the large range of memorials from the 17th to the 19th centuries that flank the aisle walls, set between the windows and peering out into the light. Mostly they are to local worthies, and it is no surprise that such a central and prominent parish has provided many mayors of the city. The proximity of the hospital meant that this also came to be regarded as the doctors' church, and several of the tombs have medical imagery - snakes and staffs, and the like. The 1812 memorial to Elizabeth Coppen is worthy of note for it is one of only a handful in Norfolk which was made out of artificial Coade stone.
But there are some enticing medieval survivals, and St Stephen's great treasure is its range of brasses. There are no less than nine fine figure brasses, including several pairs. The loveliest is set in a little box under a cover behind the organ. The floor has been raised here, but you can take off the trapdoor and see beneath it a pretty little brass of a lady. Curiously, the inscription tells us that it is Elenor Buttrey, last Prioress of Campsey Ashe Abbey in Suffolk, but I don't think that can be right. The figure looks at least a hundred years earlier (Prioress Buttrey died in 1547, at the start of the ultra-protestant reign of Edward VI) and in addition to the style of her dress, there are two little pilgrims sitting on the ground at her feet, telling their rosaries. It is exquisite, but it would have been anathema to the early Anglicans, and so I think that this inscription and figure did not originally belong together. Other brasses are to members of the Brasyer, Cappe and Mingay families, who provided mayors of Norwich in the 15th and early 16th centuries. The Brasyers are famous in bellringing circles because they owned Norwich's main bell foundry, and produced many East Anglian bells that are still rung today. The figures are set in the sanctuary and at the far west end of the nave.
Phipson set the font at the entrance to the north transept, creating a kind of baptistery, but it has now been returned to the west end of the nave. This is now the setting for some of St Stephen's fine 20th century windows. In the early 1950s, Alfred Wilkinson created a sequence of scenes from the life of Christ that are set here and in the south aisle depicting the nativity, the crucifixion and the resurrection. Wilkinson may also be responsible for the war memorial window, which includes a depiction of Norwich Cathedral. But look up, and see something from a previous civilisation, for the north aisle retains its canopy of honour to a vanished altar that was once here.
There is actually a fair amount of very late medieval glass in the vast east window, including figures of St Christopher and St Anne as well as donors, but it is mostly fragmentary, and mixed in with later continental glass and some 19th century glass. The overall effect is quite pleasing. It was all removed during the war, which is why this window did not suffer the fate of the windows in the aisles and at the west end. The areas enclosed as a meeting room at the east end of the south aisle icludes a royal arms for Henry VIII impaling those of Jane Seymour, his third and favourite wife to whom he was married for just over a year in 1536-7, and who was the mother of Edward VI.
A plaque to Walter Chapman Morgan, a son of the rector and a lieutenant in the 8th Battalion of the Norfolk Regiment, records that he was killed at Delville Wood on 19th July 1916. This was poignant for me, as my own great-grandfather Arthur Page was killed in the same place in the early hours of the following morning. Something to think about as I stepped out into the sunshine of early September. As part of the reordering, the parish planned for most of the gravestones to the west of the church to be leveled and the area to be landscaped, but fortunately Norwich City Council's planning committee rejected this and the gravestones were retained. It is perhaps a mark of how quickly fashions change that surely nobody would think of suggesting such an action today.
Simon Knott, December 2019
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This photo &print was used in my first semester film portfolio. It was a lovely fuck-up on my camera's part. While winding the film to the next exposure or whatever, I'm guessing the reel got stuck &it created this. It actually happened on afew different rolls, but this one was probably my favorite. The two just seem to really flow together.
Now, all the scrathes, those were done on purpose. Because of how poorly I treated my film last semester, it was fairly scratched up. So, another student had suggested to me to scratch the shit out of the negative if I was going to use it. That terrified me. Instead, I scratched up a clear sheet that usually held my prints. I loved the result when it was layed on top of the negative. Unfortunately I tossed the clear puece &wasn't able to duplicate the result again.
But, this one print luckily turned out nearly perfect, even if it was hard to work with.
This is the exact darkroom print.
It browned slightly after being scanned. It is now hidden inside of a portfolio box to prevent further browning. :[[
Irren ist fröschlich - soweit beide damit glücklich sind, darf auch der Baumfrosch auf den "Normalfrosch". Ob der oben schläft oder nur fertig ist, weil......keine Ahnung. Brown Tree Frog auf Common Greenback auf Koh Phangan in Thailand
I realize, there's no compromise
Through lion eyes, I love for (?)
Just wasn't there, even though I care
Did I hurt you back / bad (?), did I make you sad
I know I paid (?), that's why I'm alone today
Just me myself, no mental health
My mistake overtakes
Your love's overgrown my love
My love, my love, my love for you
My love, my love, my love for you
Now I wonder why, until we die
And then upon the praise
Hope Jesus come to kill the man / mourn (?)
I feel again, I love you then
Oceans of time, a cross divine
I found you, I will find you
That is not my time, my time to take
For me ... , my lover's soul (?)
My love, my love, my love for you
My love, my love, my love for you
Til it burnt my soul
Burns my soul
Burns a hole
My love, my love, my love for you
My love, my love, my love for you
"Mistakes" are unintentional exposures with some simple, arbitrary image processing applied, such as "I'm Feeling Lucky" in Picasa. The results are sometimes nice to look at in their own way.
dress: H&Mblazer: made in Vietnambelt: H&Mtights: Ricki'sshoes in photo: Nextshoes in real life: Spring
"Mistakes" are unintentional exposures with some simple, arbitrary image processing applied, such as "I'm Feeling Lucky" in Picasa. The results are sometimes nice to look at in their own way.
"Mistakes" are unintentional exposures with some simple, arbitrary image processing applied, such as "I'm Feeling Lucky" in Picasa. The results are sometimes nice to look at in their own way.
Apparently someone spilled a glass of water on some store signage. In my opinion, sign looked better after the spill. From a store in San Jose.
Yet another of my long exposure mistakes. Got it all wrong so swung the camera around all over the place. I really like the result. Pollock-esque ( some might think Bollock-esque )
'Beautiful Mistake' challange for Flickr Group Roulette.
Today I woke up on the wrong side of my bed and put my clothes on backwards.
The thing I love about this photo is it looks like it's my knees when its actually the dent in the back of my leg!
"Mistakes" are unintentional exposures with some simple, arbitrary image processing applied, such as "I'm Feeling Lucky" in Picasa. The results are sometimes nice to look at in their own way.
I didn't want the light trails in this shot! I had been trying to time this perfectly so that I wouldn't get light trails but a taxi passed at the last second of the shot.
Pix cũ, lần trc' up rùi nhưng lại del, bi h up lại :)
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chán, buồn, thất vọng :) tâm trạng hk ổn định :)
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cmt đi, fav đi :) ai mún chùa thỳ chùa lun đi :)
sắp off rùi :) ai mún nc vs kristy thỳ add nick nka: kristy.kid_stupid :)
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xl~ 1 ngừi :) xl~ rất rất nhìu :) chỉ vì một lí do rất ngốc ngếch mà đã để mất đi 1 tình bạn :)
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i cry :)....
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mp3.zing.vn/bai-hat/De-la-i-mo-t-con-mua-UriBoo-ft-T-monk...