View allAll Photos Tagged Monologue
"Hi folks Jasmine,today we're visiting Palm Spring in southern Anza Borrego.It's a beautiful windy day in the low 60's and apparently warmer than anywhere else in Cali.I'm on break now don't I look stately?" Note:On location data the actual Agua Caliente Airstrip is at least 7 miles from here.Flickr location data is sometimes wack.
"Hi folks Jasmine here.This week we visited Santa Ysabel Preserve East in the hills north of Julian Ca.It was sunny and nearly 70 deg.This place sure is greener than the desert,the avg yearly rainfall is about 25 in.But what do I know,I'm a dog not a meteorologist."
"Hi folks Jasmine here again in our summer home the Laguna Mountains.Sure felt like summer as it was pushin 90 deg.We ate lunch in the shade walked around a bit then came home.The trail in the sun was hot and hurt our feetsees."
"Hi folks.Today we hiked part of the Eagle Rock Trail along Canada Verde Creek near Warner Springs. It was sunny in the morning and clouded up in the afternoon ahead of our impending storm which is taking it's time getting here,but I digress. This area is a beautiful riparian area with Cottonwoods,Sycamores,Oaks and Poplars. The little creek is running pretty good and everything made for a pleasant hike today. Temps were in the low 60's just right.Here I'm keeping an eye on Bodey Beach because Daddy named it after me so I have to see who visits it."
"Hi folks Bodey here.Today we visited the San Jacinto Mtns ,something different for a change.I really loved the mountain feel of this area Papa says it reminds him a bit of the High Sierra. It was dry and in the low 80's but man that mountain sun was hot.I must be eating lunch now,til next time.
"Hi folks I'll let Daddy tell ya about it in picture 4. We're back out after about 2 months and I'm in relax mode."
"Hey folks,today we're visiting Los Penasquitos Canyon Preserve San Diego's best wildland park.We're at lunch-break along the creek.Today we had Ham & Turkey for lunch.Woo-hoo."
"Hi folks Zoey here.We're at lunch and I'm about to have some roast biff.We're back in the hills of Julian today,Santa Ysabel east I believe.It;s a lovely day mid 60's and Papa says he's going up the hill after lunch,we'll see about that.By the way is that a large dog I see coming our way?"
"Hi folks today we took 3 hikes in the local area to enjoy springtime while it's still green. This is me at the end of our morning hike in Blue Sky Ecological Preserve. It was mostly on a fire road through the woods and a steep loop trail at the end.It was a lovely day about 80 deg warm in the sun and comfy in the shade.Over and out on to the next hike.
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Credits:
Poses by Fanny Finney
"AP - Toronto 2"
This hand-pulled photogravure print is made with Charbonnel 55981 Black, Warm sepia, and a dash of Sanguine inks on This hand-pulled photogravure print is made with Charbonnel 55981 Black, Warm sepia, and a dash of Sanguine inks on Hahnemühle copperplate paper.
Hand-pulled print by Yoshio Inoue
Limited edition of 5
4x5 inches on a 7.3x7.5 sheet.
Signed numbered and dated by the artist on the lower front.
This work was printed on 3/13/2023
Hand-pulled print by Yoshio Inoue
Limited edition of 5
4x5 inches on an 7.6 x 7.6 sheet.
Matted in 4-ply white rag mat size 11x14
Signed numbered and dated by the artist on the lower front.
This work was printed on 5/29/2023
"Hey folks this week we're at Batiquitos Lagoon in Carlsbad right off the ocean.The weather was a beaut and the trail was cool and didn't hurt our feetsies.Behind me is a glimpse
of this coastal wetland and salt marsh one of the largest left in Southern California.Gonna go eat lunch now.
"Hi folks here I am resting in the spring grass along the California Riding & Hiking Trail between Culp Valley camp and Pena Spring.I'll give you Jasmine for the rest of the monologue I just want to relax and enjoy the cool afternoon.” I haven’t been hiking in this area for at least 10 yrs.
WISHES left on your lips
The mark of their wings.
Regrets fly kites in your eyes.
--Carl Sandburg
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This is Karissa Nabbie, a very talented high school student, performing "Jessie's monologue" from a play written by Marsha Norman titled, 'night, Mother.
Karissa, along with two of my sons, and about two dozen other high school students, performed various monologues, dances and music pieces last Thursday night at their, "A Night of Student Work" show.
It was an impressive array of student driven effort!
"Hi folks Jasmine here,Another fine autumn day in the Santa Ysabel Preserve.It was in the 50's most of the day and made it to the low 60's. See the smug look on my face,we had smoked ham for lunch,yummy. I love my sweater it's warm and covered with leaves and twigs from the forest floor. Gotta go now and wait for a sip of beer,"
"Hi folks, my 1st monologue. Today Papa and I returned to Agua Caliente Creek because we liked it so much last week. It was very warm in the upper 80's but dry. Here we are in the creek bed for break and there's a cool breeze blowing. Don't I speak well for a 1 year old? Enjoy our pictures.
"Hi folks this week we're at Pine Valley Creek an all year creek flowing out of the Laguna Mtns.It was a beautiful day and here I am about to cross the creek so we can go to lunch.There's a piece of roast beef with my name on it.This creek is likely at it's lowest level but still flowing,pretty good for Socal.Gotta go I'm hungry.
"Hey folks Jasmine here.I'm tied up for the moment because I was chasing squirrels and Papa says there's coyotes around.Today we're at Table Rock off the Ellie Lane trail between Poway and Ramona.I'm looking at the Pacific Ocean about 30mi away.Table Rock is also in the photo.We're about 2200 ft here.Gotta go lunchtime calls.
At Bumbershoot - September 4th, 2010.
Photo by Josh Lovseth.
© www.soundonthesound.com - a seattle music blog
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"I used to have a workman called Simon, you remember him. Once, at threshing time, to show the girls how strong he was, he loaded himself with two sacks of rye, and broke his back. He died soon after. I think I have broken my back also. First I went to school, then to the university, then came the cares of this estate, all my plans--I did not believe what others did; did not marry as others did; I worked passionately, risked everything; no one else, as you know, threw their money away to right and left as I did. So I heaped the burdens on my back, and it broke. We are all heroes at twenty, ready to attack anything, to do everything, and at thirty are worn-out, useless men. Only a man equally miserable and suffering, as Paul is, could love or esteem me now. Good God! How I loathe myself! How bitterly I hate my voice, my hands, my thoughts, these clothes, each step I take! How ridiculous it is, how disgusting! Less than a year ago I was healthy and strong, full of pride and energy and enthusiasm. I worked with these hands here, and my words could move the dullest man to tears. I could weep with sorrow, and grow indignant at the sight of wrong. I could feel the glow of inspiration, and understand the beauty and romance of the silent nights which I used to watch through from evening until dawn, sitting at my work-table, and giving my soul up to dreams. I believed in a bright future then, and looked into it as trustfully as a child looks into its mothers eyes. And now ... oh, I am tired and without hope; I spend my days and nights in idleness; I have no control over my feet and brain. My estate is ruined, my woods are falling under the blows of the axe. And what can I think of my treatment of Sarah? I promised her love and happiness forever; I opened her eyes to the promise of a future such as she had never dreamed of. She believed me, and though for five years I have seen her sinking under the weight of her sacrifices to me, and losing her strength in her struggles with her conscience, God knows she has never given me one angry look, or uttered one word of reproach. What is the result? That I don't love her! She is suffering; her days are numbered; yet I fly like a contemptible coward from her white face, her sunken chest, her pleading eyes. What is the matter with me? I can't understand it. The easiest way out would be a bullet through the head!"
IVANOV - A monologue from the play by Anton Chekhov