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Have you ever thought that as human beings we always tend to spoil all the easy,light and happy feelings just by overthinking?Our life is so small and yet we choose to live our moments on this Earth with thoughts that all they manage to do is make everything complicated and stressful.
Why can't everything just be easy and nothing more?
Why are we so afraid that when something goes well,something awful will come to ruin it?And especially why can't we just understand that when someone loves us/hates us/doesn't care for us/is angry with us or understands us completely is just that,without further explanation?All of us(I am counting myself in it too)have the tend to try and find the answer to all those questions and all we successfuly manage is to turn things around and ruin it ourselves.What if there are no answers and there are just feelings and moments?I think that all we live for is here and it's in our hands to take our decisions.Are we going to continuously wreck everything or just live it 100% ?
(Thank you,for the perfect talk.)
I sit pretty and let the tension do the talking.
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The Look:
Description Section:
Lately I’ve been in my grounded, glowing, and slightly dangerous era — and this look slid right into that mood without asking permission. Green has been calling me, not loudly, just enough to make me listen. The Shannon Set (including the leg warmers) by Xero hugs in all the right places, clean and confident, like I didn’t overthink it… because I didn’t.
I threw on the Tonya coat from Rosary for that quiet contrast — textured, cozy, but still polished enough to feel intentional. It’s the kind of outerwear that makes sitting on stone steps feel editorial instead of accidental. The Ash hair by Angelic stays sleek and smooth, framing my face in a way that feels calm, controlled, and very much on my terms.
Finished it off with Dulce hoops because I’ll always believe earrings should whisper luxury, not shout it. And the Melly heels? Soft straps, steady energy — walking like I’ve already arrived, even when I’m just passing through.
This look isn’t trying to impress. It already knows.
Week 9 - Patterns
& Theme 49/100 - Stripes
I've never been one to fit in only one category, I knew from a very young age that I've never been like the rest and that I will never be. And there was a part of me that loved that difference.
But the other part of me, the one that is compulsively overthinking everything, just wanted to dissapear in the 'normal'.
But now I'm, mostly, in peace with myself.
I don't fit the pattern, not because I don't want to, just because I naturally don't.
I don't fit the pattern and I'm fine with that.
Hard week, I couldn't think what I wanted to do, and everything I could come up with were really complex super conceptual images that I wasn't sure could be read. So I try to stick with the simplest of all the ideas, and well...It's not a masterpiece but I'm sort of fond of it!.
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WOW. So my last photo blew up on Explore and I got 29,400 views in one day, 5,000 alone for the photo. THANK YOU! I'm kind of freaked out and now I'm trying not to overthink or get too restrictive with what I post. So here's a quick follow up ...
There's a point in most of my shoots when I just start trying anything. Sometimes it's because something isn't working, or it's because everything is working and I want to see what else can be found. This was one of those moments when I was just tossing something against the last of the light and seeing what we could make. I overlooked it until today, and thought it was kind of nice.
I had intended for a warm look for this, and decided to see what I could work out with VSCO Film on Lightroom 5, on top of my original vision. I tried the Polaroid 690 Warm filter, then went about adding shadow detail back to it, and finished it in Photoshop CS6.
Strobist: Lumopro LP160 at 1/32 power through a Lastolite Joe McNally Softbox, camera left and very close (for extra softness). I added some of the warmth back in to post, but a little CTO action could have saved me that trouble. The Nikon SB-80DX acting as a rim light is camera left and behind her a good 5-10 feet ... probably at 1/128 power or whatever that low fraction is. (I'm terrible at fractions!!) It did have a CTO gel on the otherwise bare flash. Camera settings were: 1/2500 shutter at f/2.8 on 200 ISO. They key was triggered by a Paul C. Buff Cybersync, and I think my rim light was triggered optically.
Stranger #86 – Valentine
“I’m a student, 1st year of history. I really like studying what came after the second world war. What I’d like to tell my young self? Don’t worry too much, don’t overthink. I’m doing it now, I’m always doing it. My advice to people? Put your fucking mask on. The best memory from my childhood? I was 9, my dad took the day off. He took me to McDonald’s and then to the swimming pool. Do I still have faith in humanity? Not at all. I think two hundred years from now at the most, there’ll be no humans left. Not as we know humanity to be anyway. We’re so clever and so stupid. The craziest thing I’ve done? For my 18th birthday, I got my head shaved. I’d said I’d do it. My friends took me to a hairdresser and that’s how I got my head shaved. I had to cull my mum before going home to warn her. “Mum, I don’t have hair anymore”. Something I think we should do? Stop navel-gazing, do something for others, be kind!”
Thank you very much Valentine!
This picture is #86 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page
This is my 81st submission to the Human Family Group. To view more street portraits and stories visit The Human Family Flickr Group page
“Je suis étudiant en L1 d’histoire. C’est ce qui me passionait particulièrement, ce qui vient après la seconde guerre mondiale. Un conseil que j’aimerais me donner quand j’étais plus jeune? Pas te prendre la tête, là je me prends la tête, je me prends tout le temps la tête. Un conseil aux gens? Mettez votre putain de masque! Le meilleur souvenir de mon enfance? J’avais 9 ans, mon père a pris sa journée. Il m’a emmené au macdo et à la piscine. Est-ce que j’ai encore foi en l’humanité? Plus du tout. Je pense que dans deux cent ans il y aura plus d’êtres humains. On est intelligents et tellement bêtes! Le truc le plus fou que j’ai fait? Pour mes 18 ans, on m’a rasé la tête. J’avais dit que je le ferai un jour. Mes amies m’ont emmené chez un coiffeur. J’ai appelé ma mère avant de rentrer. “Maman j’ai plus de cheveux”. Une chose à essayer pour améliorer les choses? Arrêter de se regarder le nombril. Faire des choses pour les autres. Être gentils!”
Merci beaucoup Valentine!
Cette photo est la #86 dans mon projet 100 strangers. Apprenez-en plus au sujet du projet et visionnez les photos prises par d’autres photographes sur la page Flickr du groupe 100 Strangers
C’est ma 81ème participation au groupe The Human Family. Pour voir plus de portraits de rue et d’histoires, visitez la page Flickr du groupe The Human Family
This creation is the second in my series of bicycles. A 1890s Penny Farthing, leaning against a gas lit lamp post. The scene includes a lace parasol, wicker basket and phonograph. The Penny Farthing was one of the last of its models before "safety" bikes were integrated into society. However Penny Farthings were still used for racing until the 1930s.
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This creation was made specifically for LEGO House in mind. When the team showed interest in exhibiting my LaFrance Streamliner and gave me the dimensions of the LEGO House Master Gallery space, I felt that the LaFrance wasn’t enough. The idea of building a Penny Farthing was in my mind for ages but loads of life things got in the way - I moved to England from Canada and decided to move my collection with me, which easily became overwhelming and disorganized. Once I had it all sorted out, a few months later I decided to move to Scotland so again my collection was all over the place! I finally moved in to my flat in Scotland and built non-stop for 2 weeks after work, and finally installed 'Day Out in Autumn' (along with 'Picnic in the City') on September 26 at LEGO House in Denmark.
This past year I’ve taken a long break from LEGO. Along with moving my life across the world and some personal life mishaps I was overwhelmed by the attention Picnic in the City got and felt the pressure of wanting to be sure my next creations were of the same high standard. This made me overthink a lot and overwhelm myself, so a break from the brick was needed. I'm excited to reveal to you guys my latest creation, and can say as well that my next one is shortly on its way. I truly do miss the community and building and have felt really disconnected this last year, hoping to get back into continuous building again.
Credit to Stefan Kubin for the dome technique that I used for the parasol - his colour choices were too perfect too that I used it for my parasol and need to credit him on being an inspiration.
Big hugs to Iain for doing an amazing job editing my awful photos taken in the most ghetto setup in my small flat. You are a star - TEAM BICYLE!
This picture shows a female avatar having a revenge on another female avatar. And it has nothing to do with what's going on in my Second Life at the moment, so don't overthink it ! ;).
I find this style more witchy than deadly but that coffin was waiting for me there and I REALLY had to do something with that ! For the RL thanatophobic person I am, this shot wasn't that easy. You go like "yes, but do I want to stare at a coffin for minutes as I'm overworking those pics in photoshop ?". Anyways, this look is all but recycling, for once ! It doesn't include so much older items but a lot of group gifts from different stores so you can make yourself fabulous and less expensive at the same time. Isn't that wonderful ? Yes it is !
I am wearing the crop shirt and tank from ISON I showed yesterday in another outfit, this one in a very dark version : shows how versatile SL items can be !
The Revenge outfit has been created using :
Body/Head/Shape :
Body : Legacy (f 1.3)
Head + Piercings : Lelutka Evo Head Fleur 2.5
Custom homemade shape
Skin, Make-up, Hair & Nails :
Skin : PUMEC Nadya RARE 1 January + body skin (
Eyeshadow : Velour Winnie in grey
Lipstick : IDTTY Wild Babe 6
Blush : Essences Blush Contour Middle Peach
Eyebags : Izzie's Eyebags
Smeared mascara : Izzie's smeared mascara
Nose blood : Izzie's bloody nose dark
Scar : Suicidal Unborn Scar #01 tone 7 left (group gift)
Eyes L&R : Suicidal Unborn Nova (group gift)
Tattoo : Mister Razzor Bonnie tattoo 75%
Hair : DOUX Cyanna Hairstyle (Equal 10 2021/01)
Ears : PUMEC Gothic Longing mesh ears (group gift)
Knee wounds : Izzie's Knee Wounds
Outfit & accessories :
Nails : Nylon Outfitters Art Nails - murderer
Glasses : Triggered Witchcraft glasses
Rings : Cultxx Midnight rings (FAMESHED)
Leg warmers : Cultxx Poe (were on sale last weekend !)
Shorts : Asteroidbox Natalia shorts with fishnet & garters (Equal10 2021/01)
Tops : ISON dayami tank & crop shirt in black (Collabor88 2021/01)
Shoes : Ricielli Adira Shoes (I think I found it at Cosmopolitan 2021/01 but have a check !)
NB : My blog is migrating to another platform. Use Flickr until further notice :)
Freya inspired me so much that I am overthinking my doll family.
I don't want to have too many dolls and feel overwhelmed, I want to spoil my most loved ones and Freya is definitely one of them.
So I thought about it and I will probably sell my incoming fairyline sia head with the company face up and my minifee celine head...
I am also a little bit clueless on what to do with my minifee Luka that I have on layaway since Freya gives me a vibe that I planned for my Luka.
Whatever it happens, I hope it will be all good in the end, since now I am bit troubled...
Plagues happen only to people. Animals can suffer from mass infections, of course, but they experience them as one more bad blow from an unpredictable and predatory natural environment. Only people put mental brackets around a phenomenon like the coronavirus pandemic and attempt to give it a name and some historical perspective, some sense of precedence and possibility. The coronavirus, indifferent to individuals, has no creed or moral purpose, but it becomes human when it hits us—neither microscopic nor historic, just the size we are as we experience its effects. As Albert Camus wrote in “The Plague,” the 1947 novel that’s becoming to this disruption what W. H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939” was to the aftermath of 9/11, the microbe has no meaning; we seek to create one in the chaos it brings. The coronavirus has ravaged all of New York City, closing schools, emptying streets and turning stadiums into makeshift hospitals. And data made public by city health officials on Wednesday suggests it is hitting low-income neighborhoods the hardest. The spike glycoproteins give the coronavirus its name. The molecules protrude from the viral envelope like the spikes of a crown. Researchers at the Max Planck Institute of Biophysics in Frankfurt are now analysing the structure of this protein. They hope to identify potential targets for antibodies and inhibitors – an important prerequisite for developing new vaccines and drugs against the SARS CoV-2 virus.The coronavirus needs the spike protein to infect a cell. The protein binds primarily to a receptor called ACE2 on the surface of human cells. The virus can then fuse with the cell membrane and release its genetic material into the cell. The spike protein is not only the sharpest weapon of the virus but also its Achilles’ heel; its exposed position makes it the preferred point of attack for the immune system. Antibodies can recognize the virus by its spike protein, bind to it, and thus mark it as a target for immune cells. However, the virus has another trick up its sleeve. A sugar coat hides the conserved parts of its spike proteins from the immune cells.The Max Planck researchers are therefore analysing the protective sugar shield and the membrane envelope of the virus in addition to the spike protein. They want to go beyond the existing static structures to calculate how the spike proteins move on the surface of the virus and how they change their shape – with a precision down to the size of an atom. During the first month of the outbreak in the city — the epicenter of America’s coronavirus crisis — many of the neighborhoods with the most confirmed virus cases were in areas with the lowest median incomes, the data shows. The biggest hot spots included communities in the South Bronx and western Queens. The data, collected by the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, offers the first snapshot of an outbreak that infected more than 40,000 and killed more than 1,000 in the city in its first month. The increases in flu-related emergency room visits varied widely by neighborhood, with many of the surges occurring among residents of neighborhoods where the typical household income is less than the city median of about $60,000, the data shows.
In Corona, Queens, for example, the median household income is about $48,000, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. That neighborhood is near the Elmhurst Hospital Center, which Mayor Bill de Blasio has cited as the hardest-hit hospital in the city. Doctors in the overwhelmed emergency room there have described the conditions as “apocalyptic.” The coronavirus has spread into virtually every corner of the city, and some wealthier neighborhoods have been overrun with cases, including some parts of Manhattan and Staten Island. But that may be because of the availability of testing in those areas. Nineteen of the 20 neighborhoods with the lowest percentage of positive tests have been in wealthy ZIP codes. The patterns are even more striking when analyzing the data on people who visited the city’s 53 emergency rooms with the “flulike symptoms” that are a hallmark of the coronavirus. Over all, nearly three times as many people with “flulike symptoms” like fever, cough or sore throat visited city emergency rooms this March when compared with the same month in previous years. In the last four years, there were on average 9,250 flu-related visits to emergency rooms in March; this March, the number tripled to about 30,000. These calculations will reveal the tiniest details of the protein structure. But they are extremely complex. “We need the massive computing power of the supercomputers of the Max Planck Society”, explains Gerhard Hummer, Director at the Max Planck Institute of Biophysics. With their dynamic model of the spike protein, the researchers hope to identify binding domains to which antibodies can reliably bind. Hummer and his team also hope to discover binding sites for inhibitors. They plan to compare these with the binding properties of existing drugs with the help of computers and thus identify active ingredients that can block the spike protein. “Of course, repurposing drugs that are already on the market is much faster than finding new active ingredients and testing them in lengthy clinical trials”, says Hummer.
www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/04/01/nyregion/nyc-coron...
The final weekend of semi-ordinary life in New York arrived on Friday the 13th. In the week that followed, New York became a ghost town in a ghost nation on a ghost planet. The gravity and scale of what is happening can overwhelm the details of daily life, in which human beings seek a plateau of normalcy in abnormal times, just as they always have in blitzes and battles. Nobody has any confidence at all about whether we are seeing the first phases of a new normal, the brief calm before a worse storm, or a wise reaction that may allow, not so horribly long from now, for a renewal of common life. Here are some notes on things seen by one walker in the city, and some voices heard among New Yorkers bearing witness, on and off the streets.
It happened slowly and then suddenly. On Monday, March 9th, the spectre of a pandemic in New York was still off on the puzzling horizon. By Friday, it was the dominant fact of life. New Yorkers began to adopt a grim new dance of “social distancing.” On a sparsely peopled 5 train, heading down to Grand Central Terminal on Saturday morning, passengers warily tried to achieve an even, strategic spacing, like chess pieces during an endgame: the rook all the way down here, but threatening the king from the back row. Then, when the doors opened, they got off the train one by one, in single, hesitant file, unlearning in a minute New York habits ingrained over lifetimes, the elbowed rush for the door.In the relatively empty subway cars, one can focus on the human details of the riders. A. J. Liebling, in a piece published in these pages some sixty years ago, recounted the tale of a once famous New York murder, in which the headless torso of a man was found wrapped in oilcloth, floating in the East River. The hero of the tale, as Liebling chose to tell it, was a young reporter for the great New York World, who identified the body by type before anyone else did: he saw that the corpse’s fingertips were wrinkled in a way that characterized “rubbers”—masseurs—in Turkish baths. Only someone whose hands were wet that often would have those fingertips. On the subway, in the street, nearly everyone has rubbers’ hands now, with skin shrivelled from excessive washing.
The New Yorker’s coronavirus news coverage and analysis are free for all readers.
At the other end of the day, in Central Park late at night, the only people out were the ones walking their dogs. Dogs are still allowed to have proximity, if only to other dogs. They can’t be kept from it. The negotiations of proximity—the dogs demanding it, the owners trying to resist it without being actively rude—are newly arrived in the city. Walking home down the almost empty avenues, you could see the same silhouette, repeated: dogs straining toward dogs on long-stretched leashes, held by watchful owners keeping their distance, a nightly choreography of animal need and human caution.
At J.F.K., in Queens, during that strange weekend, people huddled and waited anxiously for the homecoming of family members who had been stranded abroad, with the understanding that homecoming now comes at a cost: arriving passengers have been asked to self-quarantine for two weeks. J.F.K. had been spared some of the nightmarish lines and confusion seen at Dulles, in Washington, and O’Hare, in Chicago, following Donald Trump’s abrupt decision the previous Wednesday (relayed in a garbled announcement) to suspend most travel from Europe. But no one is spared the emotional ambivalence of the moment: every feeling pulled out hard, like an attenuated nerve. Parents are keenly aware that, in bringing their children home to what is meant to be safety, they are bringing them to an increasingly unsafe place.“Barren” was the word that Lisa Cleveland, who lives in New Jersey, used for the normally bustling airport. She spent part of Saturday morning waiting for her teen-age children Zoë and Xander, who had been staying in the Netherlands. Their father is a Dutch citizen. “I’m still trying to understand the risks, but he’s been tracking this for more than two months,” Cleveland said. “He’s that guy.” Getting the kids back to the U.S. before further barriers went up wasn’t easy. “Xander and Zoë—she likes the double dot over her name, otherwise it becomes a Dutch word that rhymes with ‘cow’—were in Amsterdam. We struggled and struggled to find them tickets home. Someone told us that one of the airlines was going to go bankrupt.”
When she saw Zoë and Xander at last, Cleveland said, “it was just such an enormous relief. And more emotion than you can easily imagine. This is the first day I’ve been able to smile in weeks. But now they have to do a mandatory self-quarantine for two weeks.”
Zoë said, “Not that I’m not glad to be home, but I’ll miss school. The mood on the plane was weird—half the plane was wearing masks.” Because safety masks were sold out in Amsterdam, she and her brother decided to wear masks that their parents had bought them out of an abundance of caution. They were 3M respirators, the kind an industrial worker might wear in the presence of toxic aerosols. “I felt people were judging us,” Zoë said. “It’s a crazy mask. No one else on the plane had on such a serious mask.”
Crises take an X-ray of a city’s class structure. After 9/11, it was the Middle Eastern and South Asian taxi-drivers who suddenly became visible, lining their cabs with American flags for fear of being taken for jihadis. Now particular visibility falls on bicycle deliverymen, Mexicans and Indians, the emissaries of Seamless, who modestly shoulder the burden of feeding the middle class. On the East Side, outside a Thai restaurant at 7 p.m. on Saturday, a single deliveryman balanced five bags of food hanging from his handlebars. His livelihood hinges on his getting meals to people who are self-isolating, a luxury he doesn’t have. Although he was grateful for the work, he said, he was a little frightened about his own exposure. Asked how many more sacks he ferries during his shift these days, he shrugged and said at least ten times the usual load.Just as the medical system depends on the lowest paid of the health workers—the orderlies and custodians—the food system, now that restaurants have been limited to takeout and delivery, depends on a whole cadre of men pedalling bicycles. They are literally overburdened, and, that night, this one got off to an unsteady start, like a plane in wartime trying to take off with too large a load of refugees. He glanced up at a high-rise condominium being built on Madison Avenue and Eighty-ninth Street. Construction work continues right through the closures—no letup in the noise and activity, even on the weekend. The workmen, in their puffy vests and hard hats, were side by side, though they didn’t seem particularly worried, or constrained. The exigencies of Manhattan real estate and development are evidently undeterred by the crisis.What’s strange about this energetic construction of more luxury housing is that, in the existing apartment buildings nearby, on the impossibly wealthy blocks of Fifth Avenue, scarcely a light can be seen. Nobody’s home. Most of the truly wealthy have gone, by helicopter or private jet, to the Hamptons or to an island somewhere. There can be something vexing about the thought that those whose wealth relies on the intense, close-ordered entanglement of the city abandon it in its hour of need, or dread, but they do. Still, who would not decamp to a remote island if she had one? “Boccaccio-ing,” someone calls this business of fleeing the city, in honor of the Italian author, who wrote of fleeing Florence during the Black Death, and telling stories with his companions for ten days up in the hillside villas of Fiesole.
In West Harlem, Sam Rivera certainly can’t leave. At a residential facility run by the Fortune Society and known as the Castle, his job is to oversee the rooms and the souls of about eighty-five men and women, almost all released from prison not long ago, some as recently as this month. They come in and out of his office all day, seeking help and solace. “It’s crazy, but the system is still churning,” Rivera said. He is a huge man, with a beaming, steady smile. “They’re still discharging people from Rikers and elsewhere, even as we go through all this. So we have a steady inflow of people coming home, even while we’re trying to lock down the people we already have.”This is Rivera’s second plague. Incarcerated himself when H.I.V./aids hit New York’s state prisons, in the nineteen-eighties, he still remembers the shock of working in the isolated wards where those who fell ill with the disease were sequestered: “Everyone was so frightened that they pretty much put on a hazmat suit to go into those places. Except me.” His experience led him, once he was out of prison, to join the aids-care movement, where he met and worked with Anthony Fauci, the current director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases. Now that Rivera is responsible for the residents of the Castle, he thinks hard about what to do. His memories of the aids epidemic are strong, and they give an oddly positive cast to his take on today’s crisis.
“We’ve stockpiled three weeks’ worth of food, and we’re sending staff to screen visitors at Rikers,” he said. (City jails have since suspended in-person visits.) “But it’s not a deadly virus for most people—it’s not as deadly as aids. I think we’ll get to the point where the next announcement will have to be, What are we doing for people who have to manage the elders and those with compromised immune systems? I’m coping two ways. I’m not overthinking it. I expect to get it one day. I’ll feel sick, and I’ll manage it, I’ll come through it, and my body will build immunities to it. And that will be a blessing.”
Despite his brio in the face of the virus, Rivera worries about the vulnerable residents in his charge. “We have a number of people in the Castle who are living with H.I.V., and we’re really monitoring where and how they are,” he said. “The problem is that they don’t like following up. Most of them have had bad experiences with the medical system, or sometimes no experience with it. But, if anyone has flu-like symptoms, then we are able to get a test, right now, at Columbia Presbyterian, which is great. All we can do is watch and move forward, day by day.”
Panic-buying has been in evidence all over town, if unevenly executed. Many chain supermarkets and food stores are stripped bare of groceries, in a way that calls to mind the days just after 9/11. Back then, people gathered “Armageddon baskets,” filled with expensive things—steak and Perrier. Now they assemble survival kits. Toilet paper and canned beans are treasured. (There is no chance, the grocers assure the city, of running out of either.) Still, there’s a pattern to the emptying of the supermarkets. Every potato, every carrot, every onion in a West Side Citarella is gone, as is every package of pasta and every jar of tomatoes in an uptown Whole Foods. Yet many of the less tony supermarkets, the nearby Key Foods and Gristedes, have remained well stocked and serene throughout the rush.
“You realize what this means?” a college student who grew up in New York said, about the depredations of upscale shoppers. “It means they believe that it’s every man for himself. They don’t really believe in community or that people will or can share. Their instinct, despite living in one of the more affluent spots in the world, is that they’re on their own.” The plague, as Camus insisted, exposes existing fractures in societies, in class structure and individual character; under stress, we see who we really are. The secession of the very rich, the isolation of the well-off, the degradation of social capital by inequality: these truths become sharply self-evident now.
The current crisis is, in some respects, the mirror image of the post-9/11 moment. That turned out to be a time of retrospective anxiety about a tragedy unforeseen. The anticipatory jitters weren’t entirely unfounded—anthrax killed a hospital worker in Manhattan—but they arose from something that had already happened and wouldn’t be repeated. By contrast, the covid-19 crisis involves worries about something we’ve been warned is on the way. The social remedy is the opposite of the sort of coming together that made the days and weeks after 9/11 endurable for so many, as they shared dinners and embraced friends. That basic human huddling is now forbidden, with the recommendations for “distancing” bearing down ever tighter: no more than five hundred people together, then two hundred and fifty, then fifty, then ten.
At the same time, the emphasis on social distancing and even isolation is part of an epidemiological study in statistical probability. If we delay the communication of the virus from patient to patient, the curve of new cases may flatten, so that fewer people at any time will need hospitalization, reducing the stress on the system and keeping health services available for all the other countless ailments that strike a city of eight million. In a way, the self-seclusions are exhibits not of personal panic but of public-minded prudence: we are trying to save the lives, above all, of the most vulnerable. But, of course, the plague-in-progress may progress despite it all.“Love in the Time of Cholera” is Gabriel García Márquez’s great novel of another plague time—with cholera, we’re told, referring to both the name of the terrible disease and the condition of being colérico, angry and impassioned. Love in the time of coronavirus was bound to happen—in crisis and despair is born desire—and it already has. Kids forced to leave college and return home to the city talked about long-sought last-minute assignations on the night before the general expulsion.
Sometimes desire in anxiety can be more delicate. In Grand Central Terminal, what some call “the tile telephone”—the whispering gallery in front of the Oyster Bar, under the beautiful basket weave of arches—has never been so clear. The noise of the station is usually so intense that the tiled ceiling turns mute. Now, for the first time in forever, the abatement in the roar and press of people allows couples’ murmured endearments, spoken into one corner, to race up through the solid Guastavino tile and carry all the way over to the diagonally facing corner.A pair of young friends encountered there that Friday weren’t out-of-towners; this was Kyle and Leah, and they’re New Yorkers through and through, who decided that this was the moment, finally, to really see Grand Central. The appetite for the joys of structured sightseeing is indomitable. Another young woman, Amaya—visiting from Durham, North Carolina, and crushed to find the city so inhospitable—stood in the corner, smiling and singing to a friend on the other side.But it was on Saturday, when the sky was blue and the temperature hovered in the fifties, that the irresistible urge to find pleasure brought out flocks of young people to various outdoor spaces. “I’ve noticed that a lot of people my age are headed to Prospect Park and are taking advantage of a beautiful day, a large space where they can mingle,” a thirty-one-year-old woman said, early on Saturday afternoon. “They sort of keep social distance, but also connect.” Many photographs, shared widely on social media, seemed to show the millennials lounging thoughtlessly close, prompting a Twitter uproar.
The uproar did seem to reflect a determination on the part of young people in New York to go on living like young people in New York. “Last night I went out to a restaurant,” the same woman said. “And the wait was half an hour. So we went to a different restaurant, and at that one, when the waitress was bringing out drinks, she got confused about where to go, since they had just changed their seating—I think to have more space between tables. ”Like life-hardened Sam Rivera, these younger New Yorkers have touching if perhaps worrying faith in their own invulnerability. “I don’t think people in my cohort are that terrified,” the woman went on. “Most people seem to believe that they will get the virus and they will survive having it. The vibe is pretty much one of acceptance, even a little bit of excitement. I hate to say this, but it’s become a distraction from the election. Also, a lot of my friends are cooking. Like ambitious stockpot recipes—soups and stews—and a lot of baking, too. Pies and cookies. I myself am currently deep-cleaning my apartment, knowing that I’ll be stuck in it.” Meanwhile, she said, “my family is from New York, and my father has been fearlessly going to the gym. I think there’s a bit of yolo fear to it—he wants to make the most of his life. But I have pleaded with him to stop.”
That same Saturday, Maggie McGlinchy, a bartender, worked all evening at Bernie’s Restaurant, on the border of Greenpoint and Williamsburg. “It was full,” she said on Sunday. “But it doesn’t take much to fill the restaurant. The actual volume was low, and it seemed as though no one wanted to be seen to be fully enjoying themselves. I sold a lot of Martinis that night—mostly Martinis, or Old-Fashioneds or Manhattans. No wine or artisanal ale. Everyone was trending the spirits.
“At Bernie’s, I’m on a first-name basis with possibly a third of the customers—it’s definitely a home base. In the past two nights, a lot of my customers are people who wanted to come in and support us. Most of my tips were over twenty per cent. That’s the other thing about social distancing—so much of what it means to be comforted is to be . . . not distant. Stay positive, I’d say—we’re feeling well right now and let’s hope it stays positive and do you want another drink?” But by Sunday night all the bars and restaurants in the city had been ordered to stop table service in the next few days, an unimaginable act a week earlier, as strange as if the island of Manhattan had floated out to sea.
McGlinchy said that she is looking for a new job, but there are no new jobs for bartenders, because there are no bars.“What do I have going forward? I have a month’s rent and a warm e-mail from my former employer,” she said dryly on Tuesday morning. “I’ve had some regulars send me twenty bucks over Venmo. Last tips.”
The full weight of the shutdown will fall most heavily on the Maggies of the world, who have little or no financial cushion. (Later, Bernie’s set up a GoFundMe campaign for the staff.) Hundreds of thousands of people in the service and entertainment industries—from bartenders to the “swing” theatre actors who pride themselves on leaping into whatever role has been left open by an unwell lead—are out of work, for a time that has no known limit.There are, as well, the small, crushing disappointments that, though reasonably lost in the larger life-and-death clamor, are very real to the people they have happened to. The actress Ilana Levine had just opened in a new play, “The Perplexed,” by Richard Greenberg—a comeback of sorts for her—when all theatres, concert venues, and night clubs were closed. “You know, I had been on Broadway a lot when I was younger,” she said. “But then came L.A. and children. . . . And out of the blue I got this call to do this play of Richard’s, with the idea that, after all this time, I’d be back on the stage in New York, which I missed desperately. So all of these things I’d been dreaming of happened, and with it came so much fear and anxiety: ‘Can I make it work?’ ” She laughed at the idea of what fear and anxiety meant a few days earlier—having too much to memorize.
“The play is about family and struggle and old hurts and people having to be, in this sort of Sartre way, perpetually closed off in the space of one room with each other,” she continued. “So now the play and the reality are one, in ways I could never have imagined. Except I don’t get to do it in this world, with an audience.” The evocative set, designed by Santo Loquasto, of a New York town house, has not yet been struck from the Manhattan Theatre Club stage, she said. “So all of us keep thinking of that set, and how we want to get to it, be on it—the company, even without an audience, just to work together on it. Actors are not people who know how to isolate. We are suddenly physically frozen at this moment.”
The young musical-theatre actress Abena Mensah-Bonsu, cast in a significant role in a new show, “Nollywood Dreams,” had been commuting in from New Jersey, feeling all the ancient excitement of a big break. Now she sits at home and is eager to get back to the theatre. “Acting is the opposite of social distancing,” she said, echoing Levine. “Even if you’re introverted, as I am. So, when we sit in place, we long to be engaged with someone.” On Broadway, the theatres are empty, but the lights have still been on, as though the theatres were willing the shows to continue.
One irony of this pandemic is that, while it exposes the gaps in our social and medical safety nets, it also punishes people for behaving well. Communities with the healthiest intergenerational relationships seem to be at greater risk than those that sequester older people in nursing homes. Italy, one study shows, has been so hard hit by the coronavirus because there the young and the old have the beautiful habit of mingling together. Grandparents are accustomed to being with their grandchildren.In the days before the shutdown, the Lubavitcher community in Crown Heights became a virus hot spot, perhaps because the Hasidic sects, too, have kept at bay the alienation of generations that is so much part of American life. “Do you want to know how things appear, or how they are?” Mica Soffer, the editor of a Jewish news Web site, said that Sunday. “It’s been extremely hectic. As far as the community itself, I guess we weren’t so much prepared. It’s in China, it’s in Europe—we didn’t realize how quickly it would get here. Our community is so connected. We live in an urban area—you’re always around people. It’s Brooklyn, after all! Late last week, I had a shiva call, a wedding, and an engagement party. Everyone has a million things they need to go to—families are large.”She went on, “Most families here have elderly parents and grandparents—it’s a big part of life. Purim was last weekend—you’re talking about people being exposed. We didn’t realize at first. We didn’t know. There was a lot of contact. Very much part of our day-to-day life—especially with the men going to shul three times a day, and Torah classes every single day. One of the things that’s so amazing is that everybody kicked into high gear to put up yeshivas online within two days.
“In Crown Heights, davening still goes on, it always has to be there, within the realm of whatever number the health department says. No more than ten people in Israel. A rabbi told me, ‘Faith is not the absence of reason.’ We don’t give up on the interventions. God blessed us with doctors, not as something apart from us but as something there to help us. My father told me this: God is in charge, and God watches over us. Every time I get really panicky, there’s that sense that God is taking care of us. I’m an anxious person and it’s not easy. But I have to access that. Rabbi Nachum said, ‘Gam zu l’tovah’—‘This, too, shall be for the good.’ ” On Tuesday, rabbis closed the Crown Heights synagogues. “Now,” Soffer said, “many people are praying outdoors, six feet away from each other.”
The self-exile of the very wealthy from the city that made them rich is hardly uniform. A feeling of social responsibility, of solidarity, is embodied by Elizabeth Smith, who is the head of the Central Park Conservancy. She and her husband, Rick Cotton, the head of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, became among the first public officials in New York known to have covid-19. Now all she wants is to get back to the Park.
“I’ve never been in the tabloids before,” Smith, who is in her late sixties, said from her Manhattan apartment, where she was convalescing, and in her second week of seclusion. “In my family, you’re in the paper when you’re born and again when you marry. And the fact of the matter is that the virus gets . . . very virulent. I wasn’t feeling well on Saturday—all the typical flu symptoms, like a fever, but a relatively mild case of the flu for me. I stayed in bed, had my moments of panic, but I was fortunate to be paired with Rick, who was positive but asymptomatic. And I was well enough to stay in touch with the Conservancy and find out how everyone was faring—the morale and the health of the staff—and the Park itself, too. It has the tremendous power of offering peace and respite to people. The amazing people are the city workers. They keep showing up. They show up at work and they do the right thing. There are lots of selfless people, lots of people who take public service seriously.”
Even if she hadn’t fallen ill, Smith said, she would have wanted to stay in the city. “We have a big responsibility to the public,” she said. “You know, when Frederick Law Olmsted made the Park, it was just with that in mind: most people don’t even have a chance of leaving New York. It’s for all those people who couldn’t leave the city, to get to the Adirondacks.” Smith is the chair of the Library of America, which published a collection of Olmsted’s essays, letters, and other reflections in 2015. “Believe it or not, I never quite got through Olmsted’s writings,” she admitted. “He was a genius and a beautiful writer.” She is now immersed in the volume: “I’m not in the Park but I can stay in the Park.”
Emptiness and absence contradict the very concept of the city. The point of a city is social proximity; to see people deliberately spaced out, like the walking but never intersecting figures in a Giacometti, is to see what cities aren’t. In a historical sense, cities are always organisms of a kind, like coral reefs, where a lot of people come together to barter spices and exchange ideas and find mates, and endure the recurrent damage of infectious disease.The question is whether the current upheavals could somehow alter New York forever. Some beloved places may stay closed. Some new practices may be perpetuated. The digital trends toward disaggregation of experience may get a boost, at a cost to everything we love about the city. There’s an eerie gap between the raucous and argumentative world of the Internet and the silence of the streets. Outside, new patterns of wider spacing and greater caution assert themselves: Is that masked man contagious and to be avoided by crossing the street? Did we forget to sanitize after touching the gate to the park? And, with them, the terrible self-monitoring of plague times: Do I feel normal? Is my temperature high? Feel my forehead.Until last week, no one ever thought that Camus’s “The Plague” was about the plague. It was the text through which generations of high schoolers were taught how not to read literally. It was always taken as a fable or an allegory, specifically of the German occupation of France. The people in Camus’s plague town of Oran did not in any way deserve to suffer from the disease, but the crisis revealed all the various human responses of cowardice, denial, and courage. The point was not that actual plagues tell us much, but that the pressure of extreme and unexpected events forces the flaws in our common character to the surface.
This plague has proved an equal-opportunity evil, striking theocratic states like Iran and authoritarian ones like China, and more open ones like our own and those in Europe. Some hard balance of authority and openness is obviously essential to going on at all, but this is not news. We have always known that having the confidence to act, and the clarity to see if the way we act is good, is vital to our continued existence. Our continued existence! It used to be a kind of metaphor, really meaning “the easy perpetuation of our familiar way of life.” No more.
By midweek, even the dance of wariness was muted: New Yorkers, largely sheltering in place, still allowed themselves to walk their dogs, but walked them alone on each street, with the next dog and owner at least a stoplight away. The dogs, puzzled not to have the greetings of others of their animal kind, sniffed doggedly in the dark, though now only at the scent of their solitary owners.
www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/03/30/the-coronavirus-cri...
I worry that I overthink my Polaroids. That I try too hard to make them count. It's not an unreasonable action - film scarcity and cost being what they are - but I fail to capture a certain whimsy that's (somewhat) present in the rest of my photography. And certainly the whimsy and playfulness that's present in me.
Ocotillo Wells is a town near the Imperial County border and a popular spot for vehicular recreation, as it were. There was a Thanksgiving carnival at the RV park and I couldn't help but stop to climb a fence (but only part way - I was wearing a skirt and didn't much want to derail the trip by getting in trouble for trespassing first thing) and shoot a bit.
I wish it had been open. I'm sure there would have been some great opportunities for portraiture and moody night shots. I love carnivals. I'm endlessly enchanted by all the lights. And easy to please, apparently.
This particular Polaroid was, like many on the trip, love at first sight for me. Such lovely tones and a nice amount of contrast. I'll have to scan it when I get a chance. It certainly didn't hold up, but it's an adorable little image still, all the same. All those little white specks are desert dust, alas. And jeez, I am totally overloading my ♥ set with #hoboroadtrip -age.
It really doesn't feel like it's only been a week since I drove home. It really feels like I've been through two lifetimes since then. Hard livin' in fog city.
In other news, I can't say I'm displeased about the Tumblr outage. My "Ain't nothing but a stranger in this world." got tumblred. And reblogged. And reblogged. To the tune of 400 notes on the damn image. I get it - that's how Tumblr works, that's how the internet works - but that picture is so special to me and that knowledge doesn't make it bother me any less.
Sometimes, not often I have time to sit and see what I've discarded over another shot, for the life of me I can't think why I chose the other shot!
Overthinking much?
are you coming or going?
in or out?
running around in circles in your mind?
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I got Lois to model for me again.
this is one of a cluster of photos for an art project I'm doing as a visual response to a song by Sidd & His Self-Esteem.
More details to come... =)
This creation is the second in my series of bicycles. A 1890s Penny Farthing, leaning against a gas lit lamp post. The scene includes a lace parasol, wicker basket and phonograph. The Penny Farthing was one of the last of its models before "safety" bikes were integrated into society. However Penny Farthings were still used for racing until the 1930s.
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This creation was made specifically for LEGO House in mind. When the team showed interest in exhibiting my LaFrance Streamliner and gave me the dimensions of the LEGO House Master Gallery space, I felt that the LaFrance wasn’t enough. The idea of building a Penny Farthing was in my mind for ages but loads of life things got in the way - I moved to England from Canada and decided to move my collection with me, which easily became overwhelming and disorganized. Once I had it all sorted out, a few months later I decided to move to Scotland so again my collection was all over the place! I finally moved in to my flat in Scotland and built non-stop for 2 weeks after work, and finally installed 'Day Out in Autumn' (along with 'Picnic in the City') on September 26 at LEGO House in Denmark.
This past year I’ve taken a long break from LEGO. Along with moving my life across the world and some personal life mishaps I was overwhelmed by the attention Picnic in the City got and felt the pressure of wanting to be sure my next creations were of the same high standard. This made me overthink a lot and overwhelm myself, so a break from the brick was needed. I'm excited to reveal to you guys my latest creation, and can say as well that my next one is shortly on its way. I truly do miss the community and building and have felt really disconnected this last year, hoping to get back into continuous building again.
Credit to Stefan Kubin for the dome technique that I used for the parasol - his colour choices were too perfect too that I used it for my parasol and need to credit him on being an inspiration.
Big hugs to Iain for doing an amazing job editing my awful photos taken in the most ghetto setup in my small flat. You are a star - TEAM BICYLE!
(So many lost words)
I am home alone for a week now and although I really enjoy doing whatever I want,the one thing that isn't good for me is the fact that I tend to overthink while I am lonely.
Things don't always go as we plan them.
Our thoughts sometimes become so silent in our heads that we almost forget them.
Words that haven't been shared,are making us ache.
A few days ago as I was thinking about my Creative September project, and how it showed and taught me so much about me as a person as well as an artist, and even though it was so stressful, I am so glad I did it, I decided to do a ~52 week one. This is my first image. I took this shot yesterday, but I’m uploading it now because I was editing all night last night to the point that I got sick from all the time in front of the computer.
Anyway..
So last week.. I was absolutely out of ideas. The end of the week was coming and everytime I forced myself to think of something.. blank.. nothing. Then on Saturday I was just sitting, trying to not think of anything and looked at my idea journal, maybe there was something in there I could use. But I never opened it, just looked at it, and it hit me. I saw it. I should portray that very moment. The moment of inspiration. The moment when you just let go, surrender to the moment, empty your head out of thoughts, let inspiration in and let ideas come out. Because, as I have experienced it myself many many times, and this is a fact, when you try to force out an idea thinking (and overthinking) you actually chase it away. An abundance of ideas is already inside of us and we just have to get rid of the extra clutter and let them fly out and take their form and place. Open your mind and let inspiration come and do its magic.
Happy New Year!
Have you ever had a great idea, then, planned, and planned, waited, and waited, getting ready to finish it? About 5 or 6 years ago, I had this idea to create a tribute for a subway musician that my wife and I ran across in the Montréal subway. We were staying at a small, classic hotel called the St. Denis, on the edge of the Old City. We parked our car for the week, and tooled around the city by subway. Montréal has designated areas for street musicians in the subway stations. Some of the performers are amazing. Our nearest station was the UQAM station, and it was in that station, I think, that we heard sweet, classical music played on a violin, by, someone who seemed to be dealing with personal issues. He was there everyday, playing, and seemingly oblivious to the people passing by him, just as they seemed to not notice him.
Something, not sure what it was, something made me listen intently, even as I hurried past. I tend to overthink things, as some of you can attest. lol So, of course, I developed a whole scenario as to how this particular musician landed there in that subway. lol None of it was true, mind you, and I do tend to the romantic when it comes to explaining life.
A few years passed, and I was somehow reminded of that violinist in Montréal, and inspired to start writing a series of poems to be later accompanied by photos. The poems kind of wrote themselves over the course of a couple years, but, I made very little effort to put together the necessary items to photograph. Then, recently, I finally found the last prop- a beat up, well played, violin, violin case, and two bows.
That leads me to two weeks ago, in the middle of my 3 week bronchitis, sinusitis binge. I had the brainstorm of an idea to see if I could Dogpile the subway musician to see if I could flesh out his story before posting on Flickr. Low and behold, there was a very well done video on TouYube, and needless to say, the narrative did not match my Fiddler Pentalogy. At that point, I pretty much decided that I would just chuck it all. After writing a long, pathetic rant, feeling sorry for myself, lol, I came to the conclusion that it was just the bronchitis/sinusitis talking, and I decided to go ahead with my original plan. Today, I took a few preliminary shots at Port Bruce, with a whole buncha mishaps to boot. lol It was so windy that a handcrafted urn I had bought just for this project blew off the table I had for it, and the urn broke. I had forgotten to bring along stick-tac. I had also forgotten my prop window at home. The violin also fell over and blew over about 10times. The light was wrong (wrong time of day). My table fell apart. I got wet feet in Lake Erie. I tripped over a large snow/ice ball on the beach as I was backing away from the waves. Landed in a cold, wet, dirty schmuck, but, at least I didn’t get my feet wet again. I have also developed an ominous issue with my 24-120mm, go to lens. When I try to focus, the lens jumps around like a Mexican jumping bean. I’ve had the same issue with a couple other lenses, and it didn’t end well. I’ll have to see if Nikon will honour their guarantee. Probably be weeks without it.
I’m trying to decide how to present the actual Fiddler Pentalogy. All at once, in order? One at a time, starting at the end, or the beginning? Once a day for five days? Once a week for five weeks? I know it’s not all that great, so I don’t wanna oversell it. lol I’ll have an introduction to the collection when the time comes. Think of this as the introduction to the introduction. Or the Introintro.
Back to the roots...I think it is good and often necessary to overthink the time behind us, because not all the 'progress' is healthy for us and brings happyness...!
Copyright: Nadia Minic, Luxembourg
TBH I’ve been looking forward to being tagged for a long time – I’m the kind of person that has a lot of weird stuff to say but doesn’t like to say it unless the opportunity presents itself.
And then I get double-tagged by Sean.
This is gonna be fun.
#1: I am narrowly classified as INTP personality type. I say narrowly because two of the personality aspects (I forget which two at the moment) I was just past the threshold
#2: I am incredibly indecisive. I can’t pick an absolute favorite in most categories “absolute favorite” is asked for.
#3: I tend to overthink the way I write things, such as how I want to start this 40 fact list with broad stuff and then proceed into narrow stuff.
#4: I got into LEGO in 2003, and my favorite themes as a child were Alpha Team (2004), Mars Mission, Batman G1, and Exo-Force.
#5: My first BIONICLE set was Piruk, which I got for free as a part of the BrickMaster program. For some reason I got two copies.
#6: I began actively collecting constraction sets in 2008, but tended to scrap the characters as soon as possible to make my own story. At one point I changed the story every few months.
#7: I got back into BIONICLE (story included this time) in 2013.
#8: Probably as a result of not coming into the line at its beginning, I don’t enjoy “The Golden Years” as much as later BIONICLE. My favorite years would probably be 2004, 2006, and 2008.
#9: Ice Cream Time. 2:00 EST. The only fixed time in my daily schedule.
#10: I enjoy strategy, racing (with items/violence), and platforming/adventure games. The first three video games I got as a child – LEGO Chess, LEGO Racers 2, and LEGO Island 2 – were the first in all three game styles I played (well, LI2 did have a platforming section in it, at least…)
#11: Recently I’ve also been playing Smash, which has done a good bit to expose me to other games. My mains are Ike and Shulk, but I also play a fair bit of Bowser, Robin, Ganondorf, Roy, Toon Link, and Samus.
#12: Currently playing Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword (which is just called Fire Emblem in the states.) It’s fantastic.
#13: I have high-functioning autism/Asperger’s syndrome. I’ve lost most of the symptoms of autism as I grew older, but still have some of the inability to register emotions in real life.
#14: Actually, that’s not entirely true. I have a strange tendency to place people I meet on a “continuum” concerning how they behave most of the time. It has something do with geometric shapes.
#15: I have perfect pitch (also known as absolute pitch), which allows me to name the key of any song I hear, and of many sounds I hear in everyday life. Much to the annoyance of those around me when I point it out.
#16: I listen almost exclusively to instrumental music, including soundtracks (F-Zero X, Xenoblade Chronicles), trailer music (Position Music, Audiomachine), and primarily vocal artists that also release instrumental versions of their music (Celldweller, Blue Stahli, Dream Theater).
#17: My favorite genre of music is what I like to call “medium hard” rock: usually anything harder than standard rock’n’roll but softer than heavy metal. This includes hard rock, symphonic/progressive metal, and metal covers of “not quite heavy metal” songs. See ArtificialFear’s Legend of Zelda covers.
#18: I will listen to other genres on occasion, include rock/metal music softer than my selected spectrum (rarely harder), dubstep/dance, classical, choral, jazz trio, and whatever that Hispanic guitar genre is called. I can’t stand pop, rap, country or “beach music” (not surf rock, that music with the steel drums) unless it’s done really well (such as TobyMac’s combination of rock/metal and rap.)
#19: I’ve played multiple instruments, including piano, snare drum, voice, and recorder. Presently I play the bass guitar (sometimes in the style of an electric guitar) and the classical guitar, and beatbox. I’d like to get into playing the electric guitar and/or drum set at some point.
#20: Halfway through. I think soon I’ll run out of normal stuff and start spouting useless information.
#21: I’m nondenominational Christian. No, Sean, we don’t have a pope in this denomination.
#22: I enjoy reading the historical and apocalyptic passages in the Bible. The latter is a good source of inspiration for me.
#23: I run the lyrics slides, and occasionally the sound board, at my church. It’s given me a whole new hatred for grammatical and punctuation errors.
#24: I know a decent amount of the lore for the Star Wars, Marvel, DC, and Lord of the Rings franchises.
#25: I enjoy medieval fantasy, but not what’s termed “high fantasy”. Anything based of Tolkien, except the original itself, becomes bland to me. I like to downplay magic and mystical races in favor of down to earth characters with down to earth warfare. (See fact #12)
#26: I haven’t read that many books in my teenage years, but I remember in my early teens I read Warrior Cats and enjoyed it.
#27: I haven’t watched that many movies either, prefer video games. Usually the draw to a movie for me would be character designs that could inspire my creative outlets in some way or the special effects.
(this is the point the useless information starts)
#28: I probably have an addiction to cubed ice.
#29: I use inhuman amounts of ketchup.
#30: I once gave myself a nosebleed while pushing a potato across a carpet, and five minutes later saw someone else do the same thing. It makes sense in context.
#31: I have bunch of (now faint) scars from falling out of a tree.
#32: I’m an experienced piggybacking mount.
#33: I probably have misophonia, where I can become disgusted or angry when hearing certain sounds, namely the sounds of certain food being eaten or of verbal distress. Ties into fact #14 in determining who I want to hang out with.
#34: According to a dialect test I took a while back my dialect would be more at home in California than where I live, in the South.
#35: Back to BIONICLE: My favorite masks are the Kakama Mata, Noble Matatu, Great Komau, and Kiril.
#36: When I reached this point I was racking my brains for anything remotely interesting about me that you wouldn’t already know.
#37: #RoastJake2k15.
#38: I was going to take a fancy picture of myself wearing a life-size version of my selfMOC’s mask, but was too lazy.
#39: Said picture was also going to use this cape I have stuffed in my closet that I’m now slowly eating away to make custom capes/hoods/stuff for my MOCs.
#40: I’d bet 40 cents that within the next hour I remember something interesting about me that I forgot.
So yeah. Enjoy this fantastic image of a chicken's eye and these useless facts.
I dug out all of my So Small Babies, but I don’t have enough storage to save all the photos I took of my little village. Here’s a teaser while I sort photos. (And most likely build a larger village.)
TMI:
It almost feels like I’m having a hard time keeping caught up lately? Busy taking photos instead of browsing or posting. Lots of projects and even more executive dysfunction. I’m days behind on my feed; no storage=picky Internet.
I’ve just been going with the flow I guess, it’s working so far. (Mostly.) (Wednesday morning I was going about my business when I realized at 7:55 AM that 8 would be “noon eastern time”... a moment of panicked refreshing my browser trying to load a google form before I realized that Wednesday was not Thursday at all... So after a big laugh at myself I have felt pretty zen about things since... so, my normal balance of overthinking and impulsivity I guess.)
Challenged myself to make 30 images in 30 days, to let go of control, to stop overthinking, to stop worrying about outcomes, and to just go ahead and do things and to put them out there. So here goes.
We were given a photographic assignment: double exposure. My original idea was to make it so the model was lying in a bubble, attatched to a flower stem. That did not work out as planned as I had to take pictures of every pupil at school for the upcoming yearbook.The idea for this though, was to focus on how overthinking can be a burden to many.
This creation is the second in my series of bicycles. A 1890s Penny Farthing, leaning against a gas lit lamp post. The scene includes a lace parasol, wicker basket and phonograph. The Penny Farthing was one of the last of its models before "safety" bikes were integrated into society. However Penny Farthings were still used for racing until the 1930s.
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This creation was made specifically for LEGO House in mind. When the team showed interest in exhibiting my LaFrance Streamliner and gave me the dimensions of the LEGO House Master Gallery space, I felt that the LaFrance wasn’t enough. The idea of building a Penny Farthing was in my mind for ages but loads of life things got in the way - I moved to England from Canada and decided to move my collection with me, which easily became overwhelming and disorganized. Once I had it all sorted out, a few months later I decided to move to Scotland so again my collection was all over the place! I finally moved in to my flat in Scotland and built non-stop for 2 weeks after work, and finally installed 'Day Out in Autumn' (along with 'Picnic in the City') on September 26 at LEGO House in Denmark.
This past year I’ve taken a long break from LEGO. Along with moving my life across the world and some personal life mishaps I was overwhelmed by the attention Picnic in the City got and felt the pressure of wanting to be sure my next creations were of the same high standard. This made me overthink a lot and overwhelm myself, so a break from the brick was needed. I'm excited to reveal to you guys my latest creation, and can say as well that my next one is shortly on its way. I truly do miss the community and building and have felt really disconnected this last year, hoping to get back into continuous building again.
Credit to Stefan Kubin for the dome technique that I used for the parasol - his colour choices were too perfect too that I used it for my parasol and need to credit him on being an inspiration.
Big hugs to Iain for doing an amazing job editing my awful photos taken in the most ghetto setup in my small flat. You are a star - TEAM BICYLE!
This week you will be taking photos for the icon "The Pink Cult" (who are also the host of this contest).
REQUIREMENTS:
- PINK. You know the drill. No other colours but pink.
- You dont HAVE to but cult-ish symbolism like eyes & triangles are appropriate to use
- Urban & stylish!
- Don't overthink it!!!
If you wanna use the eye, here it is: www.flickr.com/photos/94274459@N07/33267549278/in/datepos...
Deadline is February 26th.
Hello ladies and welcome to your eighth elimination. This week you were doing a photoshoot for Versace in the incredible Versace Mansion.
You know us judges:
Danielle Monroe, model and last cycle's winner
And me, Ana Alvares
Let's start!
Césaria: www.flickr.com/photos/93280992@N05/16520096652/in/photoso...
Danielle: This is stunning and it’s probably one of my favorite photos from you. I think you look so elegant and regal but you managed to do it in a way that is unlike what we’ve seen from you before. I absolutely love your hair and makeup and it compliments your dress perfectly. Great job!
Ana: This photo is majestic! You look like a goddess. I love you outfit, I love your styling, the hair, the make-up, the setting is STELLAR! Everything is just on point. Great job this week!
Kyle: www.flickr.com/photos/94274459@N07/16576489642/in/photoso...
What happened? This is such a huge step down from the past few weeks. There’s really nothing I like about this photo aside from maybe your hair and lipstick. I’m not a fan of the dress and it really doesn’t have that expensive look that I think was so important for this theme. The background really does you no favors either. I’m really disappointed with this Kyle; I know you can do better.
Ana: Last week you knocked it out of the park, I mean it was one of the best photos of this cycle so to see this coming from you is very shocking. I don't know f you had a bad week or what it is but this doesn't even look like you. The angle of your face is not very flattering and i'm not feeling anything Versace about this photo.
Aqua: www.flickr.com/photos/trendytwinzx4/15913259363/in/photos...
Danielle: I’m sorry, but I’m really not a fan of this Aqua. If I’m being honest, I think you look quite cheap and I think the pose is the one thing that keeps this photo from looking too cheap. Although I like the metallic look of your outfit, it really doesn’t look expensive and the spray tan and ombre hair are doing you no favors. I know you can do better Aqua.
Ana: I have to disagree, I like this photo! It's sweet but like expensive sweet if you get what I mean. It's so effortless but yet you are in control. Like, this photo gives e very different and interesting vibes. I find this photo interesting but in a very good way.
Hazel: www.flickr.com/photos/84271682@N06/16591494482/in/photoso...
Danielle: This is a beautiful shot from you Hazel. I love the dress and how you almost look like a statue or part of the décor in it and I think you made a smart choice by keeping your hair and makeup a little simpler. The set is great but I think it’s almost a little too busy. Still, nice job
Ana: You are on the edge of perfection. Unfortunately, I think it looks a bit too christmasy for me with the flowers, the candles and the red. If you would have went all gold, I mean your dress is magnificent, then you would have slayed everyone this week. My advice to you is to not overthink, sometimes less is more.
Kora: www.flickr.com/photos/that-doll/16428834669/in/photosof-9...
Danielle: This is a nice shot but that’s all it is. It’s not the best and it’s not the worst. I think your hair and makeup are nice and your outfit works quite well. The background for me is too white and plain though. I wish you had some gold or dark accents on the wall or a fancy area rug because it’s missing that extra something
Ana: It doesn’t feel like you pushed it enough. In this case, you kept it too simple. You look very beautiful but it's too basic coming from you and knowing what you capable of. Don't play it safe, you have a face that can pull off basically anything.
Liberty: www.flickr.com/photos/bratzrlife13/16409226137/in/photoso...
Danielle: You look stunning Liberty. I think your styling and dress are absolutely perfect but the background really brings the photo down for me; it’s just too simple. It doesn’t look glamorous and it looks more like you’re in your room getting ready for a fancy event instead of looking like you’re in a fashion magazine.
Ana: This photo tells a story which I really appreciate. You look very beautiful and you have a very dreamy look on your face. I have to agree with Danielle about the setting. It doesn't really suit the theme. But other than that you did a great job!
Charlize: www.flickr.com/photos/53199633@N02/16605149495/in/photoso...
Danielle: This is by far my favorite photo from you Charlize. I think you look absolutely gorgeous. The dress is stunning and your hair and makeup look great. Everything in this photo just works. My one complaint would be the effect on the sides of the photo but other than that, great job!
Ana: Not my favorite photo from you Charlize. I think it's just too much going on in this photo. It almost looks a bit fantasy-ish and not much Versace. Stylingwise you excelled but the lightning and the setting doesn't work for me.
Now it's time for us to score your photos and when I call you back, I will announce which one of you will be going home.
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I have 7 beautiful girls standing in front of me but only 6 photos in my hand and these photos represent the 6 of you that will still be in the running towards becoming Bratz Next Top Model.
Best photo this week goes to...
1. Cesaria: 24 (12+12)
Congratulations, you are still in the running towards becoming Bratz Next Top Model.
BEST TO WORST:
2. Hazel: 22 (10,5+11,5)
3. Aqua: 21,5 (12+9,5)
4. Liberty: 21,5 (10,5+11)
5. Charlize: 21 (9+12)
Kyle and Kora, please step forwards.
I only have 1 photo in my hands and this photo represent the girl that are still in the running towards becoming Bratz Next Top Model.
It is very sad to see you 2 standing here in the bottom because you girls have produced some of the best photos of this competition. You stand here for the same reason, you played it too safe. Playing it too safe in this competition doesn't take you far.
So who stays?
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6. Kora: 20,5 (10+10,5)
Kora, don't ever play it safe. Safe doesn't suit you, you are always the one pushing your creativity. Don't lose that. Congratulations, you are still in the running towards becoming Bratz Next Top Model.
Kyle, it really really breaks my heart to see you go. I thought you would stay all the way til the end. You are an amazing model and a beautiful girl and you will make it. Don't forget that one eliminated girl will be coming back later and I want you to BRING IT. You will be very missed xx
Midas is king and he holds me so tight, and turns me to gold in the sunlight.
Florence. Beautiful video.
I'm not the same person I used to be. I'm still in the process of deciding if this is a good thing.
Watching Friends. I've missed it. "I wanna be Mr Wigglemunch!" Ohh, Joey.
Today was ok. I read a lot of Hamlet. I usually spell it 'okay', not sure why it was 'ok' there. Need to stop overthinking. The tone of this 365 has been remarkably confusing, no? Even I don't know what I'm thinking.
I did a King Midas shoot with Harry D and Amy, I quite like the results, you'll probably see them soon. That's what inspired this.
I never know the right thing to say!
Prompts: Sittin' in the garden, I'm a couple glasses in. I was tryna count up all the places we've been. You're always there, so don't overthink. I'm so over whites and pinks.
Made with #midjourney
Thank you for your visit, faves, and kind comments. 😊
WEEK 12 – Southaven Gordmans Liquidates Again (VI)
Looking here at the right side wall, close to where it meets up with the back right corner (just out of frame to the left from this vantage point). Again, as I noted, despite all the merchandise you see on those many clothing racks belonging to the boys’ department, Stage curiously put up a baby poster in the frame on the left, and a girls poster in the frame on the right. Granted, there was always going to be one duplicate poster regardless of how you split it – we’ll see later that ultimately it was the girls’ department that wound up with two posters instead of just one – but it just feels to me that a second boys poster would have better reflected the actual locations of the merchandise. But I’m probably just overthinking things anyway; I’m not sure how many people ever really paid attention to this stuff besides me.
(c) 2021 Retail Retell
These places are public so these photos are too, but just as I tell where they came from, I'd appreciate if you'd say who :)
I have been doing a small art drawing every morning for some time now. I don't plan or overthink, I just do. Postcards are my substrate a manageable size for a quick drawing. It's interesting to see how the work evolves.
I'm not usually one for shots like this, but it's been so long since I saw a decent sunset...
Lady Antebellum - Need You Now.
Tagged. Merci,
Sarah, Ailsa, Lily. Three beautiful girls and awesome photographers, check 'em out.
facts (because I did the questions before :))
1. I'm still buzzing from fixing the computer (explained on my previous photo :))
2. I'm frustrated because I can't find two folders of lovely photos on either of my computers, and I reeeeally want them back.
3. I'm a child of summer. And autumn. My birthday is september, so I always look forward to a summer full of memories and finishing it off with what's effectively the end of another year. Winter doesn't suit me - it cracks my skin and hates my face.
4. I dreamt that my purse got stolen the other night, and I was most concerned about losing my Two Seasons' loyalty card, since I'm on my 6th stamp so I get £10 off my next purchase. Even though I have gift cards, money, and all sorts of more important things in there. Weird.
5. Today was the first time in a looong time I've been to lincoln and got everything I needed; Hannah's presents, an outfit for london, fluffy warm gloves, photopaper, and a little pair of grey boots too :)
6. I overthink things. I lose sleep over stuff no one else cares about, and re-write conversations in my mind.
7. I really want to go to anti-valentine's day, even though I currently have a boyfriend. He'd kill me if he read that.
8. One day, I'm going to go sit at in Heathrow's arrivals lounge with my camera, and just watch people's faces light up with happiness and re-fall in love to restore my faith in human nature. How dare anyone think they have the right to take someone's life? Let alone an attempt at eighteen lives?
9. I've had a relaxed weekend, yet still managed to do no work whatsoever. Good one, Louise.
10. I'm in need of new music suggestions, any ideas?
- also, if you were giving someone a whirlwind tour of london, where would you take them?
xx
This is a very fresh shot of myself overthinking. Sometimes, I am on my way somewhere, feeling very calm and joyful, when all of a sudden other thoughts creep in, where I don't know what I want in anything. Sometimes, I don't know what I want in a relationship even though I feel like I know very clearly what it is I want/need/seek. But if I was offered what I was seeking I would turn it down, due to not being ready to take care of such precious love. I would drown the person with me.
You can't save someone from drowning if you can't even swim.
I guess I was taught how to swim a long time ago and I forgot how to now, because I was always on boats. Now, God, has thrown me in the water and forced me to learn to swim on my own. Of course it feels like I am drowning sometimes.. But I am glad I was thrown into it to teach myself from scratch something I was taught was so easy. It's not easy.. It's the most special thing in the world to know how to love and to nourish it with everything you have got. Just like swimming; if you stop swimming you'll drown. We can't survive without oxygen just as we can't survive without love.
So yes, I am sometimes in conflict with myself. I just want to be ready for the real love.