View allAll Photos Tagged PATHOS
Buy Prints | Blog | Google+ | China Photo Book
I was hanging out on a sandbar in the middle of the Li River, waiting for sunset when this fisherman happened to pass by. The sky was a crazy shade of yellow and the clouds surrounding the sun made it seem like some sort of solar explosion. Neither the fireflies, nor the fisherman and his two trusty cormorants seemed concerned that the sky was on fire. It was such a surreal landscape with the huge Guilin mountains in the background that I felt some sort of displacement of consciousness. Experiences such as these are a constant reminder to me that traveling is always worth all the minor inconveniences.
The Republic agent tracked down the villain and action was about to commence in the streets of the district capital!
Dark Lord: (With a tad too much pathos in his voice) "I am Darth Ragnagoth the Great! Ruler of this city, the whole planet and the nearby sectors. If you go now, you shall leave this planet unharmed."
General Rox: "In the name of the Republic, surrender your weapons and capitulate. We will put in a good word for you in court. Only 10 or 20 standard years in the ore mines of Delrian..."
Dark Lord: "If you little creatures continue to annoy me, I'll be forced to activate my lightsaber and cut you a little."
General Rox: "Go ahead then, Dark Lord!"
Darth Ragnagoth turned his back to the Republic forces... and... activated his lightsaber!
General Rox: "Sir, it looks like you just put a wooden stick on your lightsaber hilt, no?"
Unfazed by the shenanigans a beggar sat in a corner, asking for alms.
After the imposter and his companions were taken into custody, peace returned and everything went back to normal. As it ever was on the peaceful agriworld of Dagro. Nevertheless, the Dagro people would talk about the Sith Lord who ruled their planet for a long long time in the years to come and eventually the spectacle became part of the local folklore.
[Built for Eurobricks Mysteries Lego Star Wars RPG.]
the van gogh museum. i think technically we weren't supposed to be taking pictures of the paintings-- but this was a far wall in the exhibit of his self portraits and i think this was one my DD took using my camera :)
It's like being handed a 'late life' gift, when all the other natural life enhancers start to fade, including the ability to see and understand, and even the desire to find the words to communicate.
But here we are.
I love the overlay of neglect life threw at the image, the dirt, the scratches, the breaks, the suggestion of colour, yes this is a colour photograph, hugely enlarged, of a neglected black and white memory.
The neglect, that abuse itself, is beautiful, full of pathos and reverie, dark poetry even.
I love that we haphazardly survive what life throws at us, and somehow find the resilience to continue and even attempt to communicate hope.
A.I. couldn't do this. It wouldn't have the nonce to describe the creative flowering that can possibly coexist as a by-product of abuse. It attempts to idealise. I see it as partially our job to teach it to care.
We are all 'Mary Shelleys' now. How did Mary Shelley survive knowing that her after-birth killed her blindingly brilliant mother?
She showed us a re-animated monster, and asked us to love it.
what is it?
I'm not sure. but it's a surprisingly well-preserved specimen.
maybe it is a totem to one of their ancient gods.
perhaps. we should study it for clues about the demise of this civilization.
the centuries have not been kind to the remains of those who dwelt in this place.
from the looks of things, they had a tough time from the start.
the pathos is palpable.
indeed. pass the bottle, will you?
The Vale of Neath has been much carved up by canals, railways, mineral lines and, in recent times, by gigantic roads. There is a pathos about such places that I enjoy: they are neither town nor country and nature carries on as it were unofficially; minnows and sticklebacks dart among submerged bicycle frames and sunken plastic garden chairs as swallows skim the surface above; bee-frequented dandelions push their way up between slabs of concrete where lorries thunder overhead. A party of domestic geese emerges hissing from the yard at the side of a chapel ...Ebenezer? Salem? ...now converted to a dwelling, probably by "incomers" eager to escape the London rat-race but now rather missing it. But goodness me, what a place for Japanese Knotweed! Just between the tops of the first two fence posts you can see a brown and withered clump, where an attempt has been made to kill it off before it encroaches upon the garden walls and the foundations of the houses ...as it surely must. Further along, the canal bank is lined with it for miles to a great depth. One wonders how it can ever be eradicated. That other aggressively invasive alien, Himalayan Balsam, now chokes all the river valleys of South Wales and has changed their appearance, presumably for ever. I remember seeing it for the first time in about 1972.
Had a super visit to Cyprus to visit a long time friend who I have known from school days!! Boy we had a lot of quality time to catch up on as my last visit was back in 2010 although we keep regular contact on facetime. Its never quite the same as being over there to visit & see & talk in the flesh we had such a blast & a lot of happy memories to add to the rest of them, have already planned to return in 2017- as life is far to short.
811 Mil Mi-35P Hind-F/ Panther (023362) Cyprus Air Force -
Andreas Papandreou Airbase , Pathos International Airport Cyprus 08-11-2019
I re-posted this photo from reed flute cave on Google+ about a week ago and it has gotten over 124,000 views! Crazy!
*The Underground Lake*
There is a series of cave systems that run under the huge mountains of Guilin in southern China. Reed Flute Cave is one of the more famous ones so I made a slight detour to go check it out. Like most places in China, there were a good number of tourists around so I quietly waited for them to pass so that I could have the place to myself and take pictures. The problem was that they would turn off the lights as soon as the tourists passed by so I was often left in the middle of a huge underground chamber with nothing but my cat eyes to guide me to safety. It was a little bit eerie, but all together awesome! I would point my camera at the ceiling and leave the shutter open for minutes at a time to collect all the faint light reflecting off some distant stalactite.
I finally made my way to the largest chamber where a small lake made a perfect reflection of the alien-looking rock formation on the other end. As I was waiting for my camera to gather all the light, my mind started to wonder what was lying deep in this ancient underground lake. As I kept staring at the dark water, listening to the single drops of water sliding off the stalactites and delicately swan-diving into the lake, I started to feel a hypnotic pull to walk into the lake. Lucky for me I was traveling with my guide, Bart, who tripped over something, made a loud noise and brought me back to the present moment … and that is why you hire a guide, ladies and gentlemen. They can keep you from taking a dip in scary underground lakes.
Veils Of Tensions.
Пессимистические богословы богословы защищают царствованиями проявления плохих устоев усталые условия,
progressionem consectaria errorum fallacias contemplationem proposita, labores egoistical impulsio que est murmur vestrum,
υποκριτές κηδείες ασυνείδητο εκφράσεις αισθητή δραστηριότητα της συγκάλυψης διατάξεις λάθη αποφάσεις,
enunciando métodos combatiendo la poesía simbólica templado miente los miedos conscientes establecieron conclusiones,
potenti pareri faticoso intelletti falsità cognizione senza scopo momenti mendaci eternità vile,
insignificante pathos infeliz existência dissimulação pretentiousness chifres imerso sensações queima,
emot bedrägliga kunskap omättliga vibrationer sällskaplig kuriosa vindlingar sinnen välte,
ineffectief handige woorden misleidingen egoïstisch onvoldoende illusies aanwijzing van stimulus metaforen roepen,
アクセス不能な対話を無視して、定義可能な詩を個別化したアカウントを作成する.
Steve.D.Hammond.
もの の あはれ = mono no aware = pathos of things.
The occupants of the windowsill in my office, gently gathering webs and dust.
San Francisco, California
SPNP #46: "Make a picture that is funny and sad at the same time. A photograph that simultaneously evokes pathos, irony and humour."
From the back cover:
“The author of GRAND HOTEL brings you , , , AN EXCITING MODERN NOVEL.”
“Writing beautifully, in the swift tempo of life in New York today, Vicki Baum achieves in ‘Mortgage on Life’ what many will consider her most satisfying story since ‘Grand Hotel.’
“When her room-mate and friend, alluring and starry-eyed Marylynn, captured the man she secretly loved, Bess resigned herself to a lifetime of sacrifice . . . except that she couldn’t control her emotions as easily as she thought.
“How these three – Bess, Marylynn, and the brilliant young composer both women loved – moved up the glittering roadway of fame on The Great White Way, only to find that fate had brought them far along other roads as well . . . makes this a never-to-be-forgotten story replete with Vicky Baum’s pathos, dramatic power and insight into the lives of men and women of passion.
“To her millions of readers, Vicki Baum is known as the beloved authoress of ‘Grand Hotel,’ ‘Backstage,’ ‘Once in Vienna,’ ‘Tale of Bali’ and numerous other romances that capture, with charm and pathos, the lives of the glamorous men and women of the world. Austrian-born, Miss Baum for a time resided in this country. She will win hosts of new admirers with this publication of ‘Mortgage of Life.’”
Der interessante Bogenschütze ist eigentlich ein Ehrenmal für die gefallenen Flaksoldaten des ersten Weltkriegs. Das Flakregiment 12 wurde im 2. Weltkrieg nach Stalingrad abkommandiert und ist dort untergegangen. Deshalb wurde das Ehrenmal von Überlebenden auch auf Gefallene des 2. Krieges ausgeweitet.
Die Ausformung als Bogenschütze ist eine ausgefallene Idee, die mit erfreulich wenig Pathos auskommt.
Ah che beltá i nuvoloni....
Così carichi di pathos. Incombenti, maestosi.
Quanto senso di tragico aggiungono ai nostri scatti.
Ma....
Cari nuvoloni è il 31 maggio e avete rotto i Coglioni!!!
This is the large Christain Orthodox church near to the harbour in Pathos. Unfortunately this church stayed locked for 90% of the time and opened only fleetingly for services and weddings. I never managed to catch it open, but I did get the feeling from a few people around the immediate area, that the church authorites would not allow pictures inside anyways....unless you were shooting a wedding.
Bee hive
#muc #munich #münchen #dachauer #pathos #germany #bavaria #bayern #art #streetartgermany #streetart
19 Likes on Instagram
I took a number of photographs of this guy at a festival in Tynemouth down river from Newcastle upon Tyne. I found this guy very sad but also sinister and horrific at the same time. I know at the time that I thought he would be great in a horror film. I made the shot black and white to emphasise the make up but also the lived in look of the clowns face.
A Siren holds a cithara in one hand and raises her right arm above her head in the classic gesture of lamentation. Her expression, one of profound melancholy and pathos, befits her role as a funerary offering and grave good in a tomb from Canosa.
The allure of the Sirens lies not only in their deadly feminine beauty (Hellenistic imagery depicts them exercising their charms, gazing into a mirror, or trying on a necklace) but also in their voices and songs. They inhabit an island at the edge of the world, in the West, near the gates of Hades. With their high, clear singing, they lure sailors, cause their ships to founder against rocky shores, and devour them. Their musical gifts and association with death transformed the Sirens into the "Muses of the Beyond." They are virginal singers, professional mourners in the service of the gods of the underworld. Their words signify both death and life, serving as both a funeral dirge and an enduring testament to the glory of the deceased.
Here, this hybrid creature is envisioned as a "Muse of the Beyond," a virginal singer, and a professional mourner. As a guardian of the tomb, she watches over the sleeper; as an enamored abductor, she eagerly awaits her victims; as a diligent guide, she transports souls to the realm of shadows; as a spirit of privileged knowledge and a dangerous temptress, she offers the immortality of fame. A mourner and singer of póthos (longing), the Siren stands as one of the most haunting images of death and the journey to the afterlife.
Quite a bit of her original pigments survive - pale pink flesh, blue wings, vivid pink chiton, reddish-brown hair, etc.
Greek, 320-300 BCE, from Canosa, Italy.
Height: 39.8 cm (15.67 in.)
Width: 17.0 cm (6.69 in.)
Depth: 15.7 cm (6.18 in.)
Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Madrid, Spain (MAN inv. 2004/95/1)