View allAll Photos Tagged Parable
As in the parable of the blind men and the elephant, close, limited views are interesting but can mislead, in this case deliberately.
This crane was reportedly used to load cobblestones from the numerous quarries in this area onto trains. (One historical source states it was used in the 1870s, but the company that built this crane was founded in Cleveland in 1880, a confusion I hope to clear up with further research.)
When a new commuter rail station was built here in 2009, there was talk of moving the crane to another town, but enough local people were fond of it that it was kept here, across from the station and next to a baseball field. (Evans Filed has its own unique character and story.)
So here is a snapshot view to complete the story told in the last six photos I've posted---the whole elephant, if you will.
(Continuation. Please see the texts of the earliest images of this series – my “letters from the other side”).
Now I’m exploring the possibilities and limits (there’s always limits) of free life in the country which became less free and madder before our eyes of beholders. Not just exploring, but creating it. For me freedom is very creative, artistic thing by definition. Very close to the creative power. To the power of art. Fascinating practice. And I feel the absolute necessity of freedom, even more in circumstances. Also, I feel that we have to re-invent and re-create our freedom every time. Like an art. Like life. Like love.
To be continued…
The Parable of the Sheep and Goats is found in Matthew 25:31-46.
In this parable, Jesus uses the example of a shepherd who separates his sheep from his goats in order to help his followers understand what judgement will be like.
Jesus explains that people will be separated into two groups:
Those who have lived good lives and believed in God will be put on one side and have a place in Heaven
And
Those who have rejected the belief in God and sinned in their lives will be placed on the other side and will go to Hell
-- So much for a kindly God that loves all! The bible is full of contradictions.
The books that make up the Bible were written by various people over a period of more than 1,000 years, between 1200 B.C.E. and the first century C.E. The Bible contains a variety of literary genres, including poetry, history, songs, stories, letters and prophetic writings.
If you are interested here is a link to a web site explaining who and when things got into the bible - or were left out or removed.
High-brow house was furnished well
With many a goblet fair;
So when they brought the Holy Grail,
There was never a space to spare.
Simple cottage was clear and clean,
With room to store at will;
So there they laid the Holy Grail,
And there you’ll find it still.
[Holy Grail A Parable Poem by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle]
a parable is meant for personal application. Mine is that the Holy Grail is found just down from the nose and a bit to the left.
EXPLORE
Book: www.lulu.com/shop/giles-watson/pearl/paperback/product-20...
The story so far: The Dreamer loses his Pearl in a grassy mound - evidently her grave. He swoons with grief, and awakens in an earthly paradise, through which there runs a beautiful stream. The land on the opposite bank seems even more beautiful. He wanders further down the stream, hoping to find a bridge or a ford. Just when he starts to become afraid of the dangers that may be in store for him, he sees a young woman sitting at the foot of a crystal cliff on the opposite bank, and instantly recognises her as his lost Pearl. He hails his Pearl and expresses his relief that she still exists, but she begins to reprove him for his lack of faith. She criticises him for only believing that her soul is immortal now that he can see her, and is shocked by his suggestion that he - a mortal man - has a hope of joining her in Paradise without first experiencing death.
He tells her that for him to walk away from her now that he has found her again would be to suffer a fresh bereavement. She replies that it is divinely decreed that he cannot cross over to her. The Dreamer pleads with his Pearl to accept that his rash questions were borne out of his great grief, and asks her to describe her life in Paradise. She relents, and tells him that she is crowned Queen of Heaven, and is married to the Lamb. The Dreamer is shocked by this assertion. He says that he thought only the Virgin Mary was Queen of Heaven. Pearl replies with a description of a-semi egalitarian heaven in which all inhabitants are kings and queens, and asserts that although Mary has pre-eminence, none of those in heaven would ever question it, because she is so “courteous”. She cites the Pauline notion that the church is the body of Christ in support of her claim.
The Dreamer is even less convinced than before. He wonders how she can have been instantly crowned a Queen of Heaven when she was on the earth for less than two years. She replies at length, citing the parable of the labourers in the vineyard as justification for her rapid advancement in the kingdom of Heaven. She continues to retell the parable, and concludes by insisting that like the workers who worked less than two hours in the vineyard, she was first in line for God’s reward when she reached Heaven. The Dreamer cannot understand. Surely, he argues, those who have endured a lifetime’s pain and temptation must have precedence. She responds that those who die as children die innocent, whereas those who have lived longer are more likely to be tainted by the world, and argues that the Dreamer is underestimating the grace of God. She continues by expounding a series of Biblical texts on the theme of righteousness and justification, culminating with the scene from the gospels in which Christ welcomes the children, and reproves his disciples for attempting to repel them. She continues to expound on this theme, reminding the Dreamer that Christ insisted that one must become like a little child in order to approach him.
The Dreamer admits that she is stupendously beautiful, but wonders how she can have won the title of Queen and bride of Christ, in the face of stiff competition: all those other women who have gone to heaven. Her reply draws upon the Old Testament prophets and the Book of Revelation: the Lamb which was slain in Jerusalem will return to govern the New Jerusalem as its King, with a company of a hundred and forty-four thousand wives – one of whom is the Pearl. She describes the state of bliss experienced by all the brides of the Lamb, and the worship that is offered to him. The Dreamer asks her for a boon: he wants to see the heavenly city or fortress where she lives. She describes the spotless city of the New Jerusalem, and he is so entranced by the glory she describes that he repeats his request to be taken to see it. She grants his request, even though he will not be able to set foot inside the city, and he follows her upstream until he can see the heavenly City. At first, he cannot lift his eyes beyond the twelve tiers at its base, each one wrought of precious stones – with the exception of one, which is fashioned out of pearl. Now, he begins to look up at – and through – the City itself, awed beyond belief by its beauty. He realises that no mortal could ever enter the city and survive its sublime excess – and sees a throng of a hundred thousand and more women, all dressed and jewelled like his Pearl, approaching the throne of God in the company of the Lamb.
Pearl: Part 19
Just as the rising, marvellous moon
Drives the ebbing day-gleams down,
It shakes the very soul of man
To know this City – of rich renown –
Is thronged with retinues of women:
All virgins, wearing the same gowns,
Answering the same unseen summons
As my own bejewelled and blissful one –
And all of them are likewise crowned,
Dripping pearls, and draped in white.
In each one’s breast is firmly clasped
A blissful pearl of great delight.
In great delight they glide together
On golden, glinting, glassy roads;
A hundred thousand of them gather,
All rigged out in matching robes,
Each as radiant as the other.
The splendid Lamb before them rides
With seven horns – a lather
Of priceless pearls encrusts his clothes,
And without clamour, the virgins close
In upon the throne, their ranks all white.
Like maidens at Mass, they rise in rows,
Pouring forth with great delight.
The delight the Lamb’s coming brings
Is too intense for me to tell:
The aldermen, when he arrives,
Swoon at his feet. No pen could spell
Out how that angel-legion throngs,
With thuribles, the delightful smell
Of incense eternally on the rise,
And for that Jewel, their praises swell:
They quake the Earth and cleave Hell.
The virtuous orders of angels smite
My heart. I long to sing as well,
And lose my soul in their delight.
Delighting in the Lamb, I reel,
Rapt in wonder. Just out of reach
He seems: more regal and real
Than prophets could spell out in speech,
His garments all glorious, the seal
Of graciousness upon his face. I search
With wild eyes the wound that spills
His heart’s blood, in a great gush,
The skin so torn. I swoon and lurch,
Sick to think that sin and spite
Thrust in the spear and raised the lash.
Can men do this, and take delight?
And yet, delight is on his face
Despite that open, gushing sore:
The agony has left no trace
On his expression – an exultant stare.
Around him, his retinue of grace,
Lambent with life, enough to sear
My eyes. And there, looking utterly in-place,
My little Queen. Did she stand near
Me in that glade? Christ! I can hear
Her laughter, mingling with the mass, all white.
I must wade these waters, face my fear
With love, and longing for delight.
Late fourteenth century poem, written in a north-west midland dialect of Middle English, paraphrased by Giles Watson.
"A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine."
('Ofelia' and 'Fairy' by NECA / The Guillermo del Toro Signature Collection)
Diorama by RK
Have you heard this parable?
A group of graduates, well established in their careers, were talking at a reunion and decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired. During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress in their work and lives. Offering his guests hot chocolate, the professor went into the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot chocolate and an assortment of cups -porcelain, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help themselves to the hot chocolate. When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, theprofessor said:
"Notice that all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. The cup that you're drinking from adds nothing to the quality of the hot chocolate. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was hot chocolate, not the cup; but you consciously went for the best cups... And then you began eyeing each other's cups.
Now consider this: Life is the hot chocolate; your job, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life. The cup you have does not define, nor change the quality of life you have. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot chocolate God has provided us. God makes the hot chocolate, man chooses the cups. The happiest people don't have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything that they have.
Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
And enjoy your hot chocolate!
EXPLORE # 63 on Saturday, January 26, 2008, in 4.5 hours of uploading; # 61 on 01-27-2008.
... coffee every morning with Max Lucado is my current therapy du jour. That's Lucado with a long "A" and I found that out listening to some of Max's Upwords on his website:
I've resisted the impulse to go to Max's website, highlight and copy some of his best stories and paste them here for you to read. If you want to read Max Lucado, do it the right way. Go buy one of his books or go check one out at your library. You owe it to yourself to take him seriously.
Day before yesterday I had a big grin at one of Max's stories. He tells of going to the church gym to play basketball. The players are made up of a diverse age and size variety, Max calls the "flat bellies" and the "fat bellies."
The flat bellies are agile and admired for their precision moves. They score a high percentage of baskets as the morning workout progresses. They are however, very tolerant and respectful of the fat bellies.
the fat bellies are very respectful of the flat bellies and admire their precision moves, their high basket scores and their youth and vitality.
The flat bellies respect the fat bellies because the fat bellies have the keys to the gymnasium in their pockets.
We all need to go through life remembering who has the keys to the gymnasium in their pocket.
I'd heard this story before, probably in one of Sherry's sermons (she's been reading Max Lucado for years).
Two battleships have been in stormy seas for days on manuevers off the Pacific Coast. In the early morning hours, still stormy with visibility at near zero, the intercom crackles "forward lookout to bridge, there's a light dead ahead." Because of the weather, the Captain has remained on the bridge and responds, "Forward lookout, this is the Captain, keep observing the light and tell me if it moves starboard or port or remains steady. If it remains steady it means we are on collision course."
A little while later the forward lookout reports the light is remaining steady. The captain sends a signalman out who flashes the message. "Light off point bow, change your course twenty degrees." From the light there comes the signal, "You change your course twenty degrees." The captain has the signalman send, "I am the Captain of this vessel and I command you to change your course by twenty degrees." The response comes, "I am a Yeoman 2nd Class and I instruct you to change your course twenty degrees."
Enraged, the Captain has this message sent, "This is a United States Battleship, change your course twenty degrees." From the light comes the response, "This is a lighthouse, change your course twenty degrees."
I don't need to finish this story. But the question that begs being answered is, "How much of our time do we spend demanding that lighthouses change their courses?"
I got Karen's beautiful red sunset shortly after I'd finished my "Coffee with Max" session and this thought came to mind.
An unusually percentage of males have a visual abnormality known in laymen's terms as "red-green color blindness."
During World War II, one of the sad things was the number of qualified young men who wanted to be aircraft pilots, but were color-blind. As I recall, they became bombardiers or navigators or maybe gunners. They can't be policemen. They will live and die and never know what the color "red" looks like.
I've tried to image how you could describe with words the color "red" to someone, to lessen their loss. I haven't even come up with a vague outline.
The question we all need to ask is, "What are our color-blind spots, our blind spots? What are the things we will never be able to fathom because of a flaw in one of the five senses?" If we know ourselves, our strengths (like the keys to the gym in our pocket) and our weaknesses (like color-blindness) and accept them, we'll be better able to deal with life.
The Oak Staircase
Burton Agnes Hall is an Elizabethan manor house in the village of Burton Agnes, between Driffield and Bridlington in the East Riding of Yorkshire. It was built by Sir Henry Griffith in 1601–10 to designs attributed to Robert Smythson.
The house retains a great deal of 17th-century fittings including plaster ceilings and an alabaster overmantel depicting the parable of the Ten Virgins.
"Innocence has a power evil cannot imagine."
('Ofelia' by NECA / The Guillermo del Toro Signature Collection)
Diorama by RK
Now we’re living in the world with an elephant, bigger than this world, staying right in the middle of it (instead of staying beneath of it, like in the Good Old Days). Its name is War, and whenever you go, it’s looking at you, worse than the Big Bro. It has its weight, bigger than the Earth’s, and you feel that you falling and fail to understand why. I’ll tell you why, my friend. It’s because of this elephant in the pretty small room of the Earth is the black hole. And as such, it distorts space and time and our lives. The good news is that it wouldn’t stay forever. And duration of its staying on our beloved Earth, too small for it, and in our time, too short for it, is up to us. This hole is huge, but we are many. And this leaves hope. Which dies last. Or never.
This series is about freedom, like almost all of my works after beginning of this war, now more than a year ago. Because I feel that the freedom is one of the most powerful weapons in this World Anti-war I. The weapon of my choice. As well as an art. Any art. In my case – art of photography.
Once upon a distant incredible pre-war time, Nastya dropped by to make a photo-op with me. She had to catch the train tomorrow, so, she decided to get to my place close to midnight to get it all done bright and early. We set by the fireplace, drank wine and talked a lot. For me, talking is one of the most important components of the photo-art. It’s tuning, time for understanding and discovering each other. Everybody knows that an artists have to understand those heroes, but the heroes have to feel those artists as well. Nastya read the papers, meant to make fire.
In the morning Nastya’s boyfriend, which she kept in touch with the events, called her and told that he is a little uneasy. Girl at the place of some unknown dude, wine, fireplace, you could imagine. Yesterday night he was ok with that, but maybe till that night he has a couple of thematic nightmares. I can't say I blame him. But as an artist, I took this as a challenge. Sort of: you think that my interest wasn’t an art? Okay! And indeed, I made really good photos, which worth Nastya’s and mine time, put together. Maybe even worth an uneasy time of this poor guy.
Today is Nastya’s birthday (happy birthday, my fair sister in arts!) and I made this previously unreleased photo from the night before the photo-op. Which I intend to continue, because I could do better now.
I feel that for now one of the most important things which I could do from here to help to stop this nightmare war – to help other people here in Russia to get rid from false fear (as well as to help myself). Don’t panic! Never surrender! – those old things are still work.
And to help us to remember, when the war on its 4th month seems to withdrew so far away and became so accustomed, something at the background, that it’s still here and still could be stopped. And if we’ll fail… Of course, you saw “Don't Look Up”?
Beautiful model, my good friend and sister in arts – Irinka, @kraskivrukah on Insta. We made another collab, where met different arts, “Give Peace a Chance”. Irinka painted the picture about war and peace in two characters – War and Peace and danced in both characters, I made photo and filmed. So, we had 4 arts – photography, painting, dance and movie. Now we have in mind several more collabs.
(Continuation. Please see the previous images and the story of Dunja In Timelessness series if you feel like that).
(excerpt from my fresh comment on a comment on a comment to this photo; just wanted to share these thoughts with you)
…An objective art (and I consider photography as an art) is contradictio in adjecto, how do you think? Also, all this staff about colors, composition, rhythm (especially rhythm!) etc. is very helpful and expands consciousness of an artist, but, as any theory, is just good instrument of that artist. Once upon a time my friend, good computer master, tried to fix one PC, doing all what was written in his art's books. And failed. He summoned our mutual friend – computer genius. And that genius did something all the contrary any good and proper book. And fixed that PC. But, of course, better to know something about your art and break rules or not, than not to know (and break or not). And to be free, experienced and wise in your ways. And sometimes stupid. Like this famous fool on that legendary hill. And unpredictable if possible. How do you feel about all that?
(To be continued…)
(Continuation. Please see the previous image and the story of Dunja In Timelessness series if you feel like that).
Dunja finally arrived out of the blue – about 2 weeks later, than promised, when she disappeared somewhere between our towns, separated by 100 km. I still don’t know, what happened. Maybe neither Dunja. As I said in the previous post, Dunja is fantastic in every sense.
The night before Dunja’s surprise arriving I had a bit of insomnia, so I just played music all night long. And before to go to sleep somewhere about 8 a. m. saw Dunja’s message that she will come several hours later if I don’t mind. I was all for it. So, I just tried to sleep on the little hayloft in my garden, which I made specially for siestas. And then Dunja was there, and the feast began. Dunja haven’t too much time, but we happily slipped away in Timeless. Which seems just natural for me.
(To be continued…)
For more places that don't exist visit my construct set
Prints now available for most
of the imaginary walls
on my imagekind
(Continuation. Please see the previous images and the story of Dunja In Timelessness series if you feel like that).
A while ago, one hitchhiker stayed at my place. I do like to receive travelers. He asked, how much RAM do I have. I clicked at “my computer” and was surprised to learn, that it’s just 4GB (I thought that it was 8, which also isn’t that much). It turned out, that the master, who fixed my computer, installed this quantity instead of an outdated 8GB, which I had previously. So, I got 16 now – and still celebrating. One of the 1st things, which I did with the new memory, is this photo. Then I re-imagined it again. Also, yesterday we talked in insta about Spanish movies, and I discovered, that I’m almost forget them all, except for Agustín Díaz Yanes’s “Sin noticias de Dios”, which is one of the movies re-watched most often. I discovered here Victoria Abril, Penélope Cruz and Gael García Bernal – 3 of my favorite Spanish actors at one go, that was something! It could be my high time for return to the Spanish cinema. Starting with “Volver”, perhaps. I’d love to re-watch Carlos Saura’s “Carmen” with divine Paco de Lucía, but don’t sure that I’ll be able to. Also, I recall now, that I wanted to see “Competencia oficial”, and didn’t yet. And which Spanish movies, directors and actors do you like?
(to be continued…)
(Continuation. See the texts of the earliest images of this series. I've uploaded the whole series on insta, but without this texts)
...Sometimes we have some good news. More restrictions – more creativity. Now in Russia you could be arrested just for the word “Peace”. So today in Moscow, near the Lubyanka metro station, famous because of the FSB headquarters, a man stands with a “Mir” bank card (the system now replacing Visa and Mastercard and translated as “Peace”: it was made before the war). The cops can't decide what to do with him.
To be continued…
I want to speak more about these dark times, to show, to see and to learn myself. To do something together to get out of the dark. Preferably alive and sane. Now my photo art become the “photo-diary from the other side”. I’m very welcome you to stay in touch with me on Insta, which now turned to the main site of the Digital Resistance in Russia in spite of becoming the outlaw social media or maybe partly because of that.
Yesterday from our garden we saw 3 big airplanes, flying low, wing to wing, just like in my nightmares. So now I suppose that I know which way is Ukraine. And yesterday we went past local airborne base and saw destroyed hangar and 3 people in civil clothes peacefully drank nearby. And it was like the portal from the future, when war is over. Life is always win, that’s all my hopes.
(Continuation. Please see the texts of the earliest images of this series – my “letters from the other side”).
Did you ever tried to live on the other side of the looking glass? What would you do if you will?
Till we’ll find out (or maybe not), I’ll continue my anti-war experiences, and what I want now is to give my countrymen more feeling of freedom. I’m trying to do this, creating these fairytales. To make art. To live even more free life than I did before the war.
To be continued…
(Continuation. Please see the texts of the earliest images of this series – my “letters from the other side”).
Right this morning I discovered that I’ve achieved the level of freedom, that turn my photos into what I want them to be. Fairytale – OK, fairytale then, the anti-war tool – then anti-war tool they’ll be. I am not even having something special in mind, when I’m making photo session. Just want to make something extremely free, beautiful, not common etc. Just the real stuff.
New co-creation with by my fair friend and wife Mariya Tokareva. There she made some miracles with the color palette, helping me to achieve these complex emotions which I wanted to convey.
This beautiful model, my good friend and sister in arts (she’s a painter and tattoo master) – Irinka, @kraskivrukah on Insta. Several days ago, she found out that her ex-husband, father of her little girl, died 40 days ago. She thought, that he fought against Ukraine. No one wanted to tell her the truth, though his friends new it for sure. There’s the secret war. Now they are threatening to prosecute people even for the quotation marks when they using those term for it, like this: “special military operation”. Just for the quotation marks. Not to say for using the word “war”. And I’m still wonder, why.
To be continued…
Parable of the Wheat and Weeds
Here is another story Jesus told: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a farmer who planted good seed in his field. But that night as the workers slept, his enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat, then slipped away. When the crop began to grow and produce grain, the weeds also grew.
“The farmer’s workers went to him and said, ‘Sir, the field where you planted that good seed is full of weeds! Where did they come from?’
“‘An enemy has done this!’ the farmer exclaimed.
“‘Should we pull out the weeds?’ they asked.
“‘No,’ he replied, ‘you’ll uproot the wheat if you do. 30 Let both grow together until the harvest. Then I will tell the harvesters to sort out the weeds, tie them into bundles, and burn them, and to put the wheat in the barn.’”
Night-time reflections of head- and tail-lights on the roughly polished surface of a stainless steel sculpture. Photographed in Linz, Upper Austria.
Colour and contrast processed with pp tools in the PENTAX K-1, with some slight shading added in the lower corners in SilkyPix Developer Studio Pro 9.
HSS!
"The Burning Fiery Furnace" is the title of a Parable for Church Performance by the English composer Benjamin Britten, based on the Old Testament story of Nebuchadnezzar.
In order to rise
From its own ashes
A phoenix
First
Must
Burn
Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Talents
Several days ago my friend Lyosha wrote me, that he’s travelling home to Voronezh from the Russian Rainbow and could drop by. Which he did on 3 days. He lived in the woods about 1 month with no connection to the outside world, his parents report his missing to the police. Tough life with the parents. I briefed him about the current course of the war. He hoped that it could be over – in vain, but the news was good anyway. Recently I’ve read, that maybe first time in half century the people of one country are all for the army of the other country, with which those state and its army are at war, rejoicing victories of this other army, donates this army and wish own army and own state the fastest defeat. At one day Lyosha decided to make gin-tonic from gin, grapefruit and juniper berries. There’re juniper trees at the nearby cemetery, where we went, grabbed the bottle of gin with us. I introduced Lyosha to my granny, we played her a little concerto for the blues harp and tin whistle and drank gin-tonic to her memory. Earlier in these days Lyosha asked me to make photo of him to change the avatar at social network. Which I did right at the cemetery. Lyosha like it, I too. Now he’s hitchhiking to Voronezh through Vladimir.
(Continuation. See the texts of the earliest images of this series. The whole images from these series are already on my insta and behance www.behance.net/gallery/140662555/Give-Peace-a-Chance-%28..., but without these texts)
8th-graders in Penza, Russia snitched on the teacher because of her words about the war in Ukraine. I'm all for now.
To be continued…
I want to speak more about these dark times, to show, to see and to learn myself. To do something together to get out of this dark. Alive and sane if possible. Now my photo art become the “photo-diary from the other side”, “from the stolen country”. I’m very welcome you to stay in touch with me on Insta, which now turned to the main site of the Digital Resistance in Russia in spite of becoming the outlaw social media or maybe partly because of that.
(Continuation. Please see the texts of the earliest images of this series – my “letters from the other side”).
So, let’s return to our Alice In The Dark. Good title for my new not-that-fairy-tale, eh? I’ve invented it right now and immediately decided to rename the whole series. That’s the 3rd name for it. It’s changing in the dark.
…maybe all of us are living in some not-that-wonder-land, outer to some “real” and “normal” one? Of course, you, in an outer world from here, much less dark (except my countrymen), much less than us. Your state (who’s this “state”?) didn’t waged war with people behind next fence, your own flesh and blood. Almost all of us have Ukrainian blood in our veins. We’re talking about it in these days. And those big shots aren’t even call it war. For the best in a way: they couldn’t call people to war which officially isn’t exist. It’s illegal here to call this war “war”. Your lives are much more normal. But I feel that the whole world is somehow trying to grope the way in the dark, when the normal life is far behind. Since when? I don’t know, I didn’t notice. What do you think about it? How do you feel about it?
To be continued…
(Continuation. Please see the previous images and the texts of this series if you feel like that).
Hi, people from the Free World (and from the world which is doing its best to be free)! You see, how right now the History is back – otherwise, as always, and all of us, good Russians, bad Russians, dead and soon-to-be dead Russians, are going through our own Vietnam? And, as it was in the good old days, the big chaos is all over the country.
Recently I recalled what was said about the apocalyptic times, that some people wouldn’t notice it. They would live those own lives. Pretty usual. I don’t think that there’s the last days already, but the point is interesting.
(To be continued…)
…Because they saw so much already…
Meet Yulia Ganja, closest friend from my inmost circle, filmmaker, founder of night forest film festival, philosopher, sister in arts, member of our duo «Поехали!» (“Let's go”, as Yuri Gagarin said; there’s one more meaning in this band name – “Go crazy!”). We rarely see each other: our towns aren’t that close and to break out of all our activities and homes is mutually not easy. Though once I celebrated my birthday the whole week with her as my only guest most of that time: she dropped by for my birthday and stayed a bit longer, and so we celebrated the week through. Played a lot of music, saw a lot of movies, hanged around the town like two Flying Dutchmans (we both are fast walkers), baked bread in my big Russian oven, met sunrise on the roof, went to the forest, analyzed Hesse's “The Glass Bead Game” (Yulia wrote a play based on it for the philosophical club, which she attended that time), made gigabytes of photo- and video- footage, and on and on. Recently Yulia wrote me, asked how am I, I’ve answered and threw her a link to my page at Flickr. Yulia answered, that she got stuck in, that my photos are magical, she got to the earliest and even in them saw "such a lines and threats". I’m still thrilled and speechless after that answer. So, I made this photo. By the way, Yulia was surprised, that she’s on my cover photo on my Flickr page (that’s for ages and I don’t intend to change it; I’m serious regarding the cover photos), on which you could see, how the things were the moment before falling apart. It’s so incredibly good to have such close and beautiful friends!
mi tsukushita
me wa shiragiku ni
modori keri
"My eyes,
Which had seen all, come back,
Back to the white chrysanthemums"
(The 5th of 6 images from the series. The whole tale is on my insta, but once again without these texts).
I’ve noticed: the closer is the death, the more acute you feel life. And the death is everywhere here, even if the bombs and missiles aren’t falling right here, in Russia, in the centre of cyclone, at the other side of the war. And love, and the sense of humour (which in my case is darken now, like many noble and precious things) are deepens as well. BTW, You Want It Darker is one of my favourite albums. Do you like it?
To be concluded…
(Continuation. See the texts of the earliest images of this series. The whole images from these series are already on my insta and behance www.behance.net/gallery/140662555/Give-Peace-a-Chance-%28..., but without these texts)
I feel that in this month and something from the war's inception I lived more than in a years. It just I didn’t live… The war is as if it’s just broke out and is there for ages…
To be continued…
I want to speak more about these dark times, to show, to see and to learn myself. To do something together to get out of this dark. Alive and sane if possible. Now my photo art become the “photo-diary from the other side”, “from the stolen country”. I’m very welcome you to stay in touch with me on Insta, which now turned to the main site of the Digital Resistance in Russia in spite of becoming the outlaw social media or maybe partly because of that.
Check out the beginning of my new big project! I’ve took those photos ages ago, before the war, by urgent Orina’s ask to create some visuals for her newest music release. Result was crazy enough, that’s why right now I’m beginning to fall in love with it, but far back in time I somehow made some 3 photos (and gave Orina all the raw footage). Art moves in mysterious ways, so here and now we are.
Now I’m dreaming about sharing all the things which are seriously on my mind and to find several friends which could be really interesting in things which are happens in my head. Pretty common dream, I suppose. I’m working on it more than a decade and a half (my first nick, on LiveJournal, was 2006romka, because the nick romka was of course occupied, so I added the current year and till that time I’m on social media, long enough, maybe too long). But the forms, which I dream about, are changing. And I’m still in finding a place or community where my dreams could come true. Here on Flickr I’ve found some real friends who are really interested in my art (thank you so much!!!). But maybe not enough of two-way communication. I assume that that’s the problem of all the social networks. As well as of the communication in the “real life”. Pretty often it seems not deep enough. Not real enough. But I'm not giving up hope.
(Continuation. Please see the texts of the earliest images of this series – my “letters from the other side”).
Pope asked to stop thinking about this war as it’s the Red Riding Hood fairytale. He’s cool and I’m thinking about his words. About some special effects of war – simplification, turning the reality into the bad dream, conformation to it like in “Perfectly Numb”, the boundaries of these things and the possibility of the reverse effect, of the way back from this not-that-wonder-land. When we’ll get back, Alice? Where we’ll get back?
To be continued…
1000 years ago, Sleeping Beauty was kissed by a prince, which removed a terrible curse from the kingdom. The rampant briars were held at bay, but the poor princess was left in her slumber. Follow a modern day detective as he travels to Edinburgh, Scotland, and attempts to end the curse once and for all in Dark Parables: Curse of Briar Rose. Dive into this eerie Hidden Object Adventure game and save Sleeping Beauty today!
The old parable says if you want your house to last build your foundation on stone not sand but Gerace managed to do both with its people founding the town on a 500m sandstone butte. Along with 15 other beautiful Calabrian villages Gerace is named to the list of the most gorgeous borgo’s in Italy and deservedly so as I hope that I have demonstrated in some small part with this series. Gerace was also my first introduction to Bergamot which we took to quickly after our first taste, we stopped at Sapiri e Sapuri that has local products buying anything that had Bergamot in it, special thanks to the kind lady that kept me from tasting the bath salts 😉
I took this on Sept 16th 2023 with my D850 and Tamron 24-70mm f2.8 G2 Lens at 29mm, 1/250s, f3.2 ISO 800 processed in LR, PS +Lumenzia ,Topaz, and DXO
Disclaimer: My style is a study of romantic realism and still a work in progress
Young Tobias and Angel Raphael
During the time of the Assyrian Captivity, a righteous man named Tobias lives with his wife, Anna, and their son, Tobias, in Ninive. He comforts and gives alms to his fellow Jews, risking death at the hands of the authorities for his refusal to leave the dead unburied. While sleeping one day, Tobias is blinded by falling bird dung. In a parallel story, Sara, the daughter of Raguel of Rages, is married seven times but cannot consummate the unions, because her husbands are killed on their wedding night by the demon, Asmodeus. Tobias and Sara beseech God for healing and deliverance, and the Angel Raphael is sent in answer to their prayers. He assumes the identity of a traveler, named Azarias, and offers to accompany the Young Tobias, when he sets out to receive payment for a debt from his kinsman, Gabelus, who also lives in the city of Rages. Source Bible stories and parables.
Artist Nadège Fortuné.
My once upon a time close friend Sonya celebrated her birthday yesterday. Maybe she’s my close friend now, I just don’t know: hadn't seen her in years, though invited many times on home concerts or when our mutual friend visited me from Haifa incognito (there was forgotten lockdown times and I wouldn’t tell his name). To wish Sonya happy birthday, I got some old photos from the storerooms at my ssd and re-edited them. You could check the difference in my style at my album Sonya, or better don’t. This very photo is absent at the album for reasons unknown. That way I met myself from 2014, when I was momentarily desperately in love with Sonya (@sofitsa0_o on insta) and she wasn’t much against it, but soon preferred to be friends with my then girlfriend (we separated soon, after 6 years, and Sonya has nothing to do with that, it would be anyway). For Sonya there was mutually exclusive things and she chose the best. But before this hard choice (at least for me) we’re almost every day went to the djembe studio “Jam Beats United” at the abandoned factory, taught by my good friend and then shared the bottle of wine for two, preferably on that very roof. Sonya was Estonian hippie, good poet and rock-singer, had her own band and once made me “an intimate offer”, as she had put it, to arrange one of her songs, which I did. At one of our talks about the wine Sonya pierced my heart with the story about death of her lover in her arms and that’s how I fell in love – from the deepest empathy.
What a glorious days there was! But, as sang our rock-legend Mike Naumenko (group “Zoopark”, means Zoo), “You didn’t become a wife, I didn’t become a star”, and life goes on. Now Sonya changed her wonderful, very Bulgarian surname Stoyanova on Ivanovskaya, but left her wonderful name Sonya which she previously officially changed from Sasha, which just didn’t fit her. Happy birthday, dear Sonya!
Number 12 for 121 Pictures in 2021 : Book first published in 1921 or earlier
A present to my mother at Christmas when she was 7.