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This HYBYCOZO sculpture is titled Insight and is on the Plants & People of the Sonoran Desert Trail by the Saguaro Harvesting Ramada. This is the view looking out from the sculpture.
Insight 2018
Stainless Steel, Powder Coat Pigment, LED
This geometric sculpture is inspired by the non-repeating patterns found on rare minerals, such as meteorites. Step inside this immersive artwork, featuring 60 sides covered in intricate patterns, to experience the beauty and complexity of science, mathematics, and nature.
dbg.org/events/light-bloom/2024-10-12/
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFelgzzzQqg
LIGHT BLOOM by HYBYCOZO is a limited-time exhibit where nature and light converge. This mesmerizing display invites you to explore the Garden transformed by stunning geometric light installations that illuminate the beauty of the desert landscape in a new way. As the sun sets, LIGHT BLOOM comes to life, casting intricate shadows and vibrant hues across the Garden. Wander the trails and let the enchanting installations transport you to a magical realm where the natural world meets the abstract.
HYBYCOZO is the collaborative studio of artists Serge Beaulieu and Yelena Filipchuk. Based in Los Angeles, their work consists of larger than life geometric sculptures, often with pattern and texture that draw on inspirations from mathematics, science, and natural phenomena. Typically illuminated, the work celebrates the inherent beauty of form and pattern and represents their ongoing journey in exploring the myriad dimensions of geometry. HYBYCOZO is short for the Hyperspace Bypass Construction Zone, a nod to their favorite novel (The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy) and was the title of their first installation in 2014. They continue to create under this name. In the novel earth was being destroyed to make way for a bypass. It lead Serge and Yelena to ask what it means to make art at a time where the earth’s hospitable time in the universe may be limited.
dbg.org/meet-the-artists-behind-light-bloom/
Q: Walk us through your creative process?
A: The focus of our creative process is to explore the intricate interplay between geometry, light, space and to inspire contemplation, wonder and a sense of place among our audiences. Geometry and pattern-making serve as the backbone of our creative expression. It is the framework through which we navigate the complexities of form, proportion and spatial relationships. Patterns, both simple and complex, have a profound impact on our perception and understanding of the world. They possess the ability to evoke a sense of order, balance and aesthetic pleasure. Pattern making and geometry offer us a means of storytelling and communication. These patterns serve as conduits for deeper exploration, provoking introspection and contemplation to uncover the underlying symbols embedded within the human psyche.
Q: What inspired the concept of LIGHT BLOOM?
A: Just as many cactus and desert plants have evolved to produce night-blooming flowers, adapting to their environment and thriving in darkness, our sculptures come alive after sunset, blossoming with light and transforming the night into a glowing landscape of art and geometry.
Desert Botanical Garden has an incredible collection of plants and cacti arranged in a beautiful park setting.
"Think the desert is all dirt and tumbleweeds? Think again. Desert Botanical Garden is home to thousands of species of cactus, trees and flowers from all around the world spread across 55 acres in Phoenix, Arizona."
Desert Botanical Garden
DBG HYBYCOZO Light Bloom
An inquisitive and innocent 11 year old me on Halloween. I had not thought of a Halloween costume so mom came to the rescue using my cousins dress, applied some cosmetics, and pinned her wig onto my hair. At this point in my life I had only fooled around with some panties. After the dress and makeup was on she gave me some black sheer pantyhose with some instruction how to put them on. So I went to my room and slipped off my boys shorts under the dress and replaced them with red bikini panties I had and put the pantyhose on. I absolutely loved seeing my refection in the mirror and when I came downstairs I hammed it up with this pose for her camera!
She drove me to the school gymnasium where the Halloween party was and dropped me off. I was more thrilled than nervous to be out dressed like this and when I went in I saw a girl that lived in neighborhood, Michelle, and said hello. She didn't recognize me until I told her who I was ! She said I looked really good and I kind of stayed next to her during the party. When our mom's came to pick us up Michelle asked if I wanted to go trick or treating for candy with her when we got back home and I said sure! Walking around the neighborhood I don't think any of the people we knocked on doors actually knew it was me! Michelle walked me home and mom went through my candy and decided what I could keep to eat. I spent the rest of the evening in this dress and think I loved every second of it! As you can imagine it left a rather profound effect on me!
Valley of Color ~ Wildflowers (mule ears and lupine)
Antelope Flats Road ~ Teton County, Wyoming U.S.A.
Entered in the TMI Group August Contest: "August Abundance"
www.flickr.com/groups/impressionists/discuss/721576712719...
2nd Place Competition Winner ~ Fauna & Flora Group ~ Jan 2014
www.flickr.com/groups/fauna_and_flora_group/discuss/72157...
3rd Place Competition Winner ~ TMI Group ~ August 2016
www.flickr.com/groups/impressionists/discuss/721576723394...
2nd Place Competition Winner - Daarklands Group - 10/10/23 Theme: Fields and Meadows
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(From the National Park Service website) :
"Lunch Tree Hill, just a short hike from Jackson Lake Lodge, is a great spot for a picnic with a view. This vista overlooks several acres of willows that offer great wildlife viewing and an unobstructed panorama of the Teton Range.
Beyond the magnificent view and great wildlife viewing, this place is special because of a significant historical event that happened here.
This story begins with Horace Albright, the first National Park Service Superintendent of Yellowstone, who was well known for his love of the Teton Range and his dream to preserve it along with the Jackson Hole valley. A fortuitous visit to the Yellowstone area by the Rockefeller family, recounted below, proved to be just what Albright needed to germinate his master plan.
The summer of 1926 found John D. Rockefeller, Jr., his wife and three children, again journeying to the West. After a visit to the Southwest and California, in July they arrived at Yellowstone for a twelve day stay. Soon Albright was motoring his guests south to the Teton country. The first day they picnicked on a hill (now "Lunch Tree Hill" adjacent to Jackson Lake Lodge) overlooking Jackson Lake. Five moose browsed contentedly in the marsh below them. Across the lake spread the majestic Teton Range. It was a day and a view destined to have a lasting impression on Rockefeller."
"The following morning they continued south towards Jackson. Rockefeller and his wife were profoundly impressed by the Leigh-String-Jenny Lake region, but were appalled by the encroaching commercialism. A rather tawdry dancehall seemed inappropriate, "unsightly structures" marred the road, and telephone wires bisected the Teton view. Jackson Hole seemed destined for the ubiquitous uglification coincidental with unplanned tourist development. Mrs. Rockefeller was particularly irate and asked if anything could be done. Visual abuse led to verbal communication and soon Albright was sharing his ideas. Returning to Yellowstone, they stopped at Hedricks Point, a bluff overlooking the Snake River which afforded a magnificent view in all directions. It was here that Albright revealed the concerns of the Maud Noble cabin meeting three years earlier, and the plan to save not only the mountains but much of the valley spread out before them. Although Rockefeller was noncommittal, he listened intently to Horace Albright's account of the efforts to save the valley."
"When Rockefeller signaled his desire to purchase the whole northern valley, it was a remarkable turn of fortune. … Within a few days after receiving the material, Rockefeller gave his approval in a letter … to purchase 'the entire Jackson Hole Valley with a view to its being ultimately turned over to the Government for joint or partial operation by the Department of Park and the Forestry Department.'"
With Rockefeller's help, Albright's dream would eventually become a reality.
Native American Proverb
Their future is in our hands.
FGR wanted us to get deep and meaningful today with Profound Photography.
Dedicated to my friends who had a baby girl this afternoon - yay! Welcome to the world baby Audrey.
Thanks to borealnz for the texture.
Nature fascinates so profoundly, these lovely, beautiful flowers were presented in my yard by nature, the very same nature that has introduced Covid-19. Do enjoy this side of nature as I did today. Note the deep pine pollen still on the leaves.
The artist sees the profound beauty in every day. She takes note of the small blessings and of the grand divine. Her visions and imagination transform and evolve until they pour out in the work she shares. Through her artistry she gives meaning to our lives and inspires in us all, an appreciation of the enchanting nature of our world.
4:52 Abstract and Conceptual
This image was inspired by the work of Chris.ph. To view this talented artist's photo stream, visit
flic.kr/ps/2ud1hE
The source images are from:
www.flickr.com/photos/97556096@N06/31933579826/in/photost...
flic.kr/p/VShisf
flic.kr/p/MBMvXE
All images subject to copyright.
In a picturesque Akha village nestled in Chiang Rai's rolling hills, a lady in traditional Akha attire captivates with her timeless elegance. Adorned in vibrant fabrics and intricate silver jewelry, she embodies the Akha hill tribe's rich cultural heritage, which traces its origins from China with Tibetan roots.
Against the backdrop of wooden walls of their traditional huts, her serene presence speaks volumes of the community's enduring traditions and close-knit ties to the land. With a gaze that reflects both grace and ancient wisdom, she invites us to glimpse into a world where vibrant colors and profound history converge seamlessly.
Copyright© Firdaus Mahadi 2010 | View Large!
"I'm realized by when we do things that are useful and helpful, collecting the shards of spirituality, towards the mastery of natural divinity and the healing of emotional mind may be helping to bring a profound healing"
Location : Pengkalan Balak, Masjid Tanah, Melaka, Malaysia
Tech details: Vertorama of 2 exposures using ACR (Adobe Camera Raw), one for the sky & one for the foreground. No tonemapped HDR.
Related images:
Please don't post here any awards, glitter text, images, and group invite
I sit and think some profound thoughts....
Does your chewing gum lose it's flavour on the bedpost overnight?
Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?
Why do women wear evening gowns to nightclubs? Shouldn't they be wearing nightgowns?
If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?
If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked and dry cleaners depressed?
Makeup and styling by Kelayla.
IMG_7239
8 Aug 18
Yūgen: a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe.
Credit:
Decor: Serenity Style- Cute Gingerbread Figures (gacha) @Arcade
Decor: # 187# Xmas Time GACHA (joy figures & deer) @Arcade
Decor: 22769 - Christmas Tree &Leather Stormlight, Christmas Spirit Home, joy (Gacha) @Arcade
House: Hisa - Hus Pa Landet SNOW@Mainstore
Trees:
Little Branch- Conifer.v3, Douglas Fir Tree, Jeffrey Pine
HISA - Winter shrubbery and grass @mainstore
Snow Mounds: Konoha - Meiji Snowscape @Mainstore
:FANATIK: Glaciers, Icebergs and Ice Plates @Mainstore
:FANATIK: LAND SHAPES Island @Mainstore
Free, profound, independent, her style is her own. It's personal, existential. Her only fear is convention. Her only weakness, jewelry. The roman nose adds character, the scar on her forehead adds strength, the curls in her hair add attitude. There is no such thing as imperfection, just originality.
Meh. I have no motivation or crafty ideas at all, so I hope this profound statement changes your life.
Movietime!
Hi everyone. While I have a profound fondness for photography, my ultimate passion is still moviemaking.
This is pretty much the reason for my missing in action these past 2 weeks. I managed to wrap this up in a week and a half with another animator at my company and was on a plane to Johannesburg last week thursday & friday for the Promax/BDA Africa Awards event. There were some great conferences in promo channel IDs from the likes of Comedy Central, Discovery Channel and Channel 4, not to mention a host of others. Plus, our company walked away with 2 Gold as well as 2 Silver BDA trophies for work entered this year! Needless to say......some big celebrating was undertaken....(no pics of these to be posted however) ;)
So, for your entertainment or perusal, follow the link to view the opening sequence that my fellow colleague and I created for this year's event.
You might also remember a poster I did a while back for it as well.
(hope it's alright...cringe-cringe)
enjoy...
;)
for such a profound display of shared heart, joy, commitment, and imagination fueled by powerfully important purpose year after year. No matter the amount raised (although $95K USD this year...there are no words)
It's an incredible honor to be a Fairelander. And even though this year's event is completed, I hold this truth safe in my heart that Dawn also rises.
A beautiful day to start the year and for enjoying a long afternoon walk by the beach.
I haven't really got any wild plans nor profound words of wisdom to begin the New Year. To be honest I'm always a little melancholy and somewhat daunted by the onset of a whole new year. I just hope we learn to do more and be kinder to one another.
much more than just profound sadness...it is certainly that but also lead weight on your heart, a maze of pain, a prison with holes too small to squeeze through. and there is no way out, without help. my thoughts and prayers to the family and friends of robin williams......it is not an easy thing to witness. many people become angry at depressed people because they feel helpless.....and because they think it is a matter of will power. and they are wrong.
It is the Distinguished Company at the Bijou Planks!
Today we see Alexander Graham Bell. Bell was a Scottish-born inventor, scientist, and engineer who is credited with inventing and patenting the first practical telephone. He also co-founded the American Telephone and Telegraph Company (AT&T) in 1885.
Bell's father, grandfather, and brother had all been associated with work on elocution and speech and both his mother and wife were deaf, profoundly influencing Bell's life's work. His research on hearing and speech further led him to experiment with hearing devices which eventually culminated in Bell being awarded the first U.S. patent for the telephone, on March 7, 1876.
Bell considered his invention an intrusion on his real work as a scientist and refused to have a telephone in his study.
Many other inventions marked Bell's later life, including groundbreaking work in optical telecommunications, hydrofoils, and aeronautics. Although Bell was not one of the 33 founders of the National Geographic Society, he had a strong influence on the magazine while serving as the second president from January 7, 1898, until 1903.
Alexander Graham Bell, a distinguished individual!
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A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
NEW: I NOW CREATE MUSIC, JOIN ME ON SOUNDCLOUD!
SHOP: www.icanvas.com/canvas-art-prints/artist/ben-heine
"The Silence of the Village" was my first title for this image. I captured this peaceful scenery in Saint Léon. It's a very quite place in the South West of France. A must see if you ever travel in this region...
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For more information about my art: info@benheine.com
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The Deserted Village
A poem by Oliver Goldsmith
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,
Where smiling spring its earliest visits paid,
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed:
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,
Seats of my youth, where every sport could please,
How often have I loitered o'er your green,
Where humble happiness endeared each scene;
How often have I paused on every charm,
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made;
How often have I blessed the coming day,
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,
And all the village train, from labour free,
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree:
While many a pastime circled in the shade,
The young contending as the old surveyed;
And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;
And still as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired;
The dancing pair that simply sought renown
By holding out to tire each other down!
The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,
While secret laughter tittered round the place;
The bashful virgin's sidelong look of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:
These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,
With sweet succession, taught even toil to please;
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,
These were thy charms -But all these charms are fled.
Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen,
And desolation saddens all thy green:
One only master grasps the whole domain,
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain:
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
But choked with sedges works its weedy way.
Along thy glades, a solitary guest,
The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Sunk are thy bowers, in shapeless ruin all,
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall;
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand,
Far, far away, thy children leave the land.
Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates, and men decay:
Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroyed can never be supplied.
A time there was, ere England's griefs began,
When every rood of ground maintained its man;
For him light labour spread her wholesome store,
Just gave what life required, but gave no more:
His best companions, innocence and health;
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
But times are altered; trade's unfeeling train
Usurp the land and dispossess the swain;
Along the lawn, where scattered hamlet's rose,
Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose,
And every want to opulence allied,
And every pang that folly pays to pride.
Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,
Those calm desires that asked but little room,
Those healthful sports that graced the peaceful scene,
Lived in each look, and brightened all the green;
These, far departing, seek a kinder shore,
And rural mirth and manners are no more.
Sweet Auburn! parent of the blissful hour,
Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power.
Here as I take my solitary rounds,
Amidst thy tangling walks and ruined grounds,
And, many a year elapsed, return to view
Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew,
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
In all my wanderings round this world of care,
In all my griefs -and God has given my share -
I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;
To husband out life's taper at the close,
And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,
Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill,
Around my fire an evening group to draw,
And tell of all I felt and all I saw;
And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,
I still had hopes, my long vexations passed,
Here to return -and die at home at last.
O blest retirement, friend to life's decline,
Retreats from care, that never must be mine,
How happy he who crowns in shades like these
A youth of labour with an age of ease;
Who quits a world where strong temptations try,
And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly!
For him no wretches, born to work and weep,
Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep;
No surly porter stands in guilty state
To spurn imploring famine from the gate;
But on he moves to meet his latter end,
Angels round befriending Virtue's friend;
Bends to the grave with unperceived decay,
While Resignation gently slopes the way;
All, all his prospects brightening to the last,
His Heaven commences ere the world be past!
Sweet was the sound when oft at evening's close
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;
There, as I passed with careless steps and slow,
The mingling notes came softened from below;
The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung,
The sober herd that lowed to meet their young;
The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool,
The playful children just let loose from school;
The watchdog's voice that bayed the whisp'ring wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind;
These all in sweet confusion sought the shade,
And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
But now the sounds of population fail,
No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale,
No busy steps the grass-grown footway tread,
For all the bloomy flush of life is fled.
All but yon widowed, solitary thing,
That feebly bends beside the plashy spring;
She, wretched matron, forced in age for bread
To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread,
To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn,
To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn;
She only left of all the harmless train,
The sad historian of the pensive plain.
Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden flower grows wild;
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place;
Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power,
By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,
More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain;
The long remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talked the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won.
Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And e'en his failings leaned to Virtue's side;
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watched and wept, he prayed and felt, for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed,
The reverend champion stood. At his control
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorned the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
The service passed, around the pious man,
With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran;
Even children followed with endearing wile,
And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile.
His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed,
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.
As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way,
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay,
There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule,
The village master taught his little school;
A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew;
Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned;
Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declared how much he knew;
'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,
And even the story ran that he could gauge.
In arguing too, the parson owned his skill,
For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still;
While words of learned length and thundering sound
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around,
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew
That one small head could carry all he knew.
But past is all his fame. The very spot
Where many a time he triumphed is forgot.
Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high,
Where once the signpost caught the passing eye,
Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired,
Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retired,
Where village statesmen talked with looks profound,
And news much older than their ale went round.
Imagination fondly stoops to trace
The parlour splendours of that festive place:
The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnished clock that clicked behind the door;
The chest contrived a double debt to pay, -
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day;
The pictures placed for ornament and use,
The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose;
The hearth, except when winter chilled the day,
With aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay;
While broken teacups, wisely kept for show,
Ranged o'er the chimney, glistened in a row.
Vain transitory splendours! Could not all
Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall!
Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart
An hour's importance to the poor man's heart;
Thither no more the peasant shall repair
To sweet oblivion of his daily care;
No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale,
No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail;
No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear,
Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear;
The host himself no longer shall be found
Careful to see the mantling bliss go round;
Nor the coy maid, half willing to be pressed,
Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.
Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,
These simple blessings of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.
Spontaneous joys, where Nature has its play,
The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway;
Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind,
Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined:
But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,
With all the freaks of wanton wealth arrayed,
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain;
And, even while fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy.
Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay,
'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand
Between a splendid and a happy land.
Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore,
And shouting Folly hails them from her shore;
Hoards even beyond the miser's wish abound,
And rich men flock from all the world around.
Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name
That leaves our useful products still the same.
Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor supplied;
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds,
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds;
The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth
Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth;
His seat, where solitary sports are seen,
Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;
Around the world each needful product flies,
For all the luxuries the world supplies:
While thus the land adorned for pleasure, all
In barren splendour feebly waits the fall.
As some fair female unadorned and plain,
Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,
Slights every borrowed charm that dress supplies,
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes;
But when those charms are passed, for charms are frail,
When time advances and when lovers fail,
She then shines forth, solicitous to bless,
In all the glaring impotence of dress.
Thus fares the land, by luxury betrayed,
In nature's simplest charms at first arrayed;
But verging to decline, its splendours rise,
Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;
While, scourged by famine, from the smiling land
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;
And while he sinks, without one arm to save,
The country blooms -a garden, and a grave.
Where then, ah! where, shall poverty reside,
To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride?
If to some common's fenceless limits strayed,
He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade,
Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide,
And even the bare-worn common is denied.
If to the city sped -what waits him there?
To see profusion that he must not share;
To see ten thousand baneful arts combined
To pamper luxury, and thin mankind;
To see those joys the sons of pleasure know
Extorted from his fellow creature's woe.
Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade,
There the pale artist plies the sickly trade;
Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps display,
There the black gibbet glooms beside the way.
The dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reign
Here, richly decked, admits the gorgeous train;
Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,
The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare.
Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy!
Sure these denote one universal joy!
Are these thy serious thoughts? -Ah, turn thine eyes
Where the poor houseless shivering female lies.
She once, perhaps, in a village plenty blessed,
Has wept at tales of innocence distressed;
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn;
Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled,
Near her betrayer's door she lays her head,
And, pinched with cold, and shrinking from the shower,
With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,
When idly first, ambitious of the town,
She left her wheel and robes of country brown.
Do thine, sweet Auburn, thine, the loveliest train,
Do thy fair tribes participate her pain?
E'en now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led,
At proud men's doors they ask a little bread!
Ah, no! -To distant climes, a dreary scene,
Where half the convex world intrudes between,
Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,
Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.
Far different there from all that charmed before,
The various terrors of that horrid shore;
Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray
And fiercely shed intolerable day;
Those matted woods where birds forget to sing,
But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling;
Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crowned,
Where the dark scorpion gathers death around;
Where at each step the stranger fears to wake
The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake;
Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey,
And savage men more murderous still than they;
While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies,
Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies.
Far different these from every former scene,
The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green,
The breezy covert of the warbling grove,
That only sheltered thefts of harmless love.
Good Heaven! what sorrows gloomed that parting day
That called them from their native walks away;
When the poor exiles, every pleasure passed,
Hung round their bowers, and fondly looked their last,
And took a long farewell, and wished in vain
For seats like these beyond the western main;
And, shuddering still to face the distant deep,
Returned and wept, and still returned to weep.
The good old sire, the first prepared to go
To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe;
But for himself, in conscious virtue brave,
He only wished for worlds beyond the grave.
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of his helpless years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for a father's arms.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose;
And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear;
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the silent manliness of grief.
O luxury! thou cursed by Heaven's decree,
How ill exchanged are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with insidious joy,
Diffuse thy pleasures only to destroy!
Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown,
Boast of a florid vigour not their own;
At every draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mass of rank unwieldly woe;
Till, sapped their strength, and every part unsound,
Down, down they sink, and spread the ruin round.
Even now the devastation is begun,
And half the business of destruction done;
Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand,
I see the rural virtues leave the land:
Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail
That idly waiting flaps with every gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand.
Contented toil, and hospitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness, are there;
And piety with wishes placed above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,
Still first to fly where sensual joys invade;
Unfit in these degenerate times of shame
To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame;
Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried,
My shame in crowds, my solitary pride;
Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so;
Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well!
Farewell, and oh! where'er thy voice be tried,
On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side,
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in snow,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime;
Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain
Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain;
Teach him that states of native strength possessed,
Though very poor, may still be very blessed;
That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away;
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.
-----------------
The poem appeared on www.bartleby.com
A profound memory of my trip to Switzerland, the spectacular F/A-18C of Swiss Airforce displaying its magnificence in the Swiss Alps. A hint of what's to come in the new year.
1) The profoundly tender or passionate affection for another person.
2) A feeling of warm personal attachement or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
[Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary 1989]
Saudade (European Portuguese): is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return. A stronger form of saudade might be felt towards people and things whose whereabouts are unknown, such as a lost lover, or a family member who has gone missing, moved away, separated, or died.
Saudade was once described as "the love that remains" after someone is gone. Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one's children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings altogether, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling.
Saudade is a word in Portuguese and Galician (from which it entered Spanish) that claims no direct translation in English. In Portuguese, "Tenho saudades tuas" (European Portuguese) or "Tenho saudades de você" (Brazilian Portuguese), translates as "I have (feel) saudade of you" meaning "I miss you", but carries a much stronger tone. In fact, one can have saudade of someone whom one is with, but have some feeling of loss towards the past or the future. For example, one can have "saudade" towards part of the relationship or emotions once experienced for/with someone, though the person in question still is part of one's life, as in "Tenho saudade do que fomos" (I feel "saudade" of the way we were). Another example can illustrate this use of the word saudade: "Que saudade!" indicating a general feeling of longing, whereby the object of longing can be a general and undefined entity/occasion/person/group/period etc. This feeling of longing can be accompanied or better described by an abstract will to be where the object of longing is.
Despite being hard to translate, saudade has equivalent words in other cultures, and is often related to music styles expressing this feeling such as the blues for African-Americans, dor in Romania, Tizita in Ethiopia, or Assouf for the Tuareg people. In Slovak, the word is clivota or cnenie, and Sehnsucht in German.
Source: Wikipedia
The cityscape of Bratislava is characterized by medieval towers and grandiose 20th-century buildings, but it underwent profound changes in a construction boom at the start of the 21st century.
Most historical buildings are concentrated in the Old Town. Bratislava's Town Hall is a complex of three buildings erected in the 14th–15th centuries and now hosts the Bratislava City Museum. Michael's Gate is the only gate that has been preserved from the medieval fortifications, and it ranks among the oldest of the town's buildings; the narrowest house in Europe is nearby. The University Library building, erected in 1756, was used by the Diet of the Kingdom of Hungary from 1802 to 1848. Much of the significant legislation of the Hungarian Reform Era (such as the abolition of serfdom and the foundation of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences) was enacted there.
The historic centre is characterized by many baroque palaces. The Grassalkovich Palace, built around 1760, is now the residence of the Slovak president, and the Slovak government now has its seat in the former Archiepiscopal Palace. In 1805, diplomats of emperors Napoleon and Francis II signed the fourth Peace of Pressburg in the Primate's Palace, after Napoleon's victory in the Battle of Austerlitz. Some smaller houses are historically significant; composer Johann Nepomuk Hummel was born in an 18th-century house in the Old Town.
Three things that profoundly changed the West, appeared in the year 1873: the Colt SAA "Peacemaker" revolver, the model 1873 "Trapdoor" Springfield rifle and barbed wire.
Camera: Pentax 645N
Lens: smc Pentax-A 645 35mm F/3.5 (yellow filter)
Exposure: 1/250 @ F/8
Film: Kosmo Foto Mono home dev. in D-76 1+1
JAGO: *Reading aloud to Scout, Bogart, Paddy and Cousin Paddington.* " When Cinderella arrived at the palace, it was the king’s son who offered her his hand as she alighted from her golden coach. He led her into the palace to join the glittering company gathered there. Upon her entry to the ballroom there was an immediate and profound silence. Everyone stopped dancing, the musicians ceased to play, and all heads turned, so entranced was everyone with the singular beauty of the unknown newcomer..."
BOGART: "Cinderella is going to be the belle of the ball, Jago!"
COUSIN PADDINGTON: "She certainly is, Bogart! It’s so wonderful!"
SCOUT: *Sighs.*
PADDY: "Scout! Are you paying attention to the story?"
SCOUT: "Oh yes, Paddy! Of course! I was just wondering when the woodcutter was going to arrive."
PADDY: "What woodcutter, Scout?"
SCOUT: "Why the woodcutter who is going to save Cinderella from the Big Bad Wolf to is attending the ball."
JAGO: *Looks perplexed.* "I think you might have your faerie tales confused, Scout."
BOGART: "There is no woodcutter in Cinderella, Scout."
COUSIN PADDINGTON: "Not a big bad wolf. They are both in your favourite faerie tale, Little Red Riding Hood, not Cinderella!"
SCOUT: "Well, we’ll see! This time the story might be different! Cinderella and the Prince might be dancing when suddenly the Big Bad Wolf bounds in from the garden through the French doors, scattering ball guests left and right and then they wood need a woodcutter to save them all!"
PADDY: "I’m sorry Scout, but what would be the purpose of that happening? How would that help Cinderella escape her life of drudgery and live happily ever after with the Prince?"
SCOUT: "Well, the way I see it Paddy, everyone would be in such a commotion running away from the Big Bad Wolf, that Cinderella wouldn’t notice that it was midnight."
JAGO: "But Cinderella does that already! She loses her glass slipper on the palace steps so that the Prince can find her again."
SCOUT: "Well, if that is true, Jago, but if she and the Prince were chased by the wolf and she forgot the time, her dress would get changed back to rags, but the Prince would love her so much that he wouldn’t care about her rags, and she wouldn’t have to go home to her mean old stepmother and nasty stepsisters and wait for him to rescue her!"
BOGART: "Scout does make a good argument for the introduction of the Big Bad Wolf, Paddy and Jago! "
COUSIN PADDINGTON: "I have to agree."
SCOUT: "Thank you Bogart and Cousin Paddington." *Proud.*
PADDY: "Persuasive or not, Scout, I don’t think it’s going to happen."
SCOUT: "Well, we haven’t read this version of Cinderella before, so it might be different. Please keep reading, Jago. "
JAGO: "Oh, yes, where was I? Oh yes, ‘Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of, ‘Who is she? Do we know her? How wonderful her gown! How elegant her hairstyle! How beautiful she is!’ The king himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling the queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and lovely a creature’ Oh, hullo everyone! Paddy, Scout Cousin Paddington, Bogart and I are reading one of Daddy's very special copies of Cinderella from the 1902." *Looks up.* "Why you ask? Well, because today is International Tell a Faerie Tale Day."
BOGART: "What is International Tell a Faerie Tale Day?"
PADDY: "Well Bogart, International Tell a Faerie Tale Day is an informal observance held on the 26th of February every year. It provides a perfect opportunity to read faerie tales."
SCOUT: "But Paddy, we read faerie tales all the time, not just on the 26th of February."
PADDY: "I know Scout, but some adults need an excuse to reconnect with their inner child."
SCOUT: "Daddy doesn't! He reads as many faerie tales as we do."
PADDY: "More than us I think, Scout."
BOGART: "Oh that's sad that others don't read faerie tales as much as we do. They are missing out on so much! They are beautiful!"
SCOUT: "Except when that no good break-and-enter homewrecking Goldilocks breaks into the home of the Three Bears and makes a nuisance of herself, or when the Big Bad Wolf gobbles up Little Red Riding Hood and that was the end of the story, and when the Beast gets turned back into a crummy old prince when Beauty fell in love with him as the Beast."
PADDY: "Well, whether you think they are beautiful or not, Scout and Bogart, Daddy and I encourage you all, even if you don’t have children or your children are not at home or grown up, to not miss the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with faerie tales. It’s perfectly acceptable to read faerie tale books alone, although I prefer reading them with Daddy, Scout, Cousin Paddington, Bogart and Jago. Make a cup of yummy hot chocolate, curl up in a chair and immerse yourself in the world of princes and princesses, evil witches and mischievous faeries, dragons and unicorns, talking animals and magical plants."
SCOUT: "Hot chocolate Paddy? Oooooohhh! I'd love a hot chocolate. Grumby tummy Paddy! Grumbly tummy." *Rubs tummy vigorously.*
Paddy is right, he, Scout, Jago, Bogart and Cousin Paddington have much reading to do, as I have lent them my 1902 copy of "Cinderella or the Little Glass Slipper" published by E. P. Dutton and Company.
My Paddington Bear came to live with me in London when I was two years old (many, many years ago). He was hand made by my Great Aunt and he has a chocolate coloured felt hat, the brim of which had to be pinned up by a safety pin to stop it getting in his eyes. The collar of his mackintosh is made of the same felt. He wears wellington boots made from the same red leather used to make the toggles on his mackintosh.
He has travelled with me across the world and he and I have had many adventures together over the years. He is a very precious member of my small family.
Scout was a gift to Paddy from my friend. He is a Fair Trade Bear hand knitted in Africa. His name comes from the shop my friend found him in: Scout House. He tells me that life was very different where he came from, and Paddy is helping introduce him to many new experiences. Scout catches on quickly, and has proven to be a cheeky, but very lovable member of our closely knit family.
Travelling all the way from London, Cousin Paddington was caught in transit thanks to the Coronavirus pandemic. After so long here he has decided to stop with us permanently. That makes me happy, as the more I look into his happy, smiling face, the more attached I am becoming to him.
Jago is a recent addition to my ever-growing family. A gift from a dear friend in England, he is made of English mohair with suede paw pads and glass eyes. He is a gentle bear, kind and patient who carries an air of calm about him. He is already fitting in with everyone else very nicely.
Bogart has travelled all the way from Georgia, via Alabama as a gift to me from a friend. He has lovely Southern manners and seems to be a fun and gentle soul with an inquisitive nature.
攝於日本京都醍醐寺.靈寶館外步道
in Japan Kyoto
Daigo-ji (醍醐寺 Daigo-ji) is a Shingon Buddhist temple in Fushimi-ku, Kyoto, Japan. Its main devotion (honzon) is Yakushi. Daigo, literally "ghee," is used figuratively to mean "crème de la crème" and is a metaphor of the most profound part of Buddhist thoughts.
Several structures, including the kondō and the five-story pagoda, are National Treasures of Japan. The temple possesses 18 specifically designated national treasures, including the buildings and other works as well; and the temple holds several dozen important cultural assets. Wall paintings at the temple were the subject of academic research which earned the Imperial Prize of the Japan Academy in 1960.[4]
As part of the "Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto," it is designated as a World Heritage Site.
The five-storey pagoda at Daigoji temple was built in 951 and is the oldest building in Kyoto. It was one of few buildings to survive the Onin War in the 15th century.
醍醐寺（だいごじ）は、京都府京都市伏見区醍醐東大路町にある、真言宗醍醐派総本山の寺院。山号を醍醐山（深雪山とも）と称する。本尊は薬師如来、開基（創立者）は理源大師聖宝である。古都京都の文化財として世界遺産に登録されている。伏見区東方に広がる醍醐山（笠取山）に200万坪以上の広大な境内をもつ寺院である。豊臣秀吉による「醍醐の花見」の行われた地としても知られている。
醍醐寺の創建は貞観16年（874年）、空海の孫弟子にあたる理源大師聖宝が准胝観音並びに如意輪観音を笠取山頂上に迎えて開山、聖宝は同山頂付近を「醍醐山」と名付けた。
醍醐寺は山深い醍醐山頂上一帯を中心に、多くの修験者の霊場として発展した後（この場所を「上醍醐」と呼称する）、醍醐天皇は醍醐寺を自らの祈願寺とすると共に手厚い庇護を掛け、その圧倒的な財力によって醍醐山麓の広大な平地に大伽藍「下醍醐」が発展することになる。
その後、応仁の乱など相次ぐ戦争で下醍醐は荒廃し、五重塔しか残らないありさまであった。しかし豊臣秀吉による「醍醐の花見」をきっかけに紀州などからの寺院建築の移築や三宝院の建設などにより今日見るような姿となっている。
醍醐寺（日語：醍醐寺）為一位於日本京都府京都市伏見區醍醐東大路町的真言宗醍醐派總本山寺院。山號醍醐山。本尊藥師如來，開基（創立者）理源大師聖寶（しょうぼう）。以古都京都的文化財的一部分而列入世界遺產名錄當中。豐臣秀吉舉行「醍醐花見」之地而廣為人知。
"What is more pleasant than the benevolent notice other people take of us, what is more agreeable than their compassionate empathy? What inspires us more than addressing ears flushed with excitement, what captivates us more than exercising our own power of fascination? What is more thrilling than an entire hall of expectant eyes, what more overwhelming than applause surging up to us? What, lastly, equals the enchantment sparked off by the delighted attention we receive from those who profoundly delight ourselves? - Attention by other people is the most irresistible of drugs. To receive it outshines receiving any other kind of income. This is why glory surpasses power and why wealth is overshadowed by prominence."
Caterina Fake, Co-founder of Flickr, 2005.
A couple of years ago I wrote a post called Top 10 Tips for Getting Attention on Flickr that proved fairly popular. A lot has changed at Flickr in the past 2 years though and how imagery is rated and ranked on the site has also changed. That said, I thought I'd write a fresher updated post on the top 10 ways, presently, to get attention on Flickr.
Back in 2006 when I wrote my original article on how to achieve popularity on Flickr my photostream had been viewed almost 400,000 times. According to a Flickr stats page that's been added since that time, the view count for my pages on Flickr now stands at 9,953,328. It should pass 10 million sometime this week. I'm averaging about 14,000 page views a day on Flickr.
Some of how one gets attention on Flickr has remained the same since 2006. Other stuff has changed.
1. Take great pictures. This was my number one way to achieve popularity on Flickr in 2006 and remains the number one way today. Despite all the other things that you might do to promote your photography, none of it will matter if your photos are not interesting. Everyone can be creative. Some are more creative than others. Sometimes your gear and photo processing matters, other times it doesn't. I've seen incredibly beautiful and creative photos taken with a $10 toy camera. And I've seen incredibly beautiful and creative photos taken with a $40,000 digital Hasselblad. I've seen people upload interesting things from a crappy iPhone camera and I've seen people upload interesting things that they spent 8 hours on Photoshop with. But, the better your photos are the more likely that you will get attention. Taking great photos is a prerequisite to everything else in this article.
This said, there are certain types of photos that tend to become more popular on Flickr than others. Provocatively posed female self portraits or photos of attractive women in interesting poses, extremely saturated photos rich with eye candy like color, cityscapes, night photography, photos depicting movement and motion, silhouettes, dramatic architecture, unique portraits, creatively arranged macros and cross processed and some film photography.
2. The order that you post your photos to Flickr counts. The number one way that your photos will likely be seen in Flickr comes from your Flickr contacts looking at their Flickr contact's photos. At present Flickr allows you to set your contacts most recent photos to their last photo, or their last 5 photos. Anything beyond 5 photos in a single batch upload will largely be buried on Flickr. If you are uploading more than 5 photos at once, make sure that you upload your best 5 photos last and what you consider your very best photo last of all. Frequently people will upload a batch of 30 photos from a concert or something with no thought as to which will be the last 5 of the 30 in order.
3. Consider places outside of Flickr to promote your photography. Do you have a blog or a photoblog? If you want more attention on Flickr you should. Flickr makes it very easy to blog your photos, you simply cut and paste the html code above your photo and you are now photoblogging with a direct link back to your photo. My blog, thomashawk.com is my number two external referrer of pageviews to my Flickrstream. Are you on FriendFeed yet? You should be. It's easy to set up and makes sure more people see your photos. Pownce (when it is working) is another place to post interesting photos.
4. Do you have your settings on Flickr configured for maximum exposure? After Flickr itself, Google drives more traffic to my Flickrstream than any other source, even my blog. Yahoo search and both Google and Yahoo image search drive traffic as well. But your photos will be blocked from appearing in search engines unless you authorize Flickr to display your images in search engines. Make sure your photostream is set to not "hide your stuff from public searches," here.
Same goes for the Flickr API. Lots of people are using the Flickr API in interesting ways. I get traffic from places like Flickrleech, Compfight, Technorati and lots of other places that use the Flickr API to extend your photos outside of Flickr. Make sure that you've authorized Flickr to allow API access to your photos here.
5. Explore. Explore still remains the number one way to get photos viewed on Flickr. Explore uses Flickr's "Magic Donkey" algorithm to each day highlight 500 of what Flickr feels are the best photos on Flickr for that day. It's a very popular section of the site despite the fact that everyone seems to constantly hate Explore and decry its mediocrity in selecting exceptional photos. Explore has changed and evolved a lot since it was first introduced at Flickr a few years back. Initially things like *when* you posted your photos mattered.
Whether or not Flickr chooses your photos for Explore is still very much a mystery. But there are some things that we do know. The more faves, comments, tags, etc. your photo gets, the more likely it is that it will appear in Explore. Explore also uses averaging in their algorithm now. This means that if your average photo gets 5 faves, then you'll need to do considerably better than average if you hope to see that photo in Explore.
Photos are also constantly dropping in and out of Explore. I've got 157 photos in Explore at present but I've had 446 that have appeared in Explore at one time or another. You can check out which and how many of your photos that have been showcased by Flickr in Explore here. Just change my Flickr ID at the link above for your own.
6. Groups. Speaking of Explore, if you really want to get a particular photo in Explore consider adding it to a group that encourages tagging, faving and comments of photos. Photo critique groups are good examples of this. Some of the photo critique groups play games where tagging and commenting on a photo are part of the game. Flickr does not distinguish between a photo that has been commented on or tagged organically vs. one that is included in some sort of photo critique game. If you want to boost the likelihood that your photo will be selected for Explore consider putting a strong photo into one of these pools. Photo critique groups on Flickr run the gamut from nice and friendly photo critique groups like TWIP's, to hostile and brutal photo critique groups like DeleteMe Uncensored (note NSFW and maybe not the best group if you are easily offended).
Whatever the case, the key to groups is participation. If you simply dump a bunch of photos blindly into random groups you will likely not get much benefit. In fact, Flickr actually penalizes photo rank if someone posts their photo to too many groups. But posting your photo to selective groups where you participate will encourage activity on your photos and photostream.
7. Tag for Exploration (especially your most popular photos). Why has this photo of mine been viewed over 27,000 times on Flickr? Well in part because it shows up on the first page search results on Flickr for the search term guitar. And why does it show up in searches for the word "guitar?" Because I've got the photo *tagged* guitar. By tagging your photos appropriately you can ensure that more people will see them in search. Think of other ways that you can tag your photos. Are all of your photos taken in San Francisco also tagged "California?" They should be. Are all of your photos tagged "self portrait" also tagged with your name? Again, they should be.
The better you keyword and tag your photos, the more likely they will show up in searches that take place on Flickr. Even if you think that your photos will never be popular enough to rank highly in search, remember that there are other ways that Flickr users can filter search. You can search just by your contacts photos on Flickr for instance. So even if you don't have the most popular sunset photo amongst millions on Flickr, you might have the most popular sunset photo amongst your contacts because you tagged it.
A note that I've seen some people on Flickr abuse tags. They will tag every photo with girl, sunset, cat, etc. Even if these things are not in their photo simply to try and trick people into getting to their photos through search. This sucks. I'm not sure what/if/how Flickr penalizes people who do this, but it's a crappy thing to do and ruins the search experience for everyone. Tag early and often, but only tag your photos with tags that truly are accurate and descriptive.
8. Geotag. One of the more interesting ways to find photos on Flickr is through exploring photos that are geotagged on a map. When I'm going to a new place that I'm not familiar with, frequently Flickr's "Explore the World Map," is one of my first destinations. But of course your photos will not show up here if they are not geotagged. The best way to geotag your photos is actually at the file level before you upload them. I use Geotagger on the Mac which allows you to use Google Earth to geotag your photos. You can also download the free software program from Microsoft Pro Photo Tools to geotag photos on a PC.
Check what Flickr considers your most popular photos and make sure that you geotag (and more descriptively tag) these photos especially -- even if you have to geotag these shots on Flickr using their tools. Geotagging has been documented by Flickr staff as increasing the Flickr "interestingness" rating of a photograph.
9. Consider creating a few "best of" sets and feature them prominently on your Flickrstream. Frequently when people first discover your photostream they don't have time to check out your entire stream. But if you make it easier for them and create a few sets that highlight some of your best work they may stick around longer. I've created two such sets myself. My 10 faves or more set and my 25 faves or more set. These sets highlight what are some of my best work according to the Flickr community and are my two most visited sets on Flickr. As my photos are faved 10 or 25 times I add the tag fav10 or fav25 to these sets and then use SmartSetr to automatically generate these sets.
Make sure also that you change your Flickr page layout from the boring default one to one that highlights your collections and sets better.
10. Tell everyone you know about your Flickrstream. Are you active on other social networks? Is a link to your Flickrstream prominently displayed on your blog? On your Facebook profile page? Be sure to include a link to your Flickrstream in every profile that you are on with other sites. Consider buying Moo cards (even though Moo.com has been lousy for me lately and won't let me buy anymore cards from them) which highlight your photostream that you can give out to people that you run across while out shooting. Tell your friends and family and your offline "real life" contacts about your Flickrstream.
Bonus tip: Reciprocation. Above everything else, perhaps the most important thing about Flickr is that it is a community and a reciprocation based community. If you think that you can just post your photos on the site and they will garner thousands of faves and views simply because, you are wrong. Even the best photos on Flickr will not get very much attention if you simply upload them to the site and never participate.
Flickr has been built to encourage reciprocation. In fact a recent study cited reciprocation as the number one key to popularity on Flickr. Every single time you fave or comment on someone else's photo you are giving them a link back to your own photostream. While you may not have the time to check out *everyone* who faves your photos, spend time each day faving and commenting on other people's photos on Flickr. By sharing with others the fact that you appreciate their photos they will return the favor. Be generous with your faves and comments. Remember, other people like the attention as much as you do.
Update: An interesting link to comments Flickr staff have made about the Explore algorithm here. Thanks, Ole!
I'm so sorry. The gray area here is appropriate.
I seem to have somehow managed to fracture a rib and everything I do right now, including just sitting briefly at the computer, is intensely painful.
Please know that every day I'm looking at your pictures, but just can't quite sit still long enough to comment on them!
It's unfair that you all keep producing and posting such fantastic stuff and I'm unable to let you know how great I think it is.
Just so you know my absence has not been intentional and hopefully I'll be able to be back soon giving you all the accolades you deserve!
Resistance pilot Poe Dameron finds Lor San Tekka on Jakku and is given a map that leads to the missing Jedi Luke Skywalker. Unfortunately, the First Order is also after Skywalker and they attack the village in search of Tekka and the map. Dameron fires at the stormtroopers as he attempts to escape. The death of one of these stormtroopers has a profound effect on another.
Part 1 of what I intend to be a Lego retelling of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. This part is a bit of a mish-mash of shots from the opening scene of the movie. Part 2 will be out tomorrow and is a much more accurate version of a specific shot.
A profound statement by I know not whom.
The evocative and lyrical background track composed by Dexter Britain..... entitled 'Lucky ones'
K4.0000
8 Aug 18
"Profound silence is often a sign of regression. It is also often a symptom of physic numbness." -John Lee
As the last light of dusk casts its light across the bay, the tide moves in rapidly to caress the stoic trees. The moon ever bright rises to illuminate the night to come.
When the sun began to lean, there was
an old history on the hill of the village Found a temple.
We borrowed the corridor of the temple to take pictures
A quiet, neat corridor with no sound, old history.
In the work of the attentive monks in a profound
Comes from the back of the mountain.
She was shining beautifully in a light.
under the skies that transcend billions of universes,
the outsized elephant-room of questions & secrets;
deepak ` the lightwriter's canvas broach in open.
we read our dread, Who if I cried out would hear me?
mind the stillness-mat viz; feelings get encroached; at
first, you praise their dress, then you get ash-dressed.
'ours' keeps breaking - ourselves, within our perimeter.
bully / pulpit alters us; diminishes sickle consciousness.
betwixt the micro spaces of conversation / correctness,
a certain static silence had enshrined in - just all over.
harbinger of tenuous assumptions kept on ossifying
into the experiments with musts, doubts, turncoats.
approvers bare intimacy that bears inching eyes;
and when one is completely inside one's perfidy,
a cover-up mindset suborns a hushed horizon —
pretends - the decisions had been difficult. 'yes'
— deserts us in a forgetting curve that reminds us,
of sti-ff-ness between us, culturing the same sky.
take over air consternates us-sets dreams on fire.
formless hubris viz debris, give themselves to gust
to be e'er scattered betwixt this/that; bedraggled.
zeroing in, insecurity at the heart of human constructs
the displaced shoes let you see, the surface of yore.
a long haul to dig and find, the great heart of our past.
no spin here, to foresee, real ground under our feet.
unchopping a tree, perched on wasteland, silences..
a thousand mile stare, ensouls thousand silhouettes:
anagram—breathy.ed each other to the bridging truth;
and learnedness, endlessly multiplied with curtain call.
where e g /oquence isolates honest assessment, not
being one of their chiliad/st.ic quarters isn't isolation.
not a diminishment, if being exercised more fully -
- truth's episodic memory is tender and unwavering;
ongoing procedure of days - = - simply transformative,
to rain align, all the absorbed moments of illumination.
bathed in light, friendships bear holistic temperament
alert, alert, alter! “after the game is before the game”.
tales shine in via our window of thousand caresses,
where you are sewing a blouse that feeds the spine.
tender paws & sky-ball inside, dashing out of a conch;
over tears-coasts, the white expanse, so kind & clear.
coconut chirping an intrinsic and glorious awakening.
rose dew here, and trouble talk lies beyond the map.
the truth is made real through servitude in affection.
psithurism of intimate revelations recalls clutched keys;
the key did turn. everywhere you turn is full of wonder.
awed to see - the shift inside, shifts deep garden state!
how did a blackbird of the milky way land up here,
that joy glistens in the kaleidoscopic, tent•i•er eyes.
how else to truly trace this landscape of provenance,
a cat following a radiant butterfly to the ringing bells.
※
India ▪ that is Bhāratam
a quiet 'photo meditation' and a poem
to read in the quiet of your days.
and share as we gather around what we love.
© Think Through The — Magic Box Photographie [◎]
* The italicized line is by Rainer Maria Rilke.
Memento Mori - a remarkable concept as "Tempus Fugit"
Sacra di San Michele: the charm of symbology
In the Middle Ages the link between faith and a daily life steeped in superstitions and ancestral religious practices was profound: numerology, astrology, occult meanings given to colors and geometric shapes, plants or animals survived stronger than it seems. A bond that we find in the symbolic place of Piemonte, the Sacra di San Michele. The stairway of the dead ( Scalone dei Morti) in order to reach the Porta dello Zodiaco at the Sacra di San Michele, the visitor must climb a total of 243 steps, almost in a sort of "ascending path". An ascent in which we can already search for hidden meanings: according to Kabbalisticism, to understand the meaning of a number greater than 22 you need to add its digits until you get a number between 1-22. Done? The sum of the digits that make up the number 243 therefore takes you to the number 9, a number of great importance for Western cabalistics as it is the product of the multiplication of 3x3, a well-known Trinitarian symbol. An "ascending path" that passes by a staircase called Scalone dei Morti, because niches were created along it which housed the bodies of deceased monks, and which recalls other interesting symbols. Considering the appearance of this staircase, which leads to the so-called Portal of the Zodiac, the cave and the door to heaven come to mind. In ancient times the cave has always been a metaphor for the center of the world. Curious if we also notice that this artificial cave was built right in the heart of Mount Pirchiriano. A cave that welcomes these 243 steps that recall an ascending axis, a metaphor for the ascent from material and earthly things to the Absolute of heavenly life and to communion with God. It is therefore not surprising the desire to place the remains of the dead monks in niches created right along the grand staircase: monks who reach the gates of Heaven and eternal life, on an upward journey that allows them to leave behind everything related to their past earthly life in order to be able to get rid of their bodies and let their soul is reunited with the Eternal. The Portal of the Zodiac - Once you have climbed the staircase, you then reach this portal, so called because the 12 signs of the zodiac are engraved on it. A first curiosity catches the eye of the attentive observer: unlike usual, it is the internal faces of the entrance that are decorated and not those facing the outside. Why? There are those who hypothesize that this indicates a simple relocation of parts of a reused portal, but if we want to go back to the ascending symbology encountered earlier then the answer is simple: the important side, therefore embellished and decorated, was the internal one facing towards the staircase welcomed those who walked along it.
A profound feeling of change, newness, excitement, expectation and sights of amazing beauty and colour as nature begins its seasonal awakening.
Otranto sits right on the Adriatic sea, gazing out across its eponymous strait towards the Balkans and Greece, a strategic position that has profoundly influenced its history. In Roman times, it became an important commercial port - there was a significant Jewish population of traders - but also a departure point for Roman military expeditions to the east, as testified to by two marble pillar bases recording the transient presence of Emperors Lucio Vero and Marco Aurelio. For a period Otranto even overshadowed Brindisi.
Otranto's east-facing sea-front position, however, also made it susceptible to attacks from across the Adriatic. The most notorious took place on 28th July 1480, when a Turkish fleet of around 150 ships carrying 18,000 soldiers landed to lay siege to the town. The resistance and resilience of the town's folk is stuff of legend but after two weeks of fighting Gedik Ahmed Pasha, the Turkish commander, and his men finally stormed the castle and laid waste to the town and its population. All males over 15 were murdered and the women and children were sold into slavery.
800 survivors barricaded themselves inside the Cathedral with their bishop, Stefano Agricoli, to pray for deliverance. Divine intervention was not forthcoming, however, and they were soon captured. Gedik Ahmed Pasha demanded they renounce their Christian faith and convert to Islam but not one capitulated and their fate was sealed. The unfortunate bishop was cut to pieces and his head paraded round the town on a pike while the others were marched to the hill of Minerva and beheaded.
Years later, in 1771, a Papal decree formally beatified the 800, who became known as the Blessed Martyrs of Otranto.
Otranto is certainly one of Puglia's most charming towns and is well worth a visit. The imposing castle, thick perimeter walls and robust towers (built after the town was liberated from the Turks in the late 15th century) dominate much of the town, giving way to a small port, a series of sea-front promenades with excellent fish restaurants and the town's very own beautiful white sandy beach and turquoise waters...