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In Nov 2011, a group of high-level investors visited THP programs in Bangladesh.
Learn more about THP-Bangladesh: www.thp.org/bangladesh
Learn more about investor trips: www.thp.org/get_involved/travel
25 members of the tenth year cohort of the Aboriginal Youth Internship Program (AYIP) celebrated the completion of their 12-month program at a ceremony in Victoria, BC.
Del 10 de febrero al 30 de julio. Abierto x Obras. Matadero Madrid.
Matadero Madrid presenta Visita guiada, una intervención site specific que ha realizado Elena Alonso (Madrid, 1981) para el programa Abierto x Obras, que tiene lugar en la antigua cámara frigorífica del que fue el matadero de Legazpi. La propuesta de la artista parte de la idea de encontrarnos en una cámara aislada, donde no existe apenas comunicación entre el interior y el exterior, y del concepto de conservación, que ha estado ligado a este espacio a lo largo de su historia.
Tras sucesivas visitas a la nave, la artista comenzó a fijarse en toda la información visual que había quedado plasmada en paredes y techos. Lo que más llamó su atención fueron una serie de agujeros repartidos por la cubierta de las naves laterales, clausurados en la última reforma.
La intervención propone un recorrido por la nave utilizando como guía un pasamanos. Una línea trazada en el plano como un dibujo, que en esta ocasión toma forma escultórica. Su elaboración con distintos materiales, como madera, cemento, corcho, escayola pintada o cobre, pone de manifiesto el interés de la artista por la artesanía y el diseño, y ofrecen al visitante el deleite a la vista y al tacto de los materiales trabajados.
En la penumbra de la nave encontramos esta particular guía que nos lleva a descubrir una nueva perspectiva del espacio. Los agujeros han sido reabiertos, por ellos entra la luz y se vislumbra otra galería superior, antes oculta a la mirada del visitante.
En esta intervención artística hallamos un juego de contrastes, de impedimentos y de posibilidades. En cierta manera, recuerda a las cuevas visitables donde el recorrido nos va mostrando la particular geomorfología que conserva en su ambiente antes estático. En este caso, la cuidada elaboración del pasamanos contrasta con la brutalidad del espacio.
El pasamanos es a su vez una guía y una barrera, una línea que sortea y adorna la arquitectura de la nave. Una pieza que podemos ver y tocar, y que nos lleva a descubrir un lugar inesperado sobre nuestras cabezas, pero que solo podemos llegar a entrever desde la distancia.
Elena Alonso (Madrid, 1981) Licenciada en Bellas Artes y Máster en Arte, Creación e Investigación por la Universidad Complutense de Madrid, ha realizado también estudios en Suecia y Helsinki. Desarrolla su trabajo principalmente mediante el dibujo, relacionándolo con otras disciplinas como la arquitectura, la artesanía o el diseño, y prestando especial atención a las problemáticas vinculadas a la afectividad con el entorno. Ha expuesto de forma individual en el Museo ABC (El espacio alrededor, 2016); Espacio Valverde (Canto Blando, 2016; Composición de lugar, 2014; La tapadera, 2012); en la Sala de Arte Joven de la Comunidad de Madrid (2011); y en la Cable Factory de Helsinki (Paredes de piel, 2007).
Abierto x Obras, en Matadero Madrid, es un programa de intervenciones site specific que invita a artistas a realizar una pieza de nueva producción incentivando el carácter experimental de la creación contemporánea a través de planteamientos que exploran la relación entre el arte y el lugar que lo acoge, la antigua cámara frigorífica del Matadero. Una sala de más de 800 metros cuadrados que todavía conserva su aspecto original y las huellas de un incendio sucedido en los años 90. Un espacio característico por su estructura diáfana de arcos volados y columnas. Desde 2007, Abierto x Obras ha acogido las intervenciones de artistas como Daniel Canogar, Jannis Kounnellis, Román Signer, Carlos Garaicoa, Fernando Sánchez Castillo, Jordi Colomer, Los Carpinteros, Cristina Lucas, Eugenio Ampudia o Darya von Berner, entre otros.
Photo credit: Elena Olivo
Copyright: NYU Photo Bureau
The Fall 2010 Student Hackathon brought in hundreds of students from 30 universities to NYU's Courant Institute for 24 hours of creative hacking on New York City startups' APIs.
Selected startups presented their technologies at the beginning of the event, and students formed groups to brainstorm and begin coding on their ideas. Many students worked into the night, foregoing sleep to fulfill their visions.
On Sunday afternoon students presented their projects to an audience including a judging panel, which selected the final winners.
hackNY hosts hackathons one each semester, as well as a Summer Fellows Program, which pairs quantitative and computational students with startups which can demonstrate a strong mentoring environment, a problem for a student to work on, a person to mentor them, and a place for them to work. Startups selected to host a student are expected to compensate student Fellows. Students enjoy free housing together and a pedagogical lecture series to introduce them to the ins and outs of joining and founding a startup.
For more information on hackNY's initiatives, please visit www.hackNY.org and follow us on twitter @hackNY
The Recreation program office is located in the Annex Building, located at the end of Loop Road below the Undergraduate Building. Here, you can sign up for fun trips and workshops and rent equipment for an outdoor adventure.
Photo: Laura Dutelle
Online management degree teaches the new updated methods of managing business, where they can climb the ladder of success easily.
Employees for John Deere Ag & Turf Division in Cary, N.C., donate more than 560 school backpacks for North Carolina National Guard Family Programs, Aug. 21, 2015. The employees of the military appreciation group lead by Gail Dawes, wife of NCNG Command Sgt. Maj. Christopher Dawes, carried, drug and tossed the packs in the back of a NCNG Medium Tactical Vehicle for transport to Guard HQ and later distribution to Guard families during upcoming drills. The employees continue a commitment began by the company in 2005 supporting various family programs events including Christmas meal donations. “It is important to walk the walk, it is everything to us,” said Denver Caldwell, manager of U.S. and Canada turf marketing. The bags will be stuffed with school supplies from previous donations from Wells Fargo, Operation Homefront and Dollar Tree. (U.S. Army National Guard photo by Sgt. 1st Class Robert Jordan / Released)
Each year since 1994 the Youth in Arts Program of Marin County has hosted an Italian Street Painting Festival in San Rafael, California. It is a lively event in which 200 chalk artists – modern day madonnari – create large, ephemeral street paintings.
My son Charlie (barleybenton on Flickr) did a fine job photographing the festival in 2008 and 2009 using a camera mounted on a painter’s pole. This year he invited me to come along. This year Charlie is using a Canon SD800is mounted in a new servo-controlled cradle and lofted atop an 11-meter carp pole. The camera is controlled using an Arduino-based system of his own design that allows him to aim the camera with a joystick while watching a video feed. It is a nifty rig that can also make automatic panoramic sweeps with a single command.
Charlie’s approach has been to shoot relatively close views of the chalk art under diffuse light. To do this he waits for the late afternoon hours when neighboring buildings shade the street. In the absence of sharp shadows Charlie’s photographic compositions are nice and clean and thus it is easier to read the chalk works
I decided to work a different thread by shooting from a higher vantage point, often with Panasonic's 18-mm equivalent wide-angle adapter, and doing so when the sun created strong shadows. So this set addresses the general context of the festival and tries to juxtapose the two-dimensional paintings with the three-dimensional crowd.
I have posted an unusually large set of images from the Italian Street Painting Festival in response to queries from passerby and artists who promised to look for them on Flickr. If you are one of the artists or one of the sponsors and would like a high-resolution file, just send me an e-mail (crisp at berkeley edu).
José Gómez-Márquez
Program Director for the Innovations in International Health (IIH)
initiative at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT)
BMW Guggenheim Lab Team Member – Berlin
Photo: TEDGlobal 2011
José Gómez-Márquez is interested in innovative uses of technology to empower citizens in the process of actively making. Following a DIY philosophy, Gómez-Márquez’s programs will focus on the tangible aspects of building your own city and hacking space through the use of tools for rapid prototyping and creative construction.
During a Native American history-themed sleepover at the National Archives in Washington, DC, 101 kids and their grown-ups spent the night enjoying history-related activities, learning from special guests actor Martin Sensmeier, Jim Thorpe historians Bob Wheeler and Flo Ridlon, and Native American storyteller Perry Ground. After sleeping over night in the Rotunda, participants enjoyed a pancake breakfast made by the Archivist of the United States, David S. Ferriero, on October 14, 2018.
The Thirty-First Session of WIPO’s Program and Budget Committee (PBC) took place in Geneva from September 7 to September 11, 2020.
Copyright: WIPO. Photo: Emmanuel Berrod. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 IGO License.
I'm going for "The Matrix" feel... so expect more shots with the green hue
This shot reminds me of the battle between Neo& Agent Smith in Matrix Revolutions
Sunday, 21 September 2008.
40 Years in 40 Days [ view the entire set ]
An examination and remembrance of a life at 40.
For the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday, I intend to use my 365 Days project to document and remember my life and lay bare what defines me. 40 years, 40 qualities, 40 days.
Year 32: 1999-2000
In the fall of 1999, as I began my graduate school program, my relationship with Dave was deteriorating rapidly. There was no anger between us, and in fact, there was a great deal of tenderness, but there was no denying anymore that we were not working out. We had to face the fact that sometimes love alone isn't enough to sustain a relationship. I suggested that maybe he would benefit from finding a short-term 3-month lease on an apartment, allowing him some temporary space to sort out his feelings. Even as I said the words, I wanted to grab them up and pull them back in. I didn't want him to go at all, but I knew that what I wanted and what was right were not the same thing. He said he would think about it.
By late October, there was nothing more to say. In our weekly counseling session, the therapist asked him if he believed there was anything left of the relationship to save, and when I heard his barely audible no, my heart felt like lead in my chest. "So, it sounds like it's time for you to say this is it, then," she told him. The tears came rolling down my face, and I pounded the pillow I was holding with my fist. My relationship had just ended with no preamble, and I hadn't even been a part of the conversation. "What just happened?" I growled quietly. "What just happened?" It was all I could say. I just kept repeating it, as the tears came gushing forth. What just happened?
The therapist asked Dave if he would go wait in the waiting room for a few minutes, and as he left, I saw that his eyes were red and swollen with suppressed tears. After he left, I lost all semblance of control. I screamed, "No! This isn't happening!" I pleaded, "Please tell me this isn't happening." The room felt hot and small suddenly. I threw open the door and charged into the hallway, shouting and sobbing. The therapist came after me and put her arms around me, and I cried into her shoulder. "Why?" I asked. "I love him. I just love him. Why isn't that enough?" "I don't know," she said softly, stroking my hair. "Sometimes it just isn't."
When I had regained some of my composure, she led me back into the room and asked Dave to come back in. It was obvious he had been crying and was in a great deal of distress. She asked him about it, and he said it was very hard for him to see me in so much pain. Desperate to cling to any life raft, I took some small comfort from that. He had not become numb to me, at least.
The therapist left the room to give us a few minutes to talk alone. I did not have the strength to look at him, so I sat on the couch next to him, staring at my hands lying limp in my lap. Quietly, I asked him if he would please stay through the holidays. I didn't think I could make it through them if he left right before. He said he wasn't sure he could, either, and so we agreed to spend our last holiday season together, alone and away from family. It would be our way of honoring each other and the time we had spent in each other's lives.
Later, as we drove home in silence, I said, "Let's go out for New Year's Eve." I lifted my head from where it had been resting against the passenger window. "Let's not stay in. I don't want to be morose that night. I want to celebrate the time we've had together. It's been amazing and beautiful, and I am so grateful for every moment you've been in my life, and I want to celebrate that." He said, "OK," and then paused for a moment. "You're going to make me cry again," he whispered, voice cracking.
The next couple of months were both beautiful and wrenching. We were so tender with each other that you would have thought us newlyweds. Evenings that were once spent separately, he with his coworkers, and me with my books, were now spent together. We spent our nights curled around each other, and our mornings lingering in bed. It was as if we needed to absorb every second and imprint it in our memories.
On Thanksgiving, we cooked a small meal for two, and watched TV together. His father called to say hello, and then asked to talk to me. He told me that the family missed me and loved me, and I said I loved and missed them too, and that it meant a great deal to me that he wanted to tell me that, knowing as he did that my relationship with his son was dissolving. On Christmas Eve, we slept on the futon sofa next to the Christmas tree, because I wanted to be near the lights, and on Christmas morning, we exchanged small gifts.
When it came time to make New Year's Eve plans, we changed our minds about going out. The lease on his new apartment (three months, as we'd talked about, but we both knew it would be extended) was set to begin on January 1, so it would be our last night together, and neither of us wanted to share it with anyone or anything else. We had a small dinner, and watched a movie. When it was close to midnight, we opened a bottle of champagne, and fumbled awkwardly for a suitable toast. I suggested we drink to 5-1/2 wonderful years, and with a tiny clink of glass, 1999 came to a close. I walked to the other end of our apartment and stood looking out the window at the snow-covered street below. When he came up to stand behind me, I kept my body still, as if not to break the gentle spell of the moment. "I don't want you to go," I whispered. He rested his hands on my shoulders and sighed, "I have to."
The next morning, he gathered some of his belongings and loaded them in his truck (he would return for the rest of his things the following week, while I was at work). I sat on the couch and watched him as he carried things out. When he had loaded the truck with as much as he could carry in one trip, he came back inside to say goodbye. I tried, with only moderate success, to put on a brave and supportive face. I didn't want my red, splotchy cry-face to be the last he ever saw of me. He put his arms around me and held me. He told me that he was very proud of me for all the work I'd done on healing past wounds. I begged for reassurance that he really had loved me, and he squeezed me tighter and whispered softly in my ear. Of course he loved me.
When he left, I stood back away from the door, holding one of the cats, partially to keep it from running out after him, and partially because I needed to hold onto something. After he'd closed the door behind him, I went to the window and watched his truck pull away, listening to the sound of the engine as it disappeared down the alley. It was a sound I knew by heart, and I closed my eyes to focus on it, trying to catch every last splutter and hum as it wove itself into the sound of the city around me.
When I could no longer hear his engine, I put the cat down, returned to the bed that still smelled of him, and felt the blackness begin to form in the pit of my stomach. Inside me was something cold and dead, a coal that had given up its ember. I buried my face in his pillow and cried great anguished sobs.
In the weeks that followed Dave's departure, I traveled in a fog. I could not hear when people were speaking to me, and I could not distinguish faces. It was as if I had pillows on my ears and had lost my ability to focus my eyes. I walked to and from the train by rote physical memory. I could not work effectively at all, and I was very fortunate in that my boss allowed me a very generous amount of recovery time.
As the months wore on, I found that the pain could be compartmentalized. It did not seem to have lessened any, but I was able to put it away in its own little box, in order to rebuild my life and my newly single identity. As much as I wanted the breakup with Dave not to have happened, I also recognized it as an opportunity to remake myself into whomever I wanted to be. I'd spent many years telling myself that I couldn't do certain things or wear certain things until I lost weight and got skinny again, and more recently, I'd spent the last couple of years sulking and avoiding people. I felt I'd let myself be trapped in that mindset, and I now had an urgent need to break out. I was in my 30's, and it was finally time to let myself be young and uninhibited. I began to let my inner punk (whom I had always known was there, but never fully acknowledged) out to play. I wore crazy clothes, and crazier shoes. I wore things that sparkled, and things that hugged my curves. I was part rockabilly and part Foxy Brown, and for the first time in my life, all me.
Who am I?
I am a little piece of everyone I've ever loved.
We are all altered by those who touch our lives. When Dave left, he took part of me with him, as he left a part of himself with me. In that way, we continue to travel together, all of us, bound by the silver thread of love and memory.
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Texture Credits
FACTS about proposed motor coach service between Los Angeles, Glendale & Burbank
Metropolitan Coach Lines
610 S. Main Street. Los Angeles 14, Calif. TRinity 2792
Féilte 2010
Amárach 20.30
Tá boladh na farraige ar eagráin an tSamhraidh seo den irischlár saoire seo, á chur i láthair ag Sinéad Ní Loideáin agus Síle Ní Bhraonáin. Is as Acaill a chraolfar an t-eagrán seo ina mbeidh píobairí agus fidléirí as Scoil Acla i mbun ceoil agus ina mbeidh an t-iascaire Seán Mhikie Ó Gallchobhair ag cur síos ar a shaol agus ar a shlí mhaireachtála. Tá an tsraith nua seo