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My work from the two-person exhibition titled Dear Protagonist, with Maggie Hubbard and myself at the Hammond Arts Center - October 4 - 31
From the left:
Without Moving (after Guy Chase)
in the case:
Temma's Objects - a collaborative project with Rachael McHan
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“Boy, I could tell you things of eldritch forces that would turn your hair white!”
— The man himself
Sam is one of the main protagonists and a first-person narrator of the comic Death Vigil written and illustrated by Stjepan "Nebezial" Sejic.
The model was created based off a review illustration from HyperGeeky. The prints on Sam’s chest are royalty-free clip art lol.
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If you like what I do and you want to see me create your OC, a favorite Bionicle Character, or something else, feel free to look up my Commission Info! I also now have a Patreon page, so please consider supporting!
Tintin is the titular protagonist of The Adventures of Tintin, the comic series by Belgian cartoonist Hergé. The character was created in 1929 and introduced in Le Petit Vingtième, a weekly youth supplement to the Belgian newspaper Le Vingtième Siècle.
en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tintin_(character)
The storefront of the shop "Faraos Cigarer".
Jotaro Kujo is a main protagonist from popular anime show and manga "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure".
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If you like what I do and you want to see me create your OC, a favorite Bionicle Character, or something else, feel free to look up my Commission Info! I also now have a Patreon page, so please consider supporting!
From the guide to this wonderful exhibition:
"McWilliams is one of Australia’s most successful and widely recognised artists. His quirky and whimsical landscapes, depicting wildlife, and domestic and feral species, in Tasmanian bushland, farmyards, gardens and houses, have captivated audiences around Australia and internationally. His works project a great affection for his subjects and while often humorous, can also carry a darker observation on human effects on the environment.
The exhibition and companion publication will be the first holistic survey of McWilliams’ art, exploring his life and career, his place in the canon of Australian and international art, and his empathy with the wildlife and natural environment of Tasmania.
This is a must-see experience for all Tasmanians and anyone who loves the Tasmanian countryside. But be prepared to be watched."
Gentle Protagonist: In Conversation with Michael McWilliams
A Pub Story (After the drinking Began, because don’t all good stories involve Pubs and Drink now?)
How I had my rhinestone bracelet stolen by two "Thieves" in one evening
Told (and instigated) by my Twin Brother
Anyone familiar with my world in RL knows that a lot of my stories are based on the antics my twin Sister and I do in unique thievery infused role-playing games that we have come up with ever since we were young.
My sister has always felt a delicious urge to dress up in pretty clothes and sparkling jewelry, and an even more intense desire to think someone may want to steal her baubles.
I will argue( and we have had friendly ones over this ) that her drawing me into being a thief to her victim, was the key to me realizing my fondness overplaying the protagonist. Though she harbors thoughts that it may have been the other way around.
So that all being said. On should not be surprised at a recent occurrence at our local riverside drinking establishment.
Hailed as the Poet and Peasant Pub.
Incident at a Pub
Last Saturday I was just well into my 20th straight day of work.
With working 10 hours today(Sat) and have to go in at some point Sunday for 4, then 10 hour days all again next week, I was sure it would be a long while before I’d have any type of personal fun with family or friends, with or without drinking.
But then the Pub, my Twin Sister, and a certain diamond bracelet came to the rescue…
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was Saturday in my 4th hour of a ten-hour workday that the texts started coming in from my mates to join them that evening for a dart match at the pub.
I didn’t want to, knowing I’d be here until 7 and have to go back in on Sunday. But they were persistent buggers and since the match started late I easily talked myself into accepting the invite.
I made it to the Poet and the Peasant pub at 7:30 just as the first team was up.
It was a rousing time, drinking, eating, and tossing the darts. I even managed to play decently for a change, I;e not missing the board once.
Before I knew it the clock struck 10:00 and my team was still in the thick of it.
Suddenly I was warmly grasped in a bear hug from behind.
Turning I found I was being mugged by my twin sister and …. then by my giggling cousin Michael(Micke)
The two sillies had been out at a dance and had been drinking, before heading to our pub to finish off the evening.
It was a nice surprise to see them there, in more ways than one.
My sister was indeed looking very pretty, wearing her scooped necked velvet dress, with rhinestone trimmings that looked smashing on her.
With her dress, she wore some of her collection of rhinestone diamonds. The set tonight consisting of long earrings, a bracelet, and a cocktail ring.
The decadent bracelet is something special, a real cracker that is dazzling when she wears it.
A five-strand diamond sparkler. The two outer strands were set with stones about 1 1/2 carats in size. The middle strand was set with 3-carat pear-shaped rhinestones. My sister bought it online at a site called Windsor Royal.
And it looked like something royalty would wear, granted theirs would be real and worth a cool million if not more.
Micke was also looking very cute, wearing a long-sleeved satin blouse with ruffles, gold mesh belt, and long black shiny skirt.
She had on wide gold chains, gold mesh earrings shaped like a kite, and no less than six gem-set rings.
Both looked a treat and soon had all us lads buying them drinks, which I believe was the point of my girl's plan for coming dressed like that and not changing after the dance.
Needless to say by the last hours before we had to be kicked out, none of us were feeling any pain.
We had been well into our third and final
Match when I realized the girls, who had been cheering us on, had disappeared
I shrugged it off figuring that they had just taken off for horizons unknown. Though it was a trifle odd they did not say goodbye.
I played my best, but my lads and I were losing the final match
When my last turn was up I plopped down on the couch to watch our final attempts. Merrick, our best player was up. But the odds were against us.
Then from out of nowhere, Micke plopped down next to me, I looked around but no sight of my sister, though I then heard her laughing by the bar in the next room.
Micke had placed her hand upon her raised knee, and I cast my eyes down to relish a look over her collection of sparkly rings.
The sleeve’s cuff of her satin blouse had slipped up, and I realized that there was a diamond bracelet peeking out.
How in the world had I missed that?
As Micke chatted on about something I was only half-listening to, I nonchalantly reached over and placed my hand on her arm. Then without her notice managed to carefully raise the sleeve of Micke’s satin blouse for a better look.
I then realized it was my Twin’s fancy diamond bracelet Micke was wearing?
“Clever girl, how?” I was thinking as I touched the sparkling bracelet and carefully cut into her conversation and commented to her as she looked down at my finger.
“Pretty bracelet....”
“It’s not mine silly twit, it’s Your sister’s !” She answered with a pleasant little twittering laugh
“Oh...” I answered in an open sentence with my best shot at a perplexed look.
Raising her arm and flashing the diamonds set in the bracelet, creating amazing sparkles as it was wrapped snugly around her wrist, she happily confided in me her story.
Apparently the pair, Micke, and my twin sister had been in the loo together to freshen up.
My sister had removed her bracelet and ring to have a wash-up after some of her drink had accidentally spilled on her hands.
On a lark, Micke, who had come up from behind, had touched Sis on the opposite shoulder, and as she turned away, snatched the bracelet up and got away out the door without being caught.
She had put it in and was now wearing it around as a teaser to my Sister.
“No worries luv, I’ll give it back to her at Sunday Service tomorrow.”
Micke told pacifically me, though I had no concerns that she would not give it back.
“The last call” came a friendly command from the pubs’ bar in the other room...
“Come on, “ said Micke, grabbing my arm
Go on ahead Lass. Meet you thereafter this last lad finishes his round
“Let the finale drinking now heavily begin.” She added with a challenge in her charmingly sweet voice as she swished away
I studied her thoughtfully as she disappeared around the corner.
My eyes traveled down the backside of Her shiny blouse and I caught a last look at her swinging arm.
Her sleeve covered the bracelet, but I knew it was there.
That was the problem
For now, feeling confident from alcohol I had an objective that was tickling my fancy.
The only question was how I would achieve it?
^^^^^^^^^^^
Since Micke with a degree of cleverness had nicked the diamond bracelet from my twin sister, I would try and nick it from Micke.
I meant to acquire the bracelet from Micke and make it home without being caught out by either girl.
I had read in a short story once about a scoundrel who was determined to part a wealthy American lady from the jeweled necklace she was wearing, mainly because she was nieve enough to wear it out in public.
And now in an odd way, I sorta knew what that character had felt.
For me, it hopefully would not prove difficult if I could just manage a way to distract Micke.
I knew the clasp of that bracelet, having removed it from my twin on several of the role-playing thievery games/adventures we do.
Including one a few months back. Her favorite damsel in distress game; a role-play she calls help honey. This we had played about a month ago at the old cemetery around midnight.
My sister had worn a green taffeta bridesmaid gown recently picked up at the thrift.
With it, she had worn a nice collection of rhinestones, including the bracelet. Playing a princess who has been lured away from her prince, innocently not realizing the plot to lead her off was to rob her of the jewels she wore.
That had seemed a long while ago since I had had a bit of play and seeing Our Cousin Micke now wearing that bracelet had whetted my appetite to do some playing again.
My mind raced through a myriad of ideas.
Most of them ran the gauntlet of just silly to outlandish. None were clever.
I knew there was not much time anyway so I unhappily had decided to just shelve the idea.
We also had lost the match ...
I rose as we shook hands, then left to head to the bar for final rounds.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Now I am writing this at 3 am Sunday, still two sheets to the wind, before heading to sleep.
Laying next to my laptop is my sister's diamond rhinestone bracelet…
The very one Micke had nicked and been wearing around at the pub.
Of course, once the loss is noticed I will be the prime suspect.
But my cell will be off all day at work tomorrow, so they will have all day to wonder and stew over how I did it before I can enlighten them to the fact that l was the thief, and decide whether or not to keep it a secret as to my method if they fail to figure out.
Oh, and let Sis know my ransom demands for its return... something quick and easy like her princess in green taffeta meeting the culprit, at the old cemetery to get her bracelet back.
Anyway, it was truly an inspired moment that allowed me to slip away the lovely diamonds unnoticed from around Micke’s wrist.
And a rather proud one at that, even if my victim was giggling silly drunk at the time.
Please read on as I brag on about it
>>>>>>
After Micke left, my mind was not letting go of wanting to acquire the diamond bracelet I now knew our cousin was wearing.
As the final drinking now heavily progressed, I could tell neither girl’s mind was thinking about the bracelet.
They were concentrating on giving out hugs to anyone buying them last shots.
It was in the middle of this commotion that I saw Micke wrapping her arms around a shot buying lad, the bracelet peeking out from her satin blouse’s sleeve, that I had an inkling of an idea.
With really no thought or plan as to how exactly this would give me a crack at the bracelet, I sprung into action.
I quickly bought two shots.
Told the barmaid,with a wink, to tell my sister hers was from a lad named Shamus and that Micke’s shot was from Merrick
Merrick was alone practicing in the dart room. Shamus was at the opposite end of the barroom.
This would split the girls up, which was the first step.
Giving me the second step of Micke pretty much being separated from the herd.
As for the third step, I was merely hoping there would be one.
I am sure a professional thief would have already had all of the steps figured out, no sweat.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The plan, however, began to work smooth as silk.
I went and stood next to my Sister and Micke as the barmaid approached us.
The barmaid served the girls their shots, gave them the message (winking back at me), and immediately the two girls split off.
Micke began to scurry, almost tripping over the hem of her skirt, over to Merrick, with me in close tow.
Reaching the surprised lad she grabbed and enveloped him in a tight warm hug, leaning heavily against him.
I reacted without any thought...
It took only seconds but seemed to me far longer.
Seeing no one watching us, I came in from around behind and pressed up playfully against them, with Micke’s hands at my stomach. I could feel her fancy rings digging splendidly into my skin, through the thin white turtleneck I was wearing, as I grasped her arms just above the elbows and pressed into her.
I slipped my fingers ever so nimbly down to her blouse's slick sleeve, and pulling the cuff of her blouse up with my right hand, exposed the shimmering bracelet.
As I held the blouse’s cuff up with two fingers of my right hand, I pressed my thump up into her arm to divert any focus of unusual feelings she may experience around her wrist.
With the diamond bracelet now exposed, it was a simple matter of locating the clasp, with my left hand, wedging my index finger in between Micke’s wrist and the bracelet.
Almost at the same time, I managed to quickly press my left thumb up against the hinge to release the clip and grasp a loose end as it separated ( thanking in my mind pretty Micke for not setting the safety chain).
And “Bobs your Uncle”, I had the fancy diamond-encrusted bracelet she was wearing slipped off from around her wrist and secreted in my pocket, easy peasy as you please. And thank you, Micke.
As I let go of her arm with my right hand, the white satin blouse’s long cuff slipped back down covering up the evidence of my dirty deed.
^^^^^^^^^^^
That deed was done I talked to Merrick for a few minutes before I rejoined the girls, remaining cool as a cucumber over my secret.
They didn’t suspect a thing. And as I joined in with the final partying before closing, a perfect idea popped into my head.
I had been talking to Micke while over her shoulder watching my sister, and the long sparking earrings she was wearing. Thinking that if they had been real they would be worth a fortune, like her bracelet.
And how any thief worth his salt would have hated to pass them up, or her diamond cocktail ring.
Then it hit me, an idea of how if I was a professional thief, I could trick my sister, along with her diamond earrings and ring, into a trap.
Bloody hell, If I hadn’t to be at work the next morning I would have attempted it.
My idea had been to sneak out the back and using the pubs stationary, leave a note on Micke's car saying
Lady, I have your diamonds. If you wants them back it will cost you. Meet me at the churchyard.
The pair would have fallen into it, curious as to what game I was playing, as well as how I had taken the bracelet.
So when they showed up they would be met by the thief who would then rob the pair of the rest of their jewelry for being so gullible.
What a devious lot we play thieves are!
But it, of course, did not happen. Only the bracelet would be nicked from the fine clothed, pretty damsel this evening.
We all together left at closing.
I gave the girls warm hugs goodbye (inwardly smirking) and watched as they drove off in Mickes Italian made sports car
I turned and took the wooded path that led down to my cottage.
I lit a pipe and happily made my way home, placing a hand in my pocket and fingering the diamonds I had nicked, just because she had been wearing them out in public!
Deliver Us ….
“……………………………………”
“…………………………………..”
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With this photographic story made last year 2022, in the town of Limina, in the province of Messina (I made the previous story in the town of Calatabiano in the province of Catania), of the two typical traditional Sicilian religious feasts that have in common the devotion towards San Filippo, I end with this Saint (with the next two stories, I will take a break, with two topics of a different nature, different from the Sicilian religious feasts); Saint Philip is depicted in "black" color because a legend sees Him as the protagonist of a fight in the Underworld against Lucifer, from whose fight He comes out covered in soot. Saint Philip is a much celebrated saint here in Sicily, but not only that, He is also celebrated in the Salerno area, in Calabria (following the path he took during his life) up to the cult of Him present on the island of Malta. The proximity to Taormina (the country where I live and work), the towns of Calatabiano and Limina, made my task easier, in both towns the traditional feasts, take place over two days; in Limina during the first day the Saint is carried on the shoulders from a church located on the outskirts of the center of the town of Limina to "Murazzo locality", it is about 8 kilometers of uninterrupted running (except for a brief stop for recollection in the locality of "Durbi"), therefore eight days away (the so-called "octave") the Saint comes out carried on his shoulder with an "unbridled-fiendish" run from another church in Limina, arriving after a very steep and very tiring climb up to the top of " Calvario mountain", to then go back down and wander among the districts of the town, (and beyond, up to the district of Durbi, to then return): it is not a question of a simple wandering, in well-established moments, the Saint is "made to dance" with an unbridled coming and going on straight paths alternating with a whirling rotary movement on itself: this is a substantial difference with the float of Calatabiano, the latter is very heavy (about 12 quintals), it follows an impervious path, very steep and steep, with stone "steps" partially missing (the ancient path to reach the Norman castle), the "parody" with the exorcisms performed by the Black Saint, consists in the relative speed impressed on the Saint during the path, instead in Limina, the vara being lighter, allows to devotees rapid, rectilinear and swirling gaits, they too recall the convulsive movements made by the demoniacs subjected to the exorcisms of the Saint (a certain risk of rollover is inherent in both vare). In the town of Calatabiano San Filippo acquires the appellative of "Siriaco", i.e. coming from Syria, while in the town of Limina he acquires the appellation "d'Agira", from the name of the town, in the province of Enna, where He will die: is always the same saint (the physiognomy of the face changes slightly), in both statues the right hand is raised to send a blessing, or to perform an exorcism, the left hand holds a book (it is the "apotropaic" document that gave Him St. Peter to enable Him to defeat the forces of Evil). As in the previous story on San Filippo of Calatabiano, also in this one by Limina, in inserting the photographs I did not use a "chronological criterion" of the two days. Now a few brief notes on the life of this saint, also to try to understand how the cult of him was born in Sicily, but also in other countries. There are two sources that speak of San Filippo, called "the Chronicles of Eusebio d'Agira" and "the Chronicles of Athanasius", these chronicles are largely discordant with each other, except for the descriptions on His characteristics as a priest and miracle worker, on His ability to perform exorcisms by driving out demons from the possessed. He was probably born in Thrace (south-eastern region of the Balkan peninsula in 40 AD (?), at the time it was a Roman province, in the time of Arcadius, Eastern Roman emperor, born of a Syrian father and a Roman mother, in during his childhood he was educated to the principles of Christianity which was spreading also in those lands.He comes from Thrace to Rome, is ordained a priest by Peter, and it is by him that he is sent to Sicily (pagan land under Roman rule), with the task to evangelize those places and perform exorcisms; he disembarked at Capo Faro in Messina starting his mandate immediately, then he traveled along the eastern part of Sicily heading south towards Etna (here Limina and Calatabiano, affected by his passage, thanks to His ability as a healer and exorcist, they become devoted to him); thus he reaches the town of Agira (Enna), where He dies there after forty years of Apostolate on the island.
Con questo racconto fotografico, realizzato in due giornate nel maggio dello scorso anno 2022 nel paese di Limina, in provincia di Messina (il precedente racconto l’ho realizzato nel paese di Calatabiano in provincia di Catania), delle due tipiche feste religiose tradizionali siciliane che hanno in comune la devozione verso San Filippo, termino con questo Santo; Egli viene raffigurato di colore “nero” poiché una leggenda lo vede protagonista di una lotta negli Inferi contro Lucifero, dalla cui lotta ne viene fuori ricoperto di fuliggine. San Filippo è un santo molto festeggiato qui in Sicilia, ma lo è anche nel Salernitano, in Calabria (seguendo il suo percorso fatto in vita) fino ad arrivare al suo culto presente nell’isola di Malta. La vicinanza con Taormina (paese nel quale abito e lavoro), dei paesi di Calatabiano e Limina, mi ha facilitato il compito; in entrambi i paesi le feste si svolgono in due giornate; a Limina durante la prima giornata il Santo viene portato in spalla da una chiesa posta in lieve periferia dal centro del paese di Limina fino “al borgo Murazzo”, sono circa 8 chilometri di corsa ininterrotta (tranne una breve sosta di raccoglimento in località “Durbi”), quindi ad otto giorni di distanza (la cosiddetta “ottava”) il Santo esce portato in spalla con una corsa “sfrenata-indiavolata” da un’altra chiesa di Limina, giungendo dopo una ripidissima e faticosissima salita fino all’apice del “Monte Calvario”, per poi ridiscenderne e girovagare tra i quartieri del paese, (ed oltre, fino alla contrada di Durbi, per poi ritornare): non si tratta di un semplice girovagare, in momenti ben stabiliti, il Santo viene “fatto ballare” con uno sfrenato andirivieni su percorsi rettilinei alternato ad un movimento rotatorio vorticoso su se stesso: questa è una differenza sostanziale con la vara di Calatabiano, quest’ultima è pesantissima (circa 12 quintali), percorre un percorso impervio, molto ripido e scosceso, con “gradoni” in pietra molto alti in parte mancanti (l’antico percorso per giungere al castello Normanno), la “parodia” con gli esorcismi compiuti dal Santo Nero, consiste nella relativa velocità impressa al Santo durante il percorso, invece a Limina, la vara essendo più leggera, consente ai devoti andature rapide, rettilinee e vorticose, anch’essi rievocano i movimenti convulsi compiuti dagli indemoniati sottoposti agli esorcismi del Santo (un certo rischio di capovolgimento è insito in entrambe le vare). Nel paese di Calatabiano San Filippo acquista l’appellativo di “Siriaco”, cioè proveniente dalla Siria, mentre nel paese di Limina Egli acquista l’appellativo “d’Agira”, dal nome del paese, in provincia di Enna, dove egli morirà: è sempre lo stesso santo (cambia un pochino la fisionomia del volto), in entrambe le statue la mano destra è alzata ad inviare una benedizione, oppure ad effettuare un esorcismo, la mano sinistra stringe un libro (è il documento “apotropaico” che gli diede San Pietro, per consentirgli di vincere le forze del Male). Come nel precedente racconto su San Filippo di Calatabiano, anche in questo di Limina, nell’inserire le fotografie non ho utilizzato un “criterio cronologico” delle due giornate. Ora qualche breve cenno sulla vita di questo santo, anche per cercare di capire come nasce il suo culto in Sicilia, ma anche in altri paesi. Le fonti che parlano di San Filippo sono due, chiamate “le Cronache di Eusebio d’Agira” e “le Cronache di Atanasio”, queste cronache tra loro sono in buona parte discordanti, tranne le descrizioni sulle sue caratteristiche di sacerdote e di taumaturgo, sulle sue capacità di compiere esorcismi scacciando i demoni dagli impossessati. Egli nacque probabilmente in Tracia (regione sud-orientale della penisola balcanica nel 40 d.C. (?), all’epoca era una provincia romana, ai tempi d’Arcadio, imperatore romano d’Oriente, nato da padre siriano e da madre romana, nella sua infanzia fu educato ai principi del Cristianesimo che andava propagandosi anche in quelle terre. Egli giunge dalla Tracia a Roma, viene ordinato sacerdote da Pietro, ed è proprio da Lui che viene mandato in Sicilia (terra pagana sotto il dominio Romano), col compito di evangelizzare quei luoghi e compiere esorcismi; sbarca a Capo Faro a Messina iniziando fin da subito il suo mandato, poi percorre la fascia orientale della Sicilia dirigendosi a sud verso l’Etna (ecco che Limina e Calatabiano, interessati dal suo passaggio, grazie alle sue capacità di guaritore ed esorcista, gli divengono devote); giunge così al paese di Agira (Enna), dove lì muore dopo quarant’anni di Apostolato nell’isola.
As promised, here is my rendition of the famous Crysis protagonist Prophet! Though the Crysis 2 and 3 variants of the nano suit are essentially the same thing I like to consider this the Crysis 3 variant. This figure was really fun for me to paint, because the character's appearance is like no other. Everything on this figure is 100% free handed, and I attempted to be as accurate as possible. Though I rarely do this, there was a bit of amateur sculpting work performed; however it was necessary in achieving the right concept for the figure's general feel. I also added a few different colors to the visor to represent it's fluorescence. Prophet's definitive Crysis 3 weapon, the predator bow, is a highly intricate and detailed piece of work thankfully BrickForge had a satisfying one to get the job done!
If you favorite, I'd love for you to turn your thoughts into words to hear your opinion in the comments!
September 2019
expired film (03/2015)
Please visit and follow me on Facebook / Instagram / my Website.
Note: Do not invite this picture to private/hidden and so called award groups. Thank you.
Over at least 1 hour and 20 minutes (8:09 to 9:30 am), I observed these two male Gila Woodpeckers on and off fighting to the death, on the ground. This photos was taken at 9:30 am. .Even after this loser seemed dead, the winner would come back and hammer at its head some more.. I took photos off and on and a few videos. Plaza, Ajo, Arizona, USA. 12 November 2023
All the fight photos are from 3636 to 3651 on my Flickr page.
Links to Gila Woodpecker fight videos on my YouTube channel
Video 59: youtu.be/O2c8CbKROrA?si=O3U51lduj6tOesGO
Video 60: youtu.be/w0a1XLlKs-c?si=bi9_mqMWAPvt3TRx
Video 61: youtu.be/V8nN1npN40Q?si=JHVAWowdqsLVqcsF//youtu.be/w0a1XLlKs-c?si=bi9_mqMWAPvt3TRx
Video 61: youtu.be/V8nN1npN40Q?si=JHVAWowdqsLVqcsF
ALL IMAGES ARE BEST seen On Black, yours too!
In the limelight, performing, posing for our pleasure.
A whole series of performing double tulips, with heavy heads, and oh so frilly and expressive!
Thank you for your visit, M, (*_*)
More of my other work here: www.indigo2photography.com
IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN (BY LAW!!!) TO USE ANY OF MY image or TEXT on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
Our protagonists after retrieving (some) of their tac gear. Gotta love that 90s tacticool aesthetic.
Debut of the protagonist! ~
She is a stray cat, and I get along for half a year.
She is a top model. Every time when I press the camera shutter, she will have different expression. Her feelings of rich and varied movements.
Her this expression is really fascinating.
经常想问她，你究竟那么多感情那么多思想可以分担下吗？
I’ve included these two images from books in my own collection, because they illustrate how internationally important Barbara Hepworth was as a sculptor (at a time when all the major protagonists were men), and also to illustrate the sheer scale of some of her work.
Take a close look at that photograph of Hepworth standing beside her prototype of “Single Form” at the foundry in London. This particular sculpture is important because it was commissioned by the United Nations to remember the work of the late, and some would say the greatest Secretary General of the UN, Dag Hammarskjöld (1905-1961). He was killed in a plane crash in Africa on a UN Mission. Hammarskjöld was also a mystic, and in his collection of spiritual writing and reflections, Markings (released after his death), Barbara Hepworth’s sculpture is pictured on the cover.
So who was Barbara Hepworth? The short answer is, one of the greatest sculptors of the 20th century, and a truly innovative Modernist artist. She was born in Wakefield, Yorkshire in 1903, and at school her artistic talents were recognised quickly, so she was able to take more art classes rather than participating in sports. In 1920 she spent a year at the Leeds School of Arts, where one of her classmates was Henry Moore (1898-1986). Moore’s artistic reputation doesn’t need me to go into details here, except to say some of the sculptural innovations attributed to him, were in fact pioneered by Hepworth. For example, she became the first sculptor to put the hole in sculpture (when you see some of her work this will become obvious).
After Leeds, Hepworth won a scholarship to the prestigious Royal College of Art in London in 1921. She received her Diploma from the RCA in 1924 and was already beginning to make an impact. As her work developed she gained equal facility in carving wood and stone, and also molded in bronze. After a short marriage to a fellow sculptor, John Skeaping (1901-1980), she met the love of her life, painter Ben Nicholson (1894-1982). At the start of WW2 Hepworth and Nicholson went to live in St Ives, Cornwell, and she was to remain there for the rest of her life. Inspired by the rugged seascapes of Cornwell, Hepworth started to develop a very clear philosophy of art. Though her work was abstract, it was inspired by nature.
During the 1950s she travelled to Greece and the Aegean Islands, and was most impressed with the ancient religious centre at Delphi. There is no doubt this ancient Greek aesthetic began to work its way into her own art and into the titles of many of her works. She also immersed herself in the local community of St Ives, sponsoring a range of artistic endeavours, so much so that other artists were attracted to Cornwell, preferring the lifestyle to that of large cities like London.
Barbara Hepworth’s large studio with gardens became a real attraction in St Ives, especially as her international reputation grew during the 50s and 60s. Sadly, it was here on the night of May 20, 1975 that Hepworth lit a cigarette in bed. She was also in the habit of taking a sleeping pill, probably because her mind was so filled with the busyness of projects and ideas. This combination proved deadly, and Hepworth died in the ensuing fire. She was just 72 and still at the peak of her artistic powers.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Hepworth
Barbara Hepworth – 'A New Form for Sculpture' | TateShots
www.youtube.com/watch?v=yv77WKiUxm8
Barbara Hepworth (Full BBC documentary 1961)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=rIVGkdNn2B8
* These book shots were taken with the Leica D-Lux 7 in natural light.
Lanira, lead protagonist of the new VR Game 'Secrets of the forgotten mysteries'.
It is still unknown what she's looking for and for what purpose, but one thing is for sure, she is unstoppable and determined to accomplish the task she had.
Dia internacional de la dona.
Les dones són les protagonistes de la transformació de la societat per aconseguir apoderar-se i decidir com volen viure. Per això, els cal tenir la capacitat de rebel·lar-se i passar del conformisme amb la situació injusta que viuen en molts llocs del planeta a l’acció, creient en les seves capacitats i possibilitats.
No estic acceptant les coses que no puc canviar, estic canviant les coses que no puc acceptar. (Angela Davis)
La vostra lluita la nostra lluita.
Día internacional de la mujer.
Las mujeres son las protagonistas de la transformación de la sociedad para lograr apoderarse y decidir cómo quieren vivir. Por ello, necesitan tener la capacidad de rebelarse y pasar del conformismo con la situación injusta que viven en muchos lugares del planeta a la acción, creyendo en sus capacidades y posibilidades.
No estoy aceptando las cosas que no puedo cambiar, estoy cambiando las cosas que no puedo aceptar. (Angela Davis)
Vuestra lucha tambien es nuestra
Protagonist of Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" series. It's my sister's favorite comic series, and I made it as a surprise as she's out of town until Brickworld. The last of 6 busts I will be bringing to the con.
Thanks to my fellow V-Luggers for brainstorming about how to do the hair with me.
Aloy is the protagonist of Horizon Zero Dawn and the sole playable character throughout the game.
I designed this minifig just to complete the last and most awesome model by Nicola Stocchi: the Thunderjaw.
More renders here!
#mecabricks #blender #render #3d
© 2017 - Nicola Stocchi & Gabriele Zannotti
This picture is not an official product of or endorsed by The LEGO Group, Sony Corporation or Guerrilla Games. All images and logos are properties of those companies and are only used here for fan art.
My work from the two-person exhibition titled Dear Protagonist, with Maggie Hubbard and myself at the Hammond Arts Center - October 4 - 31
On the left in back:
Without Moving (after Guy Chase)
On the right:
in the case:
Temma's Objects - a collaborative project with Rachael McHan
.
Als deutlicher Protagonist kristallisierte sich der mintgrüne 628 526 der WestFrankenBahn am 04.06.2019 auf der Madonnenlandbahn heraus. Hier schlängelte er sich neben der B47 bei Walldürn an einem Gehöft als RB23514 (Seckach-Miltenberg) entlang. Der Spitzname "Gelenkbus" wird hier besonders verdeutlicht.
Arwen Moreth - Protagonist to approaching murder mystery 'Darkness in Riverwood'.
Arwen - (Are-wehn): "Noble maiden" Origin of Arwen: Welsh.
Moreth - Darkness/Night (môr) Female (eth) Origin: Sindarin language by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Brief: A sombre dark elf with extraordinary abilities. Currently residing in Solitude as an imperial investigator. At the moment she has but one assignment, to solve the troubling murder that’s left a small town in despair. The question isn’t if she will uncover the truth...it’s when.
Darkness in Riverwood - www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCy0GSvPaoU
Skyrim Pix Episode 13 - www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3dA6cn0_wU
Another one of my images, and the next segment of the description of the Amanda Williams exhibit at the Chicago Cultural Center:
"Colors are extracted from buildings and products that are frequent fixtures in Black American urban landscapes nationwide - currency exchanges, red Flamin' Hot Cheetos, Ultra Sheen grease.
This project imagines artful ways of constructing new narratives about zero-value landscapes, allowing such places to shed their identity of victimhood and instead embrace the role of protagonists..."
A Pub Story (After the drinking Began)
Anyone familiar with my world in RL knows that a lot of my stories are based on the antics my twin Sister and I do in unique thievery infused role-playing games that we have come up with ever since we were young.
My sister has always felt a delicious urge to dress up in pretty clothes and sparkling jewelry, and an even more intense desire to think someone may want to steal her baubles.
I will argue( and we have had friendly ones over this ) that her drawing me into being a thief to her victim, was the key to me realizing my fondness overplaying the protagonist. Though she harbors thoughts that it may have been the other way around.
So that all being said. On should not be surprised at a recent occurrence at our local riverside drinking establishment.
Hailed as the Poet and Peasant Pub.
Incident at a Pub
Last Saturday I was just well into my 20th straight day of work.
With working 10 hours today(Sat) and have to go in at some point Sunday for 4, then 10 hour days all again next week, I was sure it would be a long while before I’d have any type of personal fun with family or friends, with or without drinking.
But then the Pub, my Twin Sister, and a certain diamond bracelet came to the rescue…
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was Saturday in my 4th hour of a ten-hour workday that the texts started coming in from my mates to join them that evening for a dart match at the pub.
I didn’t want to, knowing I’d be here until 7 and have to go back in on Sunday. But they were persistent buggers and since the match started late I easily talked myself into accepting the invite.
I made it to the Poet and the Peasant pub at 7:30 just as the first team was up.
It was a rousing time, drinking, eating, and tossing the darts. I even managed to play decently for a change, I;e not missing the board once.
Before I knew it the clock struck 10:00 and my team was still in the thick of it.
Suddenly I was warmly grasped in a bear hug from behind.
Turning I found I was being mugged by my twin sister and …. then by my giggling cousin Michael(Micke)
The two sillies had been out at a dance and had been drinking, before heading to our pub to finish off the evening.
It was a nice surprise to see them there, in more ways than one.
My sister was indeed looking very pretty, wearing her scooped necked velvet dress, with rhinestone trimmings that looked smashing on her.
With her dress, she wore some of her collection of rhinestone diamonds. The set tonight consisting of long earrings, a bracelet, and a cocktail ring.
The decadent bracelet is something special, a real cracker that is dazzling when she wears it.
A five-strand diamond sparkler. The two outer strands were set with stones about 1 1/2 carats in size. The middle strand was set with 3-carat pear-shaped rhinestones. My sister bought it online at a site called Windsor Royal.
And it looked like something royalty would wear, granted theirs would be real and worth a cool million if not more.
Micke was also looking very cute, wearing a long-sleeved satin blouse with ruffles, gold mesh belt, and long black shiny skirt.
She had on wide gold chains, gold mesh earrings shaped like a kite, and no less than six gem-set rings.
Both looked a treat and soon had all us lads buying them drinks, which I believe was the point of my girl's plan for coming dressed like that and not changing after the dance.
Needless to say by the last hours before we had to be kicked out, none of us were feeling any pain.
We had been well into our third and final
Match when I realized the girls, who had been cheering us on, had disappeared
I shrugged it off figuring that they had just taken off for horizons unknown. Though it was a trifle odd they did not say goodbye.
I played my best, but my lads and I were losing the final match
When my last turn was up I plopped down on the couch to watch our final attempts. Merrick, our best player was up. But the odds were against us.
Then from out of nowhere, Micke plopped down next to me, I looked around but no sight of my sister, though I then heard her laughing by the bar in the next room.
Micke had placed her hand upon her raised knee, and I cast my eyes down to relish a look over her collection of sparkly rings.
The sleeve’s cuff of her satin blouse had slipped up, and I realized that there was a diamond bracelet peeking out.
How in the world had I missed that?
As Micke chatted on about something I was only half-listening to, I nonchalantly reached over and placed my hand on her arm. Then without her notice managed to carefully raise the sleeve of Micke’s satin blouse for a better look.
I then realized it was my Twin’s fancy diamond bracelet Micke was wearing?
“Clever girl, how?” I was thinking as I touched the sparkling bracelet and carefully cut into her conversation and commented to her as she looked down at my finger.
“Pretty bracelet....”
“It’s not mine silly twit, it’s Your sister’s !” She answered with a pleasant little twittering laugh
“Oh...” I answered in an open sentence with my best shot at a perplexed look.
Raising her arm and flashing the diamonds set in the bracelet, creating amazing sparkles as it was wrapped snugly around her wrist, she happily confided in me her story.
Apparently the pair, Micke, and my twin sister had been in the loo together to freshen up.
My sister had removed her bracelet and ring to have a wash-up after some of her drink had accidentally spilled on her hands.
On a lark, Micke, who had come up from behind, had touched Sis on the opposite shoulder, and as she turned away, snatched the bracelet up and got away out the door without being caught.
She had put it in and was now wearing it around as a teaser to my Sister.
“No worries luv, I’ll give it back to her at Sunday Service tomorrow.”
Micke told pacifically me, though I had no concerns that she would not give it back.
“The last call” came a friendly command from the pubs’ bar in the other room...
“Come on, “ said Micke, grabbing my arm
Go on ahead Lass. Meet you thereafter this last lad finishes his round
“Let the finale drinking now heavily begin.” She added with a challenge in her charmingly sweet voice as she swished away
I studied her thoughtfully as she disappeared around the corner.
My eyes traveled down the backside of Her shiny blouse and I caught a last look at her swinging arm.
Her sleeve covered the bracelet, but I knew it was there.
That was the problem
For now, feeling confident from alcohol I had an objective that was tickling my fancy.
The only question was how I would achieve it?
^^^^^^^^^^^
Since Micke with a degree of cleverness had nicked the diamond bracelet from my twin sister, I would try and nick it from Micke.
I meant to acquire the bracelet from Micke and make it home without being caught out by either girl.
I had read in a short story once about a scoundrel who was determined to part a wealthy American lady from the jeweled necklace she was wearing, mainly because she was nieve enough to wear it out in public.
And now in an odd way, I sorta knew what that character had felt.
For me, it hopefully would not prove difficult if I could just manage a way to distract Micke.
I knew the clasp of that bracelet, having removed it from my twin on several of the role-playing thievery games/adventures we do.
Including one a few months back. Her favorite damsel in distress game; a role-play she calls help honey. This we had played about a month ago at the old cemetery around midnight.
My sister had worn a green taffeta bridesmaid gown recently picked up at the thrift.
With it, she had worn a nice collection of rhinestones, including the bracelet. Playing a princess who has been lured away from her prince, innocently not realizing the plot to lead her off was to rob her of the jewels she wore.
That had seemed a long while ago since I had had a bit of play and seeing Our Cousin Micke now wearing that bracelet had whetted my appetite to do some playing again.
My mind raced through a myriad of ideas.
Most of them ran the gauntlet of just silly to outlandish. None were clever.
I knew there was not much time anyway so I unhappily had decided to just shelve the idea.
We also had lost the match ...
I rose as we shook hands, then left to head to the bar for final rounds.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Now I am writing this at 3 am Sunday, still two sheets to the wind, before heading to sleep.
Laying next to my laptop is my sister's diamond rhinestone bracelet…
The very one Micke had nicked and been wearing around at the pub.
Of course, once the loss is noticed I will be the prime suspect.
But my cell will be off all day at work tomorrow, so they will have all day to wonder and stew over how I did it before I can enlighten them to the fact that l was the thief, and decide whether or not to keep it a secret as to my method if they fail to figure out.
Oh, and let Sis know my ransom demands for its return... something quick and easy like her princess in green taffeta meeting the culprit, at the old cemetery to get her bracelet back.
Anyway, it was truly an inspired moment that allowed me to slip away the lovely diamonds unnoticed from around Micke’s wrist.
And a rather proud one at that, even if my victim was giggling silly drunk at the time.
Please read on as I brag on about it
>>>>>>
After Micke left, my mind was not letting go of wanting to acquire the diamond bracelet I now knew our cousin was wearing.
As the final drinking now heavily progressed, I could tell neither girl’s mind was thinking about the bracelet.
They were concentrating on giving out hugs to anyone buying them last shots.
It was in the middle of this commotion that I saw Micke wrapping her arms around a shot buying lad, the bracelet peeking out from her satin blouse’s sleeve, that I had an inkling of an idea.
With really no thought or plan as to how exactly this would give me a crack at the bracelet, I sprung into action.
I quickly bought two shots.
Told the barmaid,with a wink, to tell my sister hers was from a lad named Shamus and that Micke’s shot was from Merrick
Merrick was alone practicing in the dart room. Shamus was at the opposite end of the barroom.
This would split the girls up, which was the first step.
Giving me the second step of Micke pretty much being separated from the herd.
As for the third step, I was merely hoping there would be one.
I am sure a professional thief would have already had all of the steps figured out, no sweat.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The plan, however, began to work smooth as silk.
I went and stood next to my Sister and Micke as the barmaid approached us.
The barmaid served the girls their shots, gave them the message (winking back at me), and immediately the two girls split off.
Micke began to scurry, almost tripping over the hem of her skirt, over to Merrick, with me in close tow.
Reaching the surprised lad she grabbed and enveloped him in a tight warm hug, leaning heavily against him.
I reacted without any thought...
It took only seconds but seemed to me far longer.
Seeing no one watching us, I came in from around behind and pressed up playfully against them, with Micke’s hands at my stomach. I could feel her fancy rings digging splendidly into my skin, through the thin white turtleneck I was wearing, as I grasped her arms just above the elbows and pressed into her.
I slipped my fingers ever so nimbly down to her blouse's slick sleeve, and pulling the cuff of her blouse up with my right hand, exposed the shimmering bracelet.
As I held the blouse’s cuff up with two fingers of my right hand, I pressed my thump up into her arm to divert any focus of unusual feelings she may experience around her wrist.
With the diamond bracelet now exposed, it was a simple matter of locating the clasp, with my left hand, wedging my index finger in between Micke’s wrist and the bracelet.
Almost at the same time, I managed to quickly press my left thumb up against the hinge to release the clip and grasp a loose end as it separated ( thanking in my mind pretty Micke for not setting the safety chain).
And “Bobs your Uncle”, I had the fancy diamond-encrusted bracelet she was wearing slipped off from around her wrist and secreted in my pocket, easy peasy as you please. And thank you, Micke.
As I let go of her arm with my right hand, the white satin blouse’s long cuff slipped back down covering up the evidence of my dirty deed.
^^^^^^^^^^^
That deed was done I talked to Merrick for a few minutes before I rejoined the girls, remaining cool as a cucumber over my secret.
They didn’t suspect a thing. And as I joined in with the final partying before closing, a perfect idea popped into my head.
I had been talking to Micke while over her shoulder watching my sister, and the long sparking earrings she was wearing. Thinking that if they had been real they would be worth a fortune, like her bracelet.
And how any thief worth his salt would have hated to pass them up, or her diamond cocktail ring.
Then it hit me, an idea of how if I was a professional thief, I could trick my sister, along with her diamond earrings and ring, into a trap.
Bloody hell, If I hadn’t to be at work the next morning I would have attempted it.
My idea had been to sneak out the back and using the pubs stationary, leave a note on Micke's car saying
Lady, I have your diamonds. If you wants them back it will cost you. Meet me at the churchyard.
The pair would have fallen into it, curious as to what game I was playing, as well as how I had taken the bracelet.
So when they showed up they would be met by the thief who would then rob the pair of the rest of their jewelry for being so gullible.
What a devious lot we play thieves are!
But it, of course, did not happen. Only the bracelet would be nicked from the fine clothed, pretty damsel this evening.
We all together left at closing.
I gave the girls warm hugs goodbye (inwardly smirking) and watched as they drove off in Mickes Italian made sports car
I turned and took the wooded path that led down to my cottage.
I lit a pipe and happily made my way home, placing a hand in my pocket and fingering the diamonds I had nicked, just because she had been wearing them out in public!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Soldat Kurt ''Klaus'' Amsel is a former soldier who defected from the Wehrmacht. He is one of the main protagonists that's going to appear in a future brickfilm of mine, called ''Jacqueline's Letter''.
Background
Kurt Amsel was born in the city of Dresden. At a young age he showed signs of intellect and at the age of 20 he went to university. During that time Germany sufferd greatly at the hands of the economic crisis of the 1930s. Kurt wasn't sure if his family and himself could afford to stay at the university any longer. He was one of the many Germans who were persuaded by Hitler's charamestic talking and he soon after joined the Wehrmacht. He had potential to join the infamous Waffen-SS, but for unknown reasons he chosen not to.
He fought for the ideals of Germany.
Most of his friends joined the German resistance agianst the Nazi's, but most of them died.
A few days after D-day. Kurt was tasked along with his devision to defend occupied France from any allied advancements. In the heat of the battle he got lost from his comrades and encountered a US soldier and a young Jewish girl. After a small fight between the two soldiers, Kurt was taken prisoner by the US soldier named: Ryan Oswald. Kurt was brainwashed by Nazi propaganda, but was willing to help Ryan and the girl. Because he didn't had a choice at first. He's wanted by his own comrads for desertion and he's wanted by the allies because he's fought for the Germans. He eventualy grow a bound with Ryan and the girl named Jacqueline and vows to help her to find her father.
Kurt is actually the smartest of the group. He can speak a bit English and can understand Ryan based on sign language and voice tones. He originally showed a dislike towards the two, because Ryan was a US soldier and in his point of views they were the invaders. Jacqueline was a jew. But his dislike towards her isn't that great than of that of Ryan. He eventually bounded with the two as they tried to survive behind enemy lines.
Originally Ryan wanted to shoot him, but Jacqueline insisted to bring him along. He sometimes get into a heavy discussion with Ryan over time to time, but it mostly end with Jacqueline
intervening.
His design is simple of that of a German soldier, his most notble piece is his red scarf. Giving a small hint of his past.
He will make a cameo appearance in my upcoming brickfilm and a leading role in my future brickfilm. Called Jacqueline’s Letter.
Link to the Cameo:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7TXgoKBT03Q
Link to Jacqueline’s Letter.
TBA
Custom Kar98: Brickarms
Stahlhelm Helmet: Brickarms
Custom Torso: Minifig.Co
Our protagonist Barry Steakfries (yes, that’s his name) cruised around on his stolen jetpack, terrorizing the scientists who built it. Built for #LEGOGameDuos by @snipersquirrel1 on Instagram.
© 2019 Thousand Word Images by Dustin Abbott
Tension is one of the most important elements of a photograph. Storytelling requires a protagonist and a narrative. I really liked the tension here. In my roaming during this difficult season for photography, I found something I liked. It was a dried weed sticking out of the tangle in front of a little mound (calling it a hill would be exaggeration) with a tree at the top of it. This allowed me to get low and get an angle that allowed the dried weed to stand out in stark contrast to the rest of the scene beyond. The little weed standing out from the dominating tree at the top of the hill. The tension is the aspiration of us all; we want to become more than what we are. This shot also shows off the nice magnification, color, and bokeh of this inexpensive prime lens from Tamron. My review content is here:
Text Review: bit.ly/F051Review
Video Review Part 1: bit.ly/Tam24OSDPart1
Video Review Part 2: bit.ly/Tam24OSDPart2
Image Gallery: bit.ly/Tam24OSDimages
#photodujour #dustinabbott #dustinabbott.net #photography #2019 #sony #a9 #alpha9 #withmytamron #F051 #2824OSD #tension #bokeh #weed #tree #aspiration
Technical Info | Sony a9 + Tamron 24mm F2.8 OSD M1:2 | Check me out on: My Patreon | Dustin's Website | Instagram | YouTube Channel
In Jules Verne's 'A Journey to the Center of the Earth', Stapi is the last stop on the route the protagonists take before they climb Snæfellsjökull just visible in the background and enter the interior of the planet though a tunnel in the crater.
The source of inspiration: Museo del Novecento, Florence.
Francesca Banchelli - Silent dogs go away.
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DUEL – FRANCESCA BANCHELLI. I cani silenzosi se ne vanno via 11 Luglio 2020 - 12 Ottobre 2020
curated by Sergio Risaliti and Eva Francioli
Francesca Banchelli (Montevarchi, Arezzo 1981) is the protagonist of the eighth show in the DUEL series, where artists active on the international scene are invited to engage in a dialectic duel with the permanent collection of the Museo Novecento. The exhibition I cani silenziosi se ne vanno via (The Silent Dogs Slip Away) stems from and develops around the dialogue with a painting by Scipione (Gino Bonichi) entitled Apocalisse (Apocalypse) chosen by Banchelli before the world was hit by the pandemic. Today her choice resonates as a presage or a lucky intuition, revealing the capacity of some artists to perceive and, sometimes, to anticipate current events. Banchelli has a very precise idea about the function of art, which in certain respects resembles that of Scipione. Indeed, she is convinced of the necessity of the work, which shows itself to the world as epiphany and as an unescapable instrument of knowledge. In the creations both of Banchelli and Scipione, the investigation of reality gives way to authentic visions, combining reflection on the primordial nature of human beings with the creation of possible future scenarios.
The work of Francesca Banchelli (Montevarchi, Arezzo, 1981) is characterized by a great versatility. She is fascinated by the uncertainty of time, the relationship between human beings and the dialogue with animals and nature. In her works she investigates the complexity of the ‘event’ by experimenting different languages: from performance to painting, from video to drawing, from dance to sculpture, often organized within large installations.
I cani silenziosi se ne vanno via centres on the theme of the fugitive, investigated at length by Banchelli in recent years. Solitary figures or small communities set out and meet, physically or ideally, in order to conceive a new beginning, starting from something that has been interrupted or destroyed.
Planned months ago, the exhibition has acquired new meaning today. The first solo show by the Tuscan artist in an Italian museum, it is opening at a time when the whole of society seems to be reawakening. The desire to restart is the pervasive feeling, but Banchelli reminds us that we must come to terms with a complex reality characterized by various crises: from the economic and financial one, which is widening inequality and reducing people to poverty, to the racial and social crises that are shining the spotlight back onto unhealed sores.
Project supported by the Exhibit Program | Directorate-General for Contemporary Creativity of the Italian Ministry of Cultural Heritage and Activities and Tourism.
Protagonist at this time in the mountains
© 2012 Boscardin Francesco. Photos are copyrighted. All rights reserved. Pictures can not be used without explicit permission by the creator.
Based on the protagonist of "Shadow Fight 2", a mobile game. It is about a warrior, who, in search if a worthy adversary, opens the "Gates of Shadows", a passage to a hell-like realm. The gate spits out six demon warriors that, "tearing [his] flesh, draining [his] soul", turn him in to a shadow, a dark, immortal being. Now he's hellbent (pun intentendet) on stopping the demons he freed and finding ozt the gate's secret.
" In the non-Catholic cemetery of Taormina there is the tomb of Robert Kitson, with him lies his niece Daphne Phelps, buried later in 2005."
“Nel cimitero acattolico di Taormina c'è la tomba di Robert Kitson, qui c'è anche la tomba di sua nipote Daphne Phelps, morta successivamente nel 2005.”
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or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
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www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
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A history of Taormina: chronicles of a forbidden love and its great secret (not only Paolo and Francesca) with an unexpected "scoop".
This story is an integral part of the story previously told, the historical period is the same, the place is the same, the various characters often meet each other because they know each other; Taormina, between the end of the 1800s and the beginning of the 1900s, in an ever increasing growth, became the place of residence of elite tourism, thanks to the international interest aroused by writers and artists, such as Johann Wolfgang von Goethe , or great personalities like Lady Florence Trevelyan: Taormina becomes so famous, thanks to the paintings of the painter Otto Geleng and the photographs of the young Sicilian models by Wilhelm von Gloeden; in the air of Taormina there is a sense of libertine, its famous and histrionic visitors never fail to create scandal, even surpassing the famous Capri, in which, to cite just one example, the German gunsmith Krupp, trying to recreate the he environment of Arcadia that one breathed in Taormina (thanks to the photos of von Gloeden) was overwhelmed by the scandal for homosexuality, and took his own life. Taormina thus becomes a heavenly-like place, far from industrial civilizations, where you can freely live your life and sexuality; this is the socio-cultural environment in which the two protagonists of this story move, the British painter Robert Hawthorn Kitson (1873 - 1947) and the painter Carlo Siligato (born in Taormina in 1875, and died there in 1959). Robert H. Kitson, born in Leeds in England, belonged to a more than wealthy family, as a young engineer he had begun to replace his father in the family locomotive construction company (Kitson & Co.), on the death of his father in 1899 sells everything and decides to move very rich in Sicily to Taormina (he had been there the previous year with a trip made with his parents, here he had met, in addition to Baron von Gloeden, also the writer and poet Oscar Wilde who came to Italy, immediately after having served two years in prison in forced labor, on charges of sodomy); Kitson settled there because he was suffering from a severe form of rheumatic fever (like von Gloeden was advised to treat himself in the Mediterranean climate milder), and because as a homosexual, he leaves England because the Labouchere amendment considered homosexuality a crime. The other protagonist of this story is Carlo Siligato, he was from Taormina, he had attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, a very gifted painter, he was very good at oil painting (he exhibited his paintings in an art workshop, even now existing, in via Teatro Greco in Taormina), the meeting with the painter Robert Kitson, led him to adopt the watercolor technique: almost to relive Dante's verses on Paolo and Francesca "Galeotto was the book and who wrote it" the common passion for painting led the two artists to live an intense love story. Kitson built his home in the "Cuseni" district of Taormina, called for this "Casa Cuseni", the house was built between 1900 and 1905, its decorations were entrusted to the artists Alfred East (realist landscape painter, president of the Royal Society ), and Frank Brangwyn (painter, decorator, designer), he was a pupil of William Morris, leader of the English movement "Arts and Crafts" which spread to England in the second half of the nineteenth century (the Arts and Crafts was a response to the industrialization of Europe, of mass production operated by factories, all this at the expense of traditional craftsmanship, from this movement originated the Art Nouveau, in Italy also known as Liberty Style or Floral Style, which distinguished itself for having been a artistic and philosophical movement, which developed between the end of the 19th century and the first decade of the 20th century, whose style spread in such a way as to be present everywhere). Casa Cuseni has kept a secret for 100 years that goes far beyond the forbidden love lived by Robert and Carlo, a secret hidden inside the "secret room", that dinning room that was reopened in 2012; entering the dining room, you can witness a series of murals painted on the four walls by Frank Brangwyn, in Art Nouveau style, which portray the life and love story between the painter Robert Kitson, and his life partner, the Carlo Siligato from Taormina, but the thing that makes these murals even more special, full of tenderness and sweetness, is that "their secret" (!) is represented in them, it is described visually, as in an "episodic" story that really happened in their lives: Messina (and Reggio Calabria) are destroyed by the terrible earthquake with a tsunami on December 28, 1908, Carlo Siligato, Robert Kitson, Wilhelm von Gloeden and Anatole France leave for Messina, to see and document in person the tragedy, the city was a pile of rubble, many dead, Robert and Carlo see a baby, Francesco, he is alone in the world, without parents who died in the earthquake, abandoned to a certain and sad destiny, a deep desire for protection is born in the two of them, a maternal and paternal desire is born, they decide to takes that little child with them even knowing that they are risking a lot ... (!), what they want to do is something absolutely unthinkable in that historical period, they are a homosexual couple, what they are about to do is absolutely forbidden ..(!) but now there is Francesco in their life, thus becoming, in fact, the first homogenitorial family (with a more generic term, rainbow family) in world history: hence the need to keep the whole story absolutely hidden, both from an artistic point of view , represented by the murals (for more than 100 years, the "dinning room" will be kept hidden), both of what happens in real life, with little Francesco cared for lovingly, but with great risk or. I have allegorically inserted, in the photographic story, some photographs of the artists of the company "Casa del Musical", who came to Taormina to perform during the Christmas period: today as yesterday, Taormina has always been (starting from the last 20 years of the 19th century) center of a crossroads of artists and great personalities, Casa Cuseni also in this has an enormous palmares of illustrious guests, too long to state. The young boys painted on the murals of Casa Cuseni, wear white, this is a sign of purity, they wanted to represent their ideal homosexual world, fighting against the figure dressed in black, short in stature, disturbing, which acquires a negative value, an allegorical figure of the English society of the time, indicating the Victorian morality that did not hesitate to condemn Oscar Wilde, depriving him of all his assets and rights, even preventing him from giving the surname to his children. The boys are inspired by the young Sicilian models photographed by Wilhelm von Gloeden, dressed in white tunics, with their heads surrounded by local flowers. The only female figure present has given rise to various interpretations, one could be Kitson's detachment from his motherland, or his detachment from his mother. On the third wall we witness the birth of the homogenitorial family, both (allegorically Carlo and Kitson with the child in their arms) are in profile, they are walking, the younger man has a long, Greek-style robe, placed on the front, next to him behind him, the sturdier companion holds and gently protects the little child in his arms, as if to spare the companion the effort of a long and uncertain journey, there is in the representation of the family the idea of a long journey, in fact the man holding the child wears heavy shoes, their faces are full of apprehension and concern: in front of them an empty wall, so deliberately left by Frank Brangwin, since their future is unknown, in front of them they have a destiny full of unknowns (at the same time, their path points east, they go towards the rising sun: opening the large window the sun floods everything in the room). In the "secret room" there is the picture painted in 1912 by Alfred E. East, an oil on canvas, representing Lake Bourget. Carlo Siligato later married Costanza, she was my father's grandmother's sister, they had a son, Nino, who for many years lived and worked as a merchant in his father's art workshop. I sincerely thank my colleague Dr. Francesco Spadaro, doctor and esteemed surgeon, owner and director of the "Casa Cuseni" House-Garden-Museum, who, affectionately acting as a guide, gave me the precious opportunity to create "this photographic tour" inside the house- museum and in the "metaphysical garden" of Casa Cuseni. … And the scoop that I announced in the title ..? After photographing the tomb of Carlo Siligato, in the Catholic cemetery of Taormina, I started looking for that of Robert Kitson, in the non-Catholic cemetery of Taormina: when I finally found it (with him lies his niece Daphne Phelps, buried later in 2005) ... I felt a very strong emotion, first of all I was expecting a mausoleum, instead I found a small, very modest tomb on this is not a photo of him, not an epitaph, not a Cross, not a praying Angel to point it out, but ... unexpectedly for a funerary tombstone ... a small bas-relief carved on marble (or stone) depicting ... the Birth ... (!), obviously , having chosen her could have a very specific meaning: a desire to transmit a message, something very profound about him, his tomb thus testified that in his soul, what was really important in life was having a family, with Carlo and baby Francesco, certainly beloved, saved from a certain and sad fate, in the terrible Messina earthquake-tsunami of 28 December 1908 ... almost recalling in an absolute synthesis, at the end of his life, what had already been told in the "secret murals" of Casa Cuseni.
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Una storia di Taormina: cronache di un amore proibito e del suo grande segreto (non solo Paolo e Francesca) con inaspettato “scoop”.
Questa storia fa parte integrante della storia precedentemente raccontata, il periodo storico è lo stesso, il luogo è lo stesso, i vari personaggi spesso si frequentano tra loro poiché si conoscono; Taormina, tra la fine dell’800 e l’inizio del’900, in un sempre maggiore crescendo, diventa luogo di residenza del turismo d’élite, grazie all’interesse internazionale suscitato ad opera di scrittori ed artisti, come Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, o grandi personalità come Lady Florence Trevelyan: Taormina diventa così famosa, complici i quadri del pittore Otto Geleng e le fotografie dei giovani modelli siciliani di Wilhelm von Gloeden; nell’aria di Taormina si respira un che di libertino, i suoi famosi ed istrionici frequentatori non mancano mai di creare scandalo, superando persino la famosa Capri, nella quale, per citare solo un esempio, l’armiere tedesco Krupp, cercando di ricreare l’ambiente dell’Arcadia che si respirava a Taormina (grazie alle foto di von Gloeden) viene travolto dallo scandalo per omosessualità, e si toglie la vita. Taormina diviene quindi un luogo simil-paradisiaco, lontana dalle civiltà industriali, nella quale poter vivere liberamente la propria vita e la propria sessualità; questo è l’ambiente socio-culturale nel quale si muovono i due protagonisti di questa vicenda, il pittore britannico Robert Hawthorn Kitson (1873 – 1947) ed il pittore Carlo Siligato (nato a Taormina nel 1875, ed ivi morto nel 1959). Robert H. Kitson, nacque a Leeds in Inghilterra, apparteneva ad una famiglia più che benestante, da giovane ingegnere aveva cominciato a sostituire il padre nell’impresa familiare di costruzioni di locomotive (la Kitson & Co.), alla morte del padre nel 1899 vende tutto e decide di trasferirsi ricchissimo in Sicilia a Taormina (vi era stato l’anno precedente con un viaggio fatto coi suoi genitori, qui aveva conosciuto, oltre al barone von Gloeden, anche lo scrittore e poeta Oscar Wilde venuto in Italia, subito dopo aver scontato due anni di prigione ai lavori forzati, con l’accusa di sodomia); Kitson vi si stabilisce perché affetto da una grave forma di febbre reumatica (come von Gloeden gli fu consigliato di curarsi nel clima mediterraneo più mite), sia perché in quanto omosessuale, lascia l’Inghilterra perché l’emendamento Labouchere considerava l’omosessualità un crimine. L’altro protagonista di questa storia è Carlo Siligato, egli era taorminese, aveva frequentato l’Accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia, pittore molto dotato, era bravissimo nel dipingere ad olio (esponeva i suoi quadri in una bottega d’arte, ancora adesso esistente, in via Teatro Greco a Taormina), l’incontro col pittore Robert Kitson, lo portò ad adottare la tecnica dell’acquarello: quasi a rivivere i versi di Dante su Paolo e Francesca “Galeotto fu ‘l libro e chi lo scrisse” la comune passione per la pittura condusse i due artisti a vivere una intensa storia d’amore. Kitson costruì nel quartiere “Cuseni” di Taormina la sua abitazione, detta per questo “Casa Cuseni”, la casa fu costruita tra il 1900 ed il 1905, le sue decorazioni furono affidate agli artisti Alfred East (pittore verista paesaggista, presidente della Royal Society), e Frank Brangwyn (pittore, decoratore, designer, progettista), egli era allievo di William Morris, leader del movimento inglese “Arts and Crafts” (Arti e Mestieri) che si diffuse in Inghilterra nella seconda metà del XIX secolo (l’Arts and Crafts era una risposta alla industrializzazione dell’Europa, della produzione in massa operata dalle fabbriche, tutto ciò a scapito dell’artigianato tradizionale, da questo movimento ebbe origine l’Art Nouveau, in Italia conosciuta anche come Stile Liberty o Stile Floreale, che si distinse per essere stata un movimento artistico e filosofico, che si sviluppò tra la fine dell’800 ed il primo decennio del ‘900, il cui stile si diffuse in tal modo da essere presente dappertutto). Casa Cuseni ha custodito per 100 anni un segreto che va ben oltre quell’amore proibito vissuto da Robert e Carlo, segreto celato all’interno della “stanza segreta”, quella dinning room che è stata riaperta nel 2012; entrando nella sala da pranzo, si assiste ad una serie di murales realizzati sulle quattro pareti da Frank Brangwyn, in stile Art Nouveau, che ritraggono la vita e la storia d’amore tra il pittore Robert Kitson, ed il suo compagno di vita, il pittore taorminese Carlo Siligato, ma la cosa che rende questi murales ancora più particolari, carichi di tenerezza e dolcezza, è che in essi viene rappresentato “il loro segreto” (!), viene descritto visivamente, come in un racconto “ad episodi” quello che è realmente avvenuto nella loro vita: Messina (e Reggio Calabria) vengono distrutte dal terribile sisma con maremoto il 28 dicembre del 1908, partono per Messina, Carlo Siligato, Robert Kitson, Wilhelm von Gloeden ed Anatole France, per vedere e documentare di persona la tragedia, la città era un cumulo di macerie, moltissimi i morti, Robert e Carlo vedono un piccolo bimbo, Francesco, egli è solo al mondo, privo dei genitori periti nel terremoto, abbandonato ad un certo e triste destino, nasce in loro due un profondo desiderio di protezione, nasce un desiderio materno e paterno, decidono di prende quel piccolo bimbo con loro pur sapendo che stanno rischiando moltissimo…(!) , quello che vogliono fare è una cosa assolutamente impensabile in quel periodo storico, loro sono una coppia omosessuale, quello che stanno per fare è assolutamente proibito..(!) ma oramai c’è Francesco nella loro vita, divenendo così, di fatto, la prima famiglia omogenitoriale (con termine più generico, famiglia arcobaleno) nella storia mondiale: da qui la necessità di tenere assolutamente nascosta tutta la vicenda, sia dal punto di vista artistico, rappresentata dai murales (per più di 100 anni, la “dinning room” verrà tenuta nascosta), sia di quanto accade nella vita reale, col piccolo Francesco accudito amorevolmente, ma con grandissimo rischio. Ho inserito allegoricamente, nel racconto fotografico, alcune fotografie degli artisti della compagnia “Casa del Musical”, giunti a Taormina per esibirsi durante il periodo natalizio: oggi come ieri, Taormina è sempre stata (a partire dagli ultimi 20 anni dell’800) al centro di un crocevia di artisti e grandi personalità, Casa Cuseni anche in questo ha un enorme palmares di ospiti illustri, troppo lungo da enunciare. I giovani ragazzi dipinti sui murales di Casa Cuseni, vestono di bianco, questo è segno di purezza, si è voluto in tal modo rappresentare il loro mondo ideale omosessuale, in lotta contro la figura vestita di nero, bassa di statura, inquietante, che acquista un valore negativo, figura allegorica della società inglese dell’epoca, indicante la morale Vittoriana che non ha esitato a condannare Oscar Wilde, privandolo di tutti i suoi beni e diritti, impedendogli persino di dare il cognome ai suoi figli. I ragazzi sono ispirati ai giovani modelli siciliani fotografati da Wilhelm von Gloeden, vestiti con tuniche bianche, col capo cinto dei fiori locali. L’unica figura femminile presente, ha dato spunto a varie interpretazioni, una potrebbe essere il distacco da parte di Kitson dalla sua madre patria, oppure il distacco da sua madre. Sulla terza parete si assiste alla nascita della famiglia omogenitoriale, entrambi (allegoricamente Carlo e Kitson col bimbo in braccio) sono di profilo, sono in cammino, l’uomo più giovane ha una veste lunga, alla greca, posto sul davanti, accanto a lui, alle sue spalle, il compagno più robusto sostiene in braccio e protegge con dolcezza il piccolo bimbo, quasi a voler risparmiare al compagno la fatica di un lungo ed incerto percorso, vi è nella rappresentazione della famiglia l’idea di un lungo percorso, infatti l’uomo che regge il bimbo indossa delle calzature pesanti, i loro volti sono carichi di apprensione e preoccupazione: davanti a loro una parete vuota, così volutamente lasciata da Frank Brangwin, poiché il loro futuro è ignoto, davanti hanno un destino pieno di incognite (al tempo stesso, il loro cammino indica l’est, vanno verso il sole nascente: aprendo la grande finestra il sole inonda ogni cosa nella stanza).
Nella “stanza segreta” c’è il quadro dipinto nel 1912 da Alfred E. East, un olio su tela, rappresentante il lago Bourget.
Carlo Siligato, successivamente si sposò con Costanza, una sorella della nonna di mio padre, da lei ebbe un figlio, Nino, il quale per tantissimi anni ha vissuto e lavorato come commerciante nella bottega d’arte del padre. Ringrazio di cuore il mio collega dott. Francesco Spadaro, medico e stimato chirurgo, proprietario e direttore della Casa-Giardino-Museo “Casa Cuseni”, il quale, facendomi affettuosamente da cicerone, mi ha dato la preziosa opportunità di realizzare “questo tour fotografico” all’interno dell’abitazione-museo e nel “giardino-metafisico” di Casa Cuseni.
…E lo scoop che ho annunciato nel titolo..? Dopo aver fotografato la tomba di Carlo Siligato, nel cimitero cattolico di Taormina, mi sono messo alla ricerca di quella di Robert Kitson, nel cimitero acattolico di Taormina: quando finalmente l’ho trovata (insieme a lui giace sua nipote Daphne Phelps, seppellita successivamente nel 2005)…ho provato una fortissima commozione, innanzitutto mi aspettavo un mausoleo, invece ho trovato una tomba piccola, molto modesta, su questa non una sua foto, non un epitaffio, non una Croce, non un Angelo pregante ad indicarla, ma … inaspettatamente per una lapide funeraria…un piccolo bassorilievo scolpito su marmo (o su pietra) raffigurante…la Natalità…(!), evidentemente, l’averla scelta potrebbe avere un significato ben preciso: un desiderio di trasmettere un messaggio, qualcosa di molto profondo di lui, la sua tomba testimoniava così che nel suo animo, ciò che in vita fu davvero importante fu l’aver avuto una famiglia, con Carlo e col piccolo Francesco, certamente amatissimo, salvato da un molto probabile triste destino, nel terribile terremoto-maremoto di Messina del 28 dicembre del 1908…quasi rievocando in una sintesi assoluta, al termine della sua vita, ciò che era già stato raccontato nei “murales segreti” di Casa Cuseni.
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