Archetypes
View allAll Photos Tagged Psychology
A huge flock of plovers (and a few gulls too) suddenly take off, circle around and then settle again.
“According to Jungian analytical psychology, stepping on dog poop in a dream is interpreted as an aegis of incoming wealth.
In reality, however, stepping on dog poop just makes you curse: ‘Oh, shit!’
Yet in 21st-century cities, the chance of stepping on a bull’s dung is almost zero.”
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Kentmere 100 Film
Held at City North Campus by the Division of Psychology on 02/03/11
For more on Psychology at BCU www.bcu.ac.uk/elss/school-of-social-sciences/psychology
There exists a feeling of when strong emotions get buried and forgotten in the psychological laundry of everyday life.
In the interviews for my research on Flickr, (see The CyberPsychology of Flickr ), some people mentioned shots that were “eye candy” – those crowd-pleasers that are colorful and pretty to look at, that may even skillfully employ the rules of eye-catching composition, but don’t contain any artistic depth. These people seemed frustrated by the fact that such images often receive more attention in flickr than other images that are more subtle, unconventional, or provocative in ways that seem socially unacceptable.
"Psychology"
a schema describes patterns of thinking and behavior that people use to interpret the world. We use schemas because they allow us to take shortcuts in interpreting the vast amount of information that is available in our environment.
Theorist Jean Piaget introduced the term schema, and its use was popularized through his work. According to his theory of cognitive development, children go through a series of stages of intellectual growth.
In Piaget's theory, a schema is both the category of knowledge as well as the process of acquiring that knowledge. He believed that people are constantly adapting to the environment as they take in new information and learn new things.
quote
Everything which distinguishes man from the animals depends upon this ability to volatilize perceptual metaphors in a schema, and thus to dissolve an image into a concept.
Friedrich Nietzsche
Western philosophy
Before I get into the title of this picture, if you have a minute, please listen to a phone call to Officer Fanone, while he testifying at the Jan 6th hearings. It gives you great insight of what is really happening in America.
Here are a few link to it: www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2021/07/28/michael-f...
www.cbsnews.com/news/michael-fanone-dc-police-officer-vul...
www.nbcnews.com/politics/congress/d-c-officer-michael-fan...
www.tmz.com/2021/07/28/michael-fanone-voicemail-hate-fill...
Now ask yourself; how did that man get his cell phone number? Really, just think a minute. This brave officer put his life on the line to defend our Nations Capitol and our Incompetent Law makers against a riot, an insurgence. He’s being called during a hearing, threatened, told he and all his colleges should have been KILLED!
Welcome to the Dark Side of America. The world of Gang Stalkers, Community Mobbers in America. This is the daily life of a Targeted Individual, in the United States. You can be Targeted for many things. You could anger a neighbor. You could tactfully address shortcomings in the workplace. You could be a far better worker than others. You could anger someone in an RV Park, or out Boondocking. You could be an Official Whistle Blower or an Unofficial one. You could be criminal, or on parole. In today's America; you fart loud enough to piss someone off and you could be Targeted.
This Mobbing, Targeting Culture has been going on for DECADES. Those of us in the Whistleblower and Targeting Community; have gone around in circles trying to get someone to listen, to believe the TRUTH. As I stated in my last post “Telling the Truth”. We’ve used our chain of commands, we have pleaded with our Elected Officials, we’ve pleaded with Law Enforcement, even the most corrupt Law Enforcement Agency in American History; the FBI. They have know about America’s Mobbing Culture, Gang Stalking, Community Mobbing and Direct Energy Weapons (Yes, I said Direct Energy Weapons), for DECADES! Its been called the "Havana Syndrom" . You may have seen current news; on CIA and Government officials being hit with Direct Energy Weapons. They have had hundreds of complaints from Government employees. The CIA is supposedly looking into it. We in the Whistleblower, Targeted Community have been addressing these same ATTACKS FOR DECADES. AGAIN, to the FBI, our ELECTED OFFICIALS and LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT. YET, MANY OF US RECEIVE THEM DAILY! WE ARE AMERICAN CITIZENS, ON AMERICA SIOL! But, as you saw from the Jan 6th Hearings, anything is possible.
I myself have gone through all channels, even the FBI Office in Fresno, CA. It’s an office that participates in this type of harassment and devastation. The type of DEVASTATION that DESTROYS the lives of AMERICAN CITIZENS. I know its a bold statement, but it’s TRUE! Do I think all Law Enforcement Officers are corrupt? Of course not. But, many in power are.
Let me just give you an average day of a Targeted Individual, in America.
I’m woke about an hour before I want to get up. Someone is extremely revving the engine, of an over sized pick-up truck. I can’t get back to sleep. I’m exhausted , some jerk was revving an ATV right in front of our Motorhome, just I went to bed. It went on for quit some time. I’m lucky to have a few hours sleep. I make a pot of coffee and get ready for my day. I take my dog out to use the bathroom. As I do; people start riding and driving by on bikes, motorcycles, ATVs or big trucks. I’m out Boondocking on Public land, in the middle of nowhere, miles from anyone. But give them a day or two and they show up. Poor Koda is trying to poo and he’s being bombarded with noise and people. I’m used to it and he’s starting to. I just tell him its good training. He receives this treatment each and every time I take him out. This started in Gand Junction, Colorado; soon after I adopted him.
When Koda was being harassed in an RV Park, in Grand Junction; I called their police office. A Sergeant came out, looked at some of the evidence I had. He took my information, told me if it continued; to take video (which I already had), and call him. Not only did it continue; it intensified and they started using young children and Toddlers. I called the Police office repeatedly. I left a voicemail for the Sergeant; informing him that I had more video and that these people were using children to harass Koda. No one followed-up. I was trying to use the Grand Junction VA Hospital. It was so Toxic and Dis-functional, I left and ended up near Phoenix. I tried Prescott, but it was a shit show too.
This type of harassment continued in Arizona, throughout the winter. Once the temperature started rising, I headed back to Colorado. This time I would try the Eastern Slope. You can see and what happened North of Durango, in my previous post “Telling the Truth”. Once I got off that mountain, we ended up at the Boulder County Fair Grounds. They had what they call a camping area, for RVs. I stayed there for two weeks trying find a VA facility where, I could receive some follow-up care. During those two weeks; the Longmont Humane Society Shelter, used young adults and their stray animals to Mob, Stalk and Harass Koda and I. One day, they even had a Police Officer set in her vehicle at the stables and watch. These people were setting up left and right as I try and walk daily. I walked up to her vehicle after being chased down by a young man, asked her if she saw it. She said no, (she was setting right their in her vehicle), I informed her of Shelter Staff and Volunteers, harassing Koda each and every time I took him out. Once I informed her of this, she left. Seriously, they would be waiting for Koda to come out each and every day, so they could Mob, Stalk, Bait and Harass us. Now, here in the Wilderness of Wyoming, and it continues.
We go inside and all quiets down. I make breakfast and as set down to eat; more of the same shows up. This time its parents with little kids in their laps, American fags flying from their Side-by-Sides.
Then a helicopter flies directly over us, just a few hundred feet. This is not just for breakfast, but for every meal, everyday of my life. Not the helicopter every meal, but the noise campaigns. The helicopter started back up here in Wyoming, and has buzzed me at both camps I’ve stayed at so far, in the area.
The make-a-meal idiots (I call them), started when I was working and living in Yosemite National Park. People, mostly my coworkers, would walk pass my door or a window to my residence and put on this loud, extreme, fake cough. This happened at every meal, every day. If I ate at work, one of the concessionaires or a picnic area; I’d get the same treatment. I’ve had people walk behind me, do this so intensely; I’d get spit on my neck. Some would do in in face.
This is called BAITING; in hopes you will act out and be recorded doing so.
This didn’t stop until the Pandemic hit and people were being charged for it. It recently picked back up here in Wyoming, when I go into town to do laundry, do some shopping.
I’ve had breakfast, so I get ready to go into town for VA Lab work, and pick up parts for my frig and Motorhome. As I do; the ATVs start buzzing by, some even slowing down right in front of the Motorhome, then revving engines and speeding off. This is another intense Noise Campaign, hoping I get flustered, lose my train of thought and forget something.
I’m on a small highway heading to town. I pull up to a stop sign and I am blocked and mobbed from all sides by big trucks, some with American flags. I pull off the side of the road and wait for the Billy-Bobs to leave. I get to town, pull into a parking lot to have my blood drawn for lab work. This is a VA Mobile Clinic. I take Koda over to a grassy area to use the bathroom. As I do, a man drives by, giving us an evil stare down. He pulls beside the Mobil Clinic and parks. I’m 20 minutes early, so Koda and I take our time. The guy sets in his SUV, until we walk towards the clinic. He then gets out of his vehicle, wearing a red hat (these perps use certain colors as stimuli and recognition). He rushes ahead of us and stalls the guy at the door steps, and starts asking him questions; keeping us from going in. I call these skits. We go inside the clinic, the guy has me set down. Koda lays at my left side and he starts getting agitated, its not normal. He keeps looking at the door to his left and I asked the man if there was someone in there. He said yes, there’s someone in there with a couple small dogs. Koda stayed where he was, but didn’t like it to well.
We leave and head to the UPS Store. I’m headed down a 4 lane street, in the left lane. People keep pulling in front of me from the right lane, coming to a stop, to make a left turn. This happens 3 times within 4 blocks. I am left waiting behind them, as they wait for car after car, coming from the other way. I get to the UPS Store and I guy pulls out and blocks the entrance. As he finally leaves, a car coming from the other direction turns in quickly. There’s only one parking spot, so I take it. I pull beside a woman setting in her SUV. She waits until I start to get Koda out, then rushes ahead of me. Not only her, but the other woman that pulled in just ahead of me.
Koda and I go in, stand in line and wait. There are people working two registers as we stand in line. A guy to our left grabs a big sheet of paper (I’m talking 2 feet by maybe 3 feet). He start flipping it into the air, then rolls it up as loudly as he can. Koda is waiting calmly at my side. The guy then walks over closer to Koda, with a new sheet of paper, gives him the stare-down, starts doing the same with that sheet. It was just another skit, trying to get Koda worked up. Now, I’m next to be waited on. One of the register staff leaves, so I’m left waiting again. Another person comes to that register. As I step up to it, my phone starts ringing. Its the Social Security Administration. I just received the same recorded call from them an hour ago. I try to shut the ringer off, but my phone is not responding, its a new S21. It continues to ring and I wait until it finishes and goes to voicemail. I told young guy, I had a package from Amazon to pickup. He looks around forever and says he can’t find it. I said; it shows it was delivered today. He then fumbles around for a while longer and pulls it from a bin that was in front of him the whole time. I pay the $5 holding fee they charge and left the store. As soon as we stepped out the door, we were blocked by a woman. We get in the car, start to back up and the woman parked beside of us backs up causing me to stop. I waited, she then pulls forward into the same spot. She’s thinking I’m going back in because I have one item missing, that I don’t know of yet.
We head to a fast food restaurant to get lunch. I place a simple menu order; a number 1, plus 4 piece Chicken Nuggets for Koda. They get my order wrong. We pull over to a parking lot next door to eat our lunch. As we start to eat; big pickup trucks start pulling in, revving their motors, (one a diesel, filling the air with thick dark smoke). A woman pulls up behind us, lights a cigarette, hangs it out the window, upwind.
We leave and head to Walmart. I get the same road stalling tactics. We pull into the parking lot, I’m getting Koda out of the car and a woman right in front of us, lights a cigarette, upwind. A big truck backs right up to us, stops, intentually filling the air with exhaust. He then speeds off, leaving more exhaust.
We head into the store. As we walk through the first door, an employee grabs a shopping cart, uses it making a big circle and blocks us. He then starts touching a large black object in his ear. A lot of times the cart blocking is done in the parking lot, with a large string of carts. They will us them to block me as I come and go. I’ve recorded this over and over; employees using a large string of carts to block me as I come in, or leave. After the employee puts the cart away; he rushes ahead of us, so he can be seen touching the black object, in his ear again, as we pass. It could have been an ear bud, who knows, but this is done for psychological effect, wanting me to think I’m being recorded (which I am 24/7). Three people rush from the right with shopping carts, as I get ready to enter the store area. They stop right in front of me; blocking me completely from entering the store. The same employee watching my reaction the whole time.
We go to the electronics section to get ink for my printer. There’s a woman there standing in front of the ink cartridges. She walks back and forth, as Koda lay at my feet. That’s what he’s trained to do, when I stand in an are for a while. I find the cartridge I need, but its extremity expensive. I see a printer on sale for around the same price, so I bought it with an extra cartridge. That cartridge was a lot cheaper than the one for my current printer. While I looking at cartridges and the printers, there was a guy a distance away watching. I grab the items I want, and head to the register. The guy that was hanging out behind me; rushes to the register ahead of me and starts asking questions. This is another stall campaign. Just like I received at the UPS store. There were two employees at the registers, but one walks away as I approach. This is store after store, gas stations, restaurants, you name it; there is no shortage of Americans willing to hate, stalk, bait and harass. This is done in hopes I act out so it can be recorded. It also gives other perps time to set up; for more types of baiting and harassment. I pay for my items in electronics and go to leave the store. As I walk down a mail aisle; the woman that was waiting by the printer ink; waits in a side aisle to push her cart out in front of us. As she does, a guy watching us (Koda & I), has phone in hand texting. He gives me a dirty stare-down as I turn around and look at the woman, once she passes. I look right at him and said “Never mind me Sir, I’m just documenting me being harassed in Walmart”. That turned his face to red. As I leave the store, people are stepping from aisles, phones in hand texting. This skit is overacted by many; striving for their daily dose of sociopathic needs. As I exit the store; I’m block by another person with a shopping cart, cutting across in front of us. We leave and head back to camp. As we do, we get the same; people pull in front of us, then stop to make a left or right turn. This continued to happen until we get to the freeway.
Once at camp (we are boondocking in a National Forest), we go in, I open the package and one item is missing. Its the gas control unit for my Motorhome refrigerator. The part that I really needed. I ordered the part through Amazon, along with an exterior light fixture. I selected the deliver in same package, same day option. The UPS Store I use for pick-up charges $5 per package, for pick-up. I don’t have a mail box there. The day I ordered the parts, I contacted Amazon Customer Service, to make sure they would arrive in one package. My last order, I selected the same option, but it came in two package and cost me $10 to pick them up. When I spoke to Customer Service, the young man took forever, but did tell me the packages would be delivered the same day, in the same package. They didn’t. I called Amazon, to find out where my part was. It took me several dropped calls and a couple messages saying the call back option is temporary unavailable. It took me forever to get to Customer Service Rep, then a while to speak a manager. I told what happened and she told me the part was delivered, but not in one package, bla, bla, bla.
I get Koda in the car, to head back to town to get my parts. Just as we get ready to pull out, a bunch of kids show up on motorcycles, followed by their dad (I’m guessing Dad), as I pull out of camp, they stop in the middle of the road, right in front of me. Really, they come to a complete stop, 4 of them stretched out, blocking me completely from passing. I finally get around them and the older man yells Fuck You! I had another young guy on a motorcycles the night before; yell the same thing as he spun off pulling wheelies, in front of our Motorhome. I’m a bit pissed, having to go back into town; and I’m mobbed and blocked by motorcycles. This is how these guys operate, they push your buttons 24/7, 365, hoping you will break. There are many that do; and that’s why we have so much WORKPLACE VIOLENCE. I don’t condone it, but it’s been documented by many in the Psychology Community. Just check out some Workplace Mobbing, Harassment in the Workplace books.
We get back to the UPS Store and another woman rushes in in front of us. We go in and there’s only one person at the registers. Then the same you guy who gave me the last package comes out. I told him I had another package, he walks over to a bin as if he knew where it was, pulled it and gave it to me.
It was right where he looked the last time, the Amazon Prime Package stuck out like a sore thumb.
He wanted to charge me another $5. I said, I had to drive anther 50 miles (round trip), to come back and get this package and your going to charge me another $5. He pauses for a moment, then says “Its Free”. I thanked him and we left.
When we get on the National Forest Road, the first cattle grate we came to; has a couple in a Side-by-Side (Its the larger ATVs), rushing to the cattle grate. I slowed down, they did too, I waited, then they stopped just before the gate, so I crossed. After getting pass them, I come across the same guy the had the kids with Motorcycles. This is miles from my camp. He’s stopped in the road, kids too, working on his motorcycle. This time they only took half the road, but here comes a big 5th wheel to take up the other half passing them. After recording this Stupidfest, I proceed to camp. I come up to another cattle grate, and there’s an SUV rushing towards it, causing me to stop. I wait for them to pass, then head back to camp.
Once back at camp; I start to replace the part on the frig, which has outside access. As I do; the motorcycles, trucks and ATVs show up. They’re revving their engines, making so mush noise; it’s hard to even think. I need to get the part in before the storm hits. It didn’t take to long to get it in, and frig is running like new. I’m as happy as a lark, but it’s short lived. I take Koda out because he has to Poo. As he does his pre-poo routine; motorcycles show up again, right in front of the Motorhome. They’re pulling wheelies, revving engines. This is done each time I take Koda out, if we go out for a hike, play fetch, any time he’s out. They know if they harass and get Koda worked up; it harassed me. They are relentless. If we stay at a pay campground or RV park, we get the same treatment with Big Trucks and Harlies, many with American Flags waving in the air.
Koda takes his poo, gives the motorcycles his WTF look, then comes walking over to me. Koda has a lot of facial expressions, many times hilarious. He’s extremely intelligent. He comes up and nudges me when he wants something. It’s come to a point where I ask him “what do you want? show me, show me”. He will walk over to his leash, box of biscuits, his food bowl, toys and nudge then with his nose. He will also bring me a toy, jump in the passenger seat of our Motorhome, when I ask him (he loves riding up high watching everything). Once he reaches what he wants, he nudges it with his nose. He does it to me often too.
We go in and I make dinner. Just as I set down to eat; here comes the noise campaign, that’s what it is, just like the Military performs. I should know, I went through intense POW training in the Army. I was assigned to The US Joint Serves Special Operations Command, quite the mouth-full. I did live RECONS, received a butt load of medals for it. Not to brag, but to let you know where I’m coming from. I know how not to be seen, gather the information, retain and report it. I’ve even had dinner with Generals. Its "DISGRACEFUL"; I can gather secret information in other countries, be awarded medals for it in the Military, but I tell the Truth in America and thousand crawl out from their rocks, to discredit me. That’s not an exaggeration; IT’S THE TRUTH IN AMERICA.
I said above an average day for a Target; this is actually a very light day. If I told you everything, you probably wouldn’t believe most of it, or be in a state of shock. I want to get this posted, so I’m going to give you a quick insight on what will happen as I get ready for bed. The noise campaign starts back up. This is to build my anxiety up, to a point you can’t go to sleep. I’ll toss and turn for hours, then be woken by much of the same, hours before I want to wake-up.
There are thousands of documented Whistleblowers receiving this kind of harassment, mobbing and life destruction. There have been thousands of us reporting this harassment, mobbing, staking and attacks from Direct Energy Weapons; to the FBI. We have been reporting it for DECADES. Where have they been? Maybe, the same place they were at during the Jan 6th Riots and Insurgence.
Imagine telling your family this. You try and tell your family, you show them some evidence; audio, pictures, videos. They are still in disbelief, this is America, this can’t happen here. IT DOES, EVERY DAY!
Is this the America you want your child to grow up in? Where trying to do the right thing, tell the TRUTH; destroys there life. They become a Target, are watched 24/7 (even in the privacy of their home), Stalked, Mobbed, Baited, Harassed, attacked with Direct Energy Weapons, their personal property tampered with, destroyed or stolen. This is what is happening to United States Citizens, on American Soil, everyday. Again, the FBI is fully aware of it but does nothing. No one is held accountable, so it continues day after day, year after year, across State Lines. These people are your neighbors, your coworkers, some; you think of as friends, some even a family member. These are the types of people storming our Capital. They are not going to stop. They may change their tactics but they will continue, until they are held accountable. There is a lot more I haven’t mentioned, like; the Street Theater and Gas Lighting. I’m a bit drained and I will cover those at a different time.
If you still don’t believe me; please listen to the message left on Officer Fanone’s voice mail again.
I have the evidence to prove everything I’ve written, but who do I give it to? It seems no one with authority wants it, or cares. If you know someone that truely cares and WILL DO SOMETHING; please send them my way.
Now that I’ve posted this, I’ll be waiting for the Storm of Retaliation, Hate, Harassment, Mobbing, Stalking, Baiting, Belittling, Defaming and Direct Energy Attacks. It will not detour me from continually exposing the TRUTH in AMERICA.
My name is Rick Pineiro. If you want to know the TRUTH, just ask me.
I have Hundreds, maybe Thousands. I call the FBI to inform them of Domestic Terrorism (I have definitive proof), and they hang up on me. I was told to contact Local Law Enforcement; if you’ve read through my post, you know how that goes. They all have excuses; its just a big circle of Plausible Deniability. I want to repeat this before I go into the description: I inform the FBI of Domestic Terrorism and I’m abruptly hung up on me. And, we wonder how Jan 6th could have happened; when the FBI was fully aware of the Threat. Now, do you know what I mean, about Selective Policing in America.
The picture you see, is one of the many people that Stalk, Bait and Harass; my Service Dog and I.
We moved camp today. While I was packing up at the last camp; we received a Convoy of Hate before we pulled out. One man went as far as putting on a Red Jump Suit, stands up on his motorcycle as he passed. This was because Koda was up front, looking out the window, as I loaded the car on it’s dolly.
Now, here at our new camp, many, many miles from our last camp; we are here a few minutes and Karen comes walking from a Fire Lane, to watch. It is the same woman in this picture, but she didn’t have the dog, or backpack. She came up to a fork, that could be seen from our camp. I was setting up the solar panels, Koda was tied to the front side of the Motorhome. She stood at the fork, doing something to cause Koda to growl. When I came around front she stopped. I have it on Video.
Hours later, I was playing fetch with Koda, he was having to much fun: the same woman drags this poor old dog, up the Fire Lane. She does this, so it and she could be seen by Koda. This was just an act to get him excited (he loves to play with other dogs). She literally pulled and yelled at the dog she had; the poor thing could not keep up. Take a good look at it. I have pictures of it all. She was in a hurry to spread her hate. These people could care less about a dog, or their own children it seems. They use children often to harass Targets.
This is a prime Example of people involved in Domestic Terrorism. You Can call it Gang Stalking, Community Stalking, Community Policing; it is Actually Domestic Terrorism. These people spread nothing but Fear, Hate, Intimidation, Mobbing and Terror. They even teach children to do so. Once we were set up; it didn’t take long for the same people that Stormed pass our camp, show up here. One man in a Red Jeep, pulled up on a hill a couple hundred yards behind us and Watched us. . It was just another attempt of Intimidation. It didn’t work….
Direct Energy Weapons are used during this Stalking, Mobbing, Baiting and Hating. Not every time, but they are used. I know its a bold statement, but its the TRUTH. Many Government Employees, along with CIA Agents have reported being Attacked by these Weapons (Havana Syndrome). For years our Government turned its back on them. Now the CIA is supposed to be investigating it. We know how that will go. And, the FBI, apparently doesn’t want to hear about it. BUT, they are doing nothing for the Average American Citizen.
I could care less what others think of my statements. I have TWO thing on my side; TRUTH and HISTORY. History does expose the truth, and one day I’ll be vindicated. If someone you know, is a victim of this type of Domestic Terrorism; please give them the benefit of doubt. Don’t turn your back on them; like our Local/Federal Law Enforcement and Government. “Disgusting”, is and understatement.
I’m not against Law Enforcement, I am against Selective Policing and Cover-up….
As I post this on Flickr, an ATV stops with rows of bright lights, in front of our Motorhome.
You still have trouble believing, read this: www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&s...
Thanks for visiting our photostream
Put another 'x' on the calendar
Summer's on it's deathbed
There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends
And I meant everything I said that night
I will come back to life
But only for you
Only for you~♥
Just another shot of Temp from my trip to the beach :)
School starts for me on September first, and I would normally be pretty excited, if I wasn't going to end up in the same Psychology class as my older sister T___T
Making up an interesting title for an image can be an important creative aspect of photography. After all, did famous photographers ever resort to generic or bland labels for their work, or no names at all?
Actually, they often did. Real ordinary titles like “East Coast Fisherman,” “White Radish,” “Nude, Campden Hill, London, 1949,” and simply “Self-portrait.”
So how come these really creative people failed to conjure up a captivating title for some of their most famous photographs? Well, probably because it wasn’t necessary. The image itself was meaningful, powerful, revealing, all on its own. Maybe all they felt they needed to do was indicate the simple facts of where, when, and who, in order to provide a basic context. Then the image did the rest of the talking.
There are some definite advantages to straightforward or no titles at all. It lets viewers explore the image on their own without forcing any particular interpretation. It tosses the image into their lap and encourages them to project themselves into it, creating their own meaning. No title at all can be especially effective. It’s mysterious. It teases, frustrates, challenges, lures the viewer in: “Go ahead. Figure this out.” It’s a presentation of the purely visual with no pretense of words.
On the other hand, titles of some kind are useful handles. Without one, how do you refer to an image? “It’s the shot of the bicycle, not the bicycle in the playground… the other one, you know, the bicycle on the grass, shot from below, through the spokes up at the sky.”
Wouldn’t “Spoked Sky” be easier? Especially in online photo sharing communities, where there are thousands and millions of images, titles will help you organize, identify, and discuss images, as well as make it easier for search engines to find them.
And like I said at the start, titles can be an important part of the creative process. You can use a title to steer the viewer towards ideas that you really want to convey. The title can add a layer of meaning that is not immediately obvious in the photo. A title can even be playful or provocative by contradicting the qualities of the image.
Some titles might pop into your mind right away. You know what the image says for you. In other cases, however, you might have to really think about it. That process can be fascinating, and valuable. You know you like the photo, but may not be sure why. Searching your mind for a title might clarify that for you. It may help you uncover the subconscious feelings, memories, and fantasies that you associate with it. Coming up with a really good title might also help you alter and refine the photo. The title gives you a direction for post processing and image manipulation. It’s an excellent exercise in bringing composition in line with the idea you want to convey.
You’ll know when you have a really good title. It feels right. It “sticks.” Weeks, months, even years later, you’ll remember it. It’s a wedding of meaning and image.
* This image and essay are part of a book on Photographic Psychology that I’m writing within Flickr. Please see the set description.
Also known as “multiplicity” shots, images involving clones can be comical, intriguing, and even disturbing. As highly self-aware creatures, we humans are fascinated by mirrors and reflections of ourselves, by the idea of having a twin, alter ego, doppleganger, and multiple personalities.
The multiplicity shot is a visual representation of the fact that the psyche is not a homogenously unified entity. The human personality is made up of various parts that sometimes cooperate with each other, and sometimes not. Clone images capture the various ways these different elements of the psyche might interact - what some psychologists call “intrapsychic dynamics.” For example:
- The hidden, unconscious, or dissociated parts of ourselves that operate behind the scenes or behind our backs, without our even being aware of their existence
- The unconscious self that suddenly and unexpected appears, much to our surprise, delight, or shock (see The Unconscious)
- The self that we wish or fear to be
- The contradictions, divisions, or opposites within our psyche
- The “evil” or aggressive qualities within, that we usually suppress
- The parts of ourselves that are in conflict with each other, that oppose, thwart or resist each other (see Inside the Psyche)
- The unknown part of our psyche that acts as a “trickster” who creates unpredictability in our lives (see Prankster)
- The inner wise self that wants to help us, perhaps even the “God within”
- Self acceptance, self love, or narcissism
- Inner confusion and chaos created by ambitions, feelings, and thoughts that are at odds with each other
- The inner parts of our psyche that cooperate with each other, work in unison or in parallel with each other, perhaps aware or unaware of each other’s presence (see Biography)
- The self that is simply aware of itself, of the process of observing itself, perhaps with judgment, or, in a mystical fashion, without any judgment or evaluation (see Infinite Progression)
Multiplicity images tend to be more convincing and intriguing when the clones visibly demonstrate this awareness of and interaction with each other. Otherwise the clones appear as unrelated, somewhat uninteresting duplications of each other. Body language and line of sight can suggest a bond among them, although direct eye-to-eye contact can be difficult to simulate. Humans are exquisitely sensitive to the eyes, so if the eye connection among clones is off, even just a little, the viewer will notice and feel that the simulation is false. The most convincing clones are those that overlap, touch, or engage each other physically, although this effect requires careful planning in the shooting of the photos and skillful editing of the composite image.
One strategy for creativity multiplicity images is rather straightforward. Set the camera on a steady surface, preferably a tripod, and shoot the same scene several times over, each time with the subject in a different pose within that scene and in the spot where you want that subject to appear within the final composite image. In a photo editing program, choose one of the shots as a background, then copy just the subjects from the other shots and paste them into their position in the background photo. The tricky part will be the editing of the edges around the clones so that they blend convincingly into the background photo. Also pay close attention to the shadows cast by the clones. Inconsistent or missing shadows will result in an unrealistic final image. Scenes with even or diffuse, steady light will usually result in fewer complications. Poor edge editing, changing light sources, and problematic shadows will produce anomalous clones that look like they were just pasted into the scene.
In the image at the top of this page, which clones appear least convincing as natives of that shot, and why? Can you guess which one wasn’t cut and pasted?
* This image and essay are part of a book on Photographic Psychology that I’m writing within Flickr. Please see the set description.
It's usually next to impossible to get a good photo of my grandson. He can't sit still, and tends to frown at the camera. Until I tried to get a portrait of his mom for work purposes and he decided, of course, he just had to get in there.
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Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual occurrences as originally chronicled. Some names, times, places and some facts have been, of course, altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 192__
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Event: Posh Wedding Reception
Place: Upstate New York
Time: Warm early Autumn Saturday
Angie Being Receptive
Story line:
Angie had heard about the affair, a wedding, from a list of prospective functions provided by a discreetly paid contact. It was being given for the only daughter of a wealthy politician (as if there were any non-wealthy ones!) Angie had happily invited herself to the affair, carefully dressing up in her best for the special occasion!
**
Wedding receptions were by far Angie’s favorite hunting grounds. During the season there could be anywhere from upwards of 20 high end affaires every weekend in the bigger cities, and always 2 or 3 in even the smallest of towns.
Wedding s were usually easy pickings: free food, drink and entertainment, and seldom worn jewelry made for a ready-made mix for Angie to ply her trade. For Angelica D. was a uniquely skilled pickpocket, specializing in the removal for profit of the expensive jewelry worn by the (usually be -gowned) women and young ladies’ who hauntingly dwelt in societies upper crust!
So Weddings, by their nature, were the desirable choice for Angie. One only had to avoid the Bride, her Bridesmaids, and their court, which were usually the major focus of any security present. However, there were plenty of opportunities to be had by employing her special bag of tricks on the outlaying fringe.
Angie had arrived early at the mammoth facility, to scout out the establishment and to scope out who was wearing what. Used to these affairs either being feast or famine, she could quickly tell that in this one there was cooking up a devouring banquet.
**
After Angie had entered the mammoth reception room it did not take her long to spy her first plump prospect, nicely loaded with possibilities. It was a lady, bearing a haughty look, who had been making a b-line through the crowd as way was parted for her. She was wearing a luxuriously long rusty coloured sable fur coat that hid most of her long crimson -red satin gown. What Jewels were visible, ears, fingers and wrist, were all flashing with pricy fire. In tow she held the hand of a young girl, obviously her daughter, wearing actual makeup, which, along with her fetching gown and brite jewelry, made her appear far older than she was. A handsome man , looking like the actor William Powell in a tux, followed behind the pair, husband and father, Angie presumed. She shadowed the little family as they swished their way to a corner table, conveniently located by a rear exit, for a better look over. Her fingers had started with an all too familiar tingle as she took it all in.
**
The husband helped his wife out of the sable, laying it carefully along a bench against the wall. Angie was not disappointed. A silver necklace of large matched diamonds gracefully encircled her throat. A dazzling blood ruby and diamond brooch held up the center of her gown, positioned just below the bust line. Brooches, like this one, were worth a lot once fenced, but its placement required a little more dexterity and skill than she was willing to risk. In actuality, Angie had only attempted twice before to take a brooch pinned to a gown in this fashion. She had only been successful one of those times, only to find out it was a pretty piece of paste.( Years later, as Angie’s talents became more polished, relieving ladies of their dangling brooches, like this blood ruby, became her specialty.. the Eds.) Angie’s eyes moved on. The rest of the snooty lady’s jewels matched her necklace. Long earrings, free clipped, dangling brightly from her earlobe s. A pair of wide ruby bracelets clasped tightly home around elegant red elbow length satin gloves, sparkled devastatingly, matching her brooch. Her long fingers were home to a pair of ruby and diamond rings and a third ring set with a gold band and a vulgarly large solitaire diamond.
**
Angie’s attention turned to the daughter, whom had been helped by her Father , squirming, from the chocolate coloured satin cape that she had been wearing. The youngster, all of about 10, was wearing a cream coloured long puffy sleeved dress with a brown satin sash encircling her waist that matched her Cape. The young lady possessed impossible large bright eyes. The only thing that held more shine than those doe like eyes had been the antique rhinestone diamond necklace that fell dripping ever so invitingly down the front of the precious little imp’s rich glossy gown. The rest of her matching rhinestones (obviously belonging to the child’s mother) consisted of an engaging display of a bracelet, pair of dangling, screwed on clasp earrings, and matching rings encircling a chubby finger one on each hand. It all gleamed brightly, invitingly from her svelte girlish figure. A large round pin held her sash up in place; it sparkled with what looked like a ring consisting of one caret diamonds, as unlikely as it was they could be real.
**
The two females of the family presented a pretty package indeed. Not one to pass up an invite that alluring, Angie walked by , with the pretext of heading to a back exit behind the table the little family had staked, just so she could get a closer peek.
**
Angie’s practiced eye took in a wealth of information during the few seconds it took her to walk up and pass the group, so involved with themselves they never even looked her way. Her attention focused upon the young mother first scoping head to toe.
**
Angie scrutinized the brooch; it was definitely worth the effort. In her mind’s eye, Angie envisioned the mother as a stumbling drunk “bumping into” Angie. Fingers whisking along the slippery lustrously softness of the gown, as the lady was steadied. Angie would accept the women apologies and the pair would part their ways, Angie from the young mother, and the magnificent brooch from the rich satiny red gown. But then the mother raised her head, looking up past Angie, towards a commotion being made behind her. Typical Angie thought, she doesn’t recognize me, so I don’t exist, like some sort of servant. But it was as she caught the young mother in full profile that she realized this lady looked strikingly similar to another woman who had been wearing an expensive dress of teal charmeuse that Angie had had been having a long conversation with, while relieving the woman’s finger of a costly diamond sapphire ring. It had happened only just last weekend at a formal function, and Angie figured she may have not recognized her in passing, but may if Angie were to use one of her approaches again with the intent of taking some of her jewelry, he memory may be jarred, and she may remember her missing ring. This was why Angie only allowed herself to ply her trade for no more than a month in any given place per year. This was from a lesson she had learned early on in her career. And so, for that reason alone, Angie decided to, at least temporarily, abandon any designs she had on the young mother’s brooch, allowing her devious intentions to evaporate from her mind like smoke on the wind. There were plenty more fish in the sea she told herself.
**
Angie still allowed herself a quick appraisal of the squirming 10 year old. She admired the glossy dress of slippery satin that her mother had conveniently dressed her daughter up in, as it fell spilling down to her black open toed shoes. Angie’s fingers started to tingle; this was a perfect tickling gown. Angie liked to think of any long dress or gown that swept down to a females heels as a” tickling gown”. All it took was a strategically placed foot timed with a well place nudge to send the chosen victim tumbling. During the ensuing diversion, Angie would use her long subtle fingers to swiftly probe along the gowned figure, tickling she like to call it due to the tingling sensation of the usually rich material of the victim’s attire. In this fashion, a pre-targeted piece of valuable jewelry could then be easily acquired, no matter what its placement had been on the unfortunate female. If only the chatty youngster had something on better than rhinestones. It was a crying shame to have a child that young dolled up like an adult, but not wearing adult jewels.
**
Angie continued to walk past, unseen, and went out the door. She found herself in a large serenity garden of roses and shrubs, surrounded by a 10 foot high well-trimmed hedge. The sort of garden one usually found in those days around upscale Churches. The only exit was a gate leading onto the parking lot on the side of the church. Here was positioned a solitary, lonely guard in a neat little guard hut. In the opposite, far corner was a statue of Cupid, arrow drawn, standing above a display of blooming moss roses at the end opposite to the gate. There was always potential in places like these.
**
Angie had started to walk over to the Cupid statue when she heard the exit door open. Turning, she saw the young girl, whose mother’s brooch Angie had been scoping out, looking out the door. She snuck through, running out alone, silky tickling gown swishing out behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched the girls rhinestones sparkle radiantly. She actually turned to head towards the path the unsuspecting child was running up, flexing her fingers as she contemplating a little warm up practice. Angie watched as the dolled up imps necklace flashed with pinpricks of coloure as it bounced to and fro as she ran happily up the path .Angie turned her back to the girl, waiting to hear the telltale click of her heels come up just behind her. She would then move, bumping into the girl as she passed, tripping her to the ground. After which Angie would help her up, removing the girl’s fancy necklace in the process. Come to Mama Angie whispered under her breath, waiting to make her move as the skipping heels grew ever louder.
**
But then Angie froze, hearing the clicking of the exit door again opening behind her. She checked her stride letting the daughter slither past without a glance. She headed again towards the statue, watching her prize move on ahead. Then she heard the father in the background calling out to his little princess. The youngster turned, and ran back, beaming at Angie as she passed. Angie smiled back, her eyes again traveling to the girls neckline, and the sparkling jewelry the outlined her throat. It had been a silly thought she chided herself, as the girl passed from view. If only the necklace had been real, and the father about ten minutes later in discovering his daughter absence. It would have been an unbelievably easy pluck and she could be out the gate before anyone was the wiser. And the best part was that they would probably believe the scampering girl had just lost it in the garden. And, while the parents were looking about, Angie would have been free to renter to ply her trade again. As it was, it was silly of Angie, risking her opportunity on a child’s bauble worth a mere pittance compared to some of the other offerings so readily being flaunted this evening by her adult counterparts.
**
Angie continued her casual stroll through the Garden, happily playing over in her mind some of the jewels that she would like to see adorning the female guests inside, and the scenarios she may be using to acquire them
**
Finding herself approaching the guard hut, she allowed herself a glance back. Jealously she watched the father, who had caught and was carrying his slippery attired daughter, heading back inside. How Angie wished she had been the one carrying the squirming little imp, it would have been like a smorgasbord, with jewels instead of food. Pity her mother had not put the good stuff on the daughter, she sighed to herself. Tonight she would have to work for her butter. She walked past the bored guard, nodding at him, receiving a rather lecherous look in return. A smile was forming across her cunning face, for now it was time to get down to the real business at hand.
**
The affair turned out to be quite a showcase for the very rich. Who were indiscreetly flaunting their riches, trying to outdo one another, probably for the benefit of the politicians’ attention? Certainly not for the attention of the designer satin gowned and flashy diamonded daughter, whom most of the guests hardly knew, or had ever met.
**
Angie always felt like a little kid in a candy shoppe at these lavish affairs.
She spent the first part of the reception mingling and thoroughly enjoying the show her the reception’s guests were u wittingly putting on. Angie, wearing no jewels herself, was something of an anomaly compared to her fellow guests.
**
There were over a thousand luxuriously coloured, squawking female birds and their young chicks pompously displaying valuable finery, oblivious of the cat amongst them waiting to pounce. Angie patently mingled, watching as the adult guests had their fill of food and drink.
Once their guard began to relax, Angie raised hers’, her probingly skillful fingers now more than prepared to begin and ply her trade. For the more they imbibed, the less guarded they were, both about themselves and their female offspring. Angie would start with the adults, 2 or 3 of the right pieces of jewelry, once acquired, and would mean she could call it a night and have enough to support her for a solid month. If she came up empty in that department, her back up would then center on the female off-spring, daughters and nieces.
Most of said offspring would be by then scattered about, aware that their parents were no longer paying them any heed, exploring and playing, sporting their fancy satin gowns, silken dresses, and their dainty jewelry, ripe for the picking. Giving pickpockets like Angie endless opportunity to ply their trade on them, once they had finished working through the adults. Or if the thieves were beginners, plenty of easy practice while “learning the ropes!”
**
Now, when Angie herself was just starting out as a young pickpocket, she stumbled across a treatise written by a man using the pseudonym “Gaston Monescu”. Written around 1826, entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets.
Angie had studied it religiously, especially a ploy called the “Necklace Flimp.” This tactic was primarily used for body thieves working alone. Angie had been surprised to learn that a pickpocket could raise his/her skill level above just acquiring wallets. Having the ability to lift a woman’s necklace amazed her, not to mention the profit that could be realized. With practice, Angie had found that not only was it a good technique for acquiring necklaces, but it worked for other pieces of worn jewelry as well.
It was relatively simple process, but took a long time to master.
First part was to employ psychology and watch the potential victim for the unique movements and quirks in their personality and actions that could provide an opportunity for her skills. Then observe the selected piece the victim wore, for value, type of clasp, make, and accessibility. The second part was to employ a bump, slip, or grasp, and in one motion, flick open the studied clasp and send the piece away from the body by either pulling and palming, or dropping it to the floor or ground for retrieval later. If she was noticed, it was “sorry, miss, very clumsy of me” “here let me get if for you, no harm done?” Then walk away and let the waters settle before trying yet again (sometimes even on the same person!)
Angie had practiced the jewelry flimp until she had the technique totally mastered. Starting out first on specially dressed up mannequins in her apartment, than trying it on small pieces of cheap baubles worn by real women in crowded streets and stores. Then on younger, less guarded, better jewelry wearing young girls attending proms and social dances. Young looking for her age at the time, Angie had fit right in amongst them. Then, finally, she graduated to lifting the better jewels of the older, wealthy women attending society’s finer parties and receptions. And it was this path that led her here today, and would also lead several unlucky females to report missing jewelry to their respective insurance companies.
**
See Album “Angie having a Ball” for additional background on our master thief with the light fingers.
**
Angie now eagerly employed those useful talents learned from monsieur Monescu’s little pamphlet at the wedding reception. She mingled freely, carrying around a drink that never touched her lips. She watched and learned, her trained eyes missing very little. Soon, like that hypothetical kid in a candy shoppe, Angie’s head was spinning from so much to choose from that she really could not make any easy choice. So, she waited and watched patiently, knowing opportunity would knock.
**
Then, like it usually happened with Angie, the first genuine opportunity unexpectedly presented herself. Angie literally was run into a rather awkward, spindly lady in thick glasses clad in a fetchingly expensive costume consisting of a thick silver satin blouse with hanging ruffles down its front, combined with a long rustling tiered skirt that swept down to the top of her open toed silver high heels. Her diamond jewelry shone with exuberant flames as they caught the light from the many chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling. The lady expressed frantically her apologies, placing a hand with well ringed fingers on Angie’s shoulder, where they sparkled merrily. No worries Angie said smiling, her eyes taking it all in without appearing to move. She let the frazzled lady leave, allowing her a head start, it was only sporting to do so.
**
Angie shadowed her quarry for a while, seemingly rewarded for her efforts when the lady managed to spill a bit of her drink down on her skirt. In a show of flashing silvery satin and diamonds ,she retreated and disappeared into a nearby powder room, with Angie following eagerly, opportunity knocking.
**
As Angie grabbed onto the closing powder room door, a mid- twenty something girl in a deep green velvet gown came out. Her only jewelry was a wide diamond bracelet wrapped around a wrist of the matching long green gloves she wore. Angie caught it out of the corner of her eye, realizing that it was as expensive as it was bright. But it was her friend, a willowy short haired pretty young thing in a glamorous Chocolate Satin gown that made Angie’s jaw drop. Her jewels, like her friends, were also sparse, but enormously pricy. The long white satin gloves that graced her hands and arms also held matching bracelets, thin, but each one worth the effort. But her real eye catcher was the row of authentic, one caret white diamonds that were rippling exquisite fire along her throat. Angie held the door for them, nodding to as they passed. Noses in the air, they did not appear to notice Angie. Then, with the ladies backs to her, Angie abandoned Miss silver satin and turned to follow. Angie got in behind the two with the intention of getting a closure examination of the clasp of the fiery diamond necklace Miss Chocolate satin was wearing.
**
However, Angie never got her closer look. For at that moment the tossing of the bride’s boutique was announced and Angie was overwhelmed by a mad dash of single ladies heading for the bride. On a lark she allowed herself to be swept along, losing sight of Miss Chocolate satin, but found herself right smack behind Miss Green velvet and her cheerfully sparkling diamond bracelet, a beautifully expensive piece that would have cost someone a king’s ransom. Angie’s fingers began their all too familiar tingling, eager for a chance to acquire jewelry that valuable, but not for any king, just for herself!
**
Though the night was still relatively early, and Angie still had visions of those exquisite rippling diamonds of the pretty Miss in chocolate satin on her mind, she simply could not pass up this opportunity. Angie wedged herself close behind her chosen victim as the multitude of hopeful young women pressed forward to try their luck. As the Bride teased her guests before getting ready to toss her bouquet of white and red roses, Angie expertly scrutinized the bracelet as it dangled from the green velvet glove. When the bride finally turned her back and raised her arms every one of the richly clad single women’s eyes was focused on the bride’s bouquet, Angie’s eyes were fixated on the bracelet. With the music playing loud, the crowd giggling and laughing, and all eyes focused on the gorgeously outfitted young long haired bride, Angie again felt opportunity knocking. Her pulse beating in rhythm with the music, she made ready to seize the chance when it presented itself. The roses flew through the air and all the women raised their hands high, looking all for the world like being involved in a stick-up. Angie timed it perfectly, snapping the clasp, and snatching the bracelet easily away from the gloved wrist of its owner as she raised her arms high to grab at the boutique. In her excitement, shared by everyone, Miss Green velvet ( who did not catch the bouget of roses) never felt a thing. Angie had smirked as she left the giggling group, stowing securely the purloined diamonds, as she imagined what it would have been like to watch that group robbed in a mass stick-up. The money that some enterprising soul could have made from that haul would have been astronomical.
**
She went to the open bar, lighting her first cigarette; she ordered her first real drink of the night. She could feel the coolness of the weighty bracelet in its hiding spot, and Angie, pleased with herself, calmly sipped her drink as she relished in the moment. The toss of the Brides Boutique was, in Angie’s experienced opinion, one of the three common events occurring during a wedding reception that were fertilely prime times for pickpocketing. (Editor’s note.. Miss D. mysteriously never divulged what she considered the other two prime events to be….)
**
She looked about without a worry in the world, coolly watching the antics of some of the younger women on the dance floor. She spied the young miss in the green velvet gown over in a corner talking in an animated fashion with several other women. Green velvet gown’s now bare velvet glove, apparently not noticed by anyone but Angie. One of her group was displaying some bright emeralds peeking through the long silver fur she was wearing, obviously she was leaving, and she was talking excitedly about something to the group formed around her! Nowhere in sight was Miss chocolate satin, too bad, Angie would have loved another peek before leaving.
Angie watched around the room causally, as the cold bracelet pressed expensively against her figure from its hiding spot. She eventually lost track of green velvet and her friends while finishing her drink. Setting down the empty glass, she decided it was time to call it a night. The bracelet now in her possession was easily worth as much as the 2 or 3 separate pieces she usually acquired at functions like these, added together! And, she needed her rest, Angie had a couple of plans the next day, one revolving around the female guests who would be attending an upscale afternoon prom fashion show a, the other, an evening opera performance (invited guests only, and her contact had managed to supply a ticket, at a hefty price!) No rest for the wicked, Angie told herself.
**
On her way out of the main lobby, she found herself leaving behind the very lady in green velvet whose bracelet was now in Angie’s possession. She was with the same gaggle of her similarly dressed friends, including the one exhibiting the emeralds. However, miss chocolate satin was still not visible. They were laughing and joking as they collected their assorted pretty wraps, obviously heading for a nightclub. If she had not already relieved one of them of a bauble, Angie might have invited herself along, if only to have a go at some emeralds. Angie hesitated about leaving withy them, then shrugged, followed the group out the door past the pair of bored rent a cops.
**
She remembered thinking, as she followed the elegant young princesses ,their fluid gowns peeking from under their various furs and wraps, how shallow the very rich could be. She wondered if Miss Green velvets friends had even noticed that she had had diamonds around the wrist of her glove, let alone that they were now missing. She wondered how long it would be before the bracelets loss was discovered. She figured it would be several hours, long enough for its owner not to be sure what place they had been lost. As young Miss Green velvet fancy gown and her friends turned right outside the exit, Angie turned left, heading towards the guard hut at the entrance to the garden.
She decided not to follow them but rather circle around the outside of the garden to give her victim time to leave.
**
That simple decision to make a left turn proved to be a major turning point in Angie’s fortunes that evening.
**
As Angie passed the hut guarding the entrance to the serenity garden, she noticed it was deserted.
It was as she was looking it over, that she heard the sounds of clicking heels moving fast, followed by the sounds of a young girl giggling. On the alert she stole to the backside of the hut, soon spying a splash of something blue and silky between the gaps of a couple of large bushes. Her senses on their highest peak, she began to move cautiously in, hoping the female making the noise would be in need of aid and comfort perhaps.
**
She soon spotted a young lady of about 14 bending over, hands on her knees as she panted heavily. Her back was to Angie, and what pretty back it was. She was nicely attired in a long gown of shiny material dyed deep blue like an afternoon, cloudless summer sky. The gown cascaded down along her petite figure, spilling out on the ground around her feet. Her hair was pulled back, easily displaying a pair of small diamond and sapphire earrings, not rhinestones for this one, but the real McCoy. Around one finger was a gold ring with sapphires, and from her left wrist dangled a thin silver bracelet with a row of diamond chips, both pretty, both valuably real. But it was her last piece of visible jewelry that stole the show. It hung, swinging to and from her neck on a thick braided chain of solid silver. On its end, like a hypnotists prism, was a silver pendent in the shape of a flower, with 1 inch long, pear shaped real diamonds as petals and a fully 2 inch in circumference center stone of deep sea blue. Angie watched it, her eyes following it for a full minute, its expensive fire sealing its own fate as Angie began flexing her fingers. Angie took her eyes off of it and looked around to see why the princess had been running. But all was still as the girl continued to peek through the branches towards the back door leading into the hall. Angie silently approached, and walking up to the pretty miss she bent down and in a friendly tone, asked who she was running from.
**
I played a joke on my sister, and now I’m hiding from her, piped the girl breathlessly, as Angie placed a hand upon the girls shoulder in a conspiratorial fashion, said shoulder made silky soft by the gowns half sleeve.
**
I know a better place where you can hide from her, Angie whispered in the girl’s ear, the dangling earring ever so close to her lips. The girl looked up, smiling, and Angie pointed towards the guard hut, and as the girl looked, Angie’s fingers glided up along the silky shoulder and lifted the thick silver chain up from the back of the gowns’ scooped collar. Come Angie said, and as the girl rose Angie’s fingers nimbly flicked open the chains’ lobster clasp, holding onto the clasp as the other end of the chain slipped down, allowing the pendent to slide free and fall onto the grass at the girls feet, where it lay shimmering. Angie moved her hand to the girls shoulder, squeezing it, while slipping off the braided silver chain with her other hand, whisking it back and away from the guileless young girl. Angie led her princess away from the spot and walked with her to the guard’s hut, still empty, where she had her hide neath the counter.
**
Angie turned and went back to claim the pendent, there still was no sign of any sister. She secured the pendent, joining it with the chain and bracelet, and headed deeper into garden. Her plan was to watch the hut and see which way the girl went after getting bored waiting. But as she skirted the perimeter her plans were changed when, upon rounding a corner of the path at the far end, she saw yet another back belonging to a solitary lady in her late thirties, clad in a long slinky yellow coloured gown of expensively shiny taffeta, bending over to smell the yellow roses on a bush. Instinctively Angie knew two things about her. One was that whatever jewels this lady would be wearing, they would be expensive, and the other was that with an expensive gown like that; the lady would undoubtedly be wearing her jewels. Angie suddenly became aware that her fingers were tingling, as an all too familiar whelming feeling again delightfully washed over her.
**
Angie found herself automatically turning back onto the garden path. She headed around the women and went down to the cupid’s statue, where now out of sight, she carefully hid the purloined bracelet, and still warm fiery pendent and its ‘fancy silvery braided chain..
**
She then headed towards the unsuspecting flower admirer. The ladies’ long brunette hair had fallen, flowing down the backside of her shiny taffeta gown. Angie could see rings and a bracelet gleaming as she was holding up the rose to her face. A long double rope of pearls hung swaying deliciously from her throat. Coming up behind her Angie stood watching; calculating until the lady rose and with a start realized she was not alone.
**
Pretty Angie said, her eyes on the pearls now draping down the front of her marks yellow gown. They are lovely, are they not? The damsel responded thinking Angie was referring to the roses. Just like the ones in the park, my husband and I walked through on our way to catch a cab today. Actually, I meant your dress Angie said complimentary. Thank you the lady practically squealed, I love the way it flows, and she swirled it about to show Angie, who got an eyeful of sparkly jewelry for her efforts. As she continued engaging the women in conversation, Angie decided upon attempting for the woman’s necklace of pearl. Seeing opportunity knocking when Yellow Taffeta pulled her long hair forward so it hang down the front of her gorgeous gown, laying silkily over one shoulder, nicely exposing the pricy necklaces clasp. Angie looked around, they were alone, out of site of the opposite end of the garden where the inside door was, and the guards hut with it’s pretty occupant.
**
Angie, using the marks interest in roses to her advantage, managed to steer the capricious damsel in shiny yellow over to the cupid’s statue. There, she placed a hand upon a silky taffeta covered shoulder, and pointed down to the shrub of moss roses growing at the foot of the statue . When she stooped down to get a closer look, Angie’s fingers whisked from her marks shoulder to the clasp, in a single effort with two fingers, lifted it by the clasp, and snapped it open. At that moment the mark cried “spider” and jumped up, backing into Angie, who watched helplessly as the pearls fell down from the damsel’s throat and slipped along the front of the yellow taffeta gown. They fell with a soft plop unto the ground at their mistress’s feet. Angie tried to lead her away, hoping to come back and reclaim the necklace. But as Angie pointed to another rose bush some distance away, the lady took a step forward, instead of back, planting her feet right onto the pearl necklace. Hey she exclaiming, what’s that, looking down to her high heeled foot? Oh, my pearls the lady squealed again, a glittering hand shooting to feel around her throat. Angie reached down, and reluctantly retrieved them from the base of the rose bush for the squealing lady in yellow . My husband would not have been pleased if I had lost these, she said as Angie held them, feeling their pricey smoothness.
**
She asked if Angie could help her put them on, my maid usually does this sort of thing, you know. Angie reluctantly complied, re- hanging the pearls as the pretty damsel held up her hair, and reluctantly redid the clasp. The Damsel thanked Angie by embracing her in a full hug, her diamond and pearl earring hitting Angie’s cheek. But Angie’s arms were being held by the hugging woman, so Angie was able to only watch the tantalizingly close earring sway free. Angie left yellow-gowned damsel in the garden, getting nothing for her efforts other than the feel of an expensive gown of the likes she could probably never afford to own.
**
With the pretty damsel hovering around the cupid statue, Angie decided to go back into the reception hall until the coast was clear. She carefully looked towards the Guards hut, and seeing that the guard had returned, figured the girl, so fetchingly clad in blue, had been rousted out, so that loose end was probably tied up. She just had to keep a careful eye out. The quite valuable bracelet and pricy necklace with its pendent were well hidden; there was absolutely no danger of someone stumbling over it.
**
Truth was, Angie had found her appetite wetted and once again visions of a lady in chocolate brown satin exhibiting a row of flashy diamonds, teased her thoughts. An accomplished pickpocket like herself had a couple of well-practiced ploys she could utilize to obtain a tight fitting necklace from its mistress. In addition, Angie was now determined to find her and to risk a try. She had really nothing to lose.
**
It took almost an hour of hunting amongst the now well liquored, gaily mingling crowd before Angie could admit to herself that there was absolutely no sign of the willowy lady in the stunning chocolate satin gown. Damn she thought to herself, those diamonds were something special. She shrugged it off, reciting in her mind a wicked little mantra of hers, “Another one who got away, a chance to lose her jewels to Angie on another day!” She strolled about pondering on what her next course of action could be. There had been no sign of the pretty girl in blue whose necklace Angie now had hidden away, and Miss Green Velvet was definitely out of the picture, so she felt that it was still safe to try to pluck one last bird or chick. In her hunt for the brown, Angie had seen several inviting prospects; one lady(purple satin, diamonds), two girls( ivory silk, pearled pin; red satin, gold necklace set with chips of precious stones), and now was weighing the risks.
It was at that point she once again espied the thickly bespectacled awkwardly introverted young lady invitingly wearing the thick silver satin ruffled blouse, which she had been tailing much earlier. And as Angie watched here, she again accepted the invitation. Her prey had appeared on the dance floor, being led around by a rather charming young man. That would make a dandy consolation prize Angie drooled to herself happily as she took in the sparkling show put on by the dancers jewels.
**
Angie looked her over, reacquainting herself with the jewels she so nicely was displaying. A pair of long earrings cascaded down from her earlobes where they precariously held on by antique silver claps. Angie relished the opportunity to “flimp” pairs of earrings like these. Heavily jeweled, each one was worth a tidy sum. Angie mulled this as she continued to study the jewels of her appealingly dressed new target.
**
The girl’s only ring was a solitaire diamond of at least 3 carets on a thick solid gold band worn vulnerably loose on her un-gloved, bare ring finger. A wide silver cuff bracelet with what appeared to be at least seven rows of matching, shimmering diamonds was dangling around her left wrist (she was right handed Angie observed) . The bracelet had a habit of lying over her sleeve, and Angie could see that it was a costly tiffany piece, whose clasp was exceptionally easy to flick open. A diamond pendent hung swinging from her satiny ruffles, held by an extravagantly thick silver chain with a simple , small eye in hook clasp. The Diamonds in the pendent were as shimmery as stars plucked from the night’s sky.
Angie remembered reading that in a poem from a book she had picked up years earlier in a library, while stalking a young mother in a satin dress, wearing an authentic Gruen Watch on one wrist, and a bracelet of diamonds on the other, that had gone into the library in pursuit of her young son running inside. Like that young mother, It was obvious that this lady in silver satin was not accustomed to wearing jewels, and that set probably spent most of their days lying in a safe. Angie licked her lips as she imagined what the other contents of that safe might look like
**
Angie moved in to allow herself a much closer appraisal of her potential victim’s jewels.
The young lady was totally oblivious to anything but the rather surprisingly strikingly handsome man who to all appearances was her Fiancée, who was holding her ever so close. But Angie was able to see enough of what she wanted to. The young Ladies’ thick satin blouse shone richly in the lights, moving like glistening wet liquid silver, while from her waist spilled the long black skirt with satiny tiers that swished and swayed nicely along her figure as she uneasily danced. Her jewels were bursting with colour as they played hide and seek with Angie’s watchful eyes. From all appearances, they were a mismatched couple. He seemed to know everyone and moved with a confident air, she was just the opposite. It made an enticingly intriguing package indeed for someone with Angie’s skills.
**
Silver Satin was the perfect “Gaston Monescu” type of mark, a perfect combination of classic mannerisms, clothing and Jewels worth anyone’s efforts to take. This was the only fly in the ointment that Angie observed. For by the bar she could see that two other sets of eyes were watching the same young lady in shiny satin and blazing diamonds. Angie intuitively knew they were drooling over acquiring jewels she was wearing.
**
She had noticed the pair of young men in loose fitting suits when they had entered a little earlier about the same time as Angie’s reappearance. They were obviously casing the jewels of any woman, young, or old, who walked past them. Angie knew their type, simple thieves, with no real skills outside of holding a knife in a dark alley to the throat of their victim while they unceremoniously searched and stripped them of their treasures. Angie saw that they were whispering amongst themselves and instinctively knew they were watching and waiting for the fetchingly clumsy silver clad lady clad loaded with diamonds, to leave the “establishment”.
**
She is mine Angie whispered, possessively snarling the words under her breath. She looked around as she thought about how best to handle the situation. Her eyes opened wide as she saw a familiar woman waiting by the coat checkroom. Perfect she purred, placing an unlit a cigarette in her mouth and heading over the bar.
**
She sauntered up next to them and ordered a drink, catching their eyes she asked for a light. As they obliged she took a pull and puffed out smoke, asking in a casual tone, “how about my jewels? Boys!” They could see perfectly well that she was not wearing any, and one snarled, “What’s your game, sister?” Angie snarled back in her best cop like manner, “We know what you boys are up to, and we suggest you both call it a night!” “Yer no cop sister”, they challenged, calling her bluff,” what’s your angle!” Angie calmly looked towards the entrance, perfect she mused as she saw their eyes follow hers, “Maybe not” she stated, “but see that lady being helped into the black mink?” “The shiny yellow dame?” one of em asked? “ “yes”, Angie replied taking a puff on her cigarette before going on, “ well that man’s she’s with used to be mine .” “ Now, I aint one to hold a grudge, but, those pearls she’s waltzing around with are worth plenty. And her rings, they are an easy two grand alone.”
**
Angie could tell she had captured their interest, and that they were now paying rapt attention to the lady in the thick yellow taffeta gown whose necklace Angie had almost acquired in the serenity garden. One of them looked at Angie, a suspicious look crossing his mug, “What’s innit for you sister?!” He demanded. Angie looked at him, dripping with sarcastic innocence. “Nothing brother, other than to make sure the jewels of the dame who stole my husband get home safely .” “I just worry,’ Angie went on, “there is a park in front of their residence and that dame in yellow likes to stroll through it to smell the roses after their cab drops them off.” They watched the couple leave, her expensive yellow gown sweeping provocatively at her gold high- heeled shoed feet. Angie looked them in the eyes and said smoothly, “ Gentlemen such as yourselves may want to do a good deed and follow them home to make sure some miscreant doesn’t spot her in those valuable jewels and mink. Not to mention her man’s gold watch and three hundred sawbucks in his wallet!” Angie winked at the pair, “If you catch my drift.” She added.
**
Still not totally convinced about what Angie was selling them, but equally unsure over who Angie was, both men got up and quickly headed towards the main exit as the last slip of an expensive yellow taffeta gown disappeared through the door. Smugly, Angie puffed on her cigarette as she watched them leave.
**
It was then that a hand was placed on Angie’s shoulder from behind.
**
She froze for a split second, before becoming aware of the soft mummer of satin, and of a slender finger was home to a sparkling sapphire ring. Angie smiled and turned around, facing the girl. Pardon me ma’am, she says politely, but do you remember me? Of course dear, Angie gushes while beaming at the forlorn looking miss in the fetching blue gown; I met you in the garden. Yes she confirms, but I lost my necklace somewhere and I was wondering if you remember if I had it on when we met? Angie’s heart leapt, bless this babe in the woods, thinking her necklace had merely been lost, never suspecting that someone like, say, Angie could have been the cause. She absolutely adored the trusting nature of rich girls this age. For that aspect of their purity had allowed Angie, far too easily sometimes, to lift many a jewel from well attired unsuspecting young princesses like this one. Who was now standing before her, miserable, her desirable diamond and sapphire earrings dangling ever so beckoningly, her sad puppy eyes pleading ever so sweetly, and her missing necklace closer than she could ever imagine.
**
No dear, I did not see you with a necklace, Angie lied coolly, as she reached out and stroked the girl tenderly alongside her face, her fingers touching one of the earrings. Angie was looking her fully in the eye, you didn’t lose anything else, and did you dear she asked with a concerned tone. The girl checked her earrings, bracelet and ring (Angie smiled to herself, silently thinking thanks for the info kid!) But when she spoke, it was with hopeful words laced with honey, If you want, I can help you look, my dear. The girl’s eyes lit up for a second, thank you ma’am, I wanted to, but papa said to wait until tomorrow when the light is better.
Angie smiled winningly, don’t worry dear, I’m sure its somewhere in the garden. Someone will find it, she promised, thinking to herself maliciously, and keep it for their own profit!
**
Thank you Ma’am she chirped, at the encouraging words that had been spoken, luckily she could not hear the ones Angie was thinking to herself, and turning moved off, her scrumptious gown swishing pleasantly around her silver heels. Angie watched, as the girl disappeared in the crowd Angie marked her direction.
**
Angie Imagined if the girl had accepted her offer, and she had left with the vulnerable, unguarded princess to search in the garden, and in the process help relieve her of her remaining jewels. There would be enough light with the gas lamps that lined the paths in the garden. Enough light, so that as Angie helped the princess look, her fingers could slip ever so delicately slip in and search along her shiny sky blue gown.
**
Angie licked her lips slowly as she fantasied about the search. The girl bending down to look under a bush, Angie placing her knee sharply in a certain spot below the girl’s armpit, temporarily numbing her upper body. Allowing Angie enough time to pull off both her earrings without feeling it,( this also worked well on working off broaches placed in upper parts of gowns and dresses, not to mention necklaces!) The bracelet would be no problem; it would be the easiest and probably the first, snatched off while the rich girl’s attention was easily diverted away. Since she was not wearing silky gloves, her ring would be the trickiest, but manageable, by either having her walk too close to a water fountain and hopefully having her get her fingers wet, or by simple holding onto her hand and tripping her by stepping on her gowns hem. And just like that, Angie would become that much richer, the rich girl that much poorer. And it all would be done without giving the girl any additional stress, like say she had run into the two muggers Angie had chased off. They may not have been content with just the jewels of a girl dressed as she was that they had found wandering alone in the gardens at night.
**
As Angie excitedly thought about these things, she had trained her focus back upon her original meal ticket, whom for the second time that evening had almost been allowed to slip through Angie’s light fingers. Watching with half lidded eyes, the still dancing couple not unlike a wolf watches lambs, waiting for one to make an ill-fated move away from the flock. The lamb’s fate was sealed, when a vivacious blonde in a long wispy silken dress cut in on the dancing couple. Asking miss silver satin’s fiancé for a dance. He obliged, leaving his shimmering fiancée unaccompanied, nakedly exposed to the wolf that was Angie.
**
More than one way to skin a cat Angie thought, tingling from the thrill of the hunt her prey, now in a reachable situation. She happily headed towards the spot where Miss silver satin had moved off to. A small table, located conveniently by a powder room. One the way she grabbed a half full glass of red wine off a table. Angie circled around young miss silver satin, taking a position up about two table lengths behind her. She casually scoured the area; most of the nearby tables were deserted.
Knowing the band would stop playing soon for the evening; most of the couples were out on the dance floor. All in all, the situation presented the perfect opportunity for some one of Angie’s persuasion.
**
Angie watched as the young lady picked up a glittery silver clutch and opening it, started to search inside. Angie moved swiftly, catching up behind her , tripping intentionally into her, splashing some wine onto the front of the silver satin blouse as the unfortunate lady dropped her purse in surprise. Oh my gosh, I did not see you, miss silver satin pleaded apologetically to Angie, more concerned over Angie’s feelings than her soiled satin blouse. Angie accepted her apology and, producing a lacey silk handkerchief, began to wipe themselves both down.
Angie’s practiced eyes swiftly took it all in. Miss silver satin’s pretty earrings swaying out vulnerably from her long straggly hair as it fell into her face. The clasp of her necklace was also exposed and within easy grasp. A s she reached out for the floor to steady herself, Angie’s eyes took in the sparkling ring on her now wetted finger and then watched the wide bracelet with its’ easily open able clasp slip up glitteringly over her sleeve.
The girl, now thoroughly flustered, started to rise, tripping over her slippery long skirt( with no help from Angie) Angie caught her, taking advantage of the split second opening she had been waiting for and Angie took it, making her selection as she steadied the poor thing with one hand, as the other caressed along a slick silver satin back. Angie’s long supple fingers darted in and deftly did their trick, this time with no spiders interfering. She quickly removed her chosen glittery prize from the distracted lady, who never noticed so much as a prick as Angie removed the expensive piece from her person in the confusion.
**
Angie secreted he shiny jewel as she helped miss silver satin collect herself. Than they rose, and Angie happily accepted miss silver satin profuse and obviously well used, apology. Then, as she fumbled nervously with her thick glasses, Angie laid a calming hand upon her shoulder, her fingers relishing in the richness of her victims sleek ruffled blouse. Miss silver satin was by now so distracted and embarrassed that Angie was all but assured of a clean get away.
However, as an extra measure of caution Angie intentionally jarred silver satin’s elbow of the hand steadying her eye glasses. Thus sending her glasses falling from her face to the floor with a small clatter, then Angie kicked them under a table before the startled lady could react. Angie offered to help, but the lady implored that she was okay, just needed to find her glasses. Angie left as Miss silver satin started to frantically grope around for her glasses, her silver blouse and remaining jewels shimmering brightly along their miserable mistress..
Angie took her leave, knowing that once she found her glasses, Miss silver satin would flee for sanctuary into the ladies powder room, buying her more than enough time for Angie to make her escape. Taking one last look over the dance floor, she blithely saw that miss silver satins fiancé was still in the clutches of the vivacious blonde-haired girl, still safely out of the picture. Angie made her way with purpose to the rear exit leading to the garden that she had used earlier, intending to head out into the serenity garden to collect the hidden bracelet and pendent, adding them to her purloined plunder.
**
As she walked amongst the mostly deserted tables, her mind went to the woman in yellow taffeta and imagined that right about now she would be standing with raised arms and a forlorn look. Ruefully wincing as the man who was holding her mink busily stripped those luscious pearls from the neckline of her tight gown, as the shiny yellow material gleamed in the moonlight! Serves her right for being afraid of spiders, Angie thought unforgivingly.
***
Angie’s mind also went to the poor young princess in blue with the missing necklace. She looked towards the area she had headed, opposite of the back exit to the garden. She reluctantly decided not to push her luck, there was a sister and parents to contend with, and she really had no time left. So she decided to call it a day, a rather successful day, and made her way to retrieve her loot.
**
Angie had now reached the now deserted table by the back exit where the lady in the crimson gown and blood red rubies had been earlier, along with her rhinestone encumbered 10 year old daughter and handsome husband.
**
She paused between the table and the bench, something was not quite right, She eyed the area around the dance floor for any signs of trouble that may be centered on the quite valuable jewels now in her possession. All was quiet, except for a little murmur behind her. Turning she looked at the bench and was shocked to discover the soundly asleep ten year old, using the long rusty sable fur as a blanket. What have we here, Angie thought, licking her lips wickedly?
**
Angie pursed her lips, checking the coast; spotting the young girl’s parents, still on the dance floor, a safe distance away the other side of the room. No sign of miss silver satin. No one else was nearby. Perfect. She went over, bending down so the table hid her. The child looked so vulnerably innocent, sound asleep as she lay on her side, facing Angie. She was clutching an arm of the sable like a warm fuzzy teddy bear, her ring sparkling. Angie gently tugged the mink from the girl’s clasp, and gradually pulled until the fur swished away from along the inert silken figure on the bench, where it fell into a pile on the floor. The child looked very innocent, very vulnerable, like a sleeping princess. An earring lay exposed over one shoulder, her necklace dangled down slightly askew from her slender throat, the pin holding her sash, all of which shone brightly now that it was exposed to the low lights of the ballroom, still called out. Too bad, Angie thought to herself, too bad the mother had not dressed her little doll in real diamonds.
**
Angie again looked to the dance floor; she could see the mother’s jewelry twinkling brightly as the child’s parents danced close, very unaware of anything else but themselves. She looked back over the girl, contemplating. But the song was winding down, Angie stooped to pick up the sable, bird in hand she thought, and placing the rich fur over her arm, stood just as the song ended. Looking at the exit door, so near and yet so far, she started to hasten to it, but checked herself as the band immediately started another, rather slow song that Angie knew quite well.
**
She hesitated, incredibly, everyone was staying on the floor for the final dance, she looked back at the bench, and the sleeping imps exposed jewels still shined, tempting her to come for them. Angie knew that she would only have about four minutes. Always open to new challenges, Angie chose to answer that sweet little invite that the necklace was extending out to her. Checking once again to make sure the parents was still obliviously dancing; she laid the mink down by the door and eased back to the bench. Kneeling down, Angie began to perform the delicate operation.
**
Lifting up the necklace she gently tugged it loose from around the sleeping child’s neck until the clasp appeared. She subtly flicked open the clasp, then shamelessly slipped the necklace from around its perch on the little whelp’s throat. It flickered like some slithering shiny snake, glittering as it came away. Like taking candy from a baby, Angie drooled happily, as she let the necklace run along her fingertips while watching the sleeping princess for a few seconds.
**
Her fitted cream coloured dress shimmered with expensive richness in the shadowy light. The poor thing was so soundly asleep after her long exhausting day that Angie figured she could have peeled the dress off her without causing a stir. This for a pickpocket would be the ultimate test, the pinnacle of her criminal class. But, Angie thought; if she ever had the opportunity to do so, it would have to be worth her while, like a shiny gown, an appealing sky blue gown with half sleeves and scooped collar. And the jewels would be sapphire drop earrings, bracelet and ring, not plain rhinestones. She licked her lips at the enticing thought of such a perfect “coup fera”, than told herself to get back to work, time was money.
**
She slipped her hand along the satin cape being used as a pillow and felt under the girls head until she felt the cold earring she was laying upon. Deftly undoing the screw she pulled it free, watching with delight as it came out from underneath.
**
Angie than, gently lifted, and nimbly stroked back the girl’s ultra-soft hair, exposing her long silvery earring. She pulled the jewel out and laid it out upon the child’s shoulder, where it lay, shimmering vibrantly. Then she reached in with her fingers and began unscrewed its clasp. Pulling it free she added it to her growing collection. She next lifted the hand that had held the warm sable, gently prying open her clenched fingers. The sleeping child never stirred. Angie gently slipped off the glittering ring. She then peeled back a silky sleeve, checking for the bracelet, finding her wrist was bare. The rest of the jewels were hiding securely on the side she was laying upon. Smiling wickedly to herself, an idea popped into Angie’s head.
**
The music was now almost to the halfway point, and Angie thought for a brief second that she should leave . Another quick scan assured her the coast was still clear, and Angie decided to press her luck, eagerly going back to work, putting her idea into motion.
Angie fingers felt along the sleeping child’s waist until she located the brooch. Quickly unfastening the brooch from the chocolate satin sash, she pulled it out. Watching as the diamonds caught fire and burst into vibrant life, unusually vivid for plain rhinestones she thought contemplatively. Angie plopping it in with the growing pile of the sleeping girls purloined baubles. Again reaching in along the warm waist, Angie gradually tugged at the now undone sash. The sleeping girl, unconsciously obliged by turning over on her other side, as the sash was pulled away.
**
Her arm with the ring and bracelet was now exposed. Lifting the arm , and peeling back the puffy sleeve, Angie found and unclasped the bracelet, slipping it away, then allowing it to dangle in triumph before letting it join its purloined mates. Then lifting the child’s hand she pulled at the ring, it was a little tight. Angie licked her fingers, and moistened the girls finger, than began slipping the ring off ever so gently from the along her finger. Almost there, Angie thought, as the ring joined its abducted companions in her pocket.
**
As Angie finished pocketing the last of the girls jewels, her victim whimpers something discernible in her sleep, her small hand feeling to pull up the missing warm sable she had been using as a blanket. Angie quickly looked around, spying a cheap linen coat hanging on a nearby hook, she grasped it and laid it over the stirring girl, stroking her for a precious few seconds. Then rising, calmly Angie snatched a shiny purse from the table, and moved off, unbelieving of her luck. She reclaimed the sable fur, and strolled out the door without looking back.
**
As Angie closed the door she heard the last notes of the song waning from inside. She licked her lip, that was close, but her luck had held. Now all that remained was to visit the Cupid Statue In the garden to reclaim her other prizes. As she reached the statue, Angie realized that she still had the child’s satin sash in her hand.
She smiled as she tied it, blindfolding the cupid statues eyes. Retrieving and pocketing the now stone cold diamond bracelet, and the young Princess in blue’s necklace with its shimmering pendent, she slowly looked around, the cost was clear. Angie coolly made her way to the gate, the bored guard offering to help her with the mink she was carrying. , Angie stopped, and handed it to him. Then turning, allowed him to help her on with it. He puffed out his chest as Angie gave him a sweet smile; she thanked him, then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
**
Angie disappeared from view into the foggy evening, relishing the warmth of the sensuous sable. Happily contemplating the small fortune in jewels it had been in contact with earlier that evening, and also the small fortune she had walked out of the reception with in her possession.
**
The guard watched the spot for some time where the pretty lady in the expensive fur had vanished in the mists. He fantasized for a good few minutes, wondered what had been behind the enchantingly secret smile she had given to him.
Excuse me, sir?, a female voice coming from the garden startles him, he had never heard anyone coming.
He turns, catching an eyeful of a long glamourous, brown satin gown, worn fetchingly by a willowy short haired pretty young thing. Diamonds blazed from around her throat, caught by the gas lights, and from around her white satin gloved wrists as she raised her hands in a pleading fashion.
She continues, pointing to a young girl in a smashing blue satin gown, bending over looking for something in the bushes. My sister lost her necklace and pendent while playing around here earlier, did you or anyone find it? She asked in a rather seductive tone of voice9 not a common, it was her regular voice)
No lady, no one turned in a necklace. Thank you sir, and she turns away, her gown flowing out behind her.
He watches for a minute as she and her sister both move elegantly down the path, continuing their search.
He sighed, and turns away, babysitting rich dames he mutters under his breath, what a dismal way to make a living. Why won’t this affair ever end he asked himself, as he reached for his silver pocket watch to check the time. Damnations he said, not finding it nor its chain and fob, must have dropped it in the alley earlier where I had gone for a nipper from his flask. He sauntered off quickly to the alley located in the direction Angie had disappeared, abandoning his post.
Soon after, a pair of dark figures who had been walking on the opposite side of the street, and had stopped to loiter when they spied the guard talking to some posh broad in a shiny brown dress, saw the guard leaving his post. They quickly stole with sinister intent across the road and entered into the gardens, disappearing into the darkness.
*********************************************************************************
This ended up being Angie’s first big score, She got more for the rhinestone set then she had imagined, the small brooch taken off the brown satin sash had proved to have real diamonds in its center! Also the princess in silky sky blue’s pendent and chain had fetched a nice tidy sum. The jewels lifted from the ladies in Green and Silver also realized quite a handsome profit, as did the sable and purse.
if one includes the real diamond ring slipped off the finger of a silky dressed debutante from the prom show and her rather nice haul of a slim pearl necklace and diamond pin from the Opera, the whole weekend was unimaginably successful.
**
From the profit realized, she had been able to spend a pleasant month away in Monte Carlo, even indulging in the purchase of a rich red wine coloured taffeta gown to wear.
Which she pleasantly found that, when paired with her deftly acquired collection of dripping rhinestone diamond jewelry, she attracted wealthy young males with expensive gold watches and fat wallets like honey bee drones to a bright moss rose.
**
She also enticed a long raven haired, Miss, richly clad in emerald silk, to enter into her snare.
But Angie did not make an entirely clean get away. For the last jewel to be taken was the girl’s brooch , and before Angie could hide it with the rest, the girl spotted its’ glitter in Angie’s hand, and with a gasp had looked down on her dress at the now vacant spot where it had been dangling ever so provocatively for Angie all evening.. Angie smiled at the girl as she had looked up in confusion. The girl had placed a hand to her throat, startled when feeling it bare of her necklace. She looked at Angie in hurt confusion, her eyes wide with fright. Angie placed a finger to the girl’s lips, hushing any fuss she may have been thinking of making over her missing jewelry, and turning her back to the forlorn miss, Angie left, not looking back….
**
But that was a story for another day, so we were promised by Angie, giving us an all too familiar look of devious satisfaction at making us wait.
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Editor’s Notes:
Our Thanks to Mr. J. Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide
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Canon A-1, Canon 80-200mm ~100mm, Kodak Ultramax 400 ASA.
The shot is the entrance to the psychology building at the University of Tasmania. As I was walking past, this part of the word caught my eye.
It's time for some more of The Shop's unusual vector assets : the geometrical psychology diagrams. These were originally created as an attempt to "mathematically model human consciousness through geometric forms" in the late 1880s.
There are two main groups of assets: the first one, with mainly two dimensional diagrams, and second one, of more than two dimensions, that resemble flowers and crystals. I also added some random nuggets from the rest of the collection. The diagrams have that beautiful execution of late Victorian era scientific illustration, while also presenting an undeniable organic touch. The "three dimensional" group of assets also feature shading, and color highlights.
There are forty-five (45) assets altogether, carefully digitized, organized, and share in a variety of formats, with care. I would recommend using them as background elements, color scheme inspirations, or of course as the centerpiece of the project you're working on.
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- Forty-five (45) diagrams
- Available in multiple vector and raster formats for wider compatibility range: Adobe Illustrator (CC, CS6, CS3), PDF, EPS, and PNG
- 641.60 MB archive size
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Like the textures you're seeing in the previews? They come from my Photocopy noise textures vol. 02. You must go check them out: https://crmrkt.com/13paPz
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Curious about the beautiful, aged serif typeface I used for the previews? It's Appareo, created by Kimmy Design. You can find it on Creative Market, and you ought to check it out as well: https://crmrkt.com/7QWK1X
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You should add your name to the Shop's mailing list at https://mailchi.mp/de8bed089b59/theshop. On the menu: new release sneak peeks, deals information, and other general updates from the factory floor. No spam, guaranteed.
Today's challenge in the Our Daily Challenge group is "Using your head". You might say I did that... at least it felt like it trying to come up with something. LOL!