View allAll Photos Tagged Pulsating
One of the most spectacular shows in nature is definately Northern lights. The whole atmosphere having pulsating lights fill up the sky is just phenomenal. Im totally addicted to northern lights. Can't wait for the next season.
Here's one from last season. We had a full corona lighting up the sky, which was spectacular.
Sigma Scorpii + LBN 1104
Credit: Giuseppe Donatiello
Sigma Scorpii is a double-lined spectroscopic binary system consisting of two B-type stars residing in an eccentric orbit. The more massive primary component is a Beta Cep-type pulsating variable star.
The disentangled spectra reveals two stars of similar spectral type and atmospheric chemical composition. Combined with the orbital inclination angle estimate found in the literature, the orbital elements allow a mass estimate of 14.7 +/- 4.5 and 9.5 +/- 2.9 solar mass for the primary and secondary component, respectively (A. Tkachenko et al. 2014)
In the meadow adjacent to my garden last night I noticed a cloud of quick grey motion, a presence in the forefront, then rapid withdrawal. A dazzling cloud, swirling, pulsating, drawing together to the thinnest of waists, then wildly twisting in pulses of enlargement and diminution, a fluid choreography of funnels, ribbons, and hourglasses, spills and mixing, ever in motion. Dense in one moment, diffuse in the next.
How beautiful! How unlikely!
I grabbed my camera and examined the situation more intently, to make sense of it, to make sense of them. For they are birds—hundreds of them. No, thousands, and in exquisite coordination, as if orchestrated, as if ordered by an unseen, absurdly creative hand. They are starlings! I stood for ages watching their choreography until they finally flew off together for the night. How wonderful is nature.....
A Jellyfish. Picture was taken at the National Aquarium in Baltimore.
******
Jellyfish or jellies are the major non-polyp form of individuals of the phylum Cnidaria. They are typified as free-swimming marine animals consisting of a gelatinous umbrella-shaped bell and trailing tentacles. The bell can pulsate for locomotion, while stinging tentacles can be used to capture prey.
Jellyfish are found in every ocean, from the surface to the deep sea. A few jellyfish inhabit freshwater. Large, often colorful, jellyfish are common in coastal zones worldwide. Jellyfish have roamed the seas for at least 500 million years,[1] and possibly 700 million years or more, making them the oldest multi-organ animal (Wikipedia).
Looks pretty tough doesn't it? Lovely warm pulsating bed. She loved it to death. I have some more shots but am having trouble uploading them.
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
Attention, Earthlings!
Join us on June 1st, Saturday, at 12:00 PM SLT+, as we embark on an interstellar odyssey for a cosmic rave!
Our stellar lineup of DJs will guide us through the cosmos:
12:00 PM - 1:30 PM SLT+: DJ Muse
1:30 PM - 3:00 PM SLT+: DJ Drugan
3:00 PM - 4:30 PM SLT+: DJ Seven
Prepare to transcend the confines of time and space with pulsating rhythms and ethereal melodies into the depths of the unknown! Remember, dress code is space chic - think metallics, neon, and futuristic flair.
We shall traverse the cosmos and dance among the constellations,
SONANCE Team
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
Poem.
Golden Cherry,
Yellow Larch.
Orange Birch.
Bronze Ferns.
Upright, bottle-green Spruce.
Stately, cone-laden, Scots Pine.
Bushes of Gorse and Broom.
Rock-faces.
Hills.
Mosses.
Algae.
Fungi.
And a mist “melting” into an Autumnal sky.
Forests can be sterile,
too uniform.
Not here.
A lavish, richly painted canvas.
Atmospheric.
With an ambience of pulsating,
multi-coloured, vibrant life.
Der historische Ortskern erstreckt sich um den normannischen Dom, der zugleich die bedeutendste Sehenswürdigkeit der Stadt ist. Die Kathedrale Santissimo Salvatore liegt an der Piazza Duomo, um die tagsüber und nachts das Leben pulsiert. Die Piazza ist nämlich ein beliebter Treffpunkt für Jung und Alt, wo man sich in einem Restaurant oder Café hinsetzten und sizilianisches Ambiente schlicht genießen kann. In den schmalen Gassen abseits des Platzes sind auch ganz lauschige und ruhige Ecken zu finden.
Der Strand von Cefalu ist einer der schönsten auf Sizilien.
The historic center of the town is centered around the Norman Cathedral, which is also the most important landmark of the town. The Cathedral of Santissimo Salvatore is located in Piazza Duomo, around which life pulsates during the day and at night. In fact, the piazza is a popular meeting place for young and old, where you can sit down in a restaurant or café and simply enjoy Sicilian ambience. In the narrow streets away from the square you can also find quite secluded and quiet corners.
The beach of Cefalu is one of the most beautiful in Sicily.
Der historische Ortskern erstreckt sich um den normannischen Dom, der zugleich die bedeutendste Sehenswürdigkeit der Stadt ist. Die Kathedrale Santissimo Salvatore liegt an der Piazza Duomo, um die tagsüber und nachts das Leben pulsiert. Die Piazza ist nämlich ein beliebter Treffpunkt für Jung und Alt, wo man sich in einem Restaurant oder Café hinsetzten und sizilianisches Ambiente schlicht genießen kann. In den schmalen Gassen abseits des Platzes sind auch ganz lauschige und ruhige Ecken zu finden.
Der Strand von Cefalu ist einer der schönsten auf Sizilien.
The historic center of the town is centered around the Norman Cathedral, which is also the most important landmark of the town. The Cathedral of Santissimo Salvatore is located in Piazza Duomo, around which life pulsates during the day and at night. In fact, the piazza is a popular meeting place for young and old, where you can sit down in a restaurant or café and simply enjoy Sicilian ambience. In the narrow streets away from the square you can also find quite secluded and quiet corners.
The beach of Cefalu is one of the most beautiful in Sicily.
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly
to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle
to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace,
serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it
and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
The bustling old quarter pulsates and vibrates - but sometimes, you can find a moment alone. Before it all starts again.
The old quarter in Hanoi is a museum come to life. You can stand at the same place for hours watching it change over and over or go with the flow and become a part of it.
Check out the whole set - Overwhelming Vietnam.
Hanoi, Vietnam
2008
Hiding Within
Pulsates a Beating Heart
In Everlasting Nights
I Dream of You ...
My Oasis Doll: Linglan cosplay project.
Jellyfish and comb jellies are gelatinous animals that drift through the ocean's water column around the world. They are both beautiful—the jellyfish with their pulsating bells and long, trailing tentacles, and the comb jellies with their paddling combs generating rainbow-like colors. Yet though they look similar in some ways, jellyfish and comb jellies are not very close relatives (being in different phyla—Cnidaria and Ctenophora, respectively) and have very different life histories.
Both groups are ancient animals, having roamed the seas for at least 500 million years. And, in the modern age, they are having similar effects on ecosystems. As seawater temperature rises, predators of jellies are removed by fishing, more structures are built in seawater, and more nutrients flow into the ocean, some types of jellyfish and comb jellies may be finding it easier to grow and survive. Whatever the reason, huge explosions in jelly numbers (a jelly bloom) can disrupt fisheries, make for unpleasant swimming, or foul up the works of power plants that use seawater for cooling. Invasive jellies have also wreaked havoc in some parts of the world.
What you need to know about the northern lights is that they vary in intensity, not just from night to night but second by second. Some displays may be dim, like a faint glow and other nights like this, the lights move and pulsate through the sky like a serpent, so bright that the ground and faces of your accomplices glow green. I had the pleasure of leading one of my Iceland tours during this solar storm, which lasted through the entire night. Shouts of joy echoed off the nearby cliffs with every burst of energy from the green blasts, which rippled from one horizon to the other. Yes, they really are spectacular to the naked eye.
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
"Run away, run away, run away
Run away, run away, run away
Just one second, and I was left with nothing
Her fragrance still pulsating through damp air
That day came to an end
And she had lost in me her credence"
Long time retired, I suppose, and not looking very dangerous, I know. this unlikely sea steed caught my attention
while walking along the river. Not that it is the only example of 'boat-fauna': I managed to spot owls, pelicans
and even pigs. Probably I love the 'out of context' feeling it emanates from the horsie, the vain attempt your
brain does to locate a carousel.
The quality of the shot is far from good, and that was the reason why I was refraining to post it. But then I
realized that my photostream is not exactly pulsating with masterpieces, so that a technically poor photo carrying
a good memory cannot do much harm :)
BEYOND Exploration Team 2Y-77
Log of Romal Newinn
Entry 023
----------------------------------------
"....after touchdown. We soon began exploring the region's more Earth-like areas. Large rocky planes were all around us, spanning miles and miles outward, only to be met by even larger mountains. The ground was rocky at parts and smooth at others, almost feeling like the density of mud or clay. These strange green reeds had sprouted out of the earth as well. How they had grown there was beyond me! I could see know roots or sources of water, so the wet soil must have been the only thing keeping it growing. They seemed to pulsate with green light as well. I'm not any sort of believer in magical thinking, but these ferns were something out of the ordinary.
As we reached a patch of lighter colored dirt, Tom and Laena stopped ahead of me. Tom Marshall had that huge stick of technology waving around in the air while Laena Clove had her little machine in hand. They were scanning for atmospheric properties like oxygen, nitrogen, and others of the sort. It had been a three mile walk with four or five different stopping points, each one added to the chart of readings. If only our technology was better suited for the mission."
----------------------------------------
Garden Goddess
As the pulsating beat of the runway music fills the air, Ivanna emerges, her presence commanding attention. Adorned in a flowing gown reminiscent of verdant meadows and blooming flowers, she embodies The Garden Goddess with ethereal grace. With each step, she exudes confidence, her eyes sparkling with determination and creativity. Ivanna chose to be The Garden Goddess for the show because she believes in the power of nature's beauty to inspire and uplift. For her, embodying this archetype is a celebration of life, growth, and the boundless creativity found within the natural world. She sees herself as a conduit, channeling the vibrant energy of the earth and transforming it into a mesmerizing spectacle on the runway, a testament to the enduring allure of nature's splendor.
Ivanna's ensemble is a masterful symphony of nature's finest elements, seamlessly orchestrated by the collaboration of Fantasy Forrest Store and Yumi's Cutesie. The body suit from Fantasy Forrest Store serves as the canvas upon which the enchanting forest theme unfolds. Crafted with precision and care, it contours to Ivanna's silhouette, acting as the perfect backdrop for the floral wonders to bloom. Each delicate flower piece from Yumi's Cutesie is a stroke of brilliance, adorning the body suit with a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. From the whimsical daisies dancing along the neckline to the intricate roses trailing down the sleeves, every blossom contributes to the overall tapestry of the forest theme. Together, they evoke a sense of natural splendor and whimsy, transforming Ivanna into a living embodiment of the enchanted forest, where beauty and magic intertwine in perfect harmony.
As Ivanna embodying the Garden Goddess for all to see, a rush of euphoria floods her senses. With each gaze upon her ethereal form, she feels an exhilarating sense of empowerment and liberation. It's not just about the attention or the admiration; it's about embracing her true essence and sharing it with the world. Ivanna revels in the opportunity to showcase her connection to nature and her inner strength, knowing that in this moment, she is embodying something timeless and profound. Being the Garden Goddess fills her with a profound sense of purpose and joy, as she embraces the role with grace and confidence, knowing that she is radiating beauty and inspiration to all who behold her.
========================
Outfit: Fantasy Forrest Store Secret Garden ( Includes Body suit, Flowers, and Back piece)
Boots: Neutral Tones Boots Bark
Nails: Pure Poison Dhalia Nails
Jewelry: Necklace: Bauhaus Movement- April Necklace Pink
Head piece: {Acios} Gaia Crown - Flower Dream-
Arm Pieces" Yumi's Cutesies Arm Bands Pink/Purple
Leg Pieces: Yumi's Cutesies Leg Bands Pink/Purple
Ears: :Andore:- Mesh Ears Elf Wild Flowers
Make up: Hexed Flower Eyeshadow
Other Accessories: Zibska- Clementia
Daisy Arm Vines
evil. Sprouts on Your Head
[Vaak] Animesh Humming Birds
If you see this facial image of Malcolm Young, you are now in AC/DC Lane. AC/DC heavy metal rock band was formed by brothers Malcolm and Angus Young in Sydney in 1973.
From 6 March 2018, at the opposite end of the lane a sculpture of Bon Scott is mounted high on the wall to add interest to this infamous AC/DC lane. This is a rocker's place where you will end soaking up in the "rocking" atmosphere of the Cherry Bar.
Wikipedia: "Malcolm Mitchell Young (6 January 1953 – 18 November 2017) was an Australian musician and songwriter, best known as a co-founder, rhythm guitarist, backing vocalist and songwriter for the hard rock band AC/DC.
Ronald Belford "Bon" Scott (9 July 1946 – 19 February 1980) was an Australian singer and songwriter, best known for being the primary lead vocalist and lyricist of the Australian hard rock band AC/DC from 1974 until his death in 1980."
Melbournepoint.com.au: "ACDC Lane is one of the city’s most popular streets in Melbourne, and it spans from Russell Street to Exhibition Street in the CBD. Previously known as Corporation Lane, it has since been named ACDC Lane in honour of the iconic Australian rock band, AC/DC.
One of the key attractions on the lane is a pulsating rock ‘n’ roll club called Cherry Bar. As expected, the bar is home to many rock concerts and performing artists with heaps of live music scheduled each week."
Full blog post and video: bit.ly/2fJVBkQ
During my years in the field, I had recorded numerous instances of micro-movements in spider abdomens. While most are just really tiny unnoticeable movements on the spider's heart line, one particular spider stood out with swirling or pulsating movements in the abdomen and visible with the naked eye. The amount of detail revealed got more fascinating as I got closer, showing a mostly transparent but patterned membrane over what appeared to be the spider's internal organs at work.
Read more and watch the video here:
sgmacro.blogspot.com/2016/11/mystery-of-pulsating-spider....
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
Thank you very much my dear flickr friends for your wonderful and kind comments, invitations and awards. I appreciate them a lot. Wishing you a very happy and positive Wedneday and rest of the week. : )) xo
______________________________________________________________________________
Re: Photo
I love the way each seed of this dandelion seems to be glowing with warmth and light - pulsating like tiny little heartbeats ready to take off into the air and spread warmth, love, new beginnings and life all across the land.
Glady's Knight and the Pips - Every beat of my heart
Lyrics
In every beat of my heart,
There's a beat for you
In every toast of wine
There's a toast for you........
This is a 360° panorama from left (southeast) to right (northeast) and extending from the horizon to the zenith, taking in the entire sky during an outburst of a particularly colourful aurora on September 16, 2024. This was from home in southern Alberta.
The numbers were indicating a Kp index of 8 this night, though the peak was earlier in the evening before it got dark at my location. The aurora was well underway in the darkening twilight, but underwent a major outburst at about 9:20 pm MDT when I shot this panorama.
The brightest part of the display captured here lasted only a few minutes before the show settled down into fainter pulsating patches and curtains.
But for a few minutes the curtains converged to the magnetic zenith at top left to produce a coronal outburst that was bright to the eye, and pinkish-white here. The outburst was notable for its strong pinks over much of the sky, likely from nitrogen molecules glowing, indicative of a very energetic rain of electrons. Also present are the more usual yellow-greens from oxygen, and briefly at left some strong oxygen reds. The bright object at left is the almost Full Moon. Arcing across the south left of centre is a diffuse blue-green band, which might be a proton aurora with hydrogen-beta emission. The sky is blue from moonlight.
At left of centre at top are the Summer Triangle stars, with Deneb (left) and Vega (right) strongly distorted by the geometric projecton which stretches out the zenith content. At right is the Big Dipper, Polaris and Cassiopeia. North is at right toward Polaris. The Moon is in the southeast. Saturn sits just left of the Moon. Later this night at about 5 am (on Sept. 17) the Moon occulted Saturn as they were going down in the southwest.
The light at lower centre is another camera shooting a time-lapse.
Technical:
This is a panorama of 12 segments (at 30° spacing for generous overlap), shot in quick succession, each 4 seconds long with the Venus Optics Laowa 15mm lens at f/2 and the Canon R5 at only ISO 400, with the camera in portrait orientation. Developed in Camera Raw and stitched in PTGui. The aurora was changing rapidly, so the zenith area in particular at top is a blend of various segments' content to create a smooth transition without abrupt seams. So the panorama does not represent what the aurora looked like at one instant in time, but is a blend of images taken over about a minute.
The original is 21,000 by 5,400 pixels
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
Conscious Field.
Evangelische Klarheit Kokons Berechnungen intensiven Farben unwiderstehlich pastosen Eifer,
спонтанные бесконечные цвета яростные romancers борьба аварии лирическая кисти спокойные мысли блюз,
απρόβλεπτες ταχύτητες υπολογισμού αυτοσχεδιασμούς εξισορρόπησης τόνους κλίμακες προέκυψε διαλεκτική δυσφημιστεί όνειρα,
koto musica bruciando fiori gialli maestrale complementarietà anticipazione tremante consapevole esigenza cavalletto,
szédítő hagymás lombozat élénk elvarázsolt hegyvidéki harmonikus ornamentations narancssárga ernyővel finom színárnyalatok magasztos,
fantastique escarpements violacé présente les faits saillants de lavande anciens traits courbes denses Quadrant dispersés ciel céleste,
solas glittering inextinguishable specks swirling limitless bhfaca whirlpools Violet fíor firmament pulsating físeanna Scairt,
vervreemdende kosmische vervoering verergerd emotionele epileptische beroeringen aanvallende impulsiviteit aanvallen neuronen euforie,
異常な爆発の日誤っ明るくカスケードは、心の残り火は写真不変の疑問拷問脳に目まいと思った.
Steve.D.Hammond.
All got a bit weird and over-worked today, didn't help that the wall was cold and wet so nothing dried and it quickly turned into a pulsating mush of gloss, mulsh, spray paint, rain water and dirt.
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
Der historische Ortskern erstreckt sich um den normannischen Dom, der zugleich die bedeutendste Sehenswürdigkeit der Stadt ist. Die Kathedrale Santissimo Salvatore liegt an der Piazza Duomo, um die tagsüber und nachts das Leben pulsiert. Die Piazza ist nämlich ein beliebter Treffpunkt für Jung und Alt, wo man sich in einem Restaurant oder Café hinsetzten und sizilianisches Ambiente schlicht genießen kann. In den schmalen Gassen abseits des Platzes sind auch ganz lauschige und ruhige Ecken zu finden.
Der Strand von Cefalu ist einer der schönsten auf Sizilien.
The historic center of the town is centered around the Norman Cathedral, which is also the most important landmark of the town. The Cathedral of Santissimo Salvatore is located in Piazza Duomo, around which life pulsates during the day and at night. In fact, the piazza is a popular meeting place for young and old, where you can sit down in a restaurant or café and simply enjoy Sicilian ambience. In the narrow streets away from the square you can also find quite secluded and quiet corners.
The beach of Cefalu is one of the most beautiful in Sicily.
Poem.
A silhouetted, rapier-like peninsula piercing the radiant splendour of a pewter-grey sea.
Domed islands capped by the heavenly spokes of a setting-sun.
Timeless beauty.
Silence, but for the distant scream of a gull and the gentle, pulsating whistle of an oyster-catcher.
Sky, rock, sand, light and sea uniquely combine
to produce a glimpse inside heaven’s door.
Don’t yearn for heaven.
Look around.
It’s already here!
I can not fully remember the reason these two DC-10's came to Luton, I suspect it was football match fans. Luckily they sent two different schemes......
Ah maybe this
Arsenal 0-0 Galatasaray
Galatasaray win 4-1 on penalties
Galatasaray have won the Uefa Cup final after beating Arsenal on penalties in a pulsating game of missed chances.
Therefore the DC-10's would have been taking Arsenal fans to Copenhagen for the game.
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Boracay is a tropical island about an hour's flight from Manila in the Philippines. Its long white sand beaches rival the best beaches of more popular destinations such as the Caribbean, the South Pacific as well as neighbouring Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia.
Facilities are available to suit different levels of activity. For those wanting to just lounge around and take in some rays, beach-front hotels usually have lounge chairs set up just a few steps away from the hotel entrances.
Facilities for the usual water sports activities such as sailing, wind surfing, snorkeling, diving and jet skiing are also widely available for those in search of more active pursuits. The fun in Boracay also doesn't end when the sun sets. Boracay nightlife is pulsating with many bars and restaurants serving food, drink and fun until the very late evening.
The last time ESA astronaut Andreas Mogensen saw a Soyuz, he and his fellow crewmembers were making their fiery reentry to Earth in the reliable spacecraft, landing in the Kazakh steppe in the early hours of the morning on 12 September 2015.
Today, nearly three years later Andreas reunites with the Soyuz TMA-18M capsule that launched him to space at the Danish Museum of Science and Technology in Copenhagen.
Andreas became Denmark’s first astronaut when he embarked on the intense 10-day ‘iriss’ mission to the International Space Station in 2015.
The Danish Museum of Science and Technology has acquired the Soyuz capsule and is unveiling it as part of the
new exhibition ‘To Space and Back’ opening today.
Andreas spent 10 busy days in space testing new technologies and conducting scientific experiments for ESA. It was during ‘iriss’ that Andreas tested the time-saving hardware called mobiPV or Mobile Procedure Viewer.
One of the highlights during Andreas’ mission were the images of thunderstorms from space. He managed to record many kilometre-wide blue flashes around 18 km altitude, including a pulsating blue jet reaching 40 km. A video recorded by Andreas as he flew over the Bay of Bengal at 28 800 km/h on the Station shows the electrical phenomena clearly – a first of its kind.
The photographs and video were evidence of the scientific importance of studying hard-to-observe thunderstorms and other electrical activity in the upper atmosphere from space. It also confirmed the Space Station as a great vantage point 400 km above the clouds.
Now, the Atmosphere-Space Interactions Monitor or ASIM is picking up where Andreas left off. Launched in April this year, ASIM is a collection of optical cameras, light meters and an X- and gamma-ray detector that will measure and document electrical activity in the upper atmosphere.
Science and technology aside, you never forget your ride in a Soyuz, and Andreas is happy to be reunited with it. “It is the first time after my return from the International Space Station that I am able to see the capsule again, something that I have been looking forward to,” said Andreas.
The capsule was unveiled in a ceremony including Danish Prince Joakim and other dignitaries and is on display for all visitors. “A museum like this is what inspires our children and younger generations to pursue a career in science and technology,” Andreas said.
That’s worth the fiery ride alone.
Andreas will be back in Denmark for the opening of the Moon exhibition at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in September.
Credits: ESA
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however, we are at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand*, near Covent Garden and the theatre district of London’s West End. Here, amidst the thoroughly English surrounds of wooden panelling, beautifully executed watercolours of British landscapes and floral arrangements in muted colours, men in white waistcoats and women a-glitter with jewels are ushered into the dining room where they are seated in high backed chairs around tables dressed in crisp white tablecloths and set with sparkling silver and gilt china. The large room is very heavily populated with theatre patrons enjoying a meal before a show and therefore it is full of vociferous conversation, boisterous laughter, the clink of glasses and the scrape of cutlery against crockery as the diners enjoy the traditional English repast that Simpson’s is famous for. Seated at a table for two along the periphery of the main dining room, Lettice and Selwyn are served their roast beef dinner by a carver. Lettice is being taken to dinner by Selwyn to celebrate the successful completion of his very first architectural commission: a modest house built in the northern London suburb of Highgate built for a merchant and his wife. Lettice has her own reason to celebrate too, but has yet to elaborate upon it with Selwyn.
“I do so like Simpson’s.” Lettice remarks as the carver places a plate of steaming roast beef and vegetables in front of her. Glancing around her, she admires the two watercolours on the wall behind her and the jolly arrangement of yellow asters and purple and yellow pansies on the small console to her right.
“I’m glad you approve.” Selwyn laughs, smiling at his companion.
“I’m always put in mind of Mr. Wilcox whenever it’s mentioned, or I come here.”
“Who is Mr. Wilcox?” Selwyn asks, his handsome features showing the signs of deep thought.
“Oh,” Lettice laughs and flaps her hand, the jewels on her fingers winking gaily in the light. “No-one. Well, no one real, that is.” she clarifies. “Mr. Wilcox is a character in E. M. Forster’s novel, ‘Howard’s End’**, who thoroughly approves of Simpson’s because it is so thoroughly English and respectable, just like him.”
“I can’t say I’ve read that novel, or anything by him.” Selwyn admits as the carver places his serving of roast beef and vegetables before him. “My head has been too buried in books on architecture.” Selwyn reaches into the breast pocket of his white dinner vest and takes out a few coins which he slips discreetly to the man in the crisp white uniform and chef’s hat.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the carver says, tapping the brim of his hat in deference to the Duke of Walmsford’s son before placing the roast beef, selection of vegetables in tureens and gravy onto the crisp white linen tabletop, and then wheeling his carving trolley away.
Lettice giggles as she picks up the gravy boat and pours steaming thick and rich dark reddish brown gravy over her dinner.
“Well, what’s so funny, my Angel?” Selwyn asks with a querying look as he accepts the gravy boat from Lettice’s outstretched hands and pours some on his own meal.
“Oh you are just like Mr. Wilcox.”
“You know,” He picks up his silver cutlery. “And please pardon me for saying this, but I didn’t take you for reading much more than romance novels.”
“Oh!” Lettice laughs in mild outrage. “Thank you very much, Selwyn!”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Selwyn defends himself, dropping his knife and fork with a clatter onto the fluted gilt edged white dinner plate.
“Then what do you mean?” Lettice asks, trying to remain serious as she looks into the worried face of her dinner companion, which makes her want to reach out and stroke his cheek affectionately and smile.
“I… I merely meant that most ladies of your background have had very little education, or inclination to want to read anything more than romance novels.”
“Well,” Lettice admits. “I must confess that I do quite enjoy romance novels, and I wouldn’t be as well read if it weren’t for Margot.”
“Aha!” Selwyn laughs, popping some carrots smeared in gravy into his mouth.
“But,” Lettice quickly adds in her defence. “I’ll have you know that my father is a great believer in the education of ladies, and so was my grandfather, and I applied myself when I studied, and I enjoyed it.”
“It shows my Angel,” Selwyn assures her. “You are far more interesting than any other lady I’ve met in polite society, most of whom haven’t an original thought in their heads.”
“I take after my Aunt Egg, who learned Greek amongst other languages, which served her well when she decided to go there to study ancient art. Although Mater insisted that I not go to a girl’s school, so I would not become a bluestocking*** and thereby spoil my marriage prospects by demonstrating…”
“That’s what I was implying,” Selwyn interrupts in desperate defence of his incorrect assumptions about Lettice. “Most girls I have met either feign a lack of intelligence, or more often genuinely are dim witted. Admittedly, it’s not really their fault. With mothers like yours, who believe that the only position for a girl of good breeding is that of marriage, they seldom get educated well, and their brains sit idle.”
“Well, I have a brain, and I know how to use it. Pater and Aunt Egg drummed into me the importance of intelligence as well as good manners and looks in women of society.”
“Well, there are a great many ladies whom I have met who could take a leaf out of your book. I know you have a mind of your own, my Angel,” Selwyn purrs. “And that’s one of the many attributes about you that I like. Having a conversation with you about art, or my passion of architecture, is so refreshing in comparison to speaking about floral arrangements or the weather, as I shall soon have to when I start escorting my cousin Pamela for the London Season.”
Lettice cannot help but shudder silently at the mention of Selwyn’s cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers, for she is immediately reminded of what Sir John Nettleford-Hughes said to her at the society wedding of her friend Priscilla Kitson-Fahey to American Georgie Carter in November. He pointed out to her that Selwyn’s mother, Lady Zinnia, plans to match Selwyn and Pamela. From his point of view, it was already a fait accompli.
“I like my cousin,” Selwyn carries on, not noticing the bristle pulsating through Lettice. “But like so many of the other debutantes of 1923, she is lacking interests beyond the marriage market and social gossip and intrigues. You, on the other hand, my Angel, are well informed, and have your own opinions.”
“Well, you can thank Pater for instilling that in me. He hired some very intelligent governesses to school my sister and I in far more than embroidery, floral arranging and polite conversation.”
“And I’m jolly glad of it, my darling.”
“And Aunt Egg told me that I should never be afraid to express my opinion, however different, so long as it is artfully couched.”
“I like the sound of your Aunt Egg.”
“I don’t think your mother would approve of her, nor of me having a brain, Selwyn. Would she? I’m sure she would prefer you to marry one of those twittering and decorous debutantes.” She tries her luck. “Like your cousin Pamela, perhaps?”
“Oh, come now, Lettice darling!” Selwyn replies. If she has thrown a bone, he isn’t taking it as he rests the heels of his hands on the edge of the white linen tablecloth, clutching his cutlery. He chews his mouthful of roast beef before continuing. “That isn’t fair, even to Zinnia. She’s a very intelligent woman herself, with quite a capacity for witty conversation about all manner of topics, and she reads voraciously on many subjects.”
“I was talking to Leslie about what his impressions of your mother were when I went down to Glynes**** for his wedding in November.”
“Were you now?” Selwyn’s eyebrows arch with surprise over his widening eyes.
“Yes,” Lettice smirks, taking a mouthful of roast potato drizzled in gravy which falls apart on her tongue. Chewing her food, she feels emboldened, and sighs contentedly as she wonders whether Sir John was just spitting sour grapes because she prefers Selwyn’s company rather than his. Finishing her mouthful she elucidates, “Leslie is a few years older than us, and of course, I only remember her as that angry woman in black who pulled you away after we’d played in the hedgerows.”
“Well, she obviously left a lasting impression on you!” Selwyn chortles.
“But it isn’t a fair one, is it?” she asks rhetorically. “So, I asked Leslie what he remembered of her from time they spent together in the drawing room whilst you and I were tucked up in bed in the nursery.”
“And what was Leslie’s impression of Zinnia?”
“That, as you say, she is a witty woman, and that she liked to hold men in her thrall with her beauty, wit and intelligence.”
“Well, he’s quite right about that.”
“But that she didn’t much like other ladies for company, especially intelligent ones who might draw the gentlemen’s attention away from her glittering orbit.”
Selwyn chews his mouthful of dinner and concentrates on his dinner plate with downcast, contemplative eyes. He swallows but remains silent for a moment longer as he mulls over his own thoughts.
After a few moments of silence, Lettice airs an unspoken thought that has been ruminating about her head ever since Selwyn mentioned her. “You know, I’d love to meet Zinnia.”
Selwyn chuckles but looks down darkly into his glass of red wine. “But you have met her, Lettice darling. You just said so yourself. She was that angry woman yelling at you as I was dragged from the hedgerows of your father’s estate.”
“I know, but that doesn’t count! We were children. No, I’ve heard of her certainly over the years, but now that I’ve become reacquainted with you as an adult, and now that we are being serious with one another.” She pauses. “We are being serious with one another, aren’t we Selwyn?”
“Of course we are, Lettice.” Selwyn replies, unable to keep his irritation at her question out of his voice. “You know we are.” Falling back into silence, he runs his tongue around the inside of his cheek as he retreats back into his own inner most thoughts.
“Then I’d so very much like to meet her. You have met my toadying mother. Why shouldn’t I meet yours?”
“Be careful what you wish for, my Angel.” he cautions.
“What do you mean, Selwyn darling?”
Selwyn doesn’t answer straight away. He absently fiddles with the silver salt shaker from the cruet set in front of him, rolling its bulbous form about in his palm, as if considering whether it will give him an answer of some kind.
“Selwyn?” Lettice asks, leaning over and putting a hand on her companion’s broad shoulder.
“Just that you may not like her when you meet her.” He shrugs. “That’s all. Toadying is certainly not a word I would associate with Zinnia on any given day, that’s for certain.”
“Or you might be implying she might not like me.” Lettice remarks downheartedly. “Is that it?”
Softening his tone, Selwyn assures her, “I like you, and I’m sure she will too. You will get to meet her soon enough, Lettice darling. I promise. But not yet.” He suddenly snaps out of his contemplations and starts to cut a piece off his roast beef, slicing into the juicy flesh with sharp jabs of his knife. “We have plenty of time for all that. Let’s just enjoy us for now, and be content with that.”
“Oh of course, Selwyn darling,” Lettice stammers. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean, now.”
“I know you didn’t may angel.” He sees the look of concern she is giving him as she stiffens and sits back in her straight backed chair, afraid that she has offended him. “I just like it being just us for now, without the complication of Zinnia.”
“Is she complicated?”
“More than you’ll ever know, my angel. Aren’t most mothers?”
“I suppose.”
“Anyway, enough about Zinnia! I don’t want this evening to be about Zinnia! I want it to be about us. So not another word about her. Alright?” When Lettice nods shallowly, he continues, “I’m here to celebrate the success of Mr. and Mrs. Musgrave of Highgate being happy with their newly completed home.”
“Oh yes! Your first architectural commission completed and received with great success!” Lettice enthuses. “Let’s raise a toast to that.” She picks up her glass of red wine, which gleams under the diffused light of the chandeliers in Simpson’s dining room. “Cheers to you Selwyn, and your ongoing success.”
Their glasses clink cheerily.
“And what of Bruton?”
“Oh, Gerald is doing very well!” Lettice assures Selwyn, returning her glass to the tabletop. “His couture business is really starting to flourish.”
“It’s a bit of rum business*****, a chap making frocks for ladies, isn’t it?” Selwyn screws up his nose in a mixture of a lack of comprehension and distaste.
“It’s what he’s good at,” Lettice tugs at the peacock blue ruched satin sleeve of her evening gown as proof, feeling proud to wear one of her friend’s designs. “And he’s hardly the first couturier who’s a man, is he, Selwyn Darling?”
“I suppose not. Zinnia does buy frocks from the house of Worth******, and he was a man.”
“Exactly.” Lettice soothes. “And who would know what suits a lady better than a man?”
“Yes, and I must say,” Selwyn says, looking his companion up and down appreciatively in her shimmering evening gown covered in matching peacock blue bugle beads. “You do look positively ravishing in his creation.”
“Thank you, Selwyn.” Lettice murmurs, her face flushing at the compliment.
“We never see him at the club any more. I think the last time I saw him was the night I met you at your parents’ Hunt Ball, and that was almost a year ago.”
“Oh well,” Lettice blusters awkwardly, thinking quickly as to what excuse she can give for her dearest friend. She knows how dire Gerald’s finances are, partially as a result of his father’s pecuniary restraints, and she suspects that this fact is likely the reason why Gerald doesn’t attend his club any longer, even if he is still a member. Even small outlays at his club could tilt him the wrong way financially. However she also knows that this is a fact not widely known, and it would embarrass him so much were it to become public knowledge, especially courtesy of her, his best friend. “Running a business, especially in its infancy like Gerald’s and mine, can take time, a great deal of time as a matter of fact.”
“But you have time, my Angel, to spend time with me.” He eyes her. “Are you covering for Bruton?”
Lettice’s face suddenly drains of colour at Selwyn’s question. “No… no, I.”
Lowering his voice again, Selwyn asks, “He hasn’t taken after his brother and found himself an unsuitable girl, has he?”
Lettice releases the breath she has held momentarily in her chest and sighs.
“I know Gerald wouldn’t go for a local publican’s daughter, like Roland did, but being artistic like he is, I could imagine him with a chorus girl, and I know if news of that ever got back to Old Man Bruton, there would be fireworks, and it would be a bloody******* time for Bruton. Poor chap!”
“No, no, Selwyn darling!” Lettice replies with genuine relief. “I can assure you,” And as she puts her hand to her thumping heart, she knows she speaks the truth. “Gerald hasn’t taken up with a chorus girl. He genuinely is busy with his couture business. Establishing oneself, as you know only too well, isn’t easy, even for a duke’s son, much less a lower member of the aristocracy without the social profile. And my business is ticking along quite nicely now, so I don’t need to put in as much effort as Gerald does.”
“But how selfish of me, my Angel!” Selwyn exclaims, putting his glass down abruptly and looking to his companion. “What a prig I’m being, aggrandising myself and bringing up Bruton, when you said that you had something to celebrate tonight too. What is it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like you’ve done, by finishing a house for someone.” Lettice says, flapping her hand dismissively.
“Well, what is it, Lettice darling?” Selwyn insists. “Tell me!”
Lettice looks down at her plate for a moment and then remarks rather offhandedly, “It was only that I had a telephone call from Henry Tipping******** the other day, and received confirmation that my interior for Dickie and Margot Channon’s Cornwall house ‘Chi an Treth’ will be featured in an upcoming edition of Country Life.”
“Oh may Angel!” Selwyn exclaims. “That’s wonderful!” He leans over and kisses her affectionately, albeit with the reserve that is expected between two unmarried people whilst dining in a public place, but with no less genuine delight for her. “That’s certainly more than nothing, and is something also worth celebrating!” I say, let’s raise a toast to you.” He picks up his glass of red wine again. “Cheers to you Lettice, and may the article bring you lots of recognition and new business.”
The pair clink glasses yet again and smile at one another.
*After a modest start in 1828 as a smoking room and soon afterwards as a coffee house, Simpson's-in-the-Strand achieved a dual fame, around 1850, for its traditional English food, particularly roast meats, and also as the most important venue in Britain for chess in the Nineteenth Century. Chess ceased to be a feature after Simpson's was bought by the Savoy Hotel group of companies at the end of the Nineteenth Century, but as a purveyor of traditional English food, Simpson's has remained a celebrated dining venue throughout the Twentieth Century and into the Twenty-First Century. P.G. Wodehouse called it "a restful temple of food"
**Howards End is a novel by E. M. Forster, first published in 1910, about social conventions, codes of conduct and relationships in turn-of-the-century England. Howards End is considered by many to be Forster's masterpiece. The book was conceived in June 1908 and worked on throughout the following year; it was completed in July 1910
***The term bluestocking was applied to any of a group of women who in mid Eighteenth Century England held “conversations” to which they invited men of letters and members of the aristocracy with literary interests. The word over the passing centuries has come to be applied derisively to a woman who affects literary or learned interests.
****Glynes is the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie.
*****Rum is a British slang word that means odd (in a negative way) or disreputable.
******Charles Frederick Worth was an English fashion designer who founded the House of Worth, one of the foremost fashion houses of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries. He is considered by many fashion historians to be the father of haute couture. Worth is also credited with revolutionising the business of fashion. Established in Paris in 1858, his fashion salon soon attracted European royalty, and where they led monied society followed. An innovative designer, he adapted 19th-century dress to make it more suited to everyday life, with some changes said to be at the request of his most prestigious client Empress Eugénie. He was the first to replace the fashion dolls with live models in order to promote his garments to clients, and to sew branded labels into his clothing; almost all clients visited his salon for a consultation and fitting – thereby turning the House of Worth into a society meeting point. By the end of his career, his fashion house employed 1,200 people and its impact on fashion taste was far-reaching.
*******The old fashioned British term “looking bloody” was a way of indicating how dour or serious a person or occasion looks.
********Henry Tipping (1855 – 1933) was a French-born British writer on country houses and gardens, garden designer in his own right, and Architectural Editor of the British periodical Country Life for seventeen years between 1907 and 1910 and 1916 and 1933. After his appointment to that position in 1907, he became recognised as one of the leading authorities on the history, architecture, furnishings and gardens of country houses in Britain. In 1927, he became a member of the first committee of the Gardens of England and Wales Scheme, later known as the National Gardens Scheme.
Comfortable, cosy and terribly English, the interior of Simpson’s-in-the-Strand may look real to you, but it is in fact made up of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including pieces from my childhood.
The dining table is correctly set for a four course Edwardian dinner partially ended, with the first course already concluded using cutlery, from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in the United Kingdom. The delicious looking roast dinner on the dinner plates, the bowls of vegetables, roast potatoes, boat of gravy and Yorkshire puddings and on the tabletop have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The red wine glasses bought them from a miniatures stockist on E-Bay. Each glass is hand blown using real glass. The silver cruet set in the middle of the table has been made with great attention to detail, and comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver meat cover you can just see in the background to the left of the photo also comes from Warwick Miniatures.
The table on which all these items stand is a Queen Anne lamp table which I was given for my seventh birthday. It is one of the very first miniature pieces of furniture I was ever given as a child. The Queen Anne dining chairs were all given to me as a Christmas present when I was around the same age.
The vase of flowers in the background I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
The wood panelling in the background is real, as I shot this scene on the wood panelled mantle of my drawing room. The paintings hanging from the wooden panels come from an online stockist on E-Bay.
A tribute to one of the greatest people of our era.
Originally posted as "Rise Up".
Let us rise up
Not to fight
But to love.
Not to ridicule
But to praise.
Not to destroy
But to reach out
To take a hand
And pull away from the past of darkness and persecution.
Let us be grand creators
Of tolerance and understanding
Of empathy and compassion
Let the fist open
And become a heart
And let that heart
Pump and pulsate and glow and shine and love
As one.
All photography, textured effects and groovy words by Hal Halli.
halhalli.com
twitter: @hal_halli
All Rights Reserved. © Hal Halli (2014)
Contact regarding usage permission.
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly
to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle
to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace,
serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it
and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
71.100
polaroid i2
polaroid itype film
black and white
expired 06/2022
| with the stars |
I am within
and of
the cycles of time
going in
coming out
growth is a ring
arcing out
and returning back
each turn
in the revolution
vibrating fuller
and grander
than the previous
until i am
pulsating with the stars
Starling (Sturnus vulgaris). During the winter months, the numbers of Starlings present within Britain and Ireland are swelled by the arrival of individuals from breeding populations located elsewhere within Europe. The numbers arriving vary from one winter to the next and are influenced by weather conditions on the Continent. Wintering Starlings roost communally and vast flocks may congregate at favoured sites, typically performing amazing aerobatic displays (known as ‘murmurations’) before dropping into the roost, which may be a reedbed, a group of conifers or a human structure, such as a pier. With many thousands of birds using a roost there is the potential for nuisance, their droppings fouling the ground beneath and around the chosen site.
These vast flocks have more humble beginnings, with small flocks of Starlings coming together as dusk approaches. Gradually, as more and more birds join the gathering, a huge pulsating flock is formed. As the light begins to fade so part of the flock will plunge down towards the chosen roost, almost as if testing its nerve to see who will be the first bird to drop into the roost itself. The birds have good reason to be nervous; these large gatherings attract the attentions of predators like Peregrine and Sparrowhawk. Photo by Nick Dobbs, Mudeford, Dorset 31-12-19