View allAll Photos Tagged Pulsating
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
.
Walked down the driveway with a
Nikon D300, Nikkor 70-300 VR.
Not sure just what they were doing
but maybe a mating dance ?
The blue colors were pulsating and
for the most part they kept bumping
and humping each other.
Seldom did they ever stop, this is one
of the rare moments they did ......... ;-)
Thank You.
Jon&Crew.
Please help with your donations here.
www.gofundme.com/saving-thai-temple-dogs.
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© All rights reserved.
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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
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
Point of View for this Image "Nyhavn" [?]
Nyhavn
Nyhavn is at one and the same time the most vibrant meeting place of present-day Copenhagen and an attraction of historical significance. In the olden days ships from around the world came alongside the quay and sailors, pubs, prostitutes and party left their mark on harbour life. The new harbour became Nyhavn and the old and crooked houses, which once housed merchants and brothels, were beautifully restored and are today crammed with cozy restaurants, which offer indoor and outdoor seating.
On the sunny side
Nyhavn has a certain Danish charm to it. The harbour was digged out by Swedish prisoners in the 17th century as one of the first extensions of the Copenhagen borders. Ever since then the artificial canal has provided the setting for a pulsating yet folksy city life. On the quay in Nyhavn you will often run into lively folk music or jazz performances and as soon as the sun shines every day in Nyhavn becomes a party. What's more, you can investigate the old, wooden vessels and the medieval architecture alongside the quay. All through summer an international crowd makes the sunny side of the old harbour buzz with high spirited singing and cheering and there is nothing like having a chilled draft beer while watching the crowds pass by. Nyhavn is also the starting point for the popular canal tour boats.
A NASA Hubble Space Telescope (HST) view of the magnificent spiral galaxy NGC 4603, the most distant galaxy in which a special class of pulsating stars called Cepheid variables have been found. It is associated with the Centaurus cluster, one of the most massive assemblages of galaxies in the nearby universe. The Local Group of galaxies, of which the Milky Way is a member, is moving in the direction of Centaurus at a speed of more than a million miles an hour under the influence of the gravitational pull of the matter in that direction. Clusters of young bright blue stars highlight the galaxy's spiral arms. In contrast, red giant stars in the process of dying are also found. Only the very brightest stars in NGC 4603 can be seen individually, even with the unmatched ability of the Hubble Space Telescope to obtain detailed images of distant objects. Much of the diffuse glow comes from fainter stars that cannot be individually distinguished by Hubble. The reddish filaments are regions where clouds of dust obscure blue light from the stars behind them. This galaxy was observed by a team affiliated with the HST Key Project on the Extragalactic Distance Scale. Because NGC 4603 is much farther away than the other galaxies studied with Hubble by the Key Project team, 108 million light-years, its stars appear very faint from the Earth, and so accurately measuring their brightness, as is required for distinguishing the characteristic variations of Cepheids, is extremely difficult. Determining the distance to the galaxy required an unprecedented statistical analysis based on extensive computer simulations.
Credit: NASA/Jeffrey Newman (UC Berkeley)
Image Number: PR1999-19
Date: May 1, 1999
The steam engine it did stand on its track,
The pulsating machine seem’d to be a living thing,
It seem’d to be a young, a young and unbridled steed
Who did bit the rails with his steel muscles
(cit. F. Guccini - The steam engine)
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
Robbie took in a deep breath and adjusted his goggles. The cold air formed a quick cloud as he exhaled and grinned once more looking at the bright sun above. The helicopter moved into position above the snow covered peak. "Finally" he thought. His coordinator made a final check to see if his GoPro camera was secure and tapped his shoulder and gave him the thumbs up. "Catch you on the flip side" said Robbie and he launched himself over the edge. He wasted no time shredding into the white slopes of Mt. Erling. As Robbie picked up speed, he looked for spots he could pull off a few tricks. He took a few chances to get some air under him and tried a spin or two but wasn't happy with the results so far. "I need more speed" he thought. His patience payed off and he saw what he'd been waiting for. It was a shelf that looked curved enough to give him a boost for his next decent. He angled in for a hard bite into the snow when the shelf unexpectedly gave way. Tumbling down, all he could see was the white of snow and the blue clear sky flashing all around. He landed with a 'thud' that winded him, but he seemed unharmed from the fall. He looked around to see high walls of snow and a sliver of the blue sky above, but no sign of the helicopter. Robbie had fallen into a ravine and had no idea where he was at. Checking on his camera, he removed his helmet to find it missing. Frustrated, he unstrapped his snow board and decided to try to find a better place to be seen. He hadn't walked far before he came to the edge of a cavern in the ravine. A strange blueish glow emanated from somewhere not far from the opening. Robbie decided to investigate the strange glow and cautiously made his way inside. A small crater of snow formed around a glowing blue rock that was slightly larger than a football. Robbie removed his helmet and knelled down to get a closer look. The pulsating meteorite got brighter as Robbie reached down for it. A wave of energy washed over Robbie, freezing him for a moment before releasing him with a jolt of adrenaline. A tingling sensation began from where he touched the stone and surged through his body as the light slowly faded and stopped altogether. He no longer noticed the cold temperature around him and looked down at his hand where the tingling could still be felt. Frost formed on his finger tips and it appeared as if snow were falling from his hands. He balled his hand into a fist and ice formed around it, but he felt none of the cold he had expected. Suddenly his fist vibrated at an astonishing speed and blurred before his eyes. A grin formed wide on Robbie's face and he looked to his fist again. "This is gonna be cool".
Built for the League of Lego Heroes
Spooky cute and rebated during the Once Upon a Nightmare-Hunt:
3 sets of ghosts
Linen: White, non scripted, 3 versions included
Disco: 3 versions of pulsating colourful glow
and a set of four pulsating glowing uni colours
All ghosties are modifiable (resize-, stretch- and tintable, the scripts are no mod))
LI ~1-2, depending on size
at the mainstore, 100 % original mesh
Light painting on the beach. Tweaked the colors in Photoshop afterwards. The darker orange light is the moon.
Exposure: 13 sec (13)
Aperture: f/5.6
Focal Length: 55 mm
© All Rights Reserved
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
The Northern Lights in a superb all-sky Kp6 to 7 display on August 11-12, 2024, here over 70 Mile Butte in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan, near Val Marie. This was also a peak night for the 2024 Perseid meteor shower, and one bright Perseid meteor shoots down the Milky Way in Cygnus at top, amid the converging rays of the aurora at the magnetic zenith.
This was one frame from a 730-frame rapid-cadence time-lapse, set for the aurora and its fast pulsating motion. Each exposure was only 2 seconds with a 1-second interval, so I was lucky to catch the meteor in its entirety on this frame.
This is a single exposure with the Venus Optics/Laowa 10mm Z lens wide open at f/2.8 on the Nikon Z6III at ISO 6400. Adobe DeNoise AI applied.
I don't know how else to say it: today we saw a dragon.
I'm just glad it didn't see us, because it was huge and probably a carnivore. Let me explain.
Djiimi and I were walking above the abyss on the narrow strip in single file while small clouds rolled in the wind around us, sometimes obscuring our trail. There were a few ferns here and there to point the way, but they were growing sparsely, and we would only find one every couple dozen yards or so. Besides these and whatever Djiimi disturbed this morning when she threw a stone into the abyss,we hadn't seen any signs of life here. It was eerie, but I was finally getting some peace and quiet to contemplate our situation. First there was Quane, who I was terrified we'd be too late to save. Djiimi has been stuck here longer and has some knowledge of the plants and animals; (which explains how she knew what plant to heal me with) she assured me that if Quane's captor was what she thought it was, it wouldn't touch her until it got to its lair, which definitely wasn't here. I still worried though. And then there was Djiimi. I didn't know what to think of her, she seemed to be on our side, but her story didn't add up. She had thanked nameum or something when I came to, and it sounded like some sort of deity. I remember vaguely that there was something called religion when I was small, but the Empress got rid of it when she came to power. Djiimi seemed younger than me, so how could she have gods? I'd also never seen any other mutants in the Empire, although there were myths and whispered stories of children born with extra limbs and eyes or red fur...
My train of thought was interrupted by a distant rumble from below us. Djiimi looked at me, and though her face was as expressionless than ever, there was fear in her eyes.
"We should get away from here," she said.
The rumbling noise sounded again, closer this time.
We started running.
It emanated from beneath us again, and this time I recognized it as a roar. We fell back and cowered as a giant purple shadow burst through the clouds, a scaly winged terror with wings twelve feet long and a horned face with a pair of wicked looking mandibles at the front. Two green slits stared out at us, but by some miracle it did not notice us as its lithe serpentine body arched over our little stretch of solid ground before plunging back into the infinite blackness on the other side. It roared again, a deep pulsating hiss that penetrated my bones and shook my soul. Then it was gone.
We are both terrified and on the alert as we continue on our way. My staff is gone now, it was knocked into the chasm when the dragon passed us. Now that I know what lurks in the depths below us I dare not return to my conjectures about Djiimi...
Well here's number fourteen, enjoy and PLEASE favor and comment, because that dragon taxed both my patience and the laws of physics! :D
In the neon-lit labyrinth of a cyberpunk world, Isabela and Elsie, the dynamic duo, take on the roles of futuristic combat androids. With sleek metallic armor reflecting the pulsating lights of the cityscape, they stand ready for action, their gaze piercing through the digital haze
Poem.
Beautiful Affric.
As if the Caledonian Forest breathes out, the mist slowly rises like a spirit rising to the ethereal heavens.
Just visible, the River Affric surges down the valley, two hundred feet below, just east of Dog Falls.
Life here is so abundant, from Golden Eagle to Wood Ants,
from Red Deer Stag to Pine-Marten.
In the dawn, a slow pulse of life gathers pace.
Life begins to pulsate, quietly but tangibly.
The carpet of life is mesmerising.
Stately, dignified Scots Pine sweep up and down these slopes for over thirty miles.
Early golden gorse contrasts with still burnished bracken.
“Lambs-tail” catkins quivering in the slightest breeze confirm that spring has arrived.
Delicate silver-birch branches hang, bare of leaves, but laden with tiny buds.
The sun is rising fast and soon the mist will burn away.
The promise of a glorious new day creates a quiet excitement and anticipation.
This place is very special.
It has a spirit that absorbs my own and softly whispers its reassuring but unassuming reality.
It beckons the senses to see, hear and feel its stupendous splendour, again and again!
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
Jemaa El Fna - Marrakech, Morocco.
The heart of Marrakech pulsates most feverishly at night in its main square, Jemaa El Fna. Just before sundown, the market stalls start preparations for a long night of dining, shopping and gawking. Not only the sight, but the cacophony of sounds and the various aroma emanating from this location are truly overwhelming - in my opinion, one of the best experience one can ever have from exotic Morocco.
Copyright 2013 - Yen Baet - All Rights Reserved.
DO NOT USE ANY OF MY IMAGES WITHOUT PERMISSION.
Use in websites, blogs or any other media, printing, manipulating and reproducing any of my photos without proper consent is strictly forbidden.
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
This is a 12 second video of the zing drone of a cicada, the chirping of a bluejay, and the electric flow of pulsating morning light reflected off of the river onto the leaves and branches of a maple tree. There seems to be a pareidolia portrait profile of the head of a dog at lower right in the image. It's the dog days of summer.
If you open the video by clicking on the enlarge arrows at upper right, it will repeat over and over in an endless loop.
NGC 1501 is a complex planetary nebula located in the constellation of Camelopardalis, discovered in 1787 by William Herschel. It is also known as the Oyster Nebula. Its central star is a pulsating star, meaning that its brightness varies regularly and periodically.
Data from the Hubble Legacy Archive
Technical Details-
Filters:
Optical - F502 nm (Blue)
Optical - F656 nm (Green)
Optical - F658 nm (Red)
Image Credits NASA/ESA/Hubble
Processing and Copyright: AMAL BIJU
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
Poem.
Beautiful Affric.
As if the Caledonian Forest breathes out, the mist slowly rises like a spirit rising to the ethereal heavens.
Just visible, the River Affric surges down the valley, two hundred feet below, just east of Dog Falls.
Life here is so abundant, from Golden Eagle to Wood Ants,
from Red Deer Stag to Pine-Marten.
In the dawn, a slow pulse of life gathers pace.
Life begins to pulsate, quietly but tangibly.
The carpet of life is mesmerising.
Stately, dignified Scots Pine sweep up and down these slopes for over thirty miles.
Early golden gorse contrasts with still burnished bracken.
“Lambs-tail” catkins quivering in the slightest breeze confirm that spring has arrived.
Delicate silver-birch branches hang, bare of leaves, but laden with tiny buds.
The sun is rising fast and soon the mist will burn away.
The promise of a glorious new day creates a quiet excitement and anticipation.
This place is very special.
It has a spirit that absorbs my own and softly whispers its reassuring but unassuming reality.
It beckons the senses to see, hear and feel its stupendous splendour, again and again!
Hi, my friends! Here it is a blue hour view of the Tree of life at Expo 2015 in Milan.
My family and I dashed off the Expo 2015; not much time and chances to take photographs, nevertheless I tried to capture a moment of the light and water show of the Tree of life, the symbol and arguably the single greatest attraction of the event. Not a masterpiece, admittedly, nevertheless I am glad to share this with you :-)
The Tree of Life, a 37 meters structure made of steel and wood, has a great symbolic appeal and an incredible scenographic impact - especially by night. The lighting system of the Tree, spread over its elaborately woven wooden structure, produces beautiful, everchanging streaks of coloured lights moving along the lines, endowing the whole structure with a pulsating life. During the evening shows the lights and the fountains dance together at the rhythm of the music in an evocative coreography, so that you can imagine to contemplate a magnificent recapitulation of the miracle of life on our Mother Planet :-)
It is interesting to know that the design of the wooden structure of the Tree has its roots deep in the Renaissance, intimately recalling the beautiful paving of Piazza del Campidoglio in Rome ( = Capitoline Hill - not the copy of the White House in Washington), which was designed by Michelangelo in 1534 as a part of his redesign of the whole place. Due to the shape of the square, Michelangelo's decoration is oval-shaped, whereas the Tree of Life is circular.
I hope you will like this shot; we will go back there and I hope to have better opportunities to capture this beautiful Tree of Life.
the sun in the centre, of a hoya pulsator filter. along the becks, the filter can be rotated to form different light angles. langholm, dumfriesshire, scotland.
This cave is much larger than I had at first supposed. When we fed ourselves to the black maw of the hill, a narrow, downward-sloping tunnel had loomed an indeterminate distance before us; but after some fifteen minutes of clumsy groping through the dark we came to a bend and the natural corridor opened into the large cavern we are traversing even now. It is a fantastic and eerily beautiful place-pale, blue crystals jut like spears from every plane of the vast subterrane, softly illuminating it through some obscure chemical interaction, while cracked veins in the rocky floor allow us small glimpses of liquid crystal pools beneath, that glow with the same light as their solid brethren and pulsate with quiet heat. A series of stone terraces that encompassed the whole of the cavern and lent it a bowl-like shape allowed us to descend safely, although we still proceeded with caution, for the crystals' light was faint and converted the blackness that would have been to a tenebrous overall illumination at best. Twice I slipped on rocks hidden by shadows or mistaken for shadows, and Djiimi fared no better. Now that we are at the bottom, it is less dangerous, but it is still frighteningly easy to trip into some dimly lit hole or rift, which is often rimmed with razor bits of crystal, making any sort of progress from one point to another tedious, perilous, and frustrating. In our quest to save Quane I must constantly assess whether the creature that took her (being wormlike and thus limited in its locomotive abilities) would be capable of traversing the the terrain we encounter, but I am confident that it could and did come this way. A more immediate and pressing problem for the two of us (and eventually three if- no, when we find her) is food. Quane and myself had plenty when our entourage of worms was tagging along, and Djiimi showed me how to derive sustenance from the mushroomed plains, but here there are no plants, no water or anything that generates water, and the only animals I have seen are small, batlike creatures that we have no hope of catching now that Djiimi's arrows have been expended and look to provide little meat even if we could bag them. It was fortunate indeed that both our canteens were still in Quane's bag; I filled them before we entered the hill, but we will need to hurry before they are empty.
Lastly, on a note of considerably less importance, I've noticed that a froglike creature has been following Djiimi for a several days now. I had dismissed it as a coincidence before, but what could compel it to willingly leave its natural habitat and follow her down here? Maybe it's a pet? I don't know, but I won't bother with it right now. I've got bigger problems...
Enjoy! I felt like writing a bit more detailed and FANCY story for this chapter. :)
TTOTS is making good progress, deadline is approaching but I've got it. :D
Also, amazingly, I had some spare time the other day and made some clean, lego-related memes. Would any of you like me to post them? I won't make of a habit of this, but this is probably the last MOC I'll upload until the movie is finished and I'll need something to feed my upload addiction in the meantime. :P
Don't forget to C&C please! :)
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
Chapter 14
Matchstick Man
He quickly went down the fire exit stairs!
Reaching solid earth, he turned to make his escape, treading away quietly on the freshly cut, dewy lawn.
His mind still reeling over what had played out inside the large manor’s upper floor bedrooms.
The hefty pouch at his side, a comfortable reminder that it had not all been a dream, but a Burglar’s ultimate fantasy played out if one will label it…
Reaching a line of high shrubbery, he unobtrusively followed in the shadows it created, heading swiftly back to the secret entranceway between the shrubs from which he had entered…
As he reached that point, he stopped… was it the wind playing tricks?
For behind his back, where the dark manor stood, he thought he had caught a voice calling out the name Gaston?
He shook his head without remorse, no feelings of guilt for having taken that naïve lass for everything he could!
Besides, she simply could not have gotten loose that quick anyway!
Or had that chap Gaston made an inopportune entrance?
Either way, like a whispy will-o-wisp, he would be disappearing quite soon from the scene…
So, without any further ado, he silently disappeared back into the mist-filled darkness of the night from which he had emerged!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
He could feel his heart beating with exquisite triumph as he made his back way through the woods along the narrow path he had discovered.
Then his heart leaped to his throat as he spied, off the path, through the trees ahead …
A small flickering light?
He wryly queried under his breath in the silence of the woods…
“Could it be someone approaching?” Somebody else’s Wil-o-wisp perhaps?”
With extreme caution he silently inched ahead towards the light, walking soundlessly upon the soles of his feet, keeping to the shadows.
He soon came out to the edge of a small hollow…
In the centre of which stood a small stone cottage, with a diminutive roundish wooden door and only one ancient lead glass window seen as the sole entrances.
From the inside the window he could see that the flickering light was from a tall squat candle.
He decided to check things out, for what burglar worth his salt would not?
Especially after the run of luck, he was having!
So, it was with a feeling of high spirits that he approached the structure from the side and eased along the outer wall until he reached the opposite side of the window.
He moved carefully, lest his figure cast a warning shadow on the moonlit ground below the light being caste outside the window!
He then leaned over and peaked into the window, oh so cautiously, to have a look inside …
Judging by the light of the candle, it all appeared to be one room.
He could make out a large empty bed, surprisingly covered with satin sheets, a small table, and scrolled black oak high backed chair by the window. An antique writing table across the room, with a set of drawers. Otherwise the room, it appeared, was deserted.
On the table, lit by the candle, was a piece of yellowed paper.
Curiosity got the better of his senses, and he carefully went to the doorway, and silently (by reflex) he managed to inaudibly open the door…
He peered inside; no-one was waiting there to cause him grief.
He then slipped inside and closing the door behind him, went to the table.
The candle was held in a small gold-plated holder.
Next to it lay an old box of wooden matches.
He looked down at the sheet of parchment, flames danced over the paper.
Upon in, written in an elegant female script, was a short note…
‘Gaston,
Avoid Mariette, she is nothing but trouble,
Meet me here afterward. ‘
Lilly
“Lilly?” Hmm he thought, ……
So, there was another young princess to be out and about this evening?
Perhaps it would be worth waiting for the second one to show her pretty (bejewelled?) figure!
But meet after what? A Ball perhaps?
He smiled, as the memory of the ballroom scene in the old movie Pygmalion flashed, and how enticingly jewelled the ladies in attendance had been, and appealing his fantasized designs had been planned on acquiring their baubles as he had watched.
Could it be possible?
The note was still here, so he reckoned that Lilly had not yet returned.
He should not have much longer to wait, and he probably had a good hour before the damsel Mariette would be squawking out an alarm over her stolen trinkets…!
He silently went back to the door and stole swiftly outside, taking a position in the shadows cast by a grove of nearby wavy branch willows.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Chapter 15
The Tracker in the Woods
As luck would have at it, He did not have long to wait!
Only 20 minutes into his allotted hour, his vigilance was rewarded when his keen hearing picked up upon the ever-satisfying rustle of something silken moving ever so gracefully along the path he had just left.
Still savouring his daydream of a jewel laden debutantes, he prepared himself!
His demanding thievery expectations at their fullest.
Soon a feminine figure with long red hair came tentatively into the clearing ...
She was quite elegantly clad in a long brown satin gown that greatly resembled the one he had found in Mariette’s closet!
Her jewellery sparkled brilliantly under the moonlit clearing; dangling earrings, thin necklace, bracelet, ring, and cleavage hung broach, all set with diamonds!
He could see what she was being cautious, so she was not entirely sure what would be lurking about!
Not that he blamed her, a woman dressed as she was should not feel safe walking about in the woods at night, vulnerably alone and unprotected!
“Someone should enlighten the wayward lass !”
She had stopped at the edge of the wooded hollow, some 6 feet away from his hiding spot, as she was looking worriedly about!
After a few long, lonely minutes she moved quickly from the shadows of the woods and crossed the clearing to the stone building.
The bottom of her long brown gown swishing rather alluringly as it fell slinking from her tight bodice.
He could see her features quite well in the light of the moon, enough to see all her finer points outlined by her slinky gown’s tight upper half!
But he stayed put, long developed instincts holding him check!
Reaching the cottage, she gracefully slithered her way around to the window.
Peering inside, she watched for a few minutes, her face lighted by the candle, earrings flashed a scintillating muted fire….
she then slipped to the door.
Opening it, the enticing figure darted inside.
The candle was extinguished, plunging the building and the area around the window into inky blackness.
He waited, watching in the silence, the only sound was his pulsating heart…
Who would make the next move he pondered?
After about 10 minutes an owl's eerie hooting in the distance finally broke the deafening silence!
On the bird of prey’s second call, he decided that is was an omen…
The next move must be his. and he had precious few minutes left to find out, or leave her, this pretty bird in the bush, with the other one’s jewels he had in hand!
Carefully he retraced his steps, peering again into the widow he watched for some long minutes, but nothing appeared to be moving inside.
He made up his mind, and carefully hiding the leather pouch of jewels behind a small rose bush outside near the door, went to it and flung it open wide.
Rushing inside his eyes searched vainly for the panicked female he was hoping to find inside, cowering at his abrupt entrance.
Nothing…
No Movement what so ever!
Going back to the table he struck a match and relit the still smoking candle.
Lifting it, he held it up…
Nothing moved, no shadows from the feminine figure.
Or any living being for that matter was caste in the flickering light!
Puzzled, he had just started to peek under the bed, but ……
Suddenly the sound of several pebbles sharply striking the glass from the outside, made him jump, despite himself.
Swearing under his breath, taking the candle with him he went out the door and allowed its flame to illuminate the darkness outside.
He saw no one!
Then looking over and down, he realized his leather pouch of jewels was also gone from behind the roses!
Cursing himself for playing the fool, he stood there at the doorway, pondering his next move.
It was then that he felt something sharp stick in his back, and heard female giggling behind him…
From inside the cottage!
The pleased girl than said in a quite satisfactory manner…
“Lilly has gotcha’ now my sweet Gaston!”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Chapter 16
Lilly, unimagined
He froze, the game was up, all from being an overly greedy prig!
He was quietly chastising himself when Lilly said with a hint of triumph in her voice…
“Come on in “Gaston!”
Gaston! he thought a glimmer of hope arising…, what with her mistaking him for the tardy French sounding bloke, there may be a way out of this yet me lad!
He turned around obediently and faced the smugly smiling redhead.
She had put her hands behind her back, and was swaying back and forth on her black satin short heeled shoes!
She appeared unnerved at his appearance, and reaching out for the candle, smiled as she said.
“Nice costume Gaston, you really look the part!
He did not answer, letting her take the candle from him.
She had bought forward both her hands, not holding anything sharp, so what had she done with the prickling object?!
Feeling in command of the situation, Lilly turned away, swished over to the table.
The gently laying the candle on the table she looks over at him, coyly gazed into his masked eyes with a blaze of satisfaction emitting from her face!
He had watched her exquisite long brown evening gown as it moved with her, flowing sleekly down along her figure!
A rather pretty figure, he had to admit, with the rather form flitting gown, and her long reddish hair gave no detractions from her Pygmalion like beauty…
The Burglar stood frozen, he had to know what she had done with his leather pouch filled with the jewellery he had stolen from Mariette!
She swished back over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and pulling him into a hug…
“Mmmm, I missed you, Gaston!”
Her head laid on his shoulders, her hair was hanging over her face, the diamond necklace she wore bounced invitingly against his chest!
He looked down upon Lilly.
The back of her neck was exposed, and revealing the dangling diamond clasp of Lilly’s expensive diamond necklace!
He smirked as he thought…
She would never suspect him lifting it!
Still grinning, the masked thief began to rock Lilly back and forth, and she responded by holding him closer.
He lifted his knee so it started rubbing up between her legs, as his hands grasped hard into her figure.
She whimpered a little and responded by lowering herself down and leaning in enough so that his knee reached up into her moist, naked vagina, massaging it as they rocked back and forth.
It was as she was busy pleasuring herself that he took full advantage of her distraction!
His left hand had unobtrusively travelled up from her waist, up along her stimulatingly brown satin gown, finally reaching to the back of her throat.
Nimbly lifting her necklace’s clasp, a simple flick of his fingers was all it took to unsnap it!
He pulled her down on his knee with his right arm holding onto her slippery satin gowned waist, and she squealed, utterly distracted with unbridled pleasure!
It was as she squealed, that he slipped off and away from her, the long thin necklace of brilliantly sparkling diamonds.
Holding it above her for a second, he lowered and pocketed it without Lilly detecting what he was up to!
He also realized that as he had successfully been stealing Lilly’s diamond necklace, his John Thomas had prickled itself into a satisfying discomfort!
With that feeling, and since he had her necklace safely stashed away, he continued letting her ride his knee for a minute or so longer, relishing in the feel as he tried to focus on deciding on how to get her to now reveal where she had hidden the pouch and jewels!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Chapter 17
The Prey
Lilly stopped on her own accord, silently gasping for breath, as she stood up on wobbly legs, her eyes pie-eyed while she stepped back away from him!
He had remained mute…
Figuring he needed to somehow buy enough time to get himself, and Mariette’s jewels, out of this predicament!
Lilly, smiling like the cat who had just eaten a canary, took up his hands and backing away.
Her diamonds notably missing from around her throat, he pondered how fast Lilly would lose that look once she realized what he had been up to?
Lilly led him over to the table.
Reaching the table, Lilly dropped his hands and she sat upon the chair, and wickedly lifting her gown, exposed her naked genitalia to him.
He looked up from this display to face her.
She was smiling up at him, and as he saw the eager look in her eyes, his heart lurched in desire.
Her longish elegantly diamonded earrings, shimmering richly in the light of the candle, were the total cause, and effect.
He felt an unforgiving urge to have them, and to successfully take them from her, he needed to be in a more commanding position to do so!
Smiling with a devilish meaning, he grasped her by the sleekly clad waist and lifted her from the chair.
She came up willing, her eyes sparkling, much like her desirably swinging earrings!
Then he smoothly moved her around, and sat down upon the chair, looking up at her!
Smirking, she knelt in front of him, looking up at him as her fingers began stroking his pants, playfully feeling along his painfully erect manhood bound within!
Her long diamond earrings, hinged clasped upon her sweat glistened earlobes, were swaying back and forth from within her long red hair, with a hypnotic shimmer!
She unzipped his black pants, and freed his stiffly bound John Thomas!
It stood up straight, tall, and proudly erect!
Beaming, she again lifted her gown and mounted him.
Her mind appearing focused there, leaving her taunting jewels unguarded and exposed to the burglar’s endeavors!
She screeched happily as his John Thomas slipped inside as she slid down upon him!
He placed his hands again upon her scintillatingly satin clad sides!
As his john Thomas reached up, she began to rhythmically move up and down along its inserted length!
It was a wickedly good feeling, doubly so with the added exhilaration of an attempt to be made upon stealing the lady’s pricey earrings!
She chad closed her grey eyes and was moaning ecstatically as his plump john Thomas worked its magic deeply reaching up inside her!
He managed to move his fingers up as he placed his hands on both sides of her face, catching her earrings between his fingers and her sweat glistened ears.
Using the motion of her rocking figure to his advantage, he easily managed to slide off both earrings in unison!
He reached down and pocketing them, then dropping his hands out of his pocket and let his arms dangle down to his side, he bent back and moaned in delight at his accomplishments!
He needed to convince Lilly that his entire focus was on her stroking his manhood between his legs, and absolutely on nothing else!
But as soon as his hands had moved from his pockets, she abruptly stopped moaning, and began moving in a different manner!
Dismounting from his lap in a single hop, she swiftly moved behind the chair!
Before his fogged mind could react, she had his hands pulled behind the chair.
He felt the icy cold metal of handcuffs being strapped on over his wrists, clicking shut with a dampening finality!
They both had been playing their own games.
His luck, riding high all evening, had been dramatically cut off at the knees!
And he had to admit that the tables indeed had, been turned quite nicely.
And!
What the hell, did they all have bloody handcuffs?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Chapter 18
Lilly Beguiled
She stood hovering over him, smiling happily.
She intentionally was close enough that her brooch, and breasts, were teasingly hitting his nose!
“I had Supposed my friend, that I had given you ample enough lead!
He looked up at her questioningly
She reached down and played with her bright broach, hanging from her gown, positioned between her (very) perked breasts!
“Enough opportunity that you would have had this also from me! Imagine my surprise to still feel it prickling in its place untouched !!”
She held it glittering in front of his eyes...
She could see, that and despite his predicament, he wanted it!
Smirking she reached behind the brooch and unhooked it.
Then she leaned over, and placing her hands around his head, gently moved it forwards so that his mouth was touching the brooch.
She then moved up, making his mouth pull up the brooch till it came away from her gown and landed in his lap.
She twittered as she took in in hand, and slipped it down inside his pants, brushing along a now very wilted ‘John Thomas’
“There!”
She said, rising…
“That jobs done! I’ll retrieve it later Mr. Burglar!”
She went to the side of the room, as his eyes followed, and pulling out his full leather pouch from underneath the bed, picked it up and carried it triumphantly to the table.
He swore, chastising himself under his breath…
He had been just that close to reclaiming Mariette’s Jewels! But he still harboured hopes of a second chance reclaiming them before the light of daybreak!!
“So quite nice of you to bring me poor Mariette ’s jewels, my sweet burglar.”
She ran her fingers under his chin, tickling with her long fingernails, coloured to match her gown!
She purred evilly…
“How did you leave her then?
Hopefully, you stripped her of everything, then left her tied up and struggling!”
Despite himself, his ‘John Thomas’ began to prick up at this, something Lilly noticed!
“Good, Mariette deserved for that to happen!”
Lilly shivered with delight while saying this as she opening the pouch and began to rummage through it!
She selected the silvery case that had been collected from the master bedroom from inside the leather pouch!
Opening the case in front of his nose, he saw the shimmering pile of white diamonds and red rubies twinkling from inside.
She sat the silver case down on the table and reaching again inside his leather pouch, retrieved the antique jewelled mirror.
Saying as she admired herself in its reflection.
“I’ve always admired this mirror; glad you were able to steal it away from poor Mariette!”
Using the mirror, she put in the dangling earrings of the ruby stoned set, admiring their reflection in the mirror as she did so, with a sidelong glance to make sure her prisoner was watching!
He most decidedly was!
His drooling eyes were as wide as a deer caught in headlights!
Next, she pulled out the long glittering ruby necklace and faced him, the jewels dangling daringly in her hand…
She held up the necklace of rubies…
“You like these sir? I could tell!
she said enticingly waving the jewelled piece in front of his masked face, before elegantly fastening it around her throat, where they cascaded down in a most beckoningly manner.
She admired their shimmering reflection in the ornate silver jewelled hand mirror, smirking to herself!
Yes, he thought drooling over the enticing sight, he did like them, quite a bit actually, and would take as much great pleasure in recovering them from her as he had taken them from hapless Mariette!
He squirmed in his seat at the thought, causing Lilly to giggle!
She murmured…
“Poor Mariette!” Must ‘ave been devastated when she finally realized you weren’t that prat Gaston, and discovering the ending of her fine little game altered against her!
So, she knew he thought, and pondered what was in store for him now?!
Still prattling on about poor Mariette, Lilly continued to pull out the other ruby-encrusted pieces of the matching set.
Saucily dangling each piece tauntingly in front of his masked eyes…
Before slowly, carefully adorning her svelte brown satin clad figure with the fiery red glamorous little buggers!
When she had finished, Lilly stood before him and gave him her full attention.
He in return stared at her, keeping his expression poker-faced and unreadable
“I’m so sorry Mr. Burglar, did you still want these?”
She leaned over him, teasingly playing with jewels so that they flickered in the candles basking soft light.
He most certainly did want them, and his cuffed hands moved, his fingers flexing, itching to reclaim them from that deliciously lovely soft figure!
His mind’s eye quickly played out how he would have his revenge upon that pretty figure!
If only he could get his hands free, and he did so try very hard to do so at that moment!
Sensing his frustration, and maybe realizing what tiger she had by the tail, she smiled teasingly….
And backed away, taking her quite fetching figure and frenziedly sparkling jewels vexingly out of reach...
She went on….
“But they now belong to Lilly don’t they, my sweet burglar ?… However, there is something I can give you my dear…”
Then, looking once again ever like the cat eyeing the canary in his cage, Lilly unzipped her satin gown and let it slip down liquidly down from her figure.
She was now standing before him naked, her figure clad only in her jewels!
She reached over and pulled up and lifted off the black burglar’s mask, smiled deviously into his eyes, causing him to feel more than a slight prickling discomfort from down below as his ‘john Thomas’ rose to new eclectic heights!
She spoke with a whimsically foxy look spreading along her face as she pulled her long red hair up.
“So, Mr burglar? Did you like me better as a blonde?”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Chapter 19
Lilly, unmasked
He sagely shook his head no, smiling into his wife Lilly’s hazel eyes!
she whispered deliciously to her husband, tickling him under the chin with ringed fingers, ….
“Game, Set and Match.. my darling role-playing thief!”
(Mariette/Lilly ) looked with sweet innocence down upon Michael, her husband (Mari in French), costumed as the cat burglar whom she had been calling Gaston/Mr. Burglar all evening!
He found the look upon her sly smiling face with her foxy grin, to be quite most enchanting… as it was, it always was!
Then Michael, with an even wider grin, spoke aloud for only the second time thus far this evening…
“The note luv, how did you know I was going to leave you there like that, and …where did you ever come up with the silly name of Gaston for me?”
“You’re a man my love, and like most, an easy predator to read!”
She tickled under his chin, then continued
“The names Gaston and Mariette? Got them all from the same place; from that old movie, we saw some time ago, where the thief claimed to be reformed in order to steal their jewel’s! Did you forget dearest? But then, you may have had other things on your mind tonight my darling!”
Lilly twittered as she rubbed a hand alongside his face, rings and bracelet delightfully shooting out blazing sparks.
He started to rise but was held firm by the handcuffs, damn he though, forgot about them, this was her part of the role play now, toying with the captured burglar!
Regaining his composure, he smiled and retorted
“Must have forgotten luv?
She squealed happily…
“So, you don’t remember the movie!”
“So you thought from the note, that Lilly was just going to be a second jewelled victim in the game needed to be robbed by the daring burglar!?
Lilly Scolded,
“No no no my sweet”…
“Lilly in the movie was a thief also, just like Gaston! Should have paid more attention to the movie Luv, and less to what your wife was wearing tonight naughty lad!”
And she tickled him underneath the chin in playful rebuff, Before going on...
“History always repeats itself my luv, and you should have been on the lookout for a trap from Lilly!”
Still trying unsuccessfully to recall the flick, he asked…
“So Gaston was taken in by Lilly in the also movie then?”
Lilly looked down upon her husband with a sly grin…
“He certainly was! And like tonight the thief Gaston” was successfully lured to his doom! “
As his wife explained, Her eyes had taken on a lustful glaze, and she bent down to him, her necklace swinging as provocatively as the expression on her face!
Wholeheartedly she kissed her husband as he tried unsuccessfully to raise his arms to her.
Giggling, she broke off and stood back, cheekily studying the bound “burglar” before her with a quite becoming self-satisfied smirk upon her charming face!
Then, again playing with the necklace, she smugly whispered down to him…
“But unlike poor Mariette, this necklace is safe from your clutches, as are the rest of my jewels!”
Shaking his head clear, trying to focus on how the game was turning against him, wondering how he could buy time to still get his hands on his wife’s jewels and come out, ahem! on top…
Then Michael tried to buy time by asking …?
“How did you slip out of here, get the pouch, and sneak back inside without me catching you then luv? Was that part of the movie also?”
He thought to himself that he needed to find the name of the movie to watch it again, and check his wife’s story about what had transpired….
He looked up at his wife’s smug face as she appeared to be about to answer his question…
“My secret!” she purred scrunching down…
“When your Lilly does not want to be caught, she won’t be... Words to the wise ‘Mr burglar’ …..and now that I have caught you my pet…..The game is up, and the last move will be mine!”
“La reine checmates son roi “
she whispered, in French, into his ear!
Bringing her jewels up close, whence they teasingly started sparkling radiantly in his eyes, like cascading rainbows of fiery colours , causing him to squint…
a zipper is heard being slowly pulled down
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Please allow me the break the fourth wall here...
Swiftly, if not modestly, the tales’ scene now cuts to the outside of the moonlit glen with the stone cottage in view. The candle is still flickering in the window… The difference is that now a pair of shadows can be seen moving about indecipherably inside the window’s view of the room…
If one moves closer, stealthy like a thief in the night, and listens in, the silence is quietly broken inside by a male voice asking,
But what was the name of the Movi….?
The last word is cut off abruptly with a heartfelt grunt and what may be described as a suckling noise can be heard!
Soon followed by male moans intertwined by the sounds of a girl’s deliciously mischievous giggling, a bit muffled like she may have something large in her mouth!
And, giving the couple inside their bit of privacy…
The story fades out here and ends!
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.
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
Stock Shot | PMC Week 43 | FM7
_____________
Other Entries:
www.flickr.com/photos/pebb/41706049002/in/album-721576889...
www.flickr.com/photos/pebb/30112969408/in/album-721576889...
While surely we’ll still chum around and admire each other’s work after this, lets be clear that this Iron Builder competition between me and Guy Himber is a battle. We are two well known talented builders with formidable reputations and wits to match. In order to compete against the likes of my friend Guy one would need a legendary warrior with a powerful disposition.
I present to you Ajax The Great! He is a centaur...the most legendary of the mystical beasts and his very name means “greatest warrior” in Greek. He wears a Hoplite helmet and armor and carries a spear and shield. While mostly white, he is adorned with coppery elements that serve as a salute to my competitor’s Steampunk leanings. His form uses a staggering 54 of the 1x6x3 1/3 white curved arch elements required in accordance with the Iron Builder competition. He is also endowed with...um...lets just say...Hurculean attributes designed specifically to intimidate my friend and competitor. And by Hurculean attributes I mean his big...hard...throbbing...vein laden...monstrous...pulsating...unrelenting...biceps! He’s got two tickets to the “gun show” and both guns and all four hooves are going to be used to turn Guy Himber into pulp!
While Guy resorts to creating fake profiles and padding his own images with his own comments in order to create the illusion of popularity, I rely solely on heart, artistry, strength, skill...and the undying adoration of You The People. You have quickly made my first entry one of my most popular and talked about creations of all time and I am certain that this centaur will fare just as well. I thank you, in advance, my friends for your comments, faves, and praise for it is through my win that your voices will be heard.
www.amazon.com/dp/9657589290?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860
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
Groningen is a Dutch city known for its rich history and vibrant cultural scene. And since 2019 it is home to a modern marvel that seamlessly blends the old and the new: the Forum Groningen. This architectural gem stands tall in the heart of the city, captivating both locals and visitors with its innovative design and multifaceted purpose.
It is a Contemporary Masterpiece. The Forum Groningen stands as a symbol of modernity against the backdrop of the city's traditional architecture. Designed by NL Architects in collaboration with the Swiss firm Swiss architects Happel Cornelisse Verhoeven, the building boasts a contemporary and dynamic aesthetic that challenges the conventional.
The building has a unique geometry. Consisting of various stacked cubes and angular shapes, the building presents a visually captivating facade that seems to defy gravity. The architects' choice of form not only adds an element of surprise but also maximizes the use of space within the structure.
The forum is a multi-purposeful development. Beyond its avant-garde exterior, the Forum Groningen houses a versatile space that serves a multitude of functions. It hosts a public library, a state-of-the-art cinema, exhibition spaces, and even a rooftop terrace that offers panoramic views of the city. This intentional integration of diverse functions reflects the architects' commitment to creating a space that caters to the varied interests and needs of the community.
Beyond its architectural prowess, the Forum Groningen is a cultural hub that pulsates with creativity. It hosts a wide array of events, from film festivals to literary gatherings, making it a dynamic space that fosters community engagement and artistic expression. It even houses a publicly available 3D print shop. The building's open design invites individuals to explore and interact, creating a sense of connectivity within the city.
Technical stuff
This is a single handheld shot taken with a Canon G5X. The setting were: 640ISO, -2/3EV, f5.6, 1/25 and 8.8mm. Although, this camera, in Canon’s G-series Powershot range, is versatile and quite good in most all circumstances, it is indoors a little bit strong on noise in the higher ISO-ranges. So, I thought this was a great opportunity to test the recently added AI-driven noise reduction tool in Lightroom. I think, this tool did a great job. Especially with regard to keeping the crisp sharpness of the image. Unfortunately such tools ask rather a lot of processor capacity of one computer… So, you guessed it, a new project is born!
Furthermore, I converted the colour RAW photo into black-and-white with Lightroom and balanced the toning a little. Finally, I added the copyright signs (in Photoshop). The latter is, alas, there to stay due to the frequent copying of my photos. So, don't bother commenting on that.
Dunlin do sing and I managed to catch one in the act on the high blanket bog of the Peak District. They sing with a rhythmic pulsating buzzing whistle, that sounds more like a child's toy ray gun than a bird. Take a listen to the audio on this page if you don't believe me:
www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/bird-a...
They sometimes sing in flight, and sometimes from the ground, as here. Most birdwatchers are familiar with Dunlin (Calidris alpina) as a common wading bird at the coast, but far fewer have seen it on its breeding grounds. It is one of the special treasures of the high blanket bogs of the Peak District where just a few dozen pairs breed. This compares with hundreds of pairs of Golden Plover and Curlew over the same area. They are often shy and elusive, and frustratingly are most active at dusk and dawn, often vanishing during the day. Unlike the plain brown winter plumage, the breeding plumage is spangled with rufous and they have a smart black belly patch, as if someone had pressed them onto an ink pad.
Most of the coastal wintering birds migrate to Britain from the extensive bogs of Iceland and northern Scandinavia. The British breeders are of the race schinzii, which also breeds in Iceland and eastern Greenland. A different race (alpina) breeds across Scandinavia, which look similar to schinzii, but are a tad larger with longer bills.
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
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
The room is cleansed by the burning of Cannabis.
Heavy smoke lingers in the air.
Ancient words, incantations, are read and spoken for the sprits to hear.
Her gown has been ripped open and her torso has been partially exposed.
I can see little beads of perspiration beginning to form on her flesh, glistening in the candle light..
It is almost time to release the beast within her.
I can feel the blood pulsating through my arteries, throbbing harder and harder in against my throat.
It is almost time to bring out the sacrifice knife..
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This aurora was far stronger than anything you would have expected given the relatively weak solar wind, and there were no significant deviations on the magnetometers either. I've seen something similar after very large displays, with pulsating fragmented arcs, but usually the next day and much lower down. Can only think this was caused by residual effects following Thursday night's aurora.
The Kp5 aurora of August 7-8, 2022 in its post sub-storm phase after an appearance of STEVE. The aurora was flickering and pulsating to the north and east at this time. The patch at top was part of the pulsating effect, appearing briefly for this frame but not in the frame before or after.
This is a single 13-second exposure with the Canon R6 and TTArtisan 21mm lens at f/2.8. Taken from home in southern Alberta.
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.
. . . Femdom Tale . . .
Chapter - Arena of Femdom and Enslavement
" Ask me if I'm tired of fighting. Ask me if I'm scared. Then watch me enter this arena and see if you believe your own questions. No, weariness will never claim me, this is my home!
A thousand battles etched in these sands, and still the thrill thrums through my veins. This arena's a mistress I can't resist, a siren song of sweat and glory. It's a canvas of blades and spells, a whirlwind of strategy and fury I addicted to.. ❤️ "
ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ
. . . Enslaving Them . . .
Chaining those with energy and extraordinary abilities isn't a walk in the park. The path is marked with scars and resistance since their vibrant spirit doesn't surrender easily to the shackles of enslavement.
ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ
. . . Rules of Fighting / Enslaving . . .
" Identify whether he is a sub, a dom, or a switch, as they use different ways to enslave and handle them."
1. Male Submissive
1.1 When he hits, dodge.
When he throws a punch, dodge it. Don't take his hits. If you catch his punch or let him land a successful attack, even if it's just a light one, he'll start looking down on you and won't bother chasing or seeking you out anymore. (Game over)
" Always watch out behind you. Beware of backstabbing and all kinds of poison. Even the love potion might be poison. They're tricky, they fight dirty, and they're cunning. Don't trust them. They don't fight fair or head-on like a Dom, they wait for the right moment to hit you from behind or catch you off guard mercilessly, much more unkind than Doms. If Doms fought like tigers (eating when you die), Subs engage in a hyena-style fight, where they'll eat you alive, consuming what they bite immediately."
1.2 When he stops, tease him with a jab.
" Use sneaky jabs to relentlessly mess with his head, making him careless and accidentally revealing his weak spots, setting you up for an attack. "
1.3 When he lowers his guard, go all out with your attack.
" When he reveals his weakness or lowers his guard, go all out with your attack. Don't stop, even if you get hurt. Aim for a successful knockout. "
1.4 When he runs away, chase him and bring him back.
" When you fail to knock him out, he'll freak out and try to escape. If he gets scared and runs away, you gotta relentlessly chase him down, stick with it, and drag him back. Swallow your pride, use every trick to reel him in, even if it means fighting, facing off with his hideout, his other half. Realize your enslaving job isn't done yet—he's gotta come back. "
1.5 Repeat!
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2. Male Dom
2.1 When he hits, pretend he succeeds.
When he hits, take all his punches, pretend you're hurt, easily surrender, and admire how awesome his punches are.
" That punch was like nothing I've faced before. Everyone else is a weaker hitter than you. You bring a world of amazing battles. I've been through many tournaments, and there's never been anyone as powerful, strong, smart in a fight, or as amazing as you. Just your powerful fighting stance melts me, making me surrender deeply to your awesomeness."
2.2 When he stops, tease him with a jab.
Use sneaky jabs to relentlessly mess with his head, making him careless and accidentally revealing his weak spots, setting you up for an attack.
" Build trust and a sense of safety in him, or make him think you're not as smart by asking for his suggestions on things that most people know well. If you're too lazy to listen to his answer, there's no need to ask for his suggestions, just say, 'Oh, I just knew that' or 'Oh, I never knew that before,' making him secure that he is smarter, for him to lower his guard and reveal his weak spots."
2.3 When he lowers his guard, go all out with your attack.
When he reveals his weakness or lowers his guard, go all out with your attack. Don't stop, even if you get hurt. Aim for a successful knockout.
2.4 When he runs away, chase him to knock him out or bring him back.
When you fail to knock him out, he'll freak out and try to escape.
" Estimate what percentage of attacks he's taken. If it's less than 50%, use your innocent side to make him feel safe and return to you. If it's more than 50%, chase after him and keep attacking until you succeed. Don't let him heal, or he'll come back even stronger. Don't let him escape, or he might not return. Keep him in a state of fear. If he's really strong, continue instilling fear. As long as the mind is weak and panicked with fears, no matter how strong his body is, he will crumble eventually."
2.5 Repeat!
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3. A Switch
Sometimes his emotions and mind play the dom while he's in a Sub role, and sometimes his mind plays the sub while he's in a Dom role. He doesn't know and realize himself well, you must observe and decide.
" The fight is tough, sensitive, and meticulous. It's a martial art that requires a ton of psychology because it's like juggling two conflicting things. You've got to stay updated, figuring out which side of his emotions is dominating at the moment, constantly adjusting and tuning in. It's intricate and delicate, and it's easy to fail and slip up. You've gotta be super careful and pay attention to every detail. "
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. . . After Breaking up . . .
☑️ Enslaved him 99% = Still Failed
☑️ Only Enslaved him 100% = Success
" After successfully enslaving him (100%), do as you wish—learn and grow together. Even if it fails and you break up with him, be confident: what is yours (100%) is yours.
Your slave is your slave. If he runs away, there's no need to chase him anymore. Ignore him, cut off all contacts mercilessly. He will wait for you to follow him, to chase him, and to care about him like a loyal dog. Give it time. Let him sink deep into the misery of yearning and suffering to be yours again, to feel you again, to get your attention again. Always keep in mind, no matter how many women he dates after you, no matter how many times he marries or partners, what is yours will always be yours. Just with a snap of your fingers, he will leave everything and break anyone to be with you, to be yours again. "
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. . . His Return . . .
☑️ After 3-4 months at least, 6-8 months, 1-3 years, 5-7 years
**** Keep in mind, he must lose significant things to come back—things that will scar him and make him remember well that he lost big to make a comeback. ****
Don't let him return for free, don't make it too easy for him. For example, you may set the price high, in the range of 80-500$++. If he's short on cash, he must be ready for some creatively substantial sacrifices. Propose significant items as sacrifices that he must obtain for you. Maybe the breakup of his new Miss or the heads of all his dear subs, complete with a transparent screenshot chat log of him ending the relationship the way you ordered—use those as your offerings. It's like a sacrifice, a significant tribute to earn permission for a comeback.
If he negotiates, don't become so focused on what you want that you forget to weigh it carefully. There must have been something he sacrificed or felt hurt about losing, regardless of whether it's something you truly desire or not. He had to lose it and feel its impact deeply.
Take this as another step of enslavement that goes even deeper. Carve deeply into his soul, make him realize that nothing belongs to him anymore, what was his can never truly be his. Everything now belongs to you and is at your mercy. He cannot possess a thing, everything he has had is yours, and you've taken it all away, you can take it away powerfully, just the way you like, anytime you desire.
" Every now and then, for a smoother ride in our life together, we gotta give his personna and moral compass a little spin to sync up with his owner's vibe. That way, we can sidestep those pesky arguments we had in past, vibe with better compatibility, deeper understanding, and groove together effortlessly this time."
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🎧 What Lies Beneath 🎵
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztJirkY5AMw
In this arena, it's not just about bloodstained stones, it's a symphony of clashing egos, steel and roaring crowds. She waltzs with death, the rhythm intoxicating—an exquisite fusion of kink-infused architecture, pulsating with genuine heart and wisdom. She doesn't adhere to the constraints of sports rules, to her, it's a visceral dance akin to MMA, with the gleam of gold belts as her coveted trophies.
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'Dominatrix" model of the SeriousKit vacuum suit complete with hand and feet pods. Zipped closed from behind with an airtight zip. A great sense of vulnerability as you are "helped" into the suit.
Designed to accommodate the wide range of sizes.
A'dam Tower, a 100-meter-high lookout on the IJ river. A’DAM LOOKOUT is an observation deck with an unrivalled panoramic view of Amsterdam. You’ll see the city’s historical centre, its pulsating port, the unique Dutch polder landscape and you’ll spot the famous canals which belong to the UNESCO World Heritage list. Complementing the experience is a state-of-the-art interactive exhibition and free audio tour about Amsterdam’s history and culture. A’DAM LOOKOUT is located on top of the A’DAM Tower in Amsterdam North. (www.adamlookout.com/)
The red light is calling 📞
Friday 03 OCT | 1PM SLT
YUNA | LILI
Pure fuego all night. Raw energy. Pulsating beats.
18+/FTWK
I've been abnormally quiet for the past few weeks because of camera problems, but my D200 is finally back and I'm ready to get started again, especially with the summer fast approaching. The dust problem is still there, but I don't care at this point - it's much better than it was and it still takes great pictures which is all that really matters. This shot was taken on the Longfellow bridge in Boston. The day started off rather cloudy, but gave way to this gorgeous sunset.
The wind howls through time
Past my face and into the dusk
Collapsing the light onto itself
In a vortex of blissful surrender.
Breath by breath
I breathe the stillness of the moment
Breath by breath
I breathe the fury of the wind.
The argument is ended sharply
By the pulsating sound of steel
Against steel, reverberating
Into the fading light.
I close my eyes in anticipation
Waiting for the night to come
And take one last breath
Before the day is done.