View allAll Photos Tagged Questions
# #UrbanWeek #Festival #StreetCulture #ParisLaDéfense
LACPIXEL - 2017
Please don't use this image without my explicit permission.
© All rights reserved
With approximately 40 million users on Flickr, yours truly (thanks to all my Flickr friends) made #1 as Flickr's top photographer ( www.flickrooster.com/archive/2017/03 ) - yeah I'm tooting my own horn since no one else will... but I digress. That leaves the question: With nothing left to accomplish, what do I do now?
Hmm, got to be a bird in that image somewhere lol...
As a B&B host (not an Air BnB Superhost! no thanks) I get asked many questions: where to go, what to see, what's the weather going to do today, etc? Fortunately, having an interest in photography has helped me in that, as I regularly recce the area to check roads, where deer are, highland coos, etc, and taste the local whisky so that I know!
Sometimes I'm powerless to help. When people (French) travel from the south of France to the Scottish Highlands and then decide it's too far to go 25 miles to explore the end of the Ardnamurchan peninsula. Or they only bring white trainers and no walking boots with them as if expecting to only walk on city pavements and not across unspoilt and rugged Mother Nature. I despair sometimes with the lack of 'nous' or planning. Of course they also expect to get up late and then set off for a day trip of all of Skye....and haven't even thought to book a ferry in peak season.
Some, a few, arrive better prepared, some with teenage kids more interested in staying in the room and playing Call of Duty on the Playstation. To them, I might say, why not go far off the beaten trail out to Glendrian?
Your kids can get some lungfulls of pure, fresh highland air, some exercise and some education (why do people come here with big plastic bottles of Highland Spring water bottled from some drain near the Ochil Hills near Glasgow? How could it be more pure than what we have come out of the mountains around here? At least I'm reasonably confident our water hasn't already passed through several other human beings, and only filtered after flowing through the whole sewage system and chemically recycled).
Glendrian is an abandoned crofting township in the centre of the Ardnamurchan peninsula centred on grid reference NM480687. It is a Scheduled Monument, Historic Scotland describing it as “of national importance because of its potential to contribute to our understanding of post-medieval settlement and economy. Although only abandoned in the 1940s the settlement incorporates information for the earlier expansion and contraction of the community who lived here. The buildings are varied in date and style and contain evidence for the complex history of settlement on the site.”
Glendrian’s lands occupy the eastern half of the low land within the circle of hills formed by the main ring dykes of the Ardnamurchan Tertiary Volcanic Complex. Even in winter, when the vegetation has died back, the buildings are difficult to see.
But take your teenagers out there and ask them to imagine it was their home, completely isolated and cut off in the low land where there is total silence within the circle of hills formed by the main ring dykes of the Ardnamurchan Tertiary Volcanic Complex. There's no road to it. No electricity. The running water is in the form of a burn along the bottom of the shallow valley. No shops. And apart from feeding and tending to the animals kids still had to go to school in Kilchoan, six miles over the hills. And they didn't have modern water and windproof clothing to cloth them as they walked to school in winter darkness, and rain, hail and snow. And shock-horror: tell your teenagers they had no phone signal or wifi either!
People lived in Glendrian until the 1940's until the convenience of motorised transport links, shops and electricity lured them to living in towns and villages. 80 years on, if they were still alive would they move back, valuing the quality of life in Glendrian: no noise, no traffic, no crowds, no crime, no rape, no knife crime - a peaceful way of life? That's what 'civilisation' should be. Indeed the movement of people to live in towns and cities has heralded the end of civilisation! A visit to Glendrian can teach modern youth, and city and town folk a lot! I scuttled off home before the rain arrived.
A more comprehensive history of the settlement is here : heritageardnamurchan.co.uk/glendrian/
am assuming that this truck and the beat-up car on the trailer belong to the policeperson who is guiding traffic around a road resurfacing crew who are heating up the macadam, scraping it off, and will eventually replace it with a new surface. that at least explains the orange sign.
ANSH scavenger3 Handwritten
Question? Are these "Motion Blur" Photos now? --- de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bewegungsunsch%C3%A4rfe#:~:text=Als...(im%20englischsprachigen%20Raum,sonstige%20Bedienungs%2D%20und%20Einstellungsfehler%20des
What has probably happened here?
Why did the killer not taken his dagger?
Why he used an oriental dagger?
Whose is the wedding ring?
And most important is the question: Where is Mrs. Arlington now...?
__________________________________
So, this is a murder mystery scene inspired by Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie novels.
(and yes, this ins't blood made by Lego...)
Nooroyd
Felosinha | Phylloscopus collybita | Common chiffchaff
Não porque esteja relacionado mas quando pensei neste título, lembrei-me imediatamente da anedota dos dois compadres na piscina municipal. Um lá em cima, bem à beirinha da prancha, de "peito feito", todo convencido, pronto para saltar e o outro cá em baixo a observá-lo, comenta:
- Eh compadre, vossemecê parece uma águia!
Lá do alto, o outro questiona-o:
- À sim e então, é dos "peitos"?..
- Não compadre, é das unhas dos pés!!!
Também: Felosa-comum, Bago-d'uva, Fluim, Fulecra, Tolinha-das-couves in "AVES DE PORTUGAL - Ornitologia do território continental" - Assírio & Alvim.
Invernante muito comum e nidificante muito rara
12/12/2015 - Sobreda (Almada, Portugal)
[Obrigado pela visualização]
[Thanks for your visualization]
One for Macro Mondays theme of Smell.
One of those random questions popped up on Facebook the other day: "What food do you hate?"
My answer gave me the idea for Macro Mondays when I saw this, so here you have a little knife cutting into Castello Creamy Blue cheese... yuk!
Dave won't complain as he loves it...
Approx 1" across.
As neuroses go, it's probably not among the most damaging that a poor tortured soul might have to endure. In fact, considering everything that ails humankind these days I probably shouldn't mention it at all. But here's the thing. I hate my name. Always have done since I was old enough to master all three syllables. And don't tell me it's a nice name. It doesn't matter whether you think it is or not, because as the person who has to live with it, it's on my birth certificate, my driving licence and my passports (both British and Irish) and I detest it with a passion. During the early years of my working life I'd give my name to somebody over the phone and then have to spell out every single letter. One builder whose accounts I was given to work on called me “Sebastian” instead. Which sounded quite ridiculous in a West Cornwall accent. He thought it was hilarious, and he was the customer so I had to grin politely and put up with it. Whenever I say my name it sounds as if I'm a very minor member of the aristocracy. An impoverished fourth son of the baron of a dried up salt marsh who stopped receiving invitations to an audience with the king in the early 1950’s. Nowadays, only people who've known me forever call me Dominic. Generally speaking that's my parents, although my sister often slips into it. She's also had three syllables dumped on her. Rebecca, but only Mum, who remains insistent on this nonsense, calls her that. Everyone else has always called her Becky. My brother is kinder and calls me Dom unless he's in a playful mood and wants to annoy me. As you’ll read later, he got away lightly.
I dropped the “inic” many years ago and anyone who has come into my orbit over the last twenty years simply knows me as Dom. My closest friends only know me as Dom, because that's what I told them my name was when I met them for the first time. “Dom” I can deal with, even though it's often misheard as John or Tom, or mistyped as Don. Once in Barcelona I told the waitress I was “Domingo.” It was the only way to avoid confusion. As for “Dominic,” hardly anyone could spell that correctly. There'd be a K on the end, or two many O's and not enough ‘I's. Or all of those things. One secretary where I worked in my twenties always called me Dominique. Spelt it that way on Christmas cards too. Even though I love France, I'm not French. In the same workplace, an IT consultant spent a few weeks with us and was introduced to me as Nic. It was only when he had to put his full name on a form that I realised we had the same first name. He obviously hated Dominic too, but had been rather more inventive than me at throwing the nomenclature pedants off the scent. Why hadn't I thought of Nic? That would have been much better. Although I suppose everyone would still have added a K on the end. Later on, a cleaner who was hovering on the brink of retirement became convinced my name was Duncan. “Alright Duncan?” she’d chirp squeakily as she came in to empty the bins at the end of each day. I’ve really no idea where she’d got Duncan from, and before long, it was too late to disabuse her. To her, I’d always be Duncan. My colleagues loved this. As for my surname, don't even go there. It's Haughton, not Houghton or Horton or any similar version of events. Hardly anyone gets that right first time. Almost everyone says it wrong too. Even people who've known me for years pronounce it wrongly. I've been on many adventures with Lee, and he still pronounces it Howton. But it's Horton. Spelt Haughton. With an A and only one O, and definitely no R's. Keeping up? Can you see why it drives me around the bend? Told you it was a pain to live with. I've been dealing with this for nearly sixty flipping years!
Three syllables for goodness sake. Nobody needs three syllables in a forename. It's one too many. When I was four and a half, my brother came along. I was not impressed at having to share my parents with anyone else, and to add insult to injury they called him David. Why couldn't I have been called David, like David was? I protested bitterly and begged our parents to call me David too, but they heartlessly ignored me. I was stuck with Dominic, no matter how much I detested those three syllables. And he can be abbreviated to Dave. Everyone hears and spells Dave correctly. Nobody says, “come again, was that Wade?” Or “pleased to meet you Gabe!” You couldn't possibly get it wrong.
“So why bring all of this up now?” is a question you might be asking. Well at the time of writing, and after a few days in Cork catching up with my family, I'm on the west coast of Ireland, on the Dingle Peninsula in Kerry to be exact. Kerry. That’s another name you can’t really get wrong. Staying in a cottage where the host greeted me as Dom. “A good place to write,” as my cousin Fiona pointed out. She's the only one of eight siblings with a triple syllable by the way. But really, Fiona is more like two and a bit as you can merge the vowels almost seamlessly. All eight of my Irish cousins, and my aunt and uncle, being among the people who've known me longest on this planet, call me Dominic, pretty much without exception. I've been Dominic for four days now. But the strange thing is, I don't mind it so much when they say it. Something about the easy stretching of the vowels and the gentle Cork lilt that makes me sound like the strange Cornish cousin that I am, rather than the landed gentry at the big house in Midleton where my Great Grandfather worked as head gardener over a hundred years ago. They all have that same twinkle about them that Grandad did too. But when you breathe in a landscape like this on a daily basis, it’s no wonder really. It’s a rare place this.
I'm here today and tomorrow, and then I'm back to Cork where I'll become Dominic again for a couple of days until I land back in Cornwall early next week. When I’m home, I’ll be Dom - so don’t get any ideas. Not unless you’re Irish that is. Especially if you’re from Cork. Then, just maybe, I might just let you get away with it without pulling a face that tells you what I really think about those three dreaded syllables.
I've been trying to paint X-23's face and I just can't get the likeness. I don't know why but it is just too tricky. What do suggest I change??
Explored - Aug 28, 2009 #298 - Thanks all :D
-----
What are you looking at ?
who's looking at whom ?
Are you lost ?
Life is full of questions, and the ones who find the answers get to live on ..
------
Back to my favorite model , my lovely brother Tlooly .
it's an old shot using my old camera : Canon Powershot SX 100 IS
Say Masha' Allah please :)
-----
© Fatima Al-Madhi
Copyright for this gallery photo belongs solely to Fatima Al-Madhi Images may not be copied, downloaded, or used in any way without the expressed, written permission of the photographer.
“Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the world? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted? And If I am compelled to take part in it, Where is the director? I want to see him.” - Soren Kierkegaard (Danish Philosopher and Theologian. 1813-1855)
TGIF!!!
Photo taken at Eden Nature Park, Davao City, Philippines
Here are some examples of what my photo final will look like. My inspiration comes from a question we all struggle to answer as we move through our lives: "Who am I?". These aren't perfect; I desperately need a third light and someone to hold my reflector. Also, the white balance needs to be corrected on this one. Otherwise, it was fun to do and I should have the final versions up within the next 2 weeks. Let me know what you think!
This is the caterpillar of the Question Mark butterfly (Polygonia interrogationis). There is a tiny mark on the underside of the butterfly's wing that gives it the unusual name. I photographed this spiky creature at the Butterfly Haven in Pingree, Idaho.
Orto Botanico di Padova, Serre
taken: 25/05/2009
canon a-1; Canon FD 24mm f/2.8
Black&White film
i love the result on the window and on the wall ♥
--
foto scattata per un lavoro dell'università
spero che alla prof le foto piacciano, così posso tirarmela un po' ahahah
Follow me on :
- Facebook : www.facebook.com/Nadaecc
- Tumblr : nathancareme.tumblr.com/
Ask me question here : ask.fm/NathanCareme
Twitter/Insta : nadaecc
I admit it: I love these creatures! So of course, what better place to spend an afternoon than at the Alpaca Farm? Now the next question is this: how many photos do I dare post before this interest reveals itself as the obsession that it is?
Oak Bluffs, Martha's Vineyard.
Federation Pavilion, Centennial Park, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
On my last proper morning in Sydney (we are there for another night, but we are at the Airport, which doesn't count in my books) I went for a walk around Centennial Park which is located a couple of minutes walk from where we were staying.
I came across this building which was built in 1988, and is probably one of the most important buildings in Australia's history. But I don't think most Australians would recognise the building or know what it contains.
Inside this modern building is the Federation Stone, which marks the combining of the six independant states of Australia into the "Federal Commonwealth of Australia", on 1 January 1901. The birth of the nation as it were.
This building was built to mark the bicentennial of Australia and was designed by Alexander Thanes. The inscription on the sandstone frieze of the Pavilion, just below the dome, 'Mammon or Millennial Eden', is a paraphrased question posed in the poem "Australia" by Bernard O'Dowd, written in 1901.
Ok, so first of all, the photo is completly irrelevant. People like IW so you know, I guess it's 'clickbait' in a way. Also, I guess, sorry for not posting, I'm on holiday so, you know. Plus all you lads follow lots of lads who post like 5 times a day so, you got lots to look at. Ok, on the the question...
So, I've been thinking about this for a while. Would you guys rather have quality, or quantity. Like would you rather have like one or two customs that take like 5-8 hours to make, a week? Or like five or six trash figures a week? I personally like to take my time with my figures. Like, my AK Scarecrow took me like 2 weeks of on and off work to make, and I think it came out really good. Compared to my Kingpin figure which took me like two days and I really don't like the look of him.
So really, quality or quantity?
Post your thoughts below mates.
Oh, and don't be a prick, don't post a photo saying "OH SNAP ______ DIED IN INFINITY WAR. OH SNAP." Because me, and lots of other lads don't want to get the biggest movie of our lives spoiled.
Not a wet paeony :)
What is reality? Is it an image? A reflection of an image? Or is it what we see?
Well... no to all of these. So the question remains an intriguing one. And the more I read about human perception the more intriguing it becomes: our minds don't see what our eyes do…
(And if, perchance, you find your curiosity piqued, ask yourself the question why are tiger and zebra stripes vertical and not horizontal. It’s not an accident and nor a creative whim, and the answer is relevant to photography too….)
This is for the Smile on Saturday group’s Reflection on Black theme.
It’s a visual tease of course. There are three questions in the puzzle:
What is it?
Which way is what?
Where’s the mirror?
All easy to answer, but if your eyes pause even for a moment as they work it out I will feel I have succeeded in my objective.
Curiously, for me, I found it much more obvious looking at the thumbnail than at the full-screen version. And that itself is a comment on our perception I think....
I read somewhere, and it’s true for me, that a photograph that takes the mind a little while to work out generally will be perceived as a more interesting one. And that is why we find record shots and clichéd images less engaging than the creative ones - sometimes just changing the viewpoint makes capture interesting (we all take our images at head height don’t we lol.)
This is part of a set I took 18 months ago, though I only processed this particular perspective today. If you want confirmation of what it is you can rummage through my photostream to find out...
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image! Happy Smile on Saturday :)
[Tripod mount; delayed-release. Black background on black glazed ceramic tile, side-lit with LED torch.
Processed in Capture One using levels to make things blacker and then balancing the light to give some detail in the reflection. Enhanceds colours, particularly the blue and the orange. Because I like them :)
Used a gradient masked layer to brighten the reflection part to decrease the disparity in lightness against the source.
Nik Color Efex Pro for a Classic Soft Focus effect to introduce a glow to the highlights. This was a bit over the top so I blended the effect layer back into the original using Darken mode.
Flipped vertically. For fun.
Then we were done :)]
======================================================================================================================
1935 Amilcar Type G36 Pegasé Boattail Roadster in the style of Figoni et Falaschi
The first Amilcar was produced in 1921 with a four-cylinder engine and door-less, two-seater torpedo bodies. The brand offered increasingly sporty cars and entered automobile racing in the mid-1920s with a group of supercharged dual overhead cam six-cylinder cars. In the late 1920s, the line was expanded further with the introduction of a light touring car. The company merged with Hotchkiss in 1937 but stopped production in 1939 with the outbreak of war. It never resumed production.
The Pegase Grand Prix was introduced as a 'competition voiture' at the 1936 Paris Auto Show. It was powered by a Baby Lago Talbot dual overhead cam 2.7 liter 4-cylidner Delahaye 'Grillot' designed engine of which only eight were built. Only four Pegase Grand Prixs were built, two of which are roadsters. The cars were fitted with Delahaye 135M four-speed transmissions, running gear and hydraulic brakes due to the strong influence Delahaye exerted over the firm in its last days.
Source: conceptcarz
____________________________________________________
This car was recorded at the 2019 Milwaukee Concours d’Elegance. I feel compelled to add, the processing of an acceptable image of this car has been an “on again - off again” laborious project …….which I frankly I question as to whether it was all worth it. I feel like I could have fully restored a real 1935 Amilcar in less time (but certainly not in less monies) in the hours and effort I put into this.
Hope you enjoy my friends…………..