View allAll Photos Tagged Realization
Always humored the running joke of Pan Am being a railroad that had low track speeds, but yesterday trip to the capital region proves it. Heres RJED with a pair of worn out ex CSX D8Ws doing the hot speed of 10 past the abandoned Johnsonville tower.
Where the Land dance mat is a realization of Yves Gendreau. This imposing work of art is installed at the Quays of the Promenade Samuel-De Champlain.
River inspired mats
The work consists of nine rods tricolores more than thirteen feet high, whose top reminiscent of a boat mast. Decorated with vanes, radar reflectors and airspeed, the installation evokes the relationship with the river. Where the Land dance mat is a nod to the navigation and its importance for the destiny of Quebec .
"Rights and planted in the ridges and troughs of the waves of this vast land area which overlooks the river, stands a series of light poles. Same length, they lie in continuing the wave created by the terrain. The beauty of the landscape and traffic on the rise establish dynamic relationships with these objects. Holders of several levels of meaning and possible interpretation, the provision of masts and the arrangement of colors create a sensory experience varies according to different scales of approach. "
Yves Gendreau
"The agony of breaking through personal limitations is the agony of spiritual growth.
Art, literature, myth and cult, philosophy, and ascetic disciplines are instruments to help the individual past his limiting horizons into spheres of ever-expanding realization.
As he crosses threshold after threshold, conquering dragon after dragon, the stature of the divinity that he summons to his highest wish increases, until it subsumes the cosmos.
Finally, the mind breaks the bounding sphere of the cosmos to a realization transcending all experiences of form - all symbolizations, all divinities: a realization of the ineluctable void."
(From "The Hero With a Thousand Faces" by Joseph Campbell)
A few days ago as I was coming to the Ganges at dawn I saw this sādhu on the top of Dasaswamedh Ghat.
He must have been transcending all experiences of form in order to become a follower of Lord Shiva...
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Please do not use any photographs without permission (even for private use).
The use of any work without consent of the artist is PROHIBITED and will lead automatically to consequences.
View of the Stanley Park seawall from the Siwash Rock viewpoint on New Years Day 2014.
The original idea for the seawall is attributed to park board superintendent, W. S. Rawlings, who conveyed his vision in 1918
Rawlings said:
“It is not difficult to imagine what the realization of such an undertaking would mean to the attractions of the park and personally I doubt if there exists anywhere on this continent such possibilities of a combined park and marine walk as we have in Stanley Park”.
The proposal was made to the federal government that it should help finance seawall construction because it owned the park and only leased the land to the city. It was argued that the waves created by ships passing through the First Narrows were eroding the area between Prospect Point and Brockton Point. On this basis, the federal government helped pay for the wall only until 1967 because the portions of the park vulnerable to erosion were now protected.
Most of the Stanley Park portion of the wall was built between 1917 and 1971, although the park portion was not completed until 1980. Much of the original wall was constructed under the direction of James "Jimmy" Cunningham, a master stonemason who spent 32 years on the project until his death. Cunningham continued supervising construction into his last days despite being ill, and on at least one occasion, went to check the seawall's progress still wearing pajamas. He died on September 29, 1963, long before the wall was finished, but remains the one most associated with the project, and a commemorative plaque can be found near Siwash Rock, also where his ashes were scattered. In contrast to the continuity during Cunningham's oversight of the project, construction of the seawall was intermittent, owing to the short-term funding commitments of the civic and federal governments. The first 4,000 feet was completed between 1914 and 1916. A series of storms threatened the foreshore near Second Beach during the war, when water flooded the patch of land between the beach and Lost Lagoon. In 1920, the wall served as aworkfare project for 2,300 unemployed men (the largest number of workers at any one time), and by 1939, 8,000 more feet of the wall was finished.[4] Another 9,100 feet was built between 1950 and 1957, and the final 2,500 feet was not taken on until 1968. On September 26, 1971, the last block, completing the original vision of the seawall, was tapped into place by H. H. Stevens, who also helped initiate the project in 1914 as a Member of Parliament for Vancouver. Others that laboured on the wall included unemployed relief workers again during the Great Depression and seamen from HMCS Discovery on Deadman's Island facing punishment detail in the 1950s. Also in that decade, stone sets from the recently dismantled BC Electric Railway streetcar system were incorporated into the seawall.
In 2010 and 2011, two portions of the Seawall, Stanley Park (near Second Beach) and English Bay (near Sunset Beach), were renewed to address ongoing concerns with erosion.
With deep foundations and renewed surfacing, the new Seawall is built to withstand the tides for many years to come.
The seawall route has continued to expand, so that a continuous, mostly seaside, path for pedestrians, cyclists, and inline skaters now extends for a total of 22 kilometres. Starting from Coal Harbour, it winds around Stanley Park, along Sunset Beach, around False Creek, past the Burrard Street Bridge, through Vanier Park, and finishes off at Kitsilano Beach Park.
The Stanley Park section of the seawall is 8.8 kilometres (5 miles) in length. The seawall is used by more than 2,500,000 people every year. Park visitors walk, bike, roll, and fish on the seawall.
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Permission to Use photo.
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18 Sep 2014
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Vancouver-urgent stock request!
Hi Ted,
My name is Jessie Adler, I'm the photo editor at Hemispheres magazine, United's in-flight magazine. I found a photo of yours on Flickr and I would like to use it in the November issue of our magazine, in a story called Three Perfect Days: Vancouver. I am hoping that you will grant me permission to use it, and that you can send me the high res, unwatermarked image. We will credit you and can offer $50 for usage. Please let mek now if you can help! My work email is jessie.adler@ink-global.com and my number is 347.294.1206.
Thank you!
Jessie
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Permission to use photo.
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03 May 2016
Trans Canada Trail / Le sentier Transcanadien
Hi Ted,
I work with the Trans Canada Trail and we are putting together the May issue of our monthly e-newsletter, Trail Talk. This bulletin goes out to roughly 15,000 recipients made up of donors and TCT supporters.
I was wondering if you would give us permission to use the photo:
We would of course include your photo credit. It is for non-commercial use and we are a registered not-for-profit organization.
Thanks for your consideration!
Christina
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Permission to use photo
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07 Jun 2919
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On Jun 7, 2019, at 13:45, Jesse Firempong wrote:
Hi Ted,
Jesse from Greenpeace Canada here. I hope this email finds you well.
I was interested in licensing this photo I came across on Flickr for one of our campaigns highlighting the impacts of extreme weather and climate change in Vancouver. Is it available to license/use? We want to show the types of weather impacts climate change will make worse/more frequent.
We'd also be interested in other photos of floods or wildfire smoke in the city, if you happen to have them.
Thank so much and have a wonderful weekend!
Very best,
Jesse
I shot this on what would have been Paul Caponigro's 92nd birthday, and less than a month after we lost him. I've felt his influence heavily the last five years, and his passing has weighed on me.
I don't feel this particular shot is very reminiscent of him, but he was on my mind while I was out shooting that evening, and it made me look that little bit harder for what I could find within the scenes. In this one I was struck by how the tumbling shapes in the shadows seemed to reflect my own feelings in the moment, about the end of my year, losses, the passage of the holidays, that particular night out alone amongst the celebratory crowds, and the current state of the world. And that aspect is rather Paul.
This night was also notable to me because I felt myself starting to see more naturally again. I've struggled creatively the last year or more, but was encouraged this night by the realization that I was picking up on visual elements better and placing them with less conscious effort. I was tapping into my lost flame of recognition a little.
Desert plant on the embarcadero
Morro Bay, CA | December 7, 2024
Fuji X-Pro2 • Voigtländer Macro Apo-Ultron 35mm ƒ/2
SOOC, custom Acros.
41/365
Realizing something about yourself is easy, changing it is hard. But that is what I have intended to do. Change myself. I have finally realized what I am doing to myself now, it is not good. I don't want to say too much about it, but it is mostly about procrastinating waay to much. That will ruin most things, including photography.
The last week now that I have had vacation, most of my days have been like this; go to bed at 4 o'clock in the morning, wake up at 1 o'clock the day after, watch desperate housewives for the next 4 hours, eating dinner THEN go out shooting. And it just does not work this way anymore. I realized that today, because I wanted to shoot the sunset, so I hurried up just to find out the sun had already set. Then I found myself in great frustration thinking WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW?! I ended up trying to take some self portraits, then I went to the water and I bathed with a dress. Theeen, finally.. This. Done. Shooted at midnight. I do not want to do this with myself anymore. I am making the 365 way harder than it really is.
(sorry about this long boring description)
That moment when you realize that the woman reflecting in the mirror at Target is actually you!
_________________________
¡El momento en que te percatas de que la mujer que se refleja en los espejos en Target, eres tú!
Tigig hung around near the camp every day and night, desperately hoping Anniak remembers her. She didn't know how many years had passed, and she looked to her ancestors in the aurora and prayed for an answer.
'How do I help Anniak remember?' Tigig sobbed.
She tried to console herself in the realization she only truly remembered herself a day ago. The memories of that past life came flooding back as soon as she sensed Anniak's aurora spark. What if the same had happened to Anniak? Her body looked completely different, and much older than the human girl she first met. Had so much time passed that Anniak was in another life too?
Tigig was crying so long she had to find a place out of earshot of polar bears and those humans by the ships. She stood on a boulder, her paws cold, and felt the curtains of aurora brush her fur. Her arctic fox ancestors did a dance of time.
'Four . . . Eight . . . Four . . . Sixteen,' Tigig said, counting the beats on her claws and paws.
She was thankful Mother fox showed her how to count. A cold chill ran down her spine like water dripping from an icicle. No wonder the humans and their clothes and ships looked so different. Over five hundred winters had passed since she made the promise.
What had she done in all that time? Where had she been? Where had Anniak been? But first she had to help Anniak remember. Her ancestors suddenly gave the answer. It was as clear as those red berries shining on the bush.
She bit off a small twig with three red berries, then ran to the Inuit village and sniffed out Anniak's scent. The scent was different too. Not quite how Tigig remembered, but it was there. She found the tent and wriggled under the seal-skin flap.
'Anniak!' she said.
Anniak startled, then at once turned. Tigig dropped the red berry twig at Anniak's feet.
'Please remember,' Tigig cried.
There was a familiar shine in Anniak's eyes. In time with her ancestors, Tigig danced the dance from when they first met. She danced the polar bear and Eric. She danced the rhythm that always made Anniak's smile. She danced the sea-voyage from her home to Vinland.
'Tigig?' Anniak shaped the name in her mouth. 'It is Tigig.'
'Yes, I'm here as I promised,' Tigig said, feeling relieved.
'Tigig. Tigig!' Anniak knelt and gave Tigig a warm hug.
But then Anniak let out whole new cry Tigig had only heard a human female make once before. She sensed the unborn baby within Anniak move. Eric had woken, and he was trying to get out.
Immediately an older woman burst into the tent. Tigig barely had enough time to get out unseen. Other humans gathered outside, all with a gleam in their eyes.
Hours passed, and it wasn't until the next day that Tigig finally heard the cries of a baby human. Everyone cheered joyously, but there was still that sense of unease in the camp.
'Arnaq, what shall we name him?' said a man inside the tent.
Tigig pricked her ears, waiting for Anniak to say the boy's name was Eric. Of course he was Eric. She'd know that aurora spark anywhere.
'Nutaaq,' said Anniak in a voice that sounded like Arnaq's. 'His name is Nutaaq.'
Anniak was just like Mother fox, always there for her baby, always there to protect him. Nutaaq-Eric was like a little fox kitten himself, bundled up in fur and sleeping cozily. Sometimes he'd wake screaming and Anniak had to shush him to sleep. He did that a lot. Especially at night. And Tigig saw Anniak and the father were tired.
Tigig was happy for Anniak, but felt sadness too. Just as Anniak began to remember, the baby came into her life. She was sure Eric had been waiting for that moment. It was just the kind of thing he might do. It made her laugh a little fox laugh.
Weeks passed and the days lengthened. Soon there would be just one long day where the sun grazed the horizon. A new scent drifted over the wilderness that set a twist in Tigig's stomach. It smelled of narwhal and blood, and was accompanied by the cries of thousands of gulls.
Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. The scent had attracted polar bears, but even they hunched sorrowfully in mourning. What could have happened that caused all the bears and gulls to behave like that? Tigig had to find out. She had to see what was happening.
She glanced to Anniak's tent. The boy had just been fed and was now sleeping, so Tigig had to be fast. She ran to the rocky beach, the scent of blood so strong it clung to the back of her throat.
The sight made Tigig cry out. Her whimpers joined the sorrow of the gulls and bears. The pod of narwhals that Anniak loved were now decayed bodies washed up on the shore. The sea was pink with blood.
'The humans did this,' a gull squawked.
Tigig burst into tears, and not for the first or last time. She was relieved Anniak didn't have to see this. Those beautiful, magical narwhals now rotting on the beach. The humans hadn't even hunted them for meat. The only part of the narwhal the humans took were those long slender horns.
Tigig cried for days. How could she tell Anniak this terrible thing had happened? She knew which humans had done this. The scent trail led to those ships at the village.
Maybe that's why Nutaaq-Eric was crying all the time. He felt the sorrow, and together he and Tigig wept for the souls of the narwhal. They swam across the sky now, their magical horns pointing to the dancing aurora.
Why were humans so cruel? Why did she and her ancestors have to guide them? Tigig longed to get away from here, to return to her den and those red berries. She missed the warmth of Mother fox and the playful dance of her siblings. They were such happier times, when she didn't have to worry about humans cutting the horns off narwhal.
The other animals were scared too. The next day, a gull cried out about the dead bears on the glacier.
'Skinned alive for their fur!' the gull screamed, then flew off.
Tigig didn't see the skinned carcasses and the blood in the snow. She didn't know what to do, other than stay close to Anniak and Eric. It seemed they were the only humans that understood.
'What else can these ship humans take?' Tigig cried to the aurora. 'They've taken the narwhal horns and the bear skins and the seals and the fish. They've burned the forests for their cities and eaten all the geese. There's nothing left now. They have to leave soon.'
Her ears pricked to the march of human feet. Tigig sensed the danger before she opened her eyes. She hopped up on a boulder and saw a herd of men marching from their ships. They carried long pointed spears, had swords at their belts, and bore a new type of weapon Tigig had never seen before.
She didn't know the human name for them. Just these rods threw pellets in a loud deafening thunder. All the animals scattered, and the humans in the Inuit village called to each other in alarm. The men gathered spears and knifes while the women and children fled.
Tigig knew the men were no match, and she knew they were only standing bravely to allow their families to escape. She had to stick close to Anniak and Eric no matter what. She had to lead them to safety.
The army was closing in from two directions, cutting off those who had tried to flee. There were clashes of metal on metal and pellets rained down in a relentless thunder. Anniak's people fell like the leaves in autumn, their bodies dead and lifeless as the narwhal on the beach.
It was all happening so fast. The smell from those rods stung her eyes and throat. Tigig managed to get Anniak's attention, and quickly led them away. She knew a place to hide. The only place Tigig felt sure must be safe. Mother fox would know what to do.
'For queen and country!' the men with the thunder rods sang.
Tigig wondered how their queen would truly feel if she knew how those men behaved. Or maybe their queen was just like them? All that mattered now was to protect Anniak and her baby. She led human mother and child across the wilderness, the weak sun on their hair and fur, the sound of thunder booming from the coast. The stench of blood and sulphur everywhere.
'Mother!' Tigig cried out.
Mother didn't answer. The den smelled like Mother, but carried that heavy scent of blood. Anniak and Eric both cried with her. The scent was enough to know Mother fox was dead.
They cried and cried together. Tigig for her mother and siblings. Anniak and Eric for their family. But their cries echoed and the soldiers and pirates were near. She didn't have time to wipe away her tears. The men from the ships were on them in a thunderclap.
Tigig snarled her best snarl. The men had seized Anniak and Eric. The look of horror on Anniak's face as they bound her wrists filled Tigig with so much rage – she wanted to tear out the men's throats and leave their bodies as they had left the narwhal.
Tigig though was not a killer. She only hunted for food. She felt rope and a wooden box close around her, and heard the men's laughter.
'What shall we do with this white fox?' said one that smelled of narwhal blood.
'Take it to Captain Frobisher with our two prisoners. This fox will make a fine exhibit in the zoo.'
Snuggles from Juniper, Cashew and Labneh.
Then comes the frustrating realization that no matter how long life endures, no matter how many experiences are muddled through in this existence, you may never really be able to answer the question…..
Who am I?
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdqY0sRvidc
Because the answer....
Like the seasons, constantly, subtly, inevitably changes.
And who it is you are today, is not the same person you will be tomorrow.
~ Richelle E. Goodrich , Eena, The Dawn and Rescue
© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.
52 Weeks of 2020
Week No. 50: Local Tradition
Category: Creative
Flickr Lounge “Season's Greetings"
Every year the Self Realization Fellowship in Encinitas decorates for Christmas. It is a beautiful place and all decked out, it is a gorgeous sight to behold.
My images are posted here for your enjoyment only. All rights are reserved. Please contact me through flickr if you are interested in using one of my images for any reason.
There are certain things, or many things in life that when captured on a photograph, hold a significant meaning but the person witnessing that moment feels the true feeling surrounding that particular event.
A stick cracked to my left, sounding like a deafening yell in the serene silence of the forest.
I stopped, holding absolutely still, and was rewarded with the heart-warming sight of a doe and her calf making their way through the woods.
Smiling, I continued on my way after they passed, heading more or less in the vague direction of Durrough.
I had ditched the wagon several miles and two nights back, after coming to the realization that if someone was hunting me, it probably wasn’t the best idea to travel out in the open, driving a conspicuous wagon. Now, I was on foot, going through some of the more difficult, less traveled paths through the eastern-most portion of the Wandering Woods. It would take longer to reach my destination, but it would also draw less attention to myself, thus making it worth the longer journey.
Squaring my shoulders, I forged onwards.
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The next morning,
I awoke to something sharp jabbing into my back from beneath my bedroll. Groaning, I rolled over, and extracted……a rock.
Muttering in disgust, I threw the rock aside, and groggily disentangled myself from my cloak, which had been serving as my blanket, climbing to my feet with an audible cracking of joints.
“Well,” I said to no-one in particular, “Time to start the day I guess.”
I had killed a small rabbit with my crossbow last night, and I cooked him up now, along with a few edible greens I found near my campsite.
After breakfast, I packed up my bedroll, checked to make sure I still had that sealed letter, gathered my things, and kicked out the fire.
Then, I headed off in the same direction as yesterday. I estimated I only had another day at most before I reached Durrough. Fortified by this, (as well as that rabbit), I set off for another day of hiking.
Little did I know today was not going to be like the days before it.
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A few hours later, I stopped for a rest, and possibly lunch, if I could find some game large enough to make a meal out of.
Making sure my crossbow was loaded, I began to stealthily advance through the woods, keeping a sharp eye out for prey. I spotted a couple of squirrels, but neither one was large enough to warrant taking a shot at.
Watching the second one run off, I detected movement out of the corner of my eye. Moving slowly, so as not to scare whatever it was, I turned towards the spot I saw movement from.
Expecting to find a deer, or even better, a wild hog, I was shocked to discover it was a BEAR!
I froze. The bear was staring right at me, not moving either.
As the seconds dragged on in our stand-off, I realized this wasn’t just any bear, it was a grizzly bear!
And to make matters worse, it was a very hungry-looking grizzly bear.
Keeping my eyes fixed on the bear, I began to slowly back away, taking micro-steps so as not to startle it into action. After a few steps, the bear began to move forward, as I moved back.
That was definitely not what I wanted the bear to do, and I realized this was not going to end peacefully.
Just as I was coming to this conclusion, the bear charged.
Given less then a second to react, I dropped and rolled to the side, feeling a rush of air as the bear breezed by. Rolling to my feet, I saw the bear stop and start to turn around, for another go at me. Pre-empting this, I turned and ran, as fast as my legs would carry me, hearing the bear charging up behind me.
Now, I know that everyone says the stupidest thing you can do when facing a bear is run, but A; not everyone is me, and B; I wasn’t trying to outrun the bear, I just needed a few seconds to get my shot, pardon the pun.
As I ran, I checked hastily that my crossbow was still loaded, and, finding it was, judged that the bear was too caught up in chasing me to slow down or avoid this, whipped around, bringing the crossbow to my shoulder, sighted, and pulled the trigger.
The bolt flew seemingly in slow motion, as the bear charged at me, straight into the grizzly’s right eye, killing him instantly.
The bear’s momentum kept his body moving forward, even as it started to hit the ground, forcing me to quickly step to the side, to avoid getting pinned as the corpse slid to a stop where I had been standing moments before.
I staggered against a nearby tree, sliding to the ground with my back against the trunk, staring at the bear’s corpse, feeling the adrenaline from my near-death experience pumping through my veins, and my breath coming in ragged bursts.
It was then, sitting on forest floor, waiting for my body to clam down, that the sound of rushing water penetrated my senses. I got up, and, turning around, surveyed my surroundings, which I hadn’t even registered yet.
My jaw dropped.
Hardly believing my eyes, I stepped out of the tree line.
I was on the bank of a river, that forked around the spit of land I was standing on. Both ends of the river wound away through the trees.
Directly across from me was the source of this river;
A magnificent (although not very large) waterfall, pouring majestically down the side of sheer rock face. The sound of it filled the air, which was the sound I had noticed minutes ago.
The rock face the waterfall poured over continued beyond to the right, slowly curving outward.
A huge old oak tree grew near this face, on the opposite bank. Over on my side, a large pile of boulders sat jumbled to my right, a tree growing up from their midst.
The whole area was overflowing with bright colors and abundant flora and fauna.
Looking around, I felt at peace for the first time in several days.
Putting down my crossbow, I flopped in the grass with a grateful sigh, content just to lay there in the soft grass for awhile.
As I lay there, I tried to come up with a suitable name for this hidden gem of the forest. Nothing I tried sounded right, and it wasn’t until I sat up and took another look at the place that the perfect name popped into my head.
“Heaven’s Lagoon,” I said out loud, trying it out. It fit perfectly.
It was then, as I was sitting there, enjoying the feeling of having this beautiful place all to myself, plus the fact I had just named it, when I noticed something I had missed before. Or maybe it hadn’t been there before, because I never missed anything.
Almost directly across from me was a cave.
As I stared at it, trying to figure out why I hadn’t seen it the first time I looked over there, I began to feel a strange sensation. It felt like the cave was calling to me, inviting and drawing me in.
That should have been more than enough warning to not go in the cave, but I had never been able to resist something like this.
So, curiosity getting the better of me, I got up, picking up my crossbow on the way, and moved to the edge of the bank, looking for a way across.
Finding it, I went over to the boulder pile, climbed up on the largest one, and, balancing carefully, hopped to a rock in the middle of the river, then over to the far bank, right in front of the cave.
Having reached my goal, I stopped to examine the cave opening. It was a little over six feet high, irregularly shaped. Other than that, there was nothing to suggest it was anything other then a normal cave. Anything besides that the tugging feeling in my gut had gotten stronger.
Fashioning a makeshift torch from a tree branch and some spare cloth I kept in a pocket, I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Instantly I was hit with a prickling sensation, a magic ward being tripped.
Damn, I thought, and then the cave walls disappeared.
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I am standing in the middle of a glade, surrounded by ages-old oak trees. A gentle breeze blows through, swirling leaves around, and tousling my hair. The afternoon sun shines down through the leaves, casting a golden light over everything. It would be the perfect day, if it weren’t for what I knew was about to happen.
Across the glade from me, shock mixed with horror etched on his face, stands my best friend, Trevor Mortlen. He has a hunting spear in one hand, as do I. Mine has the blood of a deer on the tip.
“S-Skye,” the other says, “What-how?”
At first, I am not quite sure what he is trying to say, then it dawns on me: He saw what I did, how I drew the spear back to me from the deer, twelve feet away, clear across the glade.
“Trevor,” I say calmly, forcing myself to look him in the eyes, “There’s something I’ve never told you about myself. I think it’s time I rectified that.”
I see the the hurt and fear in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Skye, but it’s too late for that. You’re not who I thought you were.” The other says, and begins to back away.
Panic starts to take told of me. I know how this ends. I know because I have relived this moment in my mind so many times, always trying to find an ending different than the one I know is about to happen, never being successful.
“Trevor,” I hear myself say, “Please, you must listen to me. It’s not what you think. I can explain everything, if you just let me.”
My plea falls on deaf ears.
“I’m sorry Skye,” he says again. “I don’t trust you anymore. You’re not someone who should be free to cause harm.”
Each word is like a dagger to my heart. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. This couldn’t be my Trev, the very best friend I had in this world. The person who meant so much to me.
“Please, “ I begged, tears beginning to blur my vision, “Trev, don’t do this.”
He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.
“I don’t want to. But I have to. I don’t know you anymore Skye.” And he turned away, heading out of the glade, bound for the sheriff’s office in our village.
I was torn apart in that moment, as Trevor turned his back on me. I knew if he reached the sheriff, my life, my parent’s life, maybe even my cousin’s lives, would be ruined, if not over completely.
There was only one way to stop this.
Only one way to ensure the safety of myself and my family.
Screaming my fury at the unfairness and helplessness of my situation, I throw the spear at my love’s back.
I could feel the scene beginning to change. Afraid of what I would be forced to relive next, I pushed against the memories, tearing myself free.
“NNNOOOOO!”
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And then I was back in the real world, still standing in the same spot. My legs collapsed beneath me, and I barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor.
Lifting my torch, I was able to clearly see now that the cave was man-made, probably by some old wizard with elemental powers, which would also explain the ward guarding the entrance.
Finding my mind starting to drift back to the memory that had been triggered, I forced myself to redirect, settling on the the fact that the tugging in my gut hadn’t lessened any, despite the ordeal I had just gone through.
Getting to my feet, crossbow in one hand, torch in the other, I cleared away my jumbled thoughts, and focused solely on the feeling.
It was definitely coming from deeper inside the cave, so despite my growing reservations, I allowed myself to be led into the bowels of the earth, winding downward, past branch tunnels and rooms, drawn ever deeper by the steadily increasing tugging, til' finally, I arrived at the end of the tunnel. Before me was an absolutely ancient oaken door, fastened into the rock via some very rusty iron hinges. The source of the tugging sensation was on the other side of that door, I was sure of it.
Studying the four rusty hinges, I set down my crossbow and torch, stretched out my hands, palms outward, and concentrated.
A second later, the hinges tore free of the rock and zoomed into my hands.
Smiling, I dropped the hinges on the ground, and, retrieving my torch and crossbow, kicked down the old door.
Beyond, the room inside was circular, about twelve feet in each direction, walls, floor, and roof all made of carved stone. Carved into the floor, all around the edge of the room, were strange runes, in a foreign language I didn’t understand. But that wasn’t what drew my attention the second I stepped into the room, nor was it the faded mural-like pattern scrawled across the back wall.
It was the perfectly symmetrical pedestal, placed in the exact center of the room, with a second ring of runes around it’s base.
Atop the pedestal sat………..a gleaming, perfectly polished nautilus shell.
I could instantly tell the tugging sensation was originating from the mysterious shell.
Why, I didn’t yet know.
I slowly approached the pedestal, as if in a trance, and reaching out, picked up the shell.
Instantly the tugging sensation disappeared. I turned the shell over in my hands, studying it. Other then being extra shiny, it didn’t appear any different than any other nautilus shell.
“So what caused the tugging feeling?” I asked into the silence, not really expecting an answer.
But I got one.
A faint sound became discernible in the room, and it seemed to be coming from the shell in my hand.
Lifting it to my ear cautiously, I was surprised to hear the sound of waves, mixed with the chirping of birds, (though I couldn’t tell what species they were from), along with other sounds I didn’t recognize. This close to my face, I noticed for the first time there was something different about this shell.
The stripes on the nautilus were translucent, and in the one closest to me, I could faintly see a beach, made of white sand.
I blinked, and the image was gone.
Shaking my head to clear it, thinking maybe I had imagined it, I turned away from the pedestal, placing the shell in a pocket on my belt.
It was then I realized, without the tugging feeling leading me, I had no idea where I was.
I was lost down here, in this maze of tunnels.
As this set in, my shadow flickered, and disappeared, as the room went dark.
My torch had just gone out.
————————————
Previous Chronicle stories start here.
(TMS)Ushuaia Luxury JPS
The most beautiful and detailed (TMS)Ushuaia ever seen on Second Life.Interiors and exteriors completely redesigned.A lot of working hours were needed to make this boat and about 50 textures have been applied.
Reflections, luminosity and alpha totally revised, but you do not have to worry because to apply all this you will have to do only one simple operation:
drag a script from the inventory to over your Ushuaia. Just a simple mouse movement and your new boat will be ready to sail in the Linden seas. ⛵⛵⛵
To see this : maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Faracity/163/251/25
Marketplace : marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Texture-Ushuaia-Luxury-JPS/1...
A long time ago in a feudal system far, far away…
A group of strange beings appeared on the planet talking about the coming of the judgement day.
The news reached one of the most influent daimyo but at first Lord Vader thought they were just a couple of annoying preachers.
He knows that kind pretty well and he usually “dispatch” them quickly when they knock at his fortress’ door but they rarely are something more serious than a momentary annoyance (Force chocking them always takes few seconds, after all lol ) and he had more pressing matter than dealing with door-to-door sellers of ideologies.
However these beings proved to be different. They appear to be synthetic lifeforms of the most aggressive kind and they started to kill those who, well, don’t share their point of view. The feudal lord can’t tolerate it. This is his dominion, after all
They are too powerful for his warriors and he decided to take care of them in person.
He meets the first of them in the outskirts of a village’s ruins. The creature starts to talk about the incoming judgment day but before he has a chance to complete its speech, Vader Force pulls the invader toward him and impales the synthetic body with his Lightsaber (or Light-Katana, if you prefer :) )
“Your final judgment comes today” He laconically says, ending the machine killer’s life.
This is my first photo featuring the Samurai Darth Vader action figure from Bandai.
The action figure is amazing like the Samurai Boba Fett one.
This the most recent version of the Samurai Darth Vader Action Figure from Tamashii Nations Movie Realization series and it’s officially called Samurai Taisho (general) Darth Vader Death Star Armor.
I hope you like the “debut” of Samurai Vader in this photo :)
I made a little "continuity error" here, since I forgot to remove Vader's Lightsaber hilt from his belt. Since he is using it the lightsaber shouldn't be on his belt. When I realized it the figures where already in the position and I didn't want to risk to move them. The positive aspect is the photo now shows the details of Vader Lightsaber Japanese hilt :)
The enemy is a Terminator 2 Endoskeleton figure I found on clearance at a trusted local store :)
May the Force be with You :)
The realization set's in that you must live in a relatively remote area when a scene like this is roughly 15 miles from your home.
''A UFO has crashed on earth; strange pink creatures 'ALIENS' are appearing on the street.......Will you run and hide? Call the police? or will you come out to play?''
Does Oxygen work for them? How will they survive for breathing, if there is no Oxygen outside of our planet?!!
UFO= Unidentified Flying Object
LJUD group: The INVASION. This is a Slovenian performing group mainly focused on performing in public spaces.
Event: Stockholm Kultur Festival (16 -21 August), 2011 including Youth Festival (Ung 08)
See other pictures in Youtube: youtu.be/KBezfYTXbZY
Today (13-18 August), this year Stockholm Kultur Festival has just started. I am sharing some pictures from 2011 festival. I realize that I don't have that much pictures from street and event photography in my photostream!!! So trying to have some balances :)
My thanks to Arindam Raha for his primate pic via Pexels. A big banana to aka Tman for his selfie and silliness. All transformations via Juxtaposer and Snapseed apps
Realization hits her and she falls to the ground, her face in her hands, her heart torn to pieces, memories racing through her mind, the early morning snuggles, the breakfast in bed, late night movie dates, now all of that was gone, there was no fixing things , no winning her back now.
Self-Realization Fellowship Temple on Sunset Blvd in East Hollywood. (Established by Paramahansa Yogananda in 1942.)
On a feudal world a calamity is spreading from one village to another. Jar Jar Binks is on the loose and his clumsiness is bringing destruction whenever he goes.
Everything the poor villagers tried to stop him was doomed to failure. Shielded by his unbelievable luck the Clumsy Creature was unstoppable.
In order to stop such plague the local lords hired a legendary Bounty Hunter; so skilled not even Jar Jar’s luck can match him.
In fact he quickly takes care of the annoying creature.
Jar Jar: “Yousa cannot kill mesa! Mesa have plot armor!”
Boba Fett: “Maybe yes or maybe not. But I can hurt you a lot and I’m sure the villagers will enjoy that so much!”
Jar Jar: “Ohi, Ohi!"
The action figure is the Bandai “Samurai Version” of Boba Fett. Actually the full name of that series of Samurai inspired figures (they also have Vader, Stormtroopers and Royal Guard) is Bandai Tamashii Nations Movie Realization and Boba is depicted in the Ronin role.
I’m mostly a Lego fan and so my expertise on actions figures may not be great but that Boba Fett action figure is amazing. A bit expensive for its size to be honest, but it’s epic. They managed to merge the original Star Wars concept with the ancient Japanese style and keep it close to iconic Boba’s look. Truly impressive :)
Like I always say, no real hate intended towards characters, creators of characters etc. This is just a parody scene :)
May the Force be with You :)
The Duel of the Figures continues ( you can find the previous part here: )
It’s not battle of Jedi vs Sith, it’s not a battle of Good vs Evil, it’s a battle of coolness as the high quality “Samurai” Darth Vader action figure fights against a “mass market” version of Kit Fisto.
Continues from part 2: www.flickr.com/photos/133750589@N08/25370023110/in/photos...
You can find the whole series (to be completed soon) here: www.flickr.com/photos/133750589@N08/albums/72157665467242701
Vader Force lifts his opponent and grabs him. He slams against the wall of the nearby structure.
Vader: “There is more than mass revenue [a reference to their previous dialogue] Collectibles are works of art and quality does matter! Figures like you are a curse for the world of Collectibles!”
To be continued…
No action figure has been harmed during the making of this photo; this is just a simulation of violence/combat etc, etc :) It’s obvious (they are just toys after all :) ) but nowadays a little disclaimer does not hurt lol :)
Samurai Vader is the Bandai Tamashii Nations Movie Realization Samurai Taisho [General] Darth Vader, Death Star Armor action figure :)
Fisto figure lacks his right arm because he lost in the previous image.
This is one of the problems of making a series of photo stories. There are images that are essential to the narration and in the whole story’s context they make sense and appear “in the perfect place”; however if you look at them alone they don’t seem to tell a lot.
I think this photo may be an example of this.
Anyway, I hope you still like it :)
May the Force be with You :)
There are some moments in your life, when you feel like you're in the exact path you should be. It's not a blatant or obvious moment; it's more like a feeling that creeps up your neck, that fills you with confidence and joy in what you're doing.
For a while, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I went from course (major) to course, got one BA and two post-grads in different fields, until I fell on photography. And when I thought about it, when I put the possibility of becoming a professional photographer on the table, I realized that photography is one of the few things that has always been there. Every year, on my birthday or christmas, I would get a camera. I would always take photos, I'd do that when I was bored, or sad or lonely. And it was so natural that I didn't even realize.
I sort of had the day to myself, today. I went to my dad's boat with him and my cousin, and I just sat and read all day. Sontag. And I thought about a whole lot of things, too. When we were driving back and I had my head halfway out of the window, the wind pushing against my skin and the music loud in my ears, I had that realization that I mentioned a couple of paragraphs ago. I felt like I might turn the world around, I might work at McDonalds or Zara or whatever to keep myself, but someway, somehow, I'll always be a photographer first. And an artist, second. It will always be about art. Like the good people say, "the opposite of war isn't peace: it's creation!"
----
How many of you would be interested in a print give away? I've been thinking about doing it for a while, what do you think?
When getting an idea in your head, it won’t let you go at times. If so, it slowly but surely takes over your thoughts and settles in. After a while, such a view might become a feasible venture.
By planing its realization, one embarks on a journey characterized by all sorts of highs and lows: Some things will turn out great while other approaches prove useless, which means that one needs to start over again.
As patience is a high virtue, this path is also a test of whether the initial idea can assert itself in reality. If one makes it to this final goal, the courage it took to come there will be richly rewarded.
While observing this achievement, joy, relief, and satisfaction compensate for all the intense efforts that vigorously took place. Soon after, one realizes that the heavy load which accompanied this journey slowly falls off the shoulders, and that lightness spreads around.
So many of my favorite moments probably look like nothing. But I think I like that they’re not understood. For this, you had to be there. And I'm so glad you were. #sweeterpoetry || Patagonia, Argentina ||
It is crucial to understand that when we die, it is only the death of the human body; the spirit (our soul) lives on. When we die our soul loses its physical connection with the world which we know when we are alive.
Everything we do in this life, we should do with the conscious awareness that the consequences of every action will carry on after we leave this world; that our soul will bear the burden of it.
With this thought should come a realization; what is the purpose for us to be in this world!
Inner peace and happiness actually comes from a clear conscience which keeps our soul at peace!
Let me elaborate this point with an example – If we help someone in times of need, or give food to the poor, these actions will not result in any monetary gain, but these actions will fulfill us at a spiritual level because our soul will reap the rewards of these actions, even after our exit from this life. On the other hand if we cheat or steal money from someone, this action might result in a temporary gain of a monetary benefit, but will lead to a guilty conscience - which is the unrest of our soul. It is our soul which will have to face the consequences of these deeds.
So whatever we do in life, please do keep in mind that every action will result in a positive or negative reaction from our soul. So if you truly want to create a life full of inner peace and happiness, be fair with others, keep your word, and be kind and generous. This approach to life will rid us of corruption and dishonesty & will steer our lives in the direction of success and prosperity.
Maryam Arif
Today I had a realization that went something like this - oh crap I'm leaving thursday and I need to get a photo in now or i'll have to skip a week. So this was sort of last minute. I had no lighting in my room and my walls looked a horrible neon shade in all the pictures I took, so I threw on the 'antique light' preset on LR. I test how that preset looks on most photos that I import into LR and I love it. I don't use it too often. But I am really enjoying it with the tinsel photos :P
Man, Perry's been on a roll lately! This was not easy with him, I made him balance his ass on the stool again, and pose with the dreaded tinsel. Such drama. But it took just a few shots to give a good one, so the torture was short lived and Per survived.
വരണ്ടുണങ്ങിയ മണ്ണില് ഒരായിരം പരുത്തിച്ചെടികളിലൊന്നില് എന്റെ ആത്മാവ് കുടികൊണ്ടു. പരുത്തികള് പൂത്ത് കായ്ച്ചപ്പോള് അവിടെയായിരുന്നു ഞാന്. വെളിച്ചം എന്റെ കണ്ണുകളില് ജന്മ വേദനയോടെ പിറവികൊണ്ടു. രാവിന്റെ നിറഭേദം മാത്രമാണ് പകലെന്നും അത് ചമക്കുന്നതൊരേയൊരു സൂര്യനാണെന്നും മനസിലക്കിയപ്പോഴേക്കും അമ്മയുമായുള്ള പൊക്കിള്ക്കൊടി ബന്ധം മുറിക്കാന് ഞാന് തയ്യാറായിരുന്നു. വിളവെടുപ്പിന്റെ വേദനയിലും നിറങ്ങളിലേക്കുള്ള മോക്ഷമാണിതെന്ന് അമ്മമാര് ഞങ്ങളുടെ കാതുകളിലോതി.
യാത്രകള്, ഇരുട്ട്, വേദന. ഞങ്ങളെല്ലാം വേര്തിരിക്കപ്പെട്ടു. വിധി നിര്ണയിക്കുന്നവന്റെ നെയ്ത്തുശാലകളില് ഞാന് വെറുമൊരു തൂവെള്ള തുണിയായി രൂപപ്പെട്ടു. നിറങ്ങളില്ല. സ്വപ്നങ്ങള് മാത്രം. വീണ്ടും യാത്രകള്, ഇരുട്ടറകള്. ഞങ്ങളില് ചിലര് നിറങ്ങളന്വേഷിച്ചും ചിലര് ലക്ഷ്യബോധമില്ലാതെയും യാത്രയായി. വേദനിച്ചെങ്കിലും നാളെയുടെ നിറച്ചാര്ത്തിനേക്കുറിച്ച്, ഞങ്ങളിലെ ഒരായിരം വര്ണങ്ങളെക്കുറിച്ചോര്ത്ത് സന്തോഷിച്ചു. തപസ്യ തുടരവേ ഒരു നാള് അരിച്ചെത്തിയ വെളിച്ചം അറിയിച്ചു - നിങ്ങള് നിത്യ ചൈതന്യത്തിനു മുന്പില് തിരിനാളങ്ങളാവേണ്ടവരാണ്. അതാണത്രേ ഞങ്ങള് നിറങ്ങളുടെ വിഷങ്ങളില്ലാതെ സ്ര്യഷ്ടിക്കപ്പെട്ടത്. ആ നുറുങ്ങുവെട്ടം ഞങ്ങളിപ്പോലൊരുവന്റെ സന്തതിയാണത്രേ!
വെളുപ്പിന്റെ നൈര്മലയതയേക്കാല് നിറങ്ങളാണ് നല്ലതെന്ന് പഴകിചെളിപുരണ്ടവരപ്പോഴും മൊഴിഞ്ഞു. നിറങ്ങളുടെ മാലിന്യം തങ്ങളിലെ കറകളെ താല്ക്കാലികമായെങ്കിലും മറയ്ക്കുമെന്ന വ്യാമോഹം ! ചിലരത് കേട്ട് സംശയാലുക്കളായി. ഒരു ദിനം എല്ലിച്ച രണ്ടുകരങ്ങളെന്നെ കോരിയെടുത്ത് ഒരു പഴകിയ ദണ്ഡില് ചുറ്റി, നറുമണമുള്ള എണ്ണയില് മുക്കി എന്നിലേക്ക് അഗ്നി പകര്ന്നു. ചൂട്, വേദന. ശ്വാസം നിലയ്ക്കുന്നത് പോലെ. ഒരുമാത്രകഴിഞ്ഞ് ഇറുക്കിയടച്ച
കണ്ണുകള് തുറന്നപ്പോള് വേദനയില്ല, ഉഷ്ണമില്ല എങ്ങും പ്രശാന്തതമാത്രം. നിറങ്ങളല്ല ഈ പ്രശാന്തതയിലാണ് മോക്ഷമെന്ന തിരിച്ചറിവ്. കത്തിജ്വലിച്ച് നിത്യതയിലലിഞ്ഞ് ചേരുന്നതാണ് മോക്ഷമെന്ന തിരിച്ചറിവ്.ഞാന് രാവിനെക്കിറിമുറിച്ച്, ഒരു കൊച്ചു സൂര്യനായി, നനുത്ത കാറ്റുകളോട് മല്ലടിച്ച് ജ്വലിച്ചു നിന്നു.
ഞാന്. ഞാന്. ഞാന്. ഞാന് മാത്രം. ഇന്നു ഞാന് എന്നെയറിയുന്നു. പക്ഷെ എന്റെ ഉടപ്പിറപ്പുകള്ക്ക് അവരെന്തെന്നറിയാന് കഴിയാത്തിടത്തോളം ഞാന് വെറും സ്വാര്ത്നത്രേ. ഈ വെളിച്ചം എല്ലാവരിലേക്കും പകര്ന്നു നല്കേണ്ടിയിരിക്കുന്നു. ഒരു തീപ്പന്തമായി, വഴി കാട്ടിയായി കത്തിജ്വലിച്ചമരും മുന്പ് എന്റെ തിരിച്ചറിവുകള് ഞാന് അവരിലേക്ക് പകര്ന്ന് നല്കും.
അന്ന് പതിവുപോലെ കാലം മുറുക്കിത്തുപ്പിച്ചുമപ്പിച്ച ഒരു സന്ധ്യയിലേക്ക് ഞാന് കണ്ണുകള് തുറന്നപ്പോള് എനിക്ക് മുന്പില് ഒരായിരം ചെരാതുകളില് എന്റെയുടെപ്പിടന്നോര് ! നിറങ്ങളാണ് എല്ലാം എന്ന് കരുതിയിരുന്നവരിലേക്ക് ഞാന് സ്വാത്രന്ത്രത്തിന്റെ, മോക്ഷത്തിന്റെ, തിരിച്ചറിവുകള് പകര്ന്ന് നല്കി. ഞങ്ങളൊന്നായി, ഒരേ മനസോടെ, ഇരവിനെത്തോപ്പിച്ച് ഒരായിരം സൂര്യന്മാരായി, ഒരേ സ്വപ്നങ്ങളോടെ, പ്രതീക്ഷകളോടെ, നല്ല നാളെയുടെ പ്രതീക്ഷകളോടെ സുവര്ണ പ്രഭ ചൊരുത്തി കത്തിജ്വലിച്ചു നിന്നു. നേരം വീണ്ടുമിരുളവേ ഒരിളം കാറ്റെത്തി. ഞങ്ങളില് ചിലരെയാക്കാറ്റ് വാരിപ്പുണര്ന്നു. ചിലര് ആടിയുലഞ്ഞു. നിറങ്ങളായിരുന്നു മോക്ഷം. ഇത് തീയാണ്, കാറ്റാണ് ഒരു തിരിനാളം
പരിതപിച്ചു. ഇളം കാറ്റത് കേട്ടത് ആര്ത്ത് ചിരിച്ചു. തിരിച്ചറിവുകള് നഷ്ട്ടപ്പെട്ട് കരിന്തിരി കെടും മുന്പ് മറ്റു ചിലരും പറഞ്ഞു നിറങ്ങളായിരുന്നു മോക്ഷം.
സ്വയം കണ്ടെത്തല് നാമോരുത്തരും സ്വയം എത്തിച്ചേരുന്ന അവസ്ഥയാണ്. സ്വയം തിരിച്ചറിയുന്നവനേ ഇളം കാറ്റുകളെപ്പോലും തരണം ചെയ്യാന് പറ്റൂ. സംഘടനകള്ക്ക് നമ്മെ സ്വതത്രനാക്കോനോ കരുത്തരാക്കാനോ കഴിയില്ല (ref 1). അത് സ്വയം നിര്വഹിക്കാന് കഴിയാത്തവന് കരിന്തിരിയണയേണ്ടത് അനിവാര്യതയാണ്. നീയും കൊടുങ്കാറ്റുകളെ നേരിടാന് പ്രാപ്തനല്ല. നീ വെളിച്ചം പകര്ന്ന ഈ ചെരാതുകളില് ചിലരൊക്കെ നിറങ്ങളല്ല വെളിച്ചമാണ് മോക്ഷമെന്ന് തിരിച്ചറിയും. പക്ഷെ നിനക്ക് കൊടുങ്കാറ്റുകളെ നേരിടാന് ശക്തിയാര്ജ്ജിക്കേണ്ടതുണ്ട്. ഇളം കാറ്റ് ഇത് ചൊല്ലി വിടവാങ്ങുമ്പോള് ഞാനറിയുകയായിരുന്നു അവനാണ് നാളെയുടെ കൊടുങ്കാറ്റ്. ഇളം കാറ്റുകള് മോക്ഷം നേടി മഴയും പേമാരിയുമായി തിരിച്ചെത്തുന്നു. ഇവിടെ നഷ്ടങ്ങളില്ല, നേട്ടങ്ങളിലേക്കുള്ള പ്രയാണമാണ് നാമൊരുത്തരുടെയും ജീവിതം. പലപ്പോഴും നാമത് തിരിച്ചറിയാതെ വിട്ടു വീഴ്ചകളുടെ തലച്ചുമടുമായി ജീവിക്കുന്നു. എനിക്ക് യാത്ര തുടരേണ്ടതുണ്ട്. പേമാരികളേയും നേരിടാനുള്ള കരുത്താര്ജ്ജിക്കുവാന്. ഭാവിയുടെ ഭൂതകാലത്തില്, ഇന്നുകളില് ജീവിക്കാതെ ഭാവിക്കുവേണ്ടി കരുത്താര്ജ്ജിക്കുവാന്.
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Indirectly describes the reason for dissolving Malayalikkoottam as it was originally created & here by I announce that the vision and mission of the Malayalikkoottam is unachievable unless the very people involved don't realize themselves. In any case, it seems the realization is something similar to what J Krishnamoorthy had in 1929. I here by quit from Malayalikkoottam and the original intentions for which the group has created seems to be still unachievable. All assets of the group if there is any will be handed over to anyone identified by koottam-manage and I will preserve the photos and other artifacts of the group with atmost care until its handed over to respective individuals. It was a great attempt to create a group which is not for comments and which has a physical existence and which could do many things beyond mere photography. The group still has the best resources and great people and few souls still fighting to make it what it was intended. Those are the ones who knows who they are and the very reason for the issues. I have no words to express my respect for them. It was a great journey I thank every member of the group especially the great souls who are still fighting against the chaos and those who stood from the beginning. But the path is else where. The relationships I earned from the group, often wanted to called itself as a family is precious and may may be, we can put everything back. Looks like for last 2+ years I was fighting with individuals and vendors when they try to take advantage of us. May be its time to relax a bit and stop the never ending fight for a while and give more time to myself than the family / group.
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Ref 1: this sentence is added after originally writting the Malayalam text on November 5th, 2009 and its based on J Krishnamoorthy's "The Order of the Star in the East" dissolution speech.
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DSC_3556_1, Taken at Thrikkakkara Vamana Temple on Thirivonam day & the caption and processing done ages ago. The text / description was written on November 5th 2009.
If you think, you were involved somehow, in the effort to build this community in last 3 years, there is "Add a person" link on the right hand side ! add yourself there. It will be fun
Also it will be interesting to check Honey Moon photos too :-)
Jake Hegel Photography Facebook page: www.facebook.com/pages/Jake-Hegel-Photography/21335669868...
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The Duel of the Figures continues…
It’s not battle of Jedi vs Sith, it’s not a battle of Good vs Evil, it’s a battle of coolness as the high quality “Samurai” Darth Vader action figure fights against a “mass market” version of Kit Fisto.
Continues from part 3: www.flickr.com/photos/133750589@N08/25093753264/in/photos...
You can find the whole series (the last part will be posted soon) here: www.flickr.com/photos/133750589@N08/albums/72157665467242701
Vader maintains his hold on Fisto figure.
Fisto: “You…are deluded to think your kind actually means something…cough.. You have just a niche market…your kind are so expensive…we are so affordable…cough… we can swarm the market and be forever remembered…”
Vader: “You are a fool to think you can leave a mark in the history of collectibles. Quality does matter and while my kind may be expensive, you are annoyingly overpriced for a figure of your quality! We'll be a prized possession in a collection but you… you will be forgotten. It’s time to sink into oblivion.”
With a swift movement Vader plunges his Lightsaber into his opponent’s chest.
To be continued…
No action figure has been harmed during the making of this photo; this is just a simulation of violence/combat etc, etc :) It’s obvious but a little disclaimer never hurts lol :)
Samurai Vader is the Bandai Tamashii Nations Movie Realization Samurai Taisho [General] Darth Vader, Death Star Armor action figure :) I know it’s as long as a Hyperspace route lol :)
Fisto figure lacks his right arm because he lost it earlier in the fight.
I hope you are enjoying this little series :)
May the Force be with You :)