View allAll Photos Tagged Reconciled
“Some things go on. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it was just my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do”.
~Sethe (The pensive protagonist in Toni Morrison’s Pulitzer prize and National Book award winning novel ‘Beloved'.)
Memory is a messy necessity. On one hand, it curates our past and gives us our identity; on the other, it is a frail feature of our brain that is highly susceptible to time, trauma, and emotions. When something so contradictory and paradoxical mates with a writer of Toni Morrison’s caliber, one expects the birthing of something extraordinary. ‘Beloved’ was the lovechild in this case. It is a fictional recounting of African American life under and after slavery. Based on the life of Margaret Garner, a historical slave woman who killed her girl child to ‘protect’ her from horrors of slavery, this claustrophobic novel does not mince words, leaves blood where it can’t be ignored, and rough handles the core concept of memory. Here, Margaret’s character –Sethe– slits the throat of her unnamed infant girl and then, from the depths of her motherhood, had the word ‘Beloved’ engraved on her tombstone. For the rest of her life, trying to reconcile and heal, Sethe hides from and seeks this painful memory in equal measure. And in this unrest, a new word is coined: ‘rememory’. “History versus memory, and memory versus memorylessness.”, Morrison later defined the word, “Rememory as in recollecting and remembering as in reassembling the members of the body, the family, the population of the past… The effort to both remember and not know...”
Read that with me slowly… 'Rememory as in recollecting and remembering as in reassembling the members of the body, the family, the population of the past …' that has been ripped apart. Neither can you dwell on it for too long, nor can you ignore it for a long period of time either. This uncomfortable recollection of repressed memory – it seems– has a paranormal quality to it. In the novel, Sethe says, “Some day you be walking down the road and you hear something or see something going on. So clear. And you think it's you thinking it up. . . But no. It's when you bump into a rememory that belongs to somebody else.” Is it possible to walk into some else’s rememory, as Sethe suggests? Or, perhaps it’s a metaphor to represent the interconnectedness of our collective past and present human experience –especially of trauma– and its subsequent transformative narration to ourselves and others. Our ancestors still tell us their stories, don’t they? Like Sethe and other characters in ‘Beloved’, we are all story-inheritors. But unlike them, why is that we reflect on our inheritance in such seldom?
In her Nobel prize for literature lecture in 1993, Morrison gave us the unforgettable quote about language, “We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” I wonder, if Sethe would have disagreed and instead, as our lives’ true measure, cited ‘rememory’.
Her spiritual journey began as a psychological one as she confronted her inner demons.54 “People know the immensities of outer space better than they know their own depths,” she wrote in June 1941, echoing Jung’s words.55 And four months later she wrote: “The feeling that there is a dream world and a grey, everyday world, and that the two are irreconcilable. And I do so want to reconcile them, I want to live them both at the same time. I know it can be done.”
-Beauty and Horror in a Concentration Camp-The Story of Etty Hillesum ,James Murphy
Evening clouds burn brightly above the gleam of the Rio Arno as it wends through one of the most storied cities in the Western world, as seen from Piazzale Michelangelo, Florence, Italy.
We stood absorbing the sunset and feeling fortunate exactly one year ago today, having traveled to Italy to celebrate our 20th anniversary with our two boys. With the hindsight that a year brings, it is somewhat jarring to reconcile these travels with the current fact that Italy will not allow American travelers to enter due to the coronavirus. From a public health perspective, these restrictions on travel from the U.S. are probably sensible given the large number and continued rise in cases over on this side of the Atlantic. I do wonder how all of the gelato venders are doing in Florence though, and the shops lining the Ponte Vecchio are probably selling a record few Rolexes...
Happy Father's Day to all those paternal characters out there!
Waking into the dreamscape. From one dream into the next. Bleary eyed, I am still trying to reconcile if the scene in front of me is real. A cloudy landscape of cotton candy and light. Winter dawn brings a unique palette of both warm and cool color.
The fourth photo from the "Watercolor" series.
My world feels very contracted lately. Has something to do with winter weather. Daily activities are necessarily confined mostly to indoor settings. Even when outdoors it feels as if I'm on borrowed time as darkness settles in early and remains well into the morning. Incessant overcast days only intensify the effect. The holidays, once a source of joy, now seem an often unpleasant disruption of routine. This is something I grapple with every year. I dread the run-up to the holidays, but then feel oddly sentimental about them once they are over. A weird dichotomy that I've never been able to reconcile.
I often find a catharsis in my photography... sometimes good, sometimes bad. Really they are the same thing, just two poles differing by degree. For me it's a matter of perspective and trying to reconcile the paradox... :)
There are suggestions that the wooden temple of St. Nicholas the Good was located on this site back in the 11th century. A stone church was built here in 1807 according to the design of the architect Andrei Melensky. Residents of Podol loved this temple very much and never said “Church of St. Nicholas the Good,” only “Good St. Nicholas.” The church was destroyed by the Bolsheviks in 1935, but the bell tower remained.
On April 26, 1913, the rector of the temple, Father Alexander Glagolev, married Mikhail Bulgakov with his first wife Tatyana. Mikhail and Tasya first met when she was 15 and he was 17 years old. A Saratov high school student came for vacation to her aunt, who was friends with Mikhail’s mother. The girl’s magical green eyes drove the young schoolboy crazy. Parents on both sides were against youthful love and at Christmas 1908, Tatyana was not allowed to go to Kyiv, but was sent to Moscow to her grandmother. Misha even decided to shoot himself, but it didn’t work out... After Mikhail graduated from the gymnasium, Tasya came to Kyiv, the parents reconciled, and on April 26, 1913, Father Alexander married the lovers.
Дзвіниця церкви Миколи Доброго.
Існують припущення, що дерев'яний храм Миколи Доброго знаходився на цьому місці ще у XI столітті. А кам'яний храм тут збудували 1807 року за проектом архітектора Андрія Меленського. Жителі Подолу дуже любили цей храм і ніколи не говорили "церква Миколи Доброго", тільки "Доброго Миколи". Церква була зруйнована більшовиками у 1935 році, а дзвіниця збереглася.
“26 квітня 1913 року настоятель храму отець Олександр Глаголєв повінчав у ньому Михайла Булгакова з його першою дружиною Тетяною. Михайло та Тася вперше зустрілися, коли їй було 15, а йому 17 років. Саратівська гімназистка приїхала на канікули до своєї тітки, яка дружила з мамою Михайла. Чаклунські зелені очі дівчини звели юного гімназиста з розуму. Батьки з обох боків були проти юнацького кохання і на Різдво 1908 року Тетяну не пустили до Києва, а відправили у Москву до бабусі. Михайло навіть вирішив стрілятися, але обійшлося… Після закінчення Михайлом гімназії Тася приїхала до Києва, батьки змирилися, і 26 квітня 1913 року отець Олександр повінчав закоханих.”
Архитектура Подола, Оксана Денисова.
For 'MacroMondays' theme of 'kitchen'.
My morning cereal bowl and a tea-spoon.
This started off as a simple idea! - KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid)
Like a lot of simple ideas, it didn't turn out quite as simple in practice! No real issues with lighting - just a single desk lamp -
Issues though with focus!
I would have liked the focus on the rim of the bowl to 'be inline' with the focus on the tip of the spoon - and I've just missed out! The bowl needs to be a bit further away from the camera than it is - how much? Probably 2-3 mm. And then the perspective changes !!!
I lined everything up by eye and I always find it difficult to reconcile what I see and what the camera sees - and it shows again here. It doesn't help with the camera tripod being right against the table-top either. I can never get my eye in the same place as my camera lens.
There wasn't any 'real' colour in the objects and very little possibility of getting any into the picture in the right place - wherever that might be! So I didn't try.
Russian Industar 61 L/Z 2.8/50mm lens .................. less than 3 inches
"Tell me what you see"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-QfPUz1es8
Imagine Dragons - Bad Liar
Dime que ves
Siempre me he preguntado si todo lo que observo, advierto, experimento, estudio y comprendo es una fantasía, una utopía, incluso una alucinación....
Mis sueños, mis deseos, ¿representan, evidencian, entrañan, destacan algo? La verdad, no lo sé, y por ello sigo fantaseando, idealizando, anhelando conciliar mis "ilusiones" con la "objetividad"....
Tell me what you see
I have always wondered if everything I observe, notice, experiment, study and understand is a fantasy, a utopia, even an hallucination ....
My dreams, my desires, do they represent, show, entail, highlight something? The truth, I do not know, and therefore I keep fantasizing, idealizing, longing to reconcile my "illusions" with "objectivity" ....
Dis moi ce que tu vois
Je me suis toujours demandé si tout ce que j'observe, remarque, expérimente, étudie et comprends est un fantasme, une utopie, voire une hallucination ...
Mes rêves, mes désirs représentent-ils, montrent-ils, entraînent-ils, mettent-ils en évidence quelque chose? La vérité, je ne sais pas, et donc je continue à fantasmer, à idéaliser, désirant réconcilier mes "illusions" avec "l’objectivité" ....
Dimmi cosa vedi
Mi sono sempre chiesto se tutto ciò che osservo, osservo, esperimento, studio e comprensione sia una fantasia, un'utopia, persino un'allucinazione ...
I miei sogni, i miei desideri, rappresentano, mostrano, comportano, evidenziano qualcosa? La verità, non lo so, e quindi continuo a fantasticare, a idealizzare, a desiderare di riconciliare le mie "illusioni" con "oggettività" ....
María
Recommended monitor brightness: 100% in brightly lit rooms; 80-90% in dim light.
National parks are touted as America’s best idea. In some sense, they really are a tremendous idea; these are our rare landscape and wilderness jewels, which must be enjoyed and preserved for generations to come. But if one wanders beyond their wanderlust in our parks’ anthropological history, an unsettling realization comes soon: many of these wonderful parks stand on stolen land. For example, what was once Shoshone-Bannock Tribe’s home is today your and mine Yellowstone national park. Yosemite was poached from Miwoks ruthlessly by the Mariposa Battalion, a formal state militia of non-native men, who were largely miners by trade. Glacier National Park was the home of Blackfeet Indians for ages as was the Grand Canyon of Havasupai, Hopi, Navajo, and Hualapai tribes. I could go on, but you get the point by now. With the exception of Bear Ears, creation of no other national park was sanctified by formal permission of the land’s original inhabitants. Instead, their blood and tears were abundantly used to ink proclamations for these parks.
The hustle doesn’t end there. The steal comes with a bit of silver-foil wrapping of the stolen product as well. We are told –and most of us innocently believe– that these parks are bastions of wilderness. Are they? Today’s Acadia (where the above photo was made) was the key port of activities for the Wabanaki –“the people of the Dawnland”– long before the pilgrims came and proclaimed the area as pristine land. Similarly, every other national park, often showcased as haven of wilderness, have been lived in by aboriginal Indians for thousands of years before. It’s just that these original land keepers did not construct roads, mines, and dams in their land but shaped it instead with deep reverence. The tribal perspective of ‘take care of the land so the land takes care of you’ left the land sustainable and beautifully wild. Today, to the fool and the uninitiated, such respectfully kept land indeed appears virgin wilderness.
Knowing now what you and I do, what shall we do different from here on? The NPS –to its credit– has made a concerted effort in recent years to include local tribes in maintenance and manifestation of the park idea. Alaskan parks are great models for such inclusivity. Also, the recent appointment of Chuck Sams as the first-ever Native American to head the NPS is an overdue nod towards acknowledging true shepherds of these slices of Eden. However, still a lot remains to be done. More than anything else, we all have a responsibility to undertake –as individuals– when we visit these treasured lands of ours. As one cannot be in the Sistine chapel without thinking of Michelangelo, no one should similarly experience Yosemite or Yellowstone without sparing thoughts for their indigenous keepers and architects. And in doing so, we could reconcile –at least partially and at a personal level– with our inherited sins.
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Background for this post: Recently, I got Rishabh a copy of QT Luong’s epic and much celebrated book on National Parks (Treasured Lands), which QT was kind enough to personally inscribe (made Rishabh ecstatic). While enjoying the beautiful book, I realized how little is spoken in popular platforms about issues highlighted above. Hence, my tiny bit of hope here towards an eventual course correction.
Background for this image: You may remember our busted attempt at witnessing an Acadian sunset from the Cadillac mountain. We went back again a couple of days later, this time to find the clouds rampaging the sky in E minor.
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PS: As an annual tradition now, I have curated ten of my personal favorite 2021 images. If two of your minutes need killing, I could give you ten excuses to do so.
Taken BY ; ME
EDIT BY ; ME
thank God to reconcile .. And
Congratulations all friends on his
graduation from secondary education
© All Right Reserved ; The.Diamond
"Are you doing a late one?" Katie stood at my office door in her coat, signalling that it was time to go. It's the first time she's worn a coat in months, which tells a story in itself. Ever since Lockdown started in the UK, or at least so it seems, the weather has been unusually good. Even in March, when we were first instructed to work from home it was nice enough to sit outside without a coat on. March is usually a bitter and blustery month in the UK. April is often only marginally better for that matter. But apart from a below average June, the summer has seemed longer this year. Until today it has at any rate.
"No, I'm coming with you," I replied. It was already nearly 6pm. I wasn't in the middle of anything and our boss had already left, so there was nobody to look heroically pious in front of. I switched off my computer and followed her out of the building. We look after each other like that as left unchecked we're both likely to carry on working until the caretakers throw us out during the crazy autumn term. Sometimes I think someone should bash our heads together and knock some sense into us - all this unpaid overtime doesn't impress anyone, although it does just about keep our heads above water.
Today had started wet, then been bright, and rained again before the evening sun filtered through the clouds - a recipe for the soft grainy warm yellow light that I saw on the slopes of Carn Brea as I drove home. Although it was just about an hour until sunset, I knew there was time to change quickly, hoping that everything was in the bag and head to Wheal Coates, the nearest coastal focal point on the map. I arrived to a blast of a distinctly chilly onshore breeze coming in from the north and immediately put my raincoat on over the one I was already wearing and tried to reconcile the conditions to the sweltering heat that had found me switching on the office fan just two days earlier. Still, when you can stand and gaze all the way along the coast down to St Ives and beyond just an hour after leaving work, a bit of fresh weather seems a small price to pay.
In my last post I talked about my routine of planning and preparing a shot, often waiting happily for an hour or more before even reaching for the camera. Today there was no time to reach for the unwritten textbook in my head as I hastily assembled the camera on the tripod to catch the yellow path over the sea reach the sunbeams bursting from low cloud on the horizon. Things weren't helped when it dawned on me that I'd left my glasses in the car, bringing instead my Ray Bans. Right now I was up there with Stevie Wonder in the looking cool stakes, but I only had a very small advantage over him in discerning what was happening on the three inch screen in front of me. It's not the first time I've done this when I've been in a bit of a hurry to get to a location.
Normally I stay well after sunset, most of the way through the blue hour watching the light fall and the colours fade into the darkness, but this evening it was too cold to hang around and gaze at nature's beauty. I headed home, to soon be passed by an escaped horse running in the direction of St Agnes, followed at a judicious distance by a conscientious driver with her hazard lights on. When I got home I phoned the police for the first time in my life to report the antics of our equine friend. They already knew and were on the way. Hope they got there in time to lead it to safety.
The young broadwinged hawk is still not reconciled to our presence on his property. I've offfered to show him the City's tax maps, but he just glares at me and complains in his high-pitched voice, apparently unconcerned about what the neighbors (or our other yard birds) might think. Keene,NH: 7 August, 2020.
I really have two selves...my music self and my street life self...but when they collide, it is to try to capture the energy in life, the joie de vivre in each moment. And, sometimes concert photography is fun and easy when it's an indie band you like who doesn't have the crazy rights grab photo contract and who actually might appreciate the fact that you enjoyed their set. The industry can be a real joy kill but there are still some great moments to be had.
There are some of you who only love my concert work and others of you who only love my street/protest work...but there are two selves that have to meet and reconcile as one. It's a struggle every day but these moments make it all worthwhile.
Extra credit to Alex Luciano for talking about safe spaces and giving a shout out to the LGBTQ community!
**All photos are copyrighted. Please don't use without permission**
Excerpt from the plaque:
Black Widow Corsage 1985
This black widow figure seen in the corsage serves as an avatar of feminine power, yet it also depends on the negative stereotype of a dangerous, vengeful woman. Her miniature body, spider-like in a black cocktail dress, builds on centuries of ceramic figurines produced in the porcelain factories of Europe and Asia. This figurine, like others, uses vivid iconography to represent a clearly recognizable character.
Blackburn’s fascination with tragic mortality predates his diagnosis with AIDS in 1993. Yet depictions of death and dying took on greater potency in the gay community as the AIDS crisis escalated. With visible and pervasive loss in the community, many people struggled to come to terms with impending death and its aftermath. Figures such as the black widow took on deeper meanings, as people strove to reconcile themselves with their new reality.
Two Heads 1995
Two Heads is one of the last ceramic works Blackburn made and among the few that is purely sculptural. The heads’ distortions, both spectral and glamorous, could allegorize the dysmorphia of experiencing one’s own body decline or contortions made in the pursuit of beauty. Resembling drag performers in the act of self-invention, the heads also look upward, as if entreating some greater power for answers.
Strengthening America Overseas, Ending the Iraq War, Cleaning Up Washington's Culture of Corruption, Meeting America's Energy Needs, Honoring Our Veterans, Improving Our Schools, Creating a Healthcare System that Works, Protecting Our Homeland, Strengthening Families and Communities, Protecting the Right to Vote, Reconciling Faith and Politics... Senator Obama has been able to develop innovative approaches to challenge the status quo and get results. Americans are tired of divisive ideological politics, which is why Senator Obama has reached out to Republicans to find areas of common ground. He has tried to break partisan logjams and take on seemingly intractable problems. During his tenure in Washington and in the Illinois State Senate, Barack Obama has accumulated a record of bipartisan success…
This photo of the Superstition Mountains is dedicated to my mother international astrology columnist Jacqueline Bigar who passed away this week. She lived in the Phoenix area during her last years, and introduced me to this small group of mountains. I ventured out there yesterday to photograph them one last time in her memory.
It's odd to deal with the passing of someone who was so widely known by millions of readers as a person who helped their lives. The letters and notes they have sent have been remarkable, and I will save and print them for future generations. You can read a lengthy obituary about her in the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Like many people, her personal life was much more complicated and remains difficult for me to reconcile. Perhaps superstitious is simply the best way to begin and end.
Superstitious is an interesting word about fear and unfounded views, and many of its implications seem to fit the way she ran her life. From her faith in the stars to her personal beliefs and choices, she defied normality based on an unorthodox point of view that few can understand, even me her eldest child and closest relative. But she thrived on wildness and forged an entire career on her views, helping and entertaining readers across the world.
Given how other people view her and the positive aspects of that, there really is nothing more to say. May the stars be with you, Mom, wherever you are.
Inspired by Stevie Wonder, Superstition
Germany, Munich, the square with the current name "Platzl". The old Munich street name Platzl has existed at this point since at least 1780, it describes the square-like extension of the northern Orlandostraße that ends there.
The most famous building on the Platzl is the Hofbräuhaus, among the other gastronomy localities such as Alfons Schuhbeck's gastronomies, a "Hard Rock Café", the "Platzl Hotel" are grouped in the immediate vicinity
On the left, the World-famous Munich Brewery “Hofbräuhaus”, literally, State Court-Brewery, in Bavaria since 1592.
Wilhelm V., Duke of Bavaria, 1579–1597, had a thirsty & demanding Royal Household, which was dissatisfied with the beer brewed in Munich. As a result, B
beer had to be imported to Munich from the city of Einbeck in Lower Saxony. Wilhelm ordered his Royal Court to come up with a way to reconcile cost & pleasure. On September 27, 1589, the Chamberlains & Council Members approached him with an
idea to build their own brewery.
Wilhelm welcomed the Plan, as a matter of fact, that same day, he recruited the master brewer of the Geisenfeld Monastery, Heimeran Pongraz, to be the planner, developer & the first “Brown” Hofbräuhaus master Brewer, which went into operation at the “Alter Hof”, old court, in 1592. It was called the “brown” Hofbräuhaus as only brown ale was brewed there.
On the right with the Arcades & built in 1900 the Orlando House with gastronomy operated by Alfons Schuhbeck´s, a renowned chef & restaurateur in Germany.
👉 One World one Dream,
🙏...Danke, Xièxie 谢谢, Thanks, Gracias, Merci, Grazie, Obrigado, Arigatô, Dhanyavad, Chokrane to you & over
15 million visits in my photostream with countless motivating comments
This image is included in 2 galleries :- 1) "Kunst und Kunstvolles" curated by julia_HalleFotoFan and 2) "When color is the subject" by N Thomas Meldert .
Completed in 2020, monumental in scale and ambition, The Eyes of the Land and the Sea by Alison Page and Nik Lachajczak commemorates the 250th anniversary of the 1770 encounter between Aboriginal Australians and Lt James Cook’s crew of the HMB Endeavour at Kamay Botany Bay National Park, Australia.
The artwork is cast in bronze and takes the form of seven ribs, resembling both the hull of the HMB Endeavour, as well as the bones of a whale, being the Gadigal totem. Each ‘rib’ has a different surface treatment including text and carvings to represent the different layers of history and culture of Kamay. An amalgam of two very different forms, the commemorative installation speaks to the different perspectives of those first encounters, evoking a sense of sentiment, mutual understanding and reflection on the events of 1770.
UAP collaborated with the artists to develop, fabricate and install the 30m long artwork, which embeds refreshed and revived narratives of history and connection to the land, strengthening the significance of the meeting place at Kamay to all.
According to ALISON PAGE - "The Eyes of The Land and The Sea is a story about discovery. Not the discovery of land by Europeans, but of all Australians discovering their true history as we move together towards a truly reconciled Nation."
(Sourced from UAP and the artists' website)
This was taken on an overcast summer's morning. The light kept changing and showers threatened to break through. This was one of the moments when the light appeared eerie and interesting. The mood was austere. In the background is the Caltex Oil Refinery Terminal.
( Explored : Feb 18, 2023 #129 )
Socrates said, 'If Aesop had thought about pleasure and pain, he would have composed a fable about how when Pleasure and Pain were at war with one another, the god wanted to reconcile them. But as he was not able to do that, he joined them together at the head, which is why when you meet with either pleasure or pain, the other one soon follows.'
Aesop's Fables. A new translation by Laura Gibbs. Oxford University Press (World's Classics): Oxford, 2002.
Strengthening America Overseas, Ending the Iraq War, Cleaning Up Washington's Culture of Corruption, Meeting America's Energy Needs, Honoring Our Veterans, Improving Our Schools, Creating a Healthcare System that Works, Protecting Our Homeland, Strengthening Families and Communities, Protecting the Right to Vote, Reconciling Faith and Politics... Senator Obama has been able to develop innovative approaches to challenge the status quo and get results. Americans are tired of divisive ideological politics, which is why Senator Obama has reached out to Republicans to find areas of common ground. He has tried to break partisan logjams and take on seemingly intractable problems. During his tenure in Washington and in the Illinois State Senate, Barack Obama has accumulated a record of bipartisan success…
Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved Contact to buy : nejdet_2005@hotmail.com
This enclosure for archaeological remains at Ephesus elegantly reconciles historic conservation with accessibility for visitors. The site of a succession of great ancient civilizations, Ephesus, on the south-west coast of modern Turkey, embodied a peculiarly fertile synthesis of architecture and culture. In 356BC the Greeks built the Artemesium (a colossal Ionic temple dedicated to Artemis the fertility goddess) which was one of the Seven Wonders of the ancient world. During the 2nd century BC, Ephesus was the fourth largest city in the eastern Roman Empire, famous for its Artemesium, the Library of Celsus and its medical school.
-- Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
We are all multi-faceted; we have many emotions, desires, preferences, and personalities. I am certainly no exception. Most of my self-portraits thus far have been rather ... serious, or at least generally so. I've felt as though my creativity is limited to my 'deep thoughts' and my sense of humor isn't as applicable. Mainly, I'm usually just not smiling (with the exception of three or so shots). Some individuals (though I will not name them) had a first impression of me as someone serious, uptight, ... whatever. When I heard that, I laughed. And then thought to myself, hmm, is that true? No. Fair enough, but is that how I want others to perceive me? It's definitely not how I perceive myself. I like to have others see me as I'd like to be seen (who doesn't?) -- and I'd like to be seen as who I truly am, not some ideal. Truly, I laugh constantly. I joke constantly. I am too sarcastic. I make really, really corny jokes (e.g. "What do you call cheese that isn't yours? ... Na-cho cheese!" & "What time do you go to the dentist? ... Tooth-hurty!" & etc. etc. ad infinitum...). I love slapstick humor (e.g. Mel Brooks is my hero). Et al.
I am also deeply devoted to the intellect. I'm a philosopher by nature and college degree, and I love it more than just about anything. I know this part of me has come forth strongly in my photostream. I also studied neuroscience as an accompaniment to my theories about consciousness and personal identity. I've learned never to take a single thing for granted, believe anything beyond a shadow of a doubt, or throw my words around haphazardly. Sure, this makes me an analytic bastard who is anal about semantics and logic. People tend to find this tedious. So I have to reconcile two parts of myself: the silly idiot who is always ready to laugh at her own expense, and the thoroughly introspective and scientific seeker. Throw in creativity (which I *think* I have ;-) and you've got me. A big melting pot of talent, absurdity, philosophy, and passion.
Many thanks and love to Maite for picking "Self-Reflection" as today's FGR theme.
& GTWL anniversary edition -- Clones.
Day 75.
& of course: View On Black!
Agression de Pierre Rigaux en Forêt de Fontainebleau, le 21 octobre 2025
PETITION ️ : www.nosviventia.com/pour-la-dissolution-du-rallye-de-font...
L'agression en images ( attention images violentes ⚠️ ) : www.facebook.com/pierre.rigaux.naturaliste/videos/les-cha...
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♫ Manau / "L'avenir est un long passé" :
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eiSn8YjVcE
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Si on "oublie" les trois coups de feu qui m’ont fait sursauter pendant que je profitais d’un moment contemplatif avec les oiseaux, et que le doux son de l’arme à feu a fait fuir tous les canards, c’était un moment génial...
Le partage de la nature c'est ça ? Concilier tous les "loisirs" ? Perso, je n'ai fait de mal à personne durant mon loisir.
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If we "forget" about the three gunshots that made me jump while I was enjoying a contemplative moment with the birds, and the gentle sound of the firearm that scared all the ducks away, it was a great moment... Sharing nature, is that what it means? Reconciling all kinds of ‘leisure activities’? Personally, I didn’t harm anyone during mine.
This delightful work by Woi-Wurrung Wurundjeri and Yorta Yorta artist Simone Thomson is in the foyer of Merri Health in Coburg, Victoria. "In an evening sky, Bunjil flies across a crystal moon staring out over country, his great creation. The moon represents Merri Health's commitment to shine a light on Reconcilation at all times of the day and night"
Invert this image and you will see a frightening face where the eyes and mouth are actually upside down! Our brain works hard to reconcile facial features so this image when viewed upside down makes my face almost looks normal - flip it and you will see a frightening version of me. It's called the Thatcher Effect. I think this is wild!
WAH theme: Self Centered Sunday
Pose- Animosity C-226
Take @ Sunnys using Industrial loft w/ own pose and props, Focus Poses
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Sunny%20Photo%20Studio/50/...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3M04bhIRK4
Teddy Swims Some Things I'll Never Know Lyrics The Mesmerizing Lines and Meaning
Teddy Swims Some Things I'll Never Know Lyrics: Explore Teddy Swims' heartfelt lyrics in 'Some Things I'll Never Know,' as he navigates the depths of love and longing. Dive into the emotions with this soulful ballad.
by S Kaviya | Updated Sep 21, 2023
Teddy Swims Some Things I'll Never Know Lyrics The Mesmerizing Lines and Meaning
Teddy Swims Some Things I'll Never Know Lyrics
Walking down the street last night
Watching strangers pass me by
Where do all our shadows go?
I guess, some things, I'll never know
I can fool my senses for a little while
But some things are too hard to reconcile
When I look into your eyes
There's no answers I can't find
It's a feeling that I've never known
And, when I'm wide awake tonight
Running circles in my mind
There's an answer I can't find
When did your heart let me go?
I guess, some things, I'll never know
I guess, somе things, I'll never know
I'm running out of avenuеs
'Cause every road leads back to you
When memories fade, where do they go?
I guess, some things, I'll never know
I can fool my senses for a little while
But some things are too hard to reconcile
Oh, when I look into your eyes
There's no answers I can't find
It's a feeling that I've never known
But, when I'm wide awake tonight
Running circles in my mind
There's an answer I can't find
When did your heart let me go?
I guess, some things, I'll never know
I guess, some things, I'll never know
Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh
Did I turn over every stone?
Am I still there when your eyes close?
When did your heart let me go?
I guess, some things, I'll never know
LA PLETNA PIENA.
Si potrebbero chiamare "le gondole di Bled". Sono le "pletne", tipiche imbarcazioni locali che trasportano fino a due dozzine di turisti, guidate dalle braccia esperte del "gondoliere". Il giro del lago culmina con la visita all'isolotto della "campana dei desideri".
In pletna, man mano che ci si allontana dalla riva, la prospettiva dello sguardo è ancora più riappacificante, complice anche il suono della campana proveniente dalla chiesa di S. Maria. E' la "campana dei desideri", come vuole la leggenda. Basta tirare per tre volte la corda che scende direttamente all'interno della chiesa, proprio davanti all'altare; se la campana suona i desideri espressi si avvereranno. Sempre secondo la leggenda, la campana d'oro ordinata dalla vedova di Hartmann, ucciso dai briganti verso il 1500, affondò nel lago prima di raggiungere l'isola. Quella che è oggi sul campanile della chiesa è la seconda campana (di bronzo) fusa in Padova nel 1534.
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THE FULL PLETNA.
They could be called "the gondolas of Bled". They are the "pletne", typical local boats that carry up to two dozen tourists, guided by the expert arms of the "gondolier". The tour of the lake culminates with a visit to the islet of the "wish bell".
In pletna, as one moves away from the shore, the perspective of the gaze is even more reconciling, also thanks to the sound of the bell coming from the church of S. Maria. It is the "wishing bell", as legend has it. It is enough to pull three times the rope that goes down directly inside the church, right in front of the altar; if the bell rings the wishes expressed will come true. Also according to legend, the golden bell ordered by Hartmann's widow, killed by brigands around 1500, sank in the lake before reaching the island. What is today on the bell tower of the church is the second (bronze) bell cast in Padua in 1534.
CANON EOS 600D con ob. CANON EF 70-300 f./4-5,6 IS USM
How apropos to visit the The National Memorial for Peace and Justice at the same time the US Senate is considering impeachment against a president, whose supporters that ransacked congress reflect the very causes raised on this hallowed spot in Montgomery. The center of the site is constructed of over 800 corten steel monuments, one for each county in the United States where thousands of racial terror lynchings took place SINCE THE CIVIL WAR. The names of the lynching victims are engraved on the columns. It is both sobering and horrifying. Similar to the effect of the Holocaust museum, people should see this to help our country remember, reconcile and to heal - it obviously still needs it.
Le marché central de la ville de Valence, en Espagne, est un édifice conçu en 1914 par les architectes barcelonais Alexandre Soler i March et Francesc Guàrdia i Vial, tous deux formés à l'Escola Tècnica Superior d'Arquitectura de Barcelona et collaborateurs de Lluís Domènech i Montaner (notamment concepteur du palais de la musique catalane), qui est caractérisé par un style propre dans les lignes du Art Nouveau valencienne.
Le projet du marché central prétendait concilier l'usage des grandes structures de fer dépouillées caractéristiques de l’Art nouveau. Après quelques inconvenues et modifications apportées au projet initial, les travaux furent terminés en janvier 1928 sous la direction d'Enric Viedma i Vidal
D'une surface de plus de 8 000 mètres carrés, il est riche d'allusions décoratives relatives aux produits des potagers, vergers et jardins de Valence. Sa structure, constituée de colonnes de fer rappelant la Tour Eiffel, de faïence et de vitraux, en fait une attraction architecturale à ne pas manquer.
Cette agora de la gastronomie valencienne compte plus de 1 200 stands dans lesquels se distinguent les fruits et légumes frais, avec comme protagonistes l'orange, la tomate et les haricots, puis les viandes, fromages, poissons et fruits de mer.
The Central Market (Valencian: mercat central; Castilian: mercado central) in the city of Valencia, Spain, is a building designed in 1914 by Barcelona architects Alexandre Soler i March and Francesc Guàrdia i Vial, both trained in 'Escola Tècnica Superior d'Arquitectura de Barcelona and collaborators of Lluís Domènech i Montaner (especially designer of the Palace of Catalan Music), which is characterized by its own style in the lines of Valencian Art Nouveau.
The central market project claimed to reconcile the use of the large, bare iron structures characteristic of Art Nouveau. After some setbacks and modifications to the initial project, the work was completed in January 1928 under the direction of Enric Viedma i Vidal
With a surface area of more than 8,000 square meters, it is rich in decorative allusions relating to products from the vegetable gardens, orchards and gardens of Valencia. Its structure, made up of iron columns reminiscent of the Eiffel Tower, earthenware and stained glass, makes it an architectural attraction not to be missed.
This agora of Valencian gastronomy has more than 1,200 stalls in which fresh fruit and vegetables stand out, with orange, tomato and beans as protagonists, then meat, cheese, fish and seafood.
I'm not sure I know the reasons for this failure, whether they lie in some innate emotional deficiency or in my life history; I do not mean to sound pompous, but the truth remains: the image of that lecture hall with a hundred people raising their hands, giving the order to destroy my life, come back to me again and again. Those hundred people had no idea that they would one day begin to change, they counted on my being an outcast for life. Not wanted to martyrdom but rather out of the malicious obstinacy characteristic of reflection, I have often composed imaginary variations; I have imagined, for example, what would have been like if instead of expulsion from the Party the verdict had been hanging by the neck. No matter how I construe it, I can not see them doing anything but raising their hands again, especially if the utility of my hanging had been moving in the opening address. Since then, whenever I make new acquaintances, men or women with the potential of becoming friends or lovers, I project them back into that time, that hall, and ask me if they would have raised their hands; no one has ever passed the test: every one of them has raised his hand in the same way my former friends and colleagues (willingly or not, out of conviction or fear) raised theirs. You must admit: it's hard to live with people willing to send you to exile or death, it's hard to become intimate with them, it's hard to love them.
Perhaps it was cruel to me to submit the people I met to such merciless scrutiny when it was very likely they would have led to more or less quiet everyday life in my proximity, beyond good and evil, and never passed through that hall where hands are raised. Say I did it for one purpose only: to elevate myself above everyone else in my moral complacency. But to accuse me of conceit would be remove unjust; I have never voted for anyone's downfall, but I am perfectly aware that this is questionable merit, since I was deprived of the right to raise my hand. It's true that I've long tried to convince myself that if I had been in their position I would not have acted as they did, but I'm honest enough to laugh at myself: why would I have been the only one not to raise his hand? Am I the one just man? Alas, I found no guarantee I would have acted any better; but how has that affected my relationship with others? The consciousness of my own baseness has done nothing to reconcile me to the baseness of others. Nothing is more repugnant to me than brotherly feelings grounded in the common baseness people see in one another. I have no desire for that slimy brotherhood.
(The Joke) Milan Kundera
Excerpt from www.bwst.ca/the-artists/kim2:
Joon Hee Kim
Location: 11
Title: I am Blessed III
Material: Glazed Porcelain, Gold Luster
An award-winning artist, who was an art director in her native South Korea, came to Canada and took patisserie studies at Le Cordon Bleu in Ottawa. As the Cecil Lewis Sculpture Scholarship recipient, She completed Masters in Fine art at Chelsea College of Arts in UK. Her compelling art works have been exhibited nationally and internationally.
Artist Statement:
My work explores human existence by examining and reconciling diverse identities and heritages, as well as reflecting on the persevering burden of human relationships, and mysterious aspects of life. It’s navigating into culture’s transformation of object into new visual language and a relevant tool to measure human existence and absence.
www.ipernity.com/home/ecstaticist
I thank you all for everything I have learned and experienced on flickr. Your enthusiasm, friendship and support is something I will cherish.
This moment is beyond words, so I leave with this image of a simple bean sprout, and with it (I hope) all the beauty even the simplest of things can embody. This has always been the one thing I have sought to bring to you all.
I am very sorry to leave this space. It is wonderful on many levels. The recent events are not something I can reconcile. Many people I respect have left. I also deeply respect those of you who remain - for your art, for your commitment and sense of community.
I am bidding you all who remain a fond farewell, but I hope to see you elsewhere.
:-)
Keep giving the world the beauty! Nobody does it better than you all here on flickr.
Thanks and farewell.
evan (ecstaticist)
Colossians 1:15-20 J.B. Phillips New Testament (PHILLIPS)
Who Christ is, and what he has done ...
Now Christ is the visible expression of the invisible God. He existed before creation began, for it was through him that every thing was made, whether spiritual or material, seen or unseen. Through him, and for him, also, were created power and dominion, ownership and authority. In fact, every single thing was created through, and for him. He is both the first principle and the upholding principle of the whole scheme of creation. And now he is the head of the body which is composed of all Christian people. Life from nothing began through him, and life from the dead began through him, and he is, therefore, justly called the Lord of all. It was in him that the full nature of God chose to live, and through him God planned to reconcile in his own person, as it were, everything on earth and everything in Heaven by virtue of the sacrifice of the cross.
Completed in 2020, monumental in scale and ambition, The Eyes of the Land and the Sea by Alison Page and Nik Lachajczak commemorates the 250th anniversary of the 1770 encounter between Aboriginal Australians and Lt James Cook’s crew of the HMB Endeavour at Kamay Botany Bay National Park, Australia.
The artwork is cast in bronze and takes the form of seven ribs, resembling both the hull of the HMB Endeavour, as well as the bones of a whale, being the Gadigal totem. Each ‘rib’ has a different surface treatment including text and carvings to represent the different layers of history and culture of Kamay. An amalgam of two very different forms, the commemorative installation speaks to the different perspectives of those first encounters, evoking a sense of sentiment, mutual understanding and reflection on the events of 1770.
UAP collaborated with the artists to develop, fabricate and install the 30m long artwork, which embeds refreshed and revived narratives of history and connection to the land, strengthening the significance of the meeting place at Kamay to all.
According to ALISON PAGE - "The Eyes of The Land and The Sea is a story about discovery. Not the discovery of land by Europeans, but of all Australians discovering their true history as we move together towards a truly reconciled Nation."
(Sourced from UAP and the artists' website)
This was taken on an overcast summer morning. The light kept changing and showers threatened to break through. This was one of the moments when the light appeared eerie and interesting. The 9 red and 7 yellow cranes in the background complimented the sculpture very well.
Ezhil: Hello, Good morning, my dear birds. But why are you looking in the opposite directions? Then it is very difficult to lead a peaceful family life. Your visions must be unidirectional, is it not?
Mynahs: This is too much, Ezhil.You are allowed to take only snaps. Do not poke your nose into our privacy. We are like this now. After some time we may reconcile. Mind your business.
Ezhil:OK, OK. Don't get offended. I will come back after some time. I will be happy if your visions are in phase.
Stupa and prayer flags. Kathmandu, Nepal
( Stupa é uma construção em forma de torre, circundada por uma abóbada e um ou vários chanttras (toldos de lona). Originalmente era um monumento funerário de pedra, semi-esférico, com cúpula, mirante e balaustrada. Com o advento do Budismo, evoluiu para uma representação arquitectónica do Cosmos. O acesso a stupa é feito por um arco ou porta, normalmente adornado com esculturas. No entanto, as masi comuns são simples. Normalmente contém relíquias ou 'pequenos tesouros' simbólicos de uma determinada crença.
Outros termos para designar a stupa são chaitya, pagode e chorten.
......................................................................
The Tibetan word is Chorten, which means "the basis of offering".
Stupa is a symbol of enlightened mind, (the awakened mind, universal divinity) and the path to its realisation.
If you had to use just two words, the best definition I have seen is "Spiritual Monument"
The stupa represents the Buddha's body, his speech and his mind, but most especially his mind and every part shows the path to Enlightenment
SYMBOLIC MEANING OF STUPAS
1. The basic platform that "Holds the Earth" symbolises the ten virtues of :
Body :
to protect life
to practise generosity
keep pure morality.
Speech :
to tell the truth
to reconcile
to speak In a quiet and gentle way
to have a sensible speech.
Mind :
to be content
to be altruistic
to have faith In the right views (which are the correct foundation for liberation).
2. The three steps above symbolise the three refuges one holds on to:
Buddha
the reaching of Buddha (Dharma)
the Assembly of those who practise these teachings (Sangha).
3. The Lion-throne symboliscs the superiority over the whole universe.
4. The treasures vase symboliscs the eight Noble Riches.
5. The small and the big lotuses symbolises the six transcendental virtues :
generosity
pure morality
patience
energy
meditation
wisdom.
6. The four corners of the basic throne symbolise "the Four Unlimited" or Boundless ones:
unlimited love
unlimited compassion
unlimited joy
unlimited equanimity.
7. The first step symboliscs the fundamental four attentions:
Impermanence of the body
sensations
non-substantiality of thoughts
condition of existence (dharmas).
8. The second step symbolises the four perfect efforts (Sammapadhana):
striving to preserve favourable conditions yet existing
striving to produce such conditions not yet existing
striving to ward off unfavorable existing conditions
striving to make It impossible for such conditions to arise.
9. The third step symbolises the four miraculous feet (Riddhipada)
prayer
thought
perserverance
action.
10. The fourth step symbolises the five spiritual faculties (Indriya)
the faculty of faith
the faculty of Energy
the faculty of Attention
the faculty of Concentration
the faculty of Knowledge.
11. The unchanging base that supports the vase symbolises the five forces (Bala)
The force of faith
The force of Energy
The force of Attention
The force of Concentration
The force of Knowledge.
12. The vase in Its particularities symbolises, the seven branches of awakening (Bodhyanga)
the total memory (of past lives)
the perfect knowledge of all dharmas
the diligence
ecstasy
the perfect mastery of all disciplines
concentration
equanimity.
13. The "Tre" (above the vase) and Its reverse symbolisc the noble eightfold path
perfect view
perfect understanding
perfect speech
perfect action
perfect living
perfect effort
perfect attention
perfect concentration.
14.The tree of life symbolises the ten knowledges of
of phenomena
of mind
of Interdependent links
of illusion
of suffering
of the origin of suffering
of the cessation of suffering
of the path leading to the cessation of suffering
of destruction
of the non-appearance
of the ten transcendental knowledges
15. The thirteen rings symbolise
the ten powers and
the three essential remembrances.
16. The umbrella and Its support symbolise the State of a victorious one
17. The "Zaratsak" symbolises the ornaments of all the Supreme Qualities.
18. The Moon symbolises the elimination of all sufferings.
19. The sun symbolises the radiating thousand lights of compassion
20. The jewel at the top symbolises the fulfilment of all wishes.
The believers prostrate with great devotion and faith before such a wonderful Stupa, the embodiment of all the qualities of the victorious ones; only seeing. It brings liberation to all who respect It.
Inle Lake - Myanmar
I really hope many will and had enjoyed viewing my most recent December 2015 Photography Workshop Project held in Myanmar.
Being here Is a true chapter of unbelivable fantasy more substantially blend with a little bitter, bit sour and gradually turn into sweet favour dream....with every moment mainly looking forward to the next episode of breathtaking sunrise if not sunset. Is awfully one of my most exciting yet realsitic photography journey to reconcile and recognise with the magnificent nature God initially created that i had fairly long took for granted in our bustling city lifestyle. Many of the little unnoticed mixture of varies wonders just took place nicely once more, the fresh air particles we miss breathing into our lungs, awesome light and magical rays co-exist harmoniestly on such a rare balancing earth now nowhere to be found if my absent of weakening knowledge can fully disagree or even agree !- Inle Lake .
He is the man, the talent behind me who make all my photography works speak to millions of viewers.
Wish to express my gratitude and credits:
This respectful 26 years old talent is one of my carefully chosen professional One Leg Rower among say if i could still remember correctly counting, out of the 5 candidates in our hire list at Inle lake.
He is not the youngest but neither the oldest. He can't verbally understand my spoken language but he had all the secret elements recipes, our same common frequencies, a basic instinct to co-react "togethernessly" and some fine tune interpretation whisper from my soft spoken local assistance that journey me with greatest support for 2 busy weeks without noticing complaints with all my stringent demands in photography.
Again ,he wasn't one of the most flexible beautiful legs stretcher competing with some other younger chaps out there but definitely he perform whole heartedly and his every single intuition could easily synchronise with my composition request.
i don't bother how good those guys can show off their stunt to me but as a photographer needs, I basically require togetherness and similar chemical boil down to our synchronisation team network.
He could easily follow my eye motion and hands gesture and naturally follow up accordingly.
Maybe he is a terrific mind reader that exhibit extraordinary suitable timing details pose that what made hime stand out from the pools of professional Boatmen..
I hope you guys like him and also enjoy my Myanmar's photography workshop too. I really think without all these capable professional ability talents to assist me for poses, i can't even produces any single quality images out from no where., Please feel free to join me again for my future Myanmar's Photography trip before this mid 2016.
DIE, DUKE, DIE!
I don’t like Duke. I can’t quite put my finger on why.
I mailed away for him as a kid and after waiting an agonizingly long amount of time, when I finally got him I was bit underwhelmed, is that why?
Or maybe it’s the fact that my first exposure to him in GI Joe fiction was in the cartoon series, where his voice, for whatever reason, just rubbed me the wrong way.
Also in the cartoon, he seemed to be trying to steal Scarlett from his buddy Snake Eyes! What a jerk! It would be a few years before I reconciled myself to the fact that the cartoon and comic were 2 different “universes” and that in one Snake Eyes and Scarlett were an item and in the other it was Scarlett and Duke, back in those days I was laboring under the delusion that somehow the cartoon and comic book version of the "Joeniverse" could somehow be reconciled to form one big happy continuity.
I’ve never understood the need for the character, the Joes already had a leader who commanded their respect by” never asking them to do anything he wouldn’t be willing to do himself” and leading from the front lines( all attributes which are frequently associated with Duke) – HAWK! To those of us who’d been following GI Joe RAH since it debuted in 1982, Duke seemed like some sort of weak Hawk clone, hell they even had the same haircut!
And what’s with that code-name? Is it an allusion to “the Duke”, John Wayne? If so, wouldn’t it make more sense to give a code-name like that to a cowboy themed character like Wild Bill? Sure I know the Duke did his share of noteworthy war epics, but admit it – when someone says “John Wayne” you picture him in a 10 gallon hat, dontcha? If it’s not an attempt to co-opt John Wayne’s coolness/”all American”ness, then what is it? Why name a character who is supposed to be the ultimate defender of American democracy after a European noble title? And why give such an “all American” character such a uber Germanic real name (Conrad Hauser), of course there’s no reason why you can’t have an American of Germanic decent leading the Joes ( I myself am of similar decent), but his name seems like Nordic overkill why not “Mike Hauser” or “John Hauser”?
On top of all this add in the fact that Hasbro seems obsessed with giving us an overabundance of Duke action figures (30 as of this writing, and that doesn’t count all his 12 inch , Sigma Six, Mighty Muggs and Combat Heroes incarnations!) and you can see why even many fans who might’ve actually liked Duke at one point are sick of the guy!
And I hear he's the main character/hero of the upcoming Joe movie - oh joy!
some snapshots I took of Queen Elizabeth II. My personal tribute to an outstanding person, an example for discipline, faith, very special humour. She promised to serve her country until her death. And so it was. May you see the eternal light.
Thank you, Ma'am, for your efforts to reconcile Britain and Germany
I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can't help re-living such moments as these in my dreams, for such moments are something I have very rarely experienced. I am going to dream about you the whole night, the whole week, the whole year. I feel I know you so well that I couldn't have known you better if we'd been friends for twenty years. You won't fail me, will you? Only two minutes, and you've made me happy forever. Yes, happy. Who knows, perhaps you've reconciled me with myself, resolved all my doubts.
When I woke up it seemed to me that some snatch of a tune I had known for a long time, I had heard somewhere before but had forgotten, a melody of great sweetness, was coming back to me now. It seemed to me that it had been trying to emerge from my soul all my life, and only now-
May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life?
Dostoyevski.
The first time I came to Wallingford was by the River Thames on a week long rowing adventure, "Three Men in a Boat" style as we followed in the oar strokes of Jerome K Jerome one hundred and twenty years earlier. We arrived in very different conditions from those you see in this vision of summer haze. After a day of non stop rain I wasn't in the best of moods, and the strange glassy eyed man who stared straight through me as we moored up at the riverbank didn't help matters. Usually just a nod and a brief hello would be enough to make me happy, but the vacant stare into a space somewhere behind me as if I wasn't even there was frankly unnerving. It was only when a plastic tub masquerading as a pleasure cruiser puttered past that his reasons for being there at all became clear as he pulled a compact camera from his pocket and avidly snapped away until it had passed - at which point he returned to the apparent coma in which we'd found him. Strangely, he ignored the gathering of beautifully painted narrowboats completely in his thirst for images of the ubiquitous hire boats that all looked exactly like one another.
Later on my sense of discomfort was tested further, by a visit to a laundrette in town, where the attendant imagined it would be acceptable for her to share an unseemly aside on the telephone conversation she'd just had with a customer - it seemed the person she'd been speaking to may not have been as English as she'd have liked them to be. Why us? Was there something about us that made her think she'd found some common ground? We just wanted to wash and dry our clothes and enjoy a warm dry place for a while after five mostly damp days on the river. My mood continued its downward spiral on the return to the campsite at the sight of an enormous gathering of youngsters - an entire school year it seemed - drinking cider beneath the famous bridge at the end of the school week and gradually increasing in rowdiness as the afternoon moved towards the evening. At least there was the welcoming pub, where we took our dinner and drank ale in the company of other members of the boating community we'd joined for the week. It would have been nice if everyone in the pub had gone home at the same time we'd headed for our beds - it was a long time before sleep came that night.
The second time I came to Wallingford was also by way of the river, on a repeat of the adventure we'd had two years earlier. This time the rain had been replaced by a blistering heatwave. Our arrival at a packed mooring area brought a difficult encounter with a fellow boater - a sour looking man with a droopy moustache who loudly grumbled as we just about managed to squeeze our skiff in behind his cruiser. I'm not good with confrontations. The river was full of swimmers. At length we entered the cooling water where I had a confrontation with some youths who were bullying a younger boy. Things weren't going well, and for the second time I cheered up considerably on ariving in Abingdon twenty four hours later.
The last time I came to Wallingford was by way of the Thames footpath. Another four years had passed. We were part of a family group rowing down the river this time, from Lechlade to Marlow, but for this stretch Ali and I decided to walk some of the way. If we hadn't, we'd never have had this wonderful view across the meadow towards the disctinctive and historic church. It was the middle of another June heatwave. This time it wasn't a Friday and there weren't any racist laundrette assistants, or alarm inducing plastic tub enthusiasts. There weren't any grumpy cruiser captains or drunken fifteen year olds. This time the Oxfordshire town was everything I'd hoped it might be. At last we could romanticise on the town's long and prominent history and its tales of embattled kings and queens from the mists of the past. On the campsite that night I slept outside the tent under the stars and listened to the sounds of the river just a few yards away. Above me the big willow trees on the nearby riverbank gently sighed their whispering lullabies and watched over our vessels as I drifted into sleep. All was well. It seemed that Wallingford and I were reconciled at last.
Fairhaven Historic District
Daniel Harris was born on Long Island, New York, between 1826 and 1833. He left home and spent a few years aboard a whaling ship, during which he sailed the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, and made trips to both the Arctic ocean and Antarctica. In either 1853 or 1854, Harris deserted the whaler whilst in Honolulu, and made his way to the Northwest. By way of Victoria, BC, Harris landed in Bellingham Bay, which at the time was little more than a lumber mill and some small shacks, in the northern town of Whatcom. He finished a small log cabin, started by a previous frontiersman, and settled in at the outlet of Padden Creek, near where 7th and 8th streets would be today. In the early 1860’s, he obtained another 189 acres along the shore, the foundation of which would later become Fairhaven.
Harris was famous in those days for keeping a shaggy appearance, hence the nickname Dirty Dan. He had a scraggly beard, long hair, and was seldom seen wearing shoes. He had a rough-and-tumble look about him. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms, and was roughly 200 pounds. Much of his bulk came from the consistent rowing he did, as he would routinely row his boat from Bellingham Bay to Victoria and back. Why might you ask? Dirty Dan was a smuggler, though in those days the title was less frowned upon than it is now. He routinely rowed and sailed from Bellingham Bay to Victoria and back, exchanging vegetables and smoked salmon for dried goods and alcohol. After a couple of run-ins with the local customs official, including one which required lowering a liquor barrel with his anchor, Harris adjusted his methods and started making the runs at night to avoid customs altogether. Harris’ liquor trade was thriving with the influx of workers for the timber, coal, and gold mining industries, and he even started dabbling in entertainment. Harris is credited with organizing the first prize fight in the region, as well as the first baseball game, in which the local coal miners took on the professional team in the area. There were so many disputes over the rules that Harris brought out a barrel of liquor to keep the tensions from rising.
Shortly after Dan Harris arrived in the Bellingham area, the Fraser Canyon gold rush brought prospectors to the area looking to strike it rich. Though most of the gold was found slightly north in British Columbia, many people stayed in the Bellingham Bay area. This, combined with prosperous logging and coal mining operations, provided the basis for sustained settlement in Whatcom County. Dan Harris soon realized that he could capitalize on this settlement, and in 1883 began platting and selling off his land along the Padden Creek shoreline, and named the new town Fairhaven. Some say Harris named it after the Lummi word, Seeseelichem, which means “port of fair haven.” It consisted of 85 blocks, each of which held eight lots of land. Harris Avenue was the main street. In 1883 alone he sold roughly a third of the plots for what would account to about half a million dollars today, making him rich by the standards of the time.
Though he had always kept his scraggly appearance, his newfound wealth did force him to clean up a bit. He adopted a silk hat, a long coat, some fine trousers, and actually started wearing shoes! He spent some of his profits from the land plots to build a dock, and is said to have loved greeting passengers as they stepped off their boats. He also used the money to build the Fairhaven Hotel, home to the first piano in the area, of which Dirty Dan was very proud. It was over piano playing that he met his love, Bertha Wasmer, daughter of a local Happy Valley farmer. The two would sit at the piano in the Fairhaven Hotel, playing together for many hours. They were married shortly after, but filed for divorce just a year later. After reconciling, they got back together, and decided to move to Los Angeles. Bertha was diagnosed with Tuberculosis, and they thought a move to a warmer climate would help her. Harris sold off most of his remaining land, and they made the move in 1888. Later that year, Bertha Harris died. Dan stayed the remainder of his years in Los Angeles, before dying in 1890.
The founder of Fairhaven was quite the character, and it is thanks to him that the lovely shoreside village exists as we know it today. So if you hear piano music on the wind, whether it’s the next time you walk down Harris Avenue, or linger by his statue on the village green, you can smile, knowing Dirty Dan’s watching over Fairhaven.
Reference: enjoyfairhaven.com/dirty-dan-harris-a-legend-of-fairhaven
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Thank-you for your visit, and any comments or faves are always very much appreciated! Now I am off on vacation to the Oregon Coast for three weeks! Have a Happy Canada Day or a Happy Independence Day everyone!
~Sonja
MY LORD IS RISEN
HE DIED THAT I WILL LIVE
HE WAS MOCKED AT TO TAKE THE SHAME OF MY SINS AWAY
HE WAS SCOURGED SO THAT I GOT HEALED
HIS DEATH CRUSHED THE HEAD OF THE OLD SERPENT
AND STRIPPED DEATH OF ITS POWER
THE TOMB IS EMPTY AND I'M RECONCILED TO GOD
HIS RESURRECTION ANNOUNCED HIM THE CONQUEROR
HE IS SEATED AT THE RIGHT HAND OF THE ALMIGHTY
HIS ENEMIES WILL SERVE AS HIS FOOTREST
HIS TRIUMPH WILL LAST FOREVER...SO WILL MINE
Happy Easter my dear Flickr friends!
Robert Spencer attempted to reconcile the stylistic approach of Impressionism with subject matter that emphasized social concerns,particularly the lives of mill workers along the Delaware River.In the White Tenement he depicted an unromantic view,complete with hanging laundry,of the rear of a tenement that housed mill employees.The severe building with its small Windows,looms ominously over the small figure in the yard,suggesting a hardship of life in the tenements.Yet Spencer mitigated the sense of oppression and the conditions of poverty by rendering the scene with vibrant colors and loose,stippled brushwork.
I like the stippled brushwork.It kinda reminds me of George Seurat's tight dot- like dabs of paint,a technique that was later to be called Pointillism from the French "point" pronounced pwan (I think) meaning dab-Marcos