View allAll Photos Tagged Refuse
Refusing to be independent.
As soon as mom came around, he is crying for food.
I think it takes some time to wean.
I am incredibly excited to invite you to my upcoming exhibition, "Escape the Flat," running this July and August at the Longstaff Memorial Gallery.
💡 The Concept: What if the image refused to remain flat?
This exhibition combines photography with three-dimensional elements. Frames open into physical space, images unfold beyond their edges, and familiar photographs transform into objects that occupy the gallery rather than simply hanging on its walls.
The works explore fragmentation, confinement, memory, and the desire to break free from imposed limits. Some images fracture into floating pieces, others extend beyond their frames, while portals, shadows, and sculptural elements blur the distinction between photograph, object, and environment.
Rather than presenting photography as a finished, static image, Escape the Flat invites viewers to experience it as something that can expand, transform, and escape its own dimensions.
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Location: The Longstaff Memorial Gallery
IMGR1179
Altes Rathaus (Old Town Hall), the most famous sight in Bamberg, sits in its own island in the River Regnitz. It is said that when the bishop of Bamberg refused to grant land for the construction of a town hall, the citizens built the island and the town hall on it.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=88dQn_-5hIM Some Led for the head <3
Thank You
Song by Led Zeppelin
If the sun refused to shine
I would still be loving you
When mountains crumble to the sea
There will still be you and me
Kind a woman, I give you my all
Kind a woman, nothing more
Little drops of rain, whisper of the pain
Tears of love's lost in the days gone by
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong
Together we shall go until we die, my, my, my
Inspiration's what you are to me
Inspiration, look 'n' see
And so, today my world it smiles
Your hand in mine, we walk the miles
Thanks to you, it will be done
For you to me are the only one
Alright, yeah
Happiness, no more be sad
Happiness, I'm glad
If the sun refused to shine
I would still be loving you
Mountains crumble to the sea
There will still be you and me
A dream
We had to bin everything, absolutely everything. There was a big container, a huge one, square shaped, as large as long, and we were putting everything in it. Like, the whole world had to be disposed of. Everything.
But I had a few things that I put aside, though, in an small envelope that I cared to keep, salvage: a key, a few papers carefully folded in four, a scribbled note from an ex-colleague.
A lady passed by, lofty and mean.
She saw everything...
"She refused to let go off me as my life spiralled out of control, the threads holding me here unravelling and breaking apart, and for that she will forever be in my heart"
This might be a slightly silly idea, but I had a lot of fun sharing a small glimpse of what was going on in my head while creating and editing this image and this character. Writing it down felt right in the moment.
For me, it’s never just about the looks.
Editing is the part where my brain goes off on its own little adventure and the character starts to take shape beyond pixels and poses.
Please keep in mind that I’m just a roleplayer whose biggest passion is emoting — not a professional storyteller. And yes… this was also translated from my native language into English, so please be gentle with me. 😅
Still, I hope some of you enjoy getting a peek into Arawn’s backstory. And if not — hey, at least I had fun doing it.
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Arawn was born where the water never forgets.
In the drowned groves beneath the world—where roots strangled the light and rivers murmured names no living throat should shape—he learned early that mercy decays faster than bone. The spirits there did not raise him. They claimed him. Fed him lies sweet as honey. Wrapped living vines around his wrists and called it protection.
He was beautiful even then.
That was his first curse.
They crowned him with antlers grown from living wood, not as a blessing but as a tether—proof that he belonged to the wild dark, to a bargain he had never agreed to. Power gathered in him like still water: patient, cold, inevitable. He learned to take what he needed. He learned that love, when offered, always carried a hook.
And in the water’s memory—long before Rowan was born—
their name already waited.
The spirits whispered it not as prophecy, but as warning. A flaw in the pattern. A future threaded into root and river alike that would not bow. Something the forest could not own.
They knew Arawn could be claimed.
He was dangerous, yes—but predictable. He could be bound with antlers. Tethered with ritual. Fed devotion until he mistook it for choice.
Rowan was not.
The spirits felt Rowan first as an absence—a hollow where roots refused to grow straight and rivers forgot which way they were meant to flow. Where futures forked and refused to settle. Rowan was not born of the forest, nor sworn to it.
They were not meant to kneel.
The spirits tried to erase them. Names misplaced. Paths misaligned. Chances quietly drowned before they could surface. But Rowan kept surviving—kept walking forward—kept becoming unavoidable.
By the time the upper world learned Arawn’s name, he was already a villain in their mouths.
The Forest King.
The Whisper in the Mire.
The one who traded salvation for obedience.
He conquered not with armies, but with want. Cities fell because people knelt willingly. He never corrected them.
But sometimes—rarely—Arawn would hear it again.
A name carried on running water. A presence just beyond the treeline. Not a command. Not a prayer.
A pull.
(You can find the rest on my FB Page)
I was photographing hummingbirds at the farm when this rabbit chose to graze nearby. The rabbits there are very bold, and this may be the one that refused to get out of the dahlia bed.
131-1 N. Xiangyang Rd., Shanghai
The "QR code for the place" on the wall outside the window is a new-born relic of the past, after six months of monitoring the lives of the residents, as China has completely abandoned its anti-epidemic restrictions.
Theoretically, each customer was supposed to scan the "QR code for the place" with his/her smartphone, which then displayed a so-called "health QR code": if it was green, it meant there is no problem, if it was yellow, the customer would be refused and, if it was red, everyone, whether the customer with the red QR code or the shop assistants who were present, would be arrested and taken to a concentration camp for quarantine.
Watch this video, so adorable:
www.sbnation.com/lookit/2016/1/23/10819134/dedicated-snow...
We're having a blizzard here, possibly 18"-24" of snow. In our area, Northern NJ, might be a little less. Anyway, the deers couldn't come around a better time for me to record their activity.
今天中西部及東海岸遇到了暴風雪，可能下雪18“-24”。在我們的地區，新澤西州北部，可能會少一些。無論如何，鹿時間來得好讓我記錄他們的活動。
For once, I had a surfeit of unusual Wing Wednesday shots but I decided to use this rather cute one of the Swans and Cygnets at Lake Eden, North Lakes just in the City of Moreton Bay north of Brisbane. A small section of the lake has a concrete platform where turtles and water birds can come close to humans for moments of learning and interaction for all like this.
Sadly though, it encourages incorrect feeding by humans, food which of course the birds never refuse.
It's a great spot to shoot interactions between people and wildlife though. I love the introductions of kids to kids in this image.
This sentinel refused to review my references from a local Richardson's Squirrel colony, and thus limited my access to its confreres during my brief recent visit.
Refuse chute (no longer used) on an upper floor of Keeling House, a modernist apartment block in Bethnal Green, East London. Designed by Denys Lasdun and completed in 1957.
"In aiding Israel’s mass attacks on Palestinians in Gaza, Britain is implementing an agreement openly signed with Netanyahu’s far-right coalition – which has been almost entirely ignored in the UK national media. ... ( ) ... Since Israel’s attacks, British ministers have thoroughly put this into practice. They have consistently apologised for Israel’s atrocities in the name of “self-defence” and have repeatedly point blank refused to condemn Israel’s violations of international law..@ - 04/2024 - www.declassifieduk.org/uk-military-support-for-israels-ge...
▪️▪️▪️ Mwyar duon, Caerfyrddin/ Blackberries, Carmarthen
The way our country is being led astray, even mannequins find their way to tears.
Our flag is in the bricks that built each city. Our namesake is in the hard working immigrants who helped put together our cities brick by brick. We shall not shun them. We shall take back these cities if they are destroyed by fascists. We shall make them safe and welcome everyone.
For, this is what it truly means to be American...it has been written on our Statue of Liberty:
"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Nashville, Tennessee.
Revelation 13:15 “And power was granted him to give breath to the statue of the Wild Beast, so that the statue of the Wild Beast could even speak and cause all who refuse to worship it to be put to death.”
“Young People Who Refuse To Do National Service Could Lose 'Access To Finance', Rishi Sunak Reveals”
Das Politische Gequake ist untragbar geworden.
Don't follow the antichrist.
For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work, but only until the one who now restrains it is removed. And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will destroy with the breath of his mouth, annihilating him by the manifestation of his coming. The coming of the lawless one is apparent in the working of Satan, who uses all power, signs, lying wonders, and every kind of wicked deception for those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved.
Have a great weekend!:-]
Thank you all my dears Flickr friends for your sweet comments! I do appreciate them very, very much
NO INVITES FOR GROUPS PLEASE!!!
(only I accept invitation of the administrators)
In Wordpress In Blogger photo.net/photos/Reinante/ In Onexposure
Mudéjar is the name given to the Moors or Muslims of Al-Andalus who remained in Christian territory after the Reconquista but were not converted to Christianity. It also denotes a style of Iberian architecture and decoration, particularly of Aragon and Castile, of the 12th to 16th centuries, strongly influenced by Moorish taste and workmanship.
The word Mudéjar is a Medieval Spanish corruption of the Arabic word Mudajjan مدجن, meaning "domesticated", in a reference to the Muslims who have submitted to the rule of the Christian kings.
After the fall of Granada in January of 1492, Mudéjars kept their status for some time. However, they were forced to convert to Christianity in the mid 16th century, and were known as Moriscos from that time until those who refused to convert to Christianity were expelled in 1610. Their distinctive style is still evident in architecture as well as the music, art, and crafts of the region.
A squat, brown, ibis-like bird with a bushy-crested “hammer-head”; often found near wetlands or rivers. In flight, it has distinctively deep wingbeats and may occasionally soar very high, when the long neck separates it from raptors. It struts about in wetlands foraging for frogs, fish, and insects. It needs nearby large trees for building its giant (1.5-m-across) stick nest. (eBird)
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Watching us watching them! This pair were perched on the dock near where we took a canoe to see the Shoebill. Sadly, they refused to turn their heads enough to show the distinctive, hammer-head crest, although you get an impression of the shape with the bird on the right.
Mabamba Swamp, Uganda. January 2017.
Uganda Eco-Tours.
December 2025: This male Brown-throated Sunbird refused to give way to this (looks like) Yellow-banded Grass Skimmer - Singapore Botanic Gardens, Singapore 🇸🇬
My Day With Rodvik Linden Blog Meme...
Blogged...
www.lilmissfashioncupcake.com/2013/07/my-day-with-rodvik-...
For Sim Landmarks, visit my blog!
All the others can't wait to... leave (sorry not sorry), but the Chinese maple refuses to go gently into that good winter.
There are places where time refuses to obey the frantic pulse of the world—where it lingers, stretching each moment into something more profound. Here, the clock does not chase, it invites.
The wind moves lazily, whispering through the trees like an old friend recounting a story from long ago. The waves roll in slow, rhythmic procession, neither hurried nor waiting—just being. Footsteps leave imprints in the sand, not as passing marks, but as memories etched into the earth, held there until the tide decides otherwise.
In this place, conversations drift like clouds, untethered from urgency. The warmth of the sun is no longer just heat—it is presence, wrapping around shoulders like a familiar embrace. Even silence feels full, expansive, as if it has something to say.
There is no race here. No deadlines to meet. Only the quiet certainty that right now—this breath, this sky, this heartbeat—is enough. Time slows, not because it must, but because it understands.