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Hip Hop is an acquired taste. It's loud, it's abrasive and plenty times vulgar. Growing up in NYC surrounded by the ethnic working-class there was always new lingo to learn. When you're a 90's kid okay, you learn to deal with what the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air teaches you: phat, dope, wack... check, check and check! Fast forward to my late twenties and I'm a front end supervisor for that well known Arts & Crafts big-box store and most of my team are fluent in ebonics while I'm utterly left behind. They are dropping new words like 'lit' and 'fire' and 'ratchet' which for a long time I thought was wretched. So I would, in good faith, say things like "Oh, that is wretched!" -- One time I was in a convenience store with some friends and this short Latino with gold teeth, face tattoos and a heavy swag was bantering with his co-workers. He glanced at us once and sighed then saying, "Aight I'mma go make downstairs Gucci." And dear me, I didn't think to ask any of my friends what he meant but I dwelled on it for the rest of the day before the meaning finally dawned on me! GUCCI; like the opulent luxury brand. Downstairs was a mess and he was going to make it fancy and clean like the Gucci brand.
So back to Hip Hop. I started easy. I really liked Macklemore and Black Eyed Peas and eventually, Justin Bieber joined the genre. More Pop than Hip Hop but hey whatever, I got my foot through the door. Not bad for someone who once nervously handed a cashier my soon-to-be copy of Backstreet Boys Millenium; she easily sensed my fear as she smacked her lips then saying, "Not you too" as she rang me up. Yes, me too. I was a teen and a sucker for Pop music. I would have worn a ski mask to buy this album if I could, lady. My music taste is broad as I love everything! Mostly. Or at least I try to. My playlist goes from Post Malone to Bach. Music is very personal. I've met Rock & Rollers who would lynch you if you mentioned Nickelback. It's just the way the world works. Music is a part of our identities and sometimes one of the most relatable aspects of our humanity. And if we share that on a common level, it opens up an instantaneous connection paving the path to a meaningful relationship. That is until you fight over whether or not pineapples deserve to be on pizza's (They don't. Fight me.) It's 2020 and I find myself craving Hip Hop. It reminds me of NYC where part of me will forever be no matter where in the world I am. This year the word is WAP. If you don't know what it means by now, don't worry, someone will let you know but it won't be me!
Find the WAP Hot Girl Fountain at this month's Kinky Event starting July 28th, 7 PM SLT. Or window browse early. You do you.
Fountain Preview GIF: gyazo.com/f8286fd024378ae80e03d3edc1da5e98
The Fountain is sold without flora. If you would like the Lillies used here are the credits:
LOTUS by Tia Biscuit L$80 ([Tia] Madison - Pond Lillies)
• Inworld: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Tia/113/78/1501
• Marketplace: NOT AVAILABLE
LILYPADS by Cube Republic L$399 (Frogbit Aquatic Pond Plant)
• Inworld: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Gloria/227/227/3512
• Marketplace: marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Frogbit-Aquatic-Pond-Plant-MESH-MATERIALS/6815506
[ Landmarks and Marketplace Listings are accurate as of August 2020 ]
Some impressive hummingbird facts relate to their flying skills. Unlike any other species of bird, hummingbirds can fly backwards. Even more incredibly, it has recently been discovered that this is actually an efficient means of moving, and requires roughly the same energy as flying forwards. Flying backwards allows hummingbirds to cheerfully reverse from flowers after they feed, saving energy and looking seriously impressive into the bargain.
I felt like I could understand this guy.
I'm having an Icelandic-Horse themed week with my photography, and this guy is a prime specimen of what it means to be an horse of Iceland, in my opinion. Long and luxurious mane, sturdy body, longer hair all around... and friendly! We were struck by how happy the horses were to come up to the fence and hang out with us whenever we came by to visit #horsesoficeland #icelandichorses
This moment before Houdini's daring feat is just one of the photographic slices of time featured in the “Not an Ostrich” exhibition currently on display in Los Angeles, California. Read more about the photos included in the exhibit in our recent Picture This blog post “Not an Ostrich”—Exhibition of Library of Congress Photos.”
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Thurston, John H. (John Henry), 1852-, photographer
[Houdini jumps from Harvard Bridge, Boston, Massachusetts] / John H. Thurston, stereopticons
[1908 April 30]
1 photograph : glass lantern slide ; 82 x 102 mm.
Summary: Photograph shows Houdini standing by the side of the Charles River wearing chains and handcuffs.
Notes:
• Title devised by Library staff.
• Master of the "Impossible Possible," Houdini performs one of his stunning manacled jumps from Harvard Bridge, followed by an under-water escape in the Charles River. As with his upside-down straitjacket escapes, Houdini's jumps drew huge crowds and publicized his stage appearances. In 1908, he appeared in Boston for two weeks at Keith's theater, a major venue on the Keith Vaudeville Circuit.
• Forms part of: McManus-Young collection of pictorial material relating to magic.
• Exhibited as a digital copy in: "Not an Ostrich: And Other Images from America's Library" at the Annenberg Space for Photography, 2018; Arts section.
Subjects:
• Houdini, Harry,--1874-1926--Performances.
• Magic--Massachusetts--Boston--1900-1910.
• Magicians--1900-1910.
• Bridges--Massachusetts--Boston--1900-1910.
• Jumping--Massachusetts--Boston--1900-1910.
• Handcuffs--1900-1910.
• Escapes--Massachusetts--Boston--1900-1910.
Format:
Lantern slides--1900-1910.
Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication.
Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print
Higher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3a27316
Call Number: LOT 7427 [item]
This is a replica of the Bell X-2 rocket plane serial 46-674. It has apparently been a prop in a number of films including Space Cowboys and had been on display at Planes of Fame but is now sadly dismantled in a poor state.
The following is from Joe Baugher's website relating to the original aircraft.
46-674 assigned to NACA High-Speed Flight Research Station, Edwards AFB, CA. Following a drop launch from a modified B-50 bomber, the first unpowered glide flight of an X-2 at Edwards Air Force Base took place on June 27, 1952. First powered flight 18 November 1955. Made seven glide flights, 10 powered flights.
Lost Sep 27, 1956 after completing first ever Mach 3 flight when Capt. Milburn Apt lost control of the plane and crashed 20 mi E of Edwards AFB, CA. Capt Apt was killed.
“Urban art is a style of art that relates to cities and city life. In that way urban art combines street art and graffiti and is often used to summarize all visual art forms arising in urban areas, being inspired by urban architecture or thematizing urban live style.
The notion of 'Urban Art' developed from street art that is primarily concerned with graffiti culture. Urban art represents a broader cross section of artists that as well as covering traditional street artists also covers artists using more traditional media but with a subject matter that deals with contemporary urban culture and political issues.”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urban_art
“Wild Flowers are not weeds"
Street Art is the modern, urban wildflowers
What's the difference between Graffiti Tagging and Street Art?
1. Street Art is constructive, Graffiti Tagging is destructive.
2. Street Art adorns the urban landscape, Graffiti Tagging scars it and accelerates urban decay.
3. Street Art stretches your mind, Graffiti Tagging is a slap in your face.
4. Street Art is about the audience, Graffiti Tagging is about the tagger.
5. Street Art says "Have you thought about this?", Graffiti Tagging says "I tag, therefore I exist".
6. Street Art was done with a smile, Graffiti Tagging was done with a scowl.
7. Street Art takes skill, Graffiti Tagging takes balls.
8. We mourn losing Street Art and celebrate losing Graffiti Tagging.
Good Street Art is great, good Graffiti Tagging is gone!
”http://www.graffitiactionhero.org/graffiti-tag-vs-street-art.html
Additional interesting sites
www.osnatfineart.com/urban-art.jsp
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_art
Graffiti_27 LR
I can't say how often I've driven Messenger Road, a potholed passage which never really goes where I'm going. It's a bridge between things, like so much of my life seems to be. It's a metaphor in my mind for a kind of prophecy, the sort you say and then go about trying to make come true. Things to share and the drive to share them, I've got more of that than most. I was once accused of being a "wannabe profit", and though the typo is accurate in the sense that I could use the money, the term "prophet" doesn't really fit me. There is no targeted truth in what I'm writing, no big vision or dream to relate. I'm not planning on predicting the future, only trying to do that old tribal thing. Campfire tales and cave paintings, so we can look back on our lives and back at our faces, and see something that keeping our thoughts to ourselves couldn't show.
November 20, 2022
Paradise, Nova Scotia
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The title of this relates to an article I read some time ago by Ken Rockwell, www.kenrockwell.com/index.htm, in which he explains what is "Good Bokeh", I found it interesting because I happen to be one of those people that think the word good when describing a medium such as photography is subjective and even sometimes what is generally "bad" can be "good" every now and again, if you know what I mean. He even has a chart showing what "poor", "neutral" and "good" bokeh looks like, and I am proud to say I have achieved what I think he describes as "neutral" or "poor" bokeh. Yeah for me!!! :-)))
In truth, I don't disagree with him in looking at this image there is something a little too harsh in the blobs of light here. It certainly is not the "smooth and silky" kind of bokeh. But you know after drinking a few of those glasses of what is in the foreground, nothing was in focus, and that is clearly seen in this image (as nothing in the shot is clearly in focus), so I call the shot a success!! :-))))
Here is a link to the entire story (which is a great read, seriously), www.kenrockwell.com/tech/bokeh.htm, and an excerpt is below.
"Bokeh describes the appearance, or "feel," of out-of-focus areas. Bokeh is not how far something is out-of-focus, bokeh is the character of whatever blur is there.
Unfortunately good bokeh doesn't happen automatically in lens design. Perfect lenses render out-of-focus points of light as circles with sharp edges. Ideal bokeh would render each of these points as blurs, not hard-edged circles."
So I guess I have a good lens and a "neutral" or perhaps "poor" bokeh shot to show for it! All of this is posted in good spirits, hope it reads that way! Cheers!!! :-))
HBW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Whilst looking at things relating to Plaxton of Scarborough, its probably worth sharing this picture too. I think it was taken on the occasion of a coach operators association visit.
To the fore we have a very nice Supreme bodied Leyland Leopard for Martindales of Ferryhill, PPT 400P . . . which helps date the pictures to '75/6.
The next two Supremes in line are, I suspect, two Bedford YMTs for Harry Shaw of Coventry, NVC 3 & 10P. Further down is the only sevice bus in view which would probably be a Ford 'Derwent' for East Kent.
Just by looking at the candles that were lit on fire in the name of asking, inspire me to wish, to love, and to live. It is the most wonderful time during winter holidays at Gortto Portland, OR. I wish our technology could advance to the level where photography could not only visualize, but transform feelings, emotions and sensations. When I stood by those candles assembling a shot on a night cold December day, its warmth warmed my heart.
What makes this photograph truly amazing is that it involves multiple techniques. Repetition of lines with broken element at the rule of thirds, a story starter of the person who broke that pattern and surely its great content of what we see. Photograph relates to the religious epistemology, therefore might arise questions of its audience. However, not only people with religious believes are welcomed at that place, those like me(neutral) can come and gaze the beauty of such.
Part 2
Dedicated To ;
Tswa 3yone ; ردآ على الي ينآفسني بغلآلآك آلخلآ ثم آلخلآ ثم آلخلآ ;Pp,, احبج ف الله صديقتي
All rights reserved by © Attirance
Sorry comments that doesn't relate to the photo & copy paste will be deleted.
comment dont just views .
I looked around for some objects I thought would relate well with these shadows and in the end looked in my art cupboard - one that rarely gets opened these days. I found a few coloured pencils and similar which I picked up rrandomly to place in the picture..
Thank you everyone so much for sharing your quality photos which is a great way to see and keep in touch with the world from home. Also for your kind comments and favours which are much valued. I am not able to take on any more members to follow or to post to groups. I prefer not to receive invites to groups
Adjective
1. Characterised by lightness and insubstantiality; intangible.
2. Highly refined; delicate.
3. Heavenly or spiritual [Greek aithēr ether]
... a Of the celestial spheres; heavenly.
... b Not of this world; spiritual.
4. Chemistry. Of or relating to ether.
Dedicated to Kounelli for being the first person to comment on this shot, and to the volcanic sharrockmary for being a close second.
Uses: Anything relating to finance and money.
Free Creative Commons Finance Images... I created these images in my studio and have made them all available for personal or commercial use. Hope you like them and find them useful.
To see more of our CC by 2.0 finance images click here... see profile for attribution.
Uses: Anything relating to finance and money.
Free Creative Commons Finance Images... I created these images in my studio and have made them all available for personal or commercial use. Hope you like them and find them useful.
To see more of our CC by 2.0 finance images click here... see profile for attribution.
Various trees of life are recounted in folklore, culture and fiction, often relating to immortality or fertility. They had their origin in religious symbolism.
Ancient Iran
In pre-Islamic Persian mythology, the Gaokerena world tree is a large, sacred Haoma tree which bears all seeds. Ahriman (Ahreman, Angremainyu) created a frog to invade the tree and destroy it, aiming to prevent all trees from growing on the earth. As a reaction, God (Ahura Mazda) created two kar fish staring at the frog to guard the tree. The two fishes are always staring at the frog and stay ready to react to it. Because Ahriman is responsible for all evil including death, while Ahura Mazda is responsible for all good (including life) the concept of world tree in Persian Mythology is very closely related to the concept of Tree of Life.The sacred plant haoma and the drink made from it. The preparation of the drink from the plant by pounding and the drinking of it are central features of Zoroastrian ritual. Haoma is also personified as a divinity. It bestows essential vital qualities—health, fertility, husbands for maidens, even immortality. The source of the earthly haoma plant is a shining white tree that grows on a paradisiacal mountain. Sprigs of this white haoma were brought to earth by divine birds.Haoma is the Avestan form of the Sanskrit soma. The near identity of the two in ritual significance is considered by scholars to point to a salient feature of an Indo-Iranian religion antedating Zoroastrianism.
Another related issue in ancient mythology of Iran is the myth of Mashyа and Mashyane, two trees who were the ancestors of all living beings. This myth can be considered as a prototype for the creation myth where living beings are created by Gods (who have a human form).
Ancient Egypt
Worshipping Osiris, Isis, and Horus
To the Ancient Egyptians, the Tree of Life represented the hierarchical chain of events that brought every thing into existence. The spheres of the Tree of Life demonstrate the order, process, and method of creation.In Egyptian mythology, in the Ennead system of Heliopolis, the first couple, apart from Shu and Tefnut (moisture and dryness) are Geb and Nuit (earth and sky), are Isis and Osiris. They were said to have emerged from the acacia tree of Iusaaset, which the Egyptians considered the tree of life, referring to it as the "tree in which life and death are enclosed." Some acacia trees contain DMT, a psychedelic drug associated with spiritual experiences. The drug is not orally bio-available, however and there is no evidence the Egyptians had techniques for extracting or otherwise harnessing the drug. A much later myth relates how Set and 72 conspirators killed Osiris, putting him in a coffin, and throwing it into the Nile, the coffin becoming embedded in the base of a tamarisk tree.The Egyptians' Holy Sycamore also stood on the threshold of life and death, connecting the two worlds.
Assyria
Assyrian tree of life, from Nimrud panels.The Assyrian Tree of Life was represented by a series of nodes and criss-crossing lines. It was apparently an important religious symbol, often attended to in Assyrian palace reliefs by human or eagle-headed winged genies, or the King, and blessed or fertilized with bucket and cone. Assyriologists have not reached consensus as to the meaning of this symbol. The name "Tree of Life" has been attributed to it by modern scholarship; it is not used in the Assyrian sources. In fact, no textual evidence pertaining to the symbol is known to exist.
Baha'i Faith
The concept of the tree of life appears in the writings of the Baha'i Faith, where it can refer to the Manifestation of God, a great teacher who appears to humanity from age to age. An example of this can be found in the Hidden Words of Bahá'u'lláh:["Have ye forgotten that true and radiant morn, when in those hallowed and blessed surroundings ye were all gathered in My presence beneath the shade of the tree of life, which is planted in the all-glorious paradise? Awestruck ye listened as I gave utterance to these three most holy words: O friends! Prefer not your will to Mine, never desire that which I have not desired for you, and approach Me not with lifeless hearts, defiled with worldly desires and cravings. Would ye but sanctify your souls, ye would at this present hour recall that place and those surroundings, and the truth of My utterance should be made evident unto all of you."Also, in the Tablet of Ahmad [1], of Bahá'u'lláh:"Verily He is the Tree of Life, that bringeth forth the fruits of God, the Exalted, the Powerful, the Great".Bahá'u'lláh refers to his male descendents as branches (Aghsán) and calls women leaves.
A distinction has been made between the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The latter represents the physical world with its opposites, such as good and evil and light and dark. In a different context from the one above, the tree of life represents the spiritual realm, where this duality does not exist.
Buddhism
The Bo tree, also called Bodhi tree, according to Buddhist tradition, is the pipal (Ficus religiosa) under which the Buddha sat when he attained Enlightenment (Bodhi) at Bodh Gaya (near Gaya, west-central Bihar state, India). A living pipal at Anuradhapura, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), is said to have grown from a cutting from the Bo tree sent to that city by King Ashoka in the 3rd century BCE.According to Tibetan tradition when Buddha went to the holy Lake Manasorovar along with 500 monks, he took with him the energy of Prayaga Raj. Upon his arrival, he installed the energy of Prayaga Raj near Lake Manasorovar, at a place now known as Prayang. Then he planted the seed of this eternal banyan tree next to Mt. Kailash on a mountain known as the "Palace of Medicine Buddha".
China
In Chinese mythology, a carving of a Tree of Life depicts a phoenix and a dragon; the dragon often represents immortality. A Taoist story tells of a tree that produces a peach every three thousand years. The one who eats the fruit receives immortality.An archaeological discovery in the 1990s was of a sacrificial pit at Sanxingdui in Sichuan, China. Dating from about 1200 BCE, it contained three bronze trees, one of them 4 meters high. At the base was a dragon, and fruit hanging from the lower branches. At the top is a strange bird-like (phoenix) creature with claws. Also found in Sichuan, from the late Han dynasty (c 25 – 220 CE), is another tree of life. The ceramic base is guarded by a horned beast with wings. The leaves of the tree are coins and people. At the apex is a bird with coins and the Sun.
Christianity
In Catholic Christianity, the Tree of Life represents the immaculate state of humanity free from corruption and Original Sin before the Fall. Pope Benedict XVI has said that "the Cross is the true tree of life." Saint Bonaventure taught that the medicinal fruit of the Tree of Life is Christ himself. Saint Albert the Great taught that the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ, is the Fruit of the Tree of Life.[18] Augustine of Hippo said that the tree of life is Christ: "All these things stood for something other than what they were, but all the same they were themselves bodily realities. And when the narrator mentioned them he was not employing figurative language, but giving an explicit account of things which had a forward reference that was figurative. So then the tree of life also was Christ... and indeed God did not wish the man to live in Paradise without the mysteries of spiritual things being presented to him in bodily form. So then in the other trees he was provided with nourishment, in this one with a sacrament... He is rightly called whatever came before him in order to signify him."[19]
The tree first appeared in Genesis 2:9 and 3:22-24 as the source of eternal life in the Garden of Eden, from which access is revoked when man is driven from the garden. It then reappears in the last book of the Bible, the Book of Revelation, and most predominantly in the last chapter of that book (Chapter 22) as a part of the new garden of paradise. Access is then no longer forbidden, for those who "wash their robes" (or as the textual variant in the King James Version has it, "they that do his commandments") "have right to the tree of life" (v.14). A similar statement appears in Rev 2:7, where the tree of life is promised as a reward to those who overcome. Revelation 22 begins with a reference to the "pure river of water of life" which proceeds "out of the throne of God". The river seems to feed two trees of life, one "on either side of the river" which "bear twelve manner of fruits" "and the leaves of the tree were for healing of the nations" (v.1-2).[20] Or this may indicate that the tree of life is a vine that grows on both sides of the river, as John 15:1 would hint at.
In Eastern Christianity the tree of life is the love of God.The tree of life appears in the Book of Mormon in a revelation to Lehi (see 1 Nephi 8:10). It is symbolic of the love of God (see 1 Nephi 11:21-23). Its fruit is described as "most precious and most desirable above all other fruits," which "is the greatest of all the gifts of God" (see 1 Nephi 15:36). In another scriptural book, salvation is called "the greatest of all the gifts of God" (see Doctrine and Covenants 6:13). In the same book eternal life is also called the "greatest of all the gifts of God" (see Doctrine and Covenants 14:7). Because of these references, the tree of life and its fruit is sometimes understood to be symbolic of salvation and post-mortal existence in the presence of God and his love.
Europe
11th century Tree of Life sculpture at an ancient Swedish church
In Dictionnaire Mytho-Hermetique (Paris, 1737), Antoine-Joseph Pernety, a famous alchemist, identified the Tree of Life with the Elixir of Life and the Philosopher's Stone.
In Eden in the East (1998), Stephen Oppenheimer suggests that a tree-worshipping culture arose in Indonesia and was diffused by the so-called "Younger Dryas" event of c. 8000 BCE, when the sea level rose. This culture reached China (Szechuan), then India and the Middle East. Finally the Finno-Ugaritic strand of this diffusion spread through Russia to Finland where the Norse myth of Yggdrasil took root.
Georgia
The Borjgali (Georgian: ბორჯღალი) is an ancient Georgian Tree of Life symbol.
Germanic paganism and Norse mythology[
In Germanic paganism, trees played (and, in the form of reconstructive Heathenry and Germanic Neopaganism, continue to play) a prominent role, appearing in various aspects of surviving texts and possibly in the name of gods.
The tree of life appears in Norse religion as Yggdrasil, the world tree, a massive tree (sometimes considered a yew or ash tree) with extensive lore surrounding it. Perhaps related to Yggdrasil, accounts have survived of Germanic Tribes' honouring sacred trees within their societies. Examples include Thor's Oak, sacred groves, the Sacred tree at Uppsala, and the wooden Irminsul pillar. In Norse Mythology, the apples from Iðunn's ash box provide immortality for the gods.
Hinduism
The Eternal Banyan Tree (Akshaya Vata) is located on the bank of the Yamuna inside the courtyard of Allahabad Fort near the confluence of the Yamuna and Ganga Rivers in Allahabad. The eternal and divine nature of this tree has been documented at length in the scriptures.[citation needed]
During the cyclic destruction of creation when the whole earth was enveloped by waters, akshaya vata remained unaffected. It is on the leaves of this tree that Lord Krishna rested in the form of a baby when land was no longer visible. And it is here that the immortal sage, Markandeya, received the cosmic vision of the Lord. It is under this tree that Buddha meditates eternally. Legend also has it that the Bodi tree at Gaya is a manifestation of this tree.
Islam
Carpet Tree of Life
Main article: Quranic tree of life
See also: Sidrat al-Muntaha
The "Tree of Immortality" (Arabic: شجرة الخلود) is the tree of life motif as it appears in the Quran. It is also alluded to in hadiths and tafsir. Unlike the biblical account, the Quran mentions only one tree in Eden, also called the tree of immortality, which Allah specifically forbade to Adam and Eve. Satan, disguised as a serpent, repeatedly told Adam to eat from the tree, and eventually both Adam and Eve did so, thus disobeying Allah.] The hadiths also speak about other trees in heaven.
According to the Ahmadiyya movement, Quranic reference to the tree is symbolic; eating of the forbidden tree signifies that Adam disobeyed God.[
Jewish sources
Main articles: Etz Chaim and Biblical tree of life
Etz Chaim, Hebrew for "tree of life," is a common term used in Judaism. The expression, found in the Book of Proverbs, is figuratively applied to the Torah itself. Etz Chaim is also a common name for yeshivas and synagogues as well as for works of Rabbinic literature. It is also used to describe each of the wooden poles to which the parchment of a Sefer Torah is attached.The tree of life is mentioned in the Book of Genesis; it is distinct from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. After Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they were driven out of the Garden of Eden. Remaining in the garden, however, was the tree of life. To prevent their access to this tree in the future, Cherubim with a flaming sword were placed at the east of the garden. (Genesis 3:22-24)
In the Book of Proverbs, the tree of life is associated with wisdom: "[Wisdom] is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy [is every one] that retaineth her." (Proverbs 3:13-18) In 15:4 the tree of life is associated with calmness: "A soothing tongue is a tree of life; but perverseness therein is a wound to the spirit."
The Book of Enoch, generally considered non-canonical, states that in the time of the great judgment God will give all those whose names are in the Book of Life fruit to eat from the Tree of Life.
Kathara grid
The esoteric bio-spiritual healing system of kathara which is presented on Earth by the official Speaker of the Guardian Alliance – E’Asha Ashayana,explains in detail the function of the code of the kathara grid] as the natural tree of life. Kathara reveals the anatomy of Creation, core structure, the blueprints & interconnectedness of all matter forms and in the center is the replication of the kathara grid everywhere.The kathara grid consists of 12 kathara centers and the relationships between them represent the true meaning of the phrase "As above, so below" and the correspondence between microcosmos and macrocosmos.
Kabbalah. Judaic Kabbalah Tree of Life 10 Sephirot, through which the Ein Sof unknowable Divine manifests Creation. The configuration relates to manJewish mysticism depicts the Tree of Life in the form of ten interconnected nodes, as the central symbol of the Kabbalah. It comprises the ten Sephirot powers in the Divine realm. The panentheistic and anthropomorphic emphasis of this emanationist theology interpreted the Torah, Jewish observance, and the purpose of Creation as the symbolic esoteric drama of unification in the Sephirot, restoring harmony to Creation. From the time of the Renaissance onwards, Jewish Kabbalah became incorporated as an important tradition in non-Jewish Western culture, first through its adoption by Christian Cabala, and continuing in Western esotericism occult Hermetic Qabalah. These adapted the Judaic Kabbalah Tree of Life syncretically by associating it with other religious traditions, esoteric theologies, and magical practices.
Mesoamerican
The concept of world trees is a prevalent motif in pre-Columbian Mesoamerican cosmologies and iconography. World trees embodied the four cardinal directions, which represented also the fourfold nature of a central world tree, a symbolic axis mundi connecting the planes of the Underworld and the sky with that of the terrestrial world.Depictions of world trees, both in their directional and central aspects, are found in the art and mythological traditions of cultures such as the Maya, Aztec, Izapan, Mixtec, Olmec, and others, dating to at least the Mid/Late Formative periods of Mesoamerican chronology. Among the Maya, the central world tree was conceived as or represented by a ceiba tree, and is known variously as a wacah chan or yax imix che, depending on the Mayan language.[32] The trunk of the tree could also be represented by an upright caiman, whose skin evokes the tree's spiny trunk.Directional world trees are also associated with the four Yearbearers in Mesoamerican calendars, and the directional colors and deities. Mesoamerican codices which have this association outlined include the Dresden, Borgia and Fejérváry-Mayer codices.[31] It is supposed that Mesoamerican sites and ceremonial centers frequently had actual trees planted at each of the four cardinal directions, representing the quadripartite concept.World trees are frequently depicted with birds in their branches, and their roots extending into earth or water (sometimes atop a "water-monster," symbolic of the underworld). The central world tree has also been interpreted as a representation of the band of the Milky Way.
Middle East
The Epic of Gilgamesh is a similar quest for immortality. In Mesopotamian mythology, Etana searches for a 'plant of birth' to provide him with a son. This has a solid provenance of antiquity, being found in cylinder seals from Akkad (2390–2249 BCE).The Book of One Thousand and One Nights has a story, 'The Tale of Buluqiya', in which the hero searches for immortality and finds a paradise with jewel-encrusted trees. Nearby is a Fountain of Youth guarded by Al-Khidr. Unable to defeat the guard, Buluqiya has to return empty-handed.
North American
In a myth passed down among the Iroquois, The World on the Turtle's Back, explains the origin of the land in which a tree of life is described. According to the myth, it is found in the heavens, where the first humans lived, until a pregnant woman fell and landed in an endless sea. Saved by a giant turtle from drowning, she formed the world on its back by planting bark taken from the tree.The tree of life motif is present in the traditional Ojibway cosmology and traditions. It is sometimes described as Grandmother Cedar, or Nookomis Giizhig in Anishinaabemowin.In the book Black Elk Speaks, Black Elk, an Oglala Lakota (Sioux) wičháša wakȟáŋ (medicine man and holy man), describes his vision in which after dancing around a dying tree that has never bloomed he is transported to the other world (spirit world) where he meets wise elders, 12 men and 12 women. The elders tell Black Elk that they will bring him to meet "Our Father, the two-legged chief" and bring him to the center of a hoop where he sees the tree in full leaf and bloom and the "chief" standing against the tree. Coming out of his trance he hopes to see that the earthly tree has bloomed, but it is dead
Serer religion
In Serer religion, the tree of life as a religious concept forms the basis of Serer cosmogony. Trees were the first things created on Earth by the supreme being Roog (or Koox among the Cangin). In the competing versions of the Serer creation myth, the Somb (Prosopis africana) and the Saas tree (acacia albida) are both viewed as trees of life. However, the prevailing view is that, the Somb was the first tree on Earth and the progenitor of plant life. The Somb was also used in the Serer tumuli and burial chambers, many of which had survived for more than a thousand years.Thus, Somb is not only the Tree of Life in Serer society, but the symbol of immortality
Urartian Tree of Life
In ancient Urartu, the Tree of Life was a religious symbol and was drawn on walls of fortresses and carved on the armor of warriors. The branches of the tree were equally divided on the right and left sides of the stem, with each branch having one leaf, and one leaf on the apex of the tree. Servants stood on each side of the tree with one of their hands up as if they are taking care of the tree.
Turkic .The Tree of Life, as seen as in flag of Chuvashia, a Turkic state in the Russian FederationThe Tree of Life design on 0,05 Turkish lira (5 kuruş).
The World Tree or Tree of Life is a central symbol in Turkic mythology.[citation needed] It is a common motif in carpets.
It is also used as the main design of a common Turkish lira sub-unit 5 kuruş since 2009.
Bucolic - relating to the pleasant aspects of the countryside and country life.
DMC-G80M - ISO200 - 1/500sec - Olympus m.zuiko 25mmF1.8 @ f/5.6
“Urban art is a style of art that relates to cities and city life. In that way urban art combines street art and graffiti and is often used to summarize all visual art forms arising in urban areas, being inspired by urban architecture or thematizing urban live style.
The notion of 'Urban Art' developed from street art that is primarily concerned with graffiti culture. Urban art represents a broader cross section of artists that as well as covering traditional street artists also covers artists using more traditional media but with a subject matter that deals with contemporary urban culture and political issues.”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urban_art
“Wild Flowers are not weeds"
Street Art is the modern, urban wildflowers
What's the difference between Graffiti Tagging and Street Art?
1. Street Art is constructive, Graffiti Tagging is destructive.
2. Street Art adorns the urban landscape, Graffiti Tagging scars it and accelerates urban decay.
3. Street Art stretches your mind, Graffiti Tagging is a slap in your face.
4. Street Art is about the audience, Graffiti Tagging is about the tagger.
5. Street Art says "Have you thought about this?", Graffiti Tagging says "I tag, therefore I exist".
6. Street Art was done with a smile, Graffiti Tagging was done with a scowl.
7. Street Art takes skill, Graffiti Tagging takes balls.
8. We mourn losing Street Art and celebrate losing Graffiti Tagging.
Good Street Art is great, good Graffiti Tagging is gone!
”http://www.graffitiactionhero.org/graffiti-tag-vs-street-art.html
Additional interesting sites
www.osnatfineart.com/urban-art.jsp
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_art
DSC_0247 final.jpg
Les Invalides contains museums and monuments, all relating to the military history of France, as well as a hospital and a retirement home for war veterans, the building's original purpose. The buildings house the Musée de l'Armée (the military museum of the Army of France), the Musée des Plans-Reliefs and the Musée d'Histoire Contemporaine, as well as the Dôme des Invalides, a large church, the tallest in Paris at a height of 350 feet. It houses tombs of some of France's war heroes, most notably Napoleon. The architect of Les Invalides was Libéral Bruant. By the time the enlarged project was completed in 1676, the river front measured 643 feet, and the complex had 15 courtyards, the largest being the cour d'honneur ("court of honor") for military parades. Jules Hardouin-Mansart assisted the aged Bruant, and the chapel for veterans was finished in 1679. This chapel was known as Église Saint-Louis des Invalides, and daily attendance of the veterans in the church services was required. Shortly after the veterans' chapel was completed, Louis XIV commissioned Mansart to construct a separate private royal chapel referred to as the Église du Dôme. The domed chapel was finished in 1708. The building retained its primary function of a retirement home and hospital for military veterans until the early 20th century. In 1872 the musée d'artillerie (Artillery Museum) was located within the building to be joined by the musée historique des armées (Historical Museum of the Armies) in 1896. The two institutions were merged to form the present Musée de l'Armée in 1905. At the same time, the veterans in residence were dispersed to smaller centers outside Paris, as the building became too large for its original purpose. The modern complex includes facilities about a hundred elderly or incapacitated former soldiers, including one gentleman sitting outside in full World War II army dress.
I can relate to Frankenstein's monster..there are times when I feel like I've been piecemealed together, my body is a mess. My feet are a size and half different from one another, My left arm is contorted from injury, my spine does not properly align... it goes on and on. But the villagers haven't gathered yet so I'm doing pretty good! LOL
Eidetic: relating to or denoting mental images having unusual vividness and detail, as if actually visible
[polska wersja niżej]
This photo relates to the story told some time ago at this picture. Here ST43-395 with sugarbeet train is closing up to Raciąż station. Surprisingly SM30-277 appeared after the loco. This small shunter of the first Polish diesel locomotive class with appliance of diesel-electric transmission was detached from the consist in Raciąż and taken by sugar factory's shunting locomotive TEM2 to the factory. I don't know whether it was a loco's renting or wnything else.. October 9, 2005.
Photo by Jarek / Chester
ST43-395 wraz z niespodziewaną w takich okolicznościach SM30-277 oraz składem pełnym buraków cukrowych wjeżdżają do Raciąża rankiem 9 października 2005 roku. Tutaj SM30 została wypięta i wzięta na zakład do cukrowni - nie wiem, czy była to forma wypożyczenia lokomotywy manewrowej, czy coś innego.
Fot. Jarek / Chester
The fourth stage relates to the history, the 'story' we are witnessing, and it's social, spiritual and political implications. - Jay Ramsay - The Sacred Way
Paul Simon- The Rhythm of the Saints
REQUEST - a thought, a prayer please for my dear Georgian friend Laliko, who's daughter Nino has been missing for some 10 days ..........
brown relates to decay, growth and aging.
this was an amazing panorama but my computer crashed twice today and corrupted everything (y), i i started from scratch.
fantastic.
The Hôtel des Invalides (English: "house of invalids"), commonly called Les Invalides (French pronunciation: [lezɛ̃valid]), is a complex of buildings in the 7th arrondissement of Paris, France, containing museums and monuments, all relating to the military history of France, as well as a hospital and a retirement home for war veterans, the building's original purpose. The buildings house the Musée de l'Armée, the military museum of the Army of France, the Musée des Plans-Reliefs, and the Musée d'Histoire Contemporaine. The complex also includes the former hospital chapel, now national cathedral of the French military, and the adjacent former Royal Chapel known as the Dôme des Invalides, the tallest church building in Paris at a height of 107 meters. The latter has been converted into a shrine of some of France's leading military figures, most notably the tomb of Napoleon.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Invalides
Seen arriving as 'QUADRIGA 606D'. The callsign QUADRIGA relates to a Roman racing chariot drawn by four horses. Nice !
This relates to the previous photo I posted. The following night I dressed up in a velvet body shirt and black leather mini skirt and went out to a large Disco! I did have fun even though I was nervous with the big crowd.
~Holden Rinehart
Sometimes I try to relate the quotes I use to my uploads and sometimes I just find one that I like! This just happened to be one that I found that sounded interesting!
This is a shot overlooking the Beer Garden at the Hofbrauhaus along the Monongahela River. For this one I used 6 exposures from my S90.
Thank you for all the support my friends!
I don't mind invitations, but please no big, shiny, flashing, glitter graphics, they will be deleted. Also, please contact me if you would like to use my pictures for any reason, as all rights are reserved. Thanks!
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When I cry, I secretly hope that you will run all the way to mah doorstep in the rain, wipe mah tear, kiss me on the forehead and stay w/ me through the night...
P.s: It's Romantic rite ;)) keke
Wish I could relate the emotion I experience when I'm dressed, but it does, perhaps, "feel like this picture", blurry, to represent that it feels like a dream, a beautiful dream from which I would never want to wake up from...
The last photo from The Medieval Mining Settlement in Złoty Stok and then we'll be going to the mine :)
The Medieval Mining Settlement is a very precise replica of a medieval settlement, including machines and devices reconstructed in a 1:1 scale. They are all in working order, as every visitor can find out. All the machines and devices were built very precisely on the basis of medieval illustrations by Georgius Agricola. This is the only this type attraction in Europe. Visiting the Park is very much like a travel in time back to the Middle Ages. In addition, visitors to the Mining Settlement can walk through a mysterious and scary underground tunnel leading to the cottage of the local executioner. This attraction relates to the medieval office and profession of executioner in Złoty Stok - he played an important role in punishing miners who stole gold or other criminals.
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Ostatni rzut oka na średniowieczną osadę górniczą i teraz będziemy szli zwiedzać kopalnię :)
Średniowieczny Park Techniki, stanowi bardzo dokładną replikę średniowiecznej osady górniczej wyposażonej w urzadzenia skonstruowane w skali 1:1 na podstawie rycin oraz opisów Georgiusa Agricoli. Wszystkie urządzenia działają o czym może przekonać się każdy zwiedzający. Jest to jedyna tego typu atrakcja w Europie. Zwiedzanie Parku można spokojnie określić jako podróż w czasie do średniowiecza. Dodatkowo w Osadzie Górniczej zwiedzający natrafiają na pełen tajemnic i strachów podziemny tunel, który kończy się wizytą w Chacie złotostockiego Kata. Atrakcja ta nawiązuje do średniowiecznego Urzędu Kata w Złotym Stoku jak i do jego zawodu – kat odgrywał ważną rolę przy karaniu m.in. górników, którzy kradli złoto.
Adapting a popular song from the 1970s I often find myself singing 'sometimes I want to be a woman' I do also sing the actual line 'sometimes it's hard to be a woman' too as I can relate to both sentiments. I frequently segue into the chorus line of 'stand by your man' unconsciously then a sudden awareness of what I just sang brings me to a halt! Realisation I'm not a woman crashes in and I feel a mix of regret, sadness and fear yet at the same time I feel contentment, delight and real joy.
My relationship with my transvestism is something that fascinates me greatly and is something I really enjoy analysing and on rare occasions get to discuss, I am completely fascinated by my transgender feelings. I do often question my motives as being a transvestite brings with it a lot of emotions and satisfaction, indeed a sense of fulfilment yet it also carries for me doubt and guilt and confusion.
One of the things that causes me fear is the sheer joy I experience when I dress up as a woman, I absolutely love it and find part of me willing to assume the persona of a female with great eagerness. I really want it and to completely cross the gender line and no longer be a man. That part of me is something I feel I fight and suppress as I have fears of what it may set free. The big fear is it may well destroy my actual life with my wife, family, colleagues and work.
For me to appear, or more accurately attempt to appear as a woman is a heady powerful emotional desire that I will openly admit I am drawn to. I simply adore dressing up as a woman and trying to pass myself off as a female. Surely this is not what a man should be doing? Well, that's what society may tell us yet I live as a man and love to be a woman.
There are for me undoubted thrills that accompany the initial cross-dressing such as I may on occasion become sexually aroused by the act of transforming myself into the opposite gender. There is of course the thrill of performance and creating an illusion, in fact the act of attempting female impersonation (albeit not on stage or for theatrical entertainment) gives me a real buzz despite the fact it I only ever cross-dress in private.
I am keen to pass as a woman and to act the role convincingly. As I love female impersonation and acting I constantly challenge myself to try and become the woman I am appearing as and not let any of the man be evident. As a consequence I try to think myself into believing I am female. To try and feel and act more realistically female I create back stories for my female alter-ego and really try to become her as I find the challenge something that is incredibly adventurous.
Sometimes I almost pass out with fear when I act like I find men attractive or talk about my (imaginary) ex husband and boyfriends. The man in me is repelled by this yet the woman I am attempting to portray feels at home. I do try to get over my male fears as I do dream of one day passing convincingly in every way as a woman. I kind of believe if I want to appear realistically to be female then I need to become female in my thinking and interaction.
I have found, despite my male fears, I do feel more like a female by thinking of the camera as my boyfriend and trying to act a bit flirty. Somehow it adds an extra element of femininity to the vibe and hopefully to the photos.
I rationalise this by telling myself I am supposed to be a woman when I have gone to all of the effort to become Helene so I need to switch over into being her. My body is shaved, my genitals are tucked, I have false breasts, my face is painted in make-up, I'm wearing a wig with a female hair style and I'm wearing knickers and bra and a dress and high heels with painted nails...I am trying to look like a woman so I really should try and make the whole ensemble come together and try and fulfil those efforts in a way that makes the illusion feel convincing and real to those who see her. I want my alter-ego to pass as a woman in every way, it's an ambition I harbour as a transvestite.
My vanity, indeed I'm sure more my ego, would love to one day experience being taken out for dinner as Helene by a man. As a transvestite trying to pass as a woman that surely has to be rewarding? To be wined and dined and treated as a lady and spend the evening as a woman being admired by men is the ultimate in passing. It has nothing to do with sex, it is all to do with an inner dream of being able to pass convincingly as a female.
I feel more at ease talking abut such scenarios now as I know my own sexuality and I know I would have enjoyed working as a female impersonator and acting as a convincing looking transvestite in films when I was younger. I enjoy those films when a woman is revealed to be a man and every body is surprised as they never saw it coming. The same with female impersonation, I am in awe of men who look, sound and can behave like women yet the audience know that she is in fact a man performing as a woman. I have been ridiculed, indeed at times humiliated in the past for expressing these personal views and ambitions but as I get older I now think why not be honest about my own motivations and issues related to why I engage in transvestism.
In this photo from early June I was totally getting into being a woman and would happily have posed with a man on my arm to sell the illusion I was female. I enjoyed wearing this outfit and if I am honest felt very much at home appearing like this. The intensity of the moment was quite something to cope with, I wanted nothing more than to remain female forever. However, about four hours after this photo was taken I returned to being a man and was quite happy to do so. I think the knowledge I desire to dress up and look female and act as if I am female is something I get a buzz from. The fact I rarely get to cross-dress is probably what I find attractive about being a transvestite. If I was a woman full time I would not likely get the rewards I have emotionally and physically that I get from the occasional cross-dressing experiences. Yet, I feel there is a part of me that wishes I was female.
To be a cross-dresser is quite a mixed bag of emotions and motivations, nothing is that clear cut and I confess I rather like this often confusing exciting and worrying mix that goes on within me. I am addicted to it, I really am.
Tradition relates that a castle was first constructed on this site by Rhodri the Great, but there are no remains from this period. Dinefwr later became the chief seat of Rhodri's grandson Hywel Dda, first ruler of Deheubarth and later king of most of Wales. Rhys ap Gruffydd, ruler of Deheubarth from 1155 to 1197, is thought to have rebuilt the castle. Giraldus Cambrensis tells a story about a plan by King Henry II of England to assault the castle during a campaign against Rhys. One of Henry's most trusted followers was sent on reconnaissance, guided by a local Welsh cleric, who was asked to lead him to the castle by the easiest route, but instead took the most difficult route he could find, ending the performance by stopping to eat grass with the explanation that this was the diet of the local people in times of hardship. The planned attack was duly abandoned.
Rhys ap Gruffydd also built the spectacular castle at Carreg Cennen, about four miles away to the south. It is not visible from Dynefwr, but Dryslwyn Castle can just be seen on a hill blocking the Tywi valley to the south-west. Rhys also founded two religious houses during this period. Talley Abbey was the first Premonstratensian abbey in Wales, while Llanllyr was a Cistercian nunnery, only the second nunnery to be founded in Wales and the first to prosper.
On Rhys ap Gruffydd's death the castle passed to his son Rhys Gryg, and the earliest parts of the present castle are thought to derive from this period. Llywelyn the Great of Gwynedd was now extending his influence to this area, and Rhys, finding himself unable to resist, dismantled the castle. Llywelyn however had it restored and held it until his death in 1240. In 1255 Llywelyn the Last gave Dinefwr to Rhys Fychan, then later gave it to Maredudd ap Rhys before later returning it to Rhys Fychan. Maredydd now allied himself to King Edward I of England, and helped Edward capture Dinefwr in 1277. Maredudd had apparently been promised Dinefwr in return for his help, but Edward did not keep his promise and had Maredudd executed in 1291.
I have a 90 year old neighbor who has hiked the 890 km length of the Bruce Trail three or four times. In the heyday of his 70's and even 80's, walking 30 or even 50 km was just a walk in the park for him. In the last year, his hips started giving out it's been one of the most difficult things he's had to leave behind. He still goes out for a walk around the block every day, just one step at a time, with a crutch under one arm and a cane in the other. Seeing him hobble down the street, I can completely relate to his determination as our own time feels the most grounded somewhere on a hiking trail. I'm also very blessed having someone to share that passion with and we're both looking forward to the day when the trails reopen after the current pandemic.
Strandarkirkja is a Lutheran (Church of Iceland) parish church in Selvogur, Iceland. It is often referred to as the 'miracle church' in Iceland, with the locals' longstanding belief that it has profound, divine powers.
The Church was originally built sometime in the 12th century. The story relates that there is one night when a group of sailors tried to navigate back to Iceland in a storm. The southern coast of Iceland is notorious for its hidden reefs and rough coast. The distressed sailors prayed to God for a safe return and vowed to build a church wherever they landed. When they ended their prayer an angel, seemingly made of light, appeared before their bow. The angel guided them through the rough surfs and led the crew into a bay for safe landing. The sailors, making good on the promise, built a wooden church at the site and named it Strandarkirkja. The bay nearby is named Angel's Bay (Engilsvík in Icelandic) to commemorate the incident. Many miracles have been attributed to Strandarkirkja and there was a time when it was one of the richest churches in Iceland from the donations of Icelanders coming from all over the country in hopes of having their prayers and wishes realized.
127 comments under the Facebook posting, to a province-wide group, of a photo that a photographer took of three people, one of them myself - angry, rude, critical, judgemental comments, by people who don't even know me or my ethics, including when they relate to photography! Last night, I found the posting again and took a long time going through all 127 comments. Made me feel sick to the stomach. This can't be right, though I know this kind of thing does happen on Facebook. I want the photo removed or for the photographer, whom I don't know, to at the very least completely blur me out of the shot. Though his comment, when he first posted his photo, was about people staying safe when taking photos, he has allowed the posting to develop into an endless bashing.
I wasn't going to post this again, but I have changed my mind after reading all those comments. I sent the man a link to one of my owl photos that has this long description with it, asking him to read, when he has time, what I have written. The link was sent only two or three days ago, so he may not have seen it yet.
"I think the very first Long-eared Owl that I ever saw was seen on 13 October 2006. SInce then, I have been very fortunate to have seen several other individuals - including the day before yesterday. These owls are very secretive and many birders go years between sightings. It is so important not to give the location of this species. Be careful that there is nothing in your photos that gives away the location.
Various people had been posting photos of a Long-eared Owl recently, but I had no idea where they were seeing it. Someone had posted a photo and labelled it "Calgary" (totally untrue!), so I had thought it must have been seen in one of our local city parks. Two days ago, I decided to go for a short drive and get a bit of sunshine and fresh air. Our deep freeze has lasted for more than four weeks, and I have been home for most of that time. It was a milder day, so I decided to make the most of it, especially with more snow forecast for today.
Imagine my surprise when a stranger told me just where it was, and my absolute horror when I came upon a huge crowd of photographers with their lenses raised! So how did they all know about this owl?? Apparently, Facebook has such a bad reputation for people trolling everyone's photostream there, finding out locations for all sorts of things (old barns included!). Then, of course, some people phone others, to ask or to tell. Others follow ebird religiously, dashing out to see every more 'special' bird that is reported and location given. I don't post many photos on Facebook and I certainly don't post the same photo to three groups. It gets so very boring to see the same photos everywhere. These people flood their own Facebook pages and the groups! The only reason I can see is to get as many Likes as possible. Anyway, most people were down in the ditch at the fenceline, so no doubt they were able to get stunning close shots, especially those with enormous lenses. My photos were taken from the road, which was twice as far away, with a point-and-shoot. I'm not out to try and get better photos than anyone else : ) As always, there is so much competition among photographers. I was also not out there all day, like various people always are, and often day after day after day.
So, after saying those things, perhaps you can imagine how extremely upset (devastated, actually) I am to have been told (when I arrived at the owl) by a couple of friends (both of whom are superb photographers) that my photograph had been taken, along with two other people in it, standing at the edge of a road earlier in February. These friends thought it was hilarious and I sure was teased a lot. As they said, my "goody two-shoes" image was gone. They both know I have very high ethics, including when it comes to photography. This photo was posted on Facebook on a provincial birding page, pointing out how dangerous it is for people to stand by the road. This thread turned into a string of comments about people harassing the owls, etc., etc., etc. Actually, the other two people in the photo are both seen taking photos (when I was told they already had taken thousands). There's me, camera not raised, looking disgusted that an owl had been flushed so that they could take flight images. The reason I was out of my vehicle was that these two people were out of theirs and racing down the road at top speed to get yet more shots. When I was sitting in my car, these photographers blocked my view of the owl, so out I got and caught up with them. To prove that I was not planning on getting out of my car this trip, I was wearing just my thin summer jacket (over fleece) in a windchill in the minus 20C's. Two minutes later, I was back in my car!
Sorry to rant, but it just upsets me so much that this photo was taken and posted on Facebook. Have barely slept the last two nights! The very last thing I would ever want is to be connected with bad ethics!! Of course, I must be such a bad person to actually stand by the road - ha, you should see all the dozens of people who do exactly the same (without being photgraphed)!
That day, I took maybe 30 photos of the Long-eared Owl, and maybe a couple of dozen of a Short-eared Owl, almost every single one of the latter needing to be deleted, because they were all totally blurry, thanks to taking the photos from inside my car. You can be sure that most of the others went home with yet another memory card containing thousands of photos.
I am hoping that now I won't be stressing out over it quite as much, every second of the day! Ain't life fun? To the man who took my photo (as far as I know, I have never met him), how about taking a few photos of the crowds of people, especially those who were as close as they could get to the LEO. Or those who stress out the owls day after day after day, often from morning till evening!
PS: I rarely allow people (i.e. friends) to photograph me. Not sure what right this man thinks he has, to take my photo and especially to then post it on a very popular Facebook group page. I want it removed from Facebook, or at the very least, to have myself totally blurred out of the image. When this sort of thing happens, it can totally destroy a person's joy of photography!
Actually, on a more serious note, something that I'm sure most people don't think of. You really need to be careful about taking a photo of someone and then posting it (without signing a consent form). For various security reasons, doing this could actually put someone in danger. For example, a woman (or vice versa) might not want their photo being advertised in this way, not wanting an abusive spouse/partner to know where they go sometimes or what they do. Just something to keep in mind."
The chapel features, on its three walls, frescoed scenes relating to the Universal Flood, the Entrance of the Animals into the Ark, the End of the Flood and Noah's Drunkenness. The compositions are characterised by outdoor visions marked by the presence of human figures and animals, both depicted on a small scale. The painter's attention seems to be focused on the description of the variety of animals and birds, without, however, failing to dwell on the more intensely dramatic scenes, such as the cases of those who drown, going as far as the cold analysis of the corpses strewn on the ground after the Flood. The stories of the Flood are linked to the fresco of the Baptism of Christ that faces them in the cloistered church, as a foreshadowing of that moment of salvation, according to what St Peter makes clear in the First Epistle (3:20-21): "God in his longsuffering waited in the days of Noah for the ark to be built, in which eight people in all found escape from the water, a figure, this one, of the Baptism that now saves us".
Historical-critical information: In these frescoes, Aurelio Luini displays an unprecedented propensity for storytelling and narration for its own sake, which results in a smug amusement directed above all at the descriptive rendering of the various animal species, rendered with an almost lenticular meticulousness. As the son of Bernardino Luini, who was active for many years in San Maurizio, Aurelio showed undisputed talent for painting, which led him to collaborate with his older brother Giovan Pietro from 1555 onwards. Here, as in other cases, Aurelio exhibits the peculiar characteristics of his painting, sustained by an exuberant expressive emphasis that is fully in line with contemporary 'Mannerism'. The naturalistic taste manifested in the frescoes of the Noah's Ark chapel also reflects the interest that Aurelio, a member of the Accademia della Val di Blenio (run by Giovan Paolo Lomazzo), had always shown in Leonardo's research.
The Winter Gardens Pavilion is a neo-Georgian pavilion located in the English seaside town of Weston-super-Mare. The pavilion was originally completed in 1927 and included extensive gardens, a tennis court and a putting green. Much of the gardens are now covered by the nearby Sovereign Shopping Centre and the garden's eastern wall forms the boundary of the town square.
The current Winter Gardens Pavilion was designed in 1924 in a collaboration between landscape architect Thomas Hayton Mawson and town surveyor Harry Brown. A height restriction imposed by a covenant relating to the nearby Royal Hotel compromised the design and resulted in a sunken ballroom and a small domed roof.
doesn't relate, I just really love this song. My aunt got me an iTunes gift card for my birthday and I went ahead and bought a bunch of songs that had been sitting in my shopping cart for a while. Including Fleet Foxes, by Fleet Foxes, which is amazing.
I think I'm joining a music club if Dialecticals doesn't whip itself back into shape.
Speaking of school, I shouldn't be online right now. I have to take six tests in three days, and not complain to anyone about it, because after all, I did take an eight day vacation. BACK TO WORK.
I'm addicted to film. Every image comes out so much more epheral than I could ever expect from digital.
Canon AE-1 | Kodak Gold | ISO 200
We can relate to this guy sometimes.
VTR #201 is about to depart North Bennington to take its train from Rutland down to the PAR interchange at Hoosick Junction in New York state.
Uses: Anything relating to finance and money.
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My twin sister has had, from early memory, a rather silly game she has always liked to play out on me.
Starting quite young, she had always thought it a great tease to try and lift things from my pockets when I was distracted.
And to be Honest, she had soon gotten quite good at it, to my chagrin.
Then of course, I made the mistake of letting her know it got under my skin when she would do that! So of course she kept on doing it, grinning with great satisfaction when she was successful.
Which she was a good deal of the time !
I had tolerated it for quite a few years, until one day when I found a way to get my revenge.
Which I did by lifting her necklace during a rather severely formal event we were rather forced into attending when we were 13.
Actually I lifted her necklace several times that evening without her catching on to what was truly happening…..! But that is another story altogether.
Needless to say, since then we had been going back and forth, cat and dog, trying to out do one another in our versions of the game from that time forward, lasting into our present adult hood.
Now, this rather insightful event I am about to relate, happened about two years after I had discovered my own spin on my twins annoying game.
By then I had successfully played it out on her several times…
This time around it was quite intriguing situation, for neither my sister or I had ever been to a wedding.
My sister( along with our mother) was assigned to be a bridesmaid at our Mum’s University chum’s wedding.
Sis was included to accommodate an age match for the Grooms younger brother, an oops baby Mum had said.
Apparently there were a dearth of females that young on either side of the Bride and Groom’s families.
I will admit me mum and sister looked rather smashing in their matching, quite vibrant bridesmaid’s attire.
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Later on, at the reception, I was watching as my sister was swishing out on the dance floor with the simpy young bloke who was her partner.
As Sis danced about in her long lavender coloured gown of some shiny material, I had eagerly watched her glittery collection of rhinestone diamonds flickering with mad abandon along her figure, as they were caught in the dim lights.
They were the same set of rhinestones which all the bridesmaids had been given and were wearing with the long flowing dresses that matched my sister’s.
They were all the same size too. So that the set my young sister was wearing looked like an adults. Especially her necklace, which seemed to go on forever as it dangled down the front of her slick gown, ending into a long v shape..
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I actually had been pressed into service to help her place the shimmering necklace on around her neck at home before we left.
As she had held up her hair giving me a clear look at the long dangling earrings that she had already clasped on, she lifted the necklace up, holding the jeweled ends up to me to take and clasp.
I did so, watching the sparkling show reflected in our mums vanity mirror from over my sister’s shoulder..
As I observed my sister’s reflection, I could see that she was also keeping a rather watchful eye on me ( and her jewels I suspected)
Of course I acted all of the innocent one !
The jewels my sister was wearing also included a bracelet around a gloved hand, with a glittery ring on same hand. A brooch dangled from her waist, pinned to the front of a wide ribbed sash attached to her gown, and which I was directed to tie in a bow at her back.
She had stood in front of Mother’s long mirror as I stood behind tying.
But, truth be told, despite my innocent act, I had found the rhinestones a most attractive lure. Feeling an all too familiar certain tingle coming up from deep within as she teasingly played with her long gown, admiring her pretty self in the mirror..
It didn’t help much that only the weekend before we had seen an olde American funny show about people stranded on an island. We had seen the silly show a few times before, and I had really thought it was a bit of a bore.
The only thing I found about it to hold my attention is that several of the females liked to dress up in gowns and jewels, which peaked my interest, though it was kinda odd that people stranded on an island would be doing that sort of thing, was it not now?
But this one show had a newcomer, a thief, stranded on the island with them. And…
Well we will come to that soon enough….
But as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket, and followed her to the car watching her long gown fluidly flowing down out from underneath her jacket to where it fluttered at her heels, my thoughts were on that telly show, and I pondered over the possibilities of what the day could bring…….
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So now at the reception, as I watched me mum, sister and all the other dancers, I found my eyes kept glancing back at my sister, and her showy attire, mesmerized, as the welcomed feelings re-emerged, dredging up from within!
I also began to notice the other shimmering jewels that many of the female guests were wearing along their equally fancy dressed figures.
So this is what a wedding was like, I was myself, finding it rather a bit interesting all around !
The music ended as the band took a break. The bloke quickly deserted my sister for his side of the family and my twin made her sparkling, gown swirling way, threading through the guests, finally coming up to our table.
I had sat with dad, while mum and sis were up at the head table. We had sat with other members of Mum’s Friends, but they had all left to go to another table once the music had started. Mum had dropped her things off at our table, then Her and Dad had also gone off to visit.
So we were left at the table alone, to find our own devices to entertain ourselves.
Or at least my sister had to find entertainment, unbeknownst to her, I already had mine !
As we talked while sitting at the deserted table, I kept stealing looks at my twin sister’s jewels, which were still rippling with sparkles with every squirming move she made. And the little chatterbox was by no means ever still for long.
Then my sister began to absentmindedly play with her hair ( a sign she was getting bored)!
I saw one of her long earrings give a peek out, shooting out a mad shimmer before darting back into hiding. As I half watched, still deep in thought, she nonchalantly tugged at that sparkling earring, like it was going to be pulled off….!
Then, with sudden clarity, an overwhelming desire surged over me as a rather delicious, devious plot popped in my brain… How many different pieces of my sister’s jewels could I manage to lift at one event?
For you see, on that American tv show, the stranded folks had invited the thief to their fancy dress dinner. The girls had primped up, wearing fancy gowns, and lots of diamonds, much like the plentiful jewels sis ,the other bridesmaids and a few of the younger guests were so winningly wearing.
The people stranded on that island believed the thief when he had said he was reformed, but he had decidedly not been reformed, only pretending to be that way in order to rob them some more.
And the cheeky devil began to rob them again, centering on the ladies and their sparklers he did !
The one wealthy lady was wearing quite a lot of diamonds. Some of her jewels were quite similar to the ones my sister was wearing, including the dangling long necklace. This charming thief managed to smoothly slip that expensive looking necklace off from around the throat of her sparkly blue gown.
I think he also took one of her bracelets! She had had two, both shimmering around each wrist of her long gloves, like the single bracelet my sister was also wearing on a similar long glove, but where this lady’s gloves were white, sis’s gloves were the same colour and material of her gown.
A second lady had hair like my sister’s, long and worn down. She was also wearing these long earrings which were strikingly like the ones sis was now playing around with, as well as a diamond ring similar also to the one my sister had on.
The thief had managed to neatly slip off not one, but both of those pretty sparkly diamond earrings. And looking later, I believe he had also took her ring as he kissed her hand!
The third and last lady was wearing a plainer frock, with small diamond earrings and a matching pinky ring. I believe it was the ring that soon fell victim to this scoundrels wiles. I was not sure, because she had been the first one he had lured off to be alone with him, and it was before I realized just what he was up to.
But he had taken her hand, and something must have happened because the audience had been laughing, as they had done later in the show when the necklace, braclet, and earrings had been nicked.
So I played over in my mind several ways I could lift my twin’s jewels in a similar devious fashion as the “reformed” thief.
Now, as I was my deep in thoughts of acquiring some of her sparkling jewels, I had done a bit of squirming of me own, and, noticing with interest, my sister looked over at me, ” Bored too huh, wanna sneak out now?”
I had almost forgotten. But it may prove to be perfect for my schemes !
You see, we had passed a small playground, then some woods, as we then turned into the church parking lot. As we were getting out of the car, my sister had whispered that we should slip out later and check the area out.
So, looking carefully around to make sure we were not watched, we got up and snuck our way along the wall until we reached the hallway leading to the restrooms.
At the opposite end of that hallway, was a circular staircase that led upstairs and to the side exit leading conveniently out to the back parking lot.
So we now slipped inside the hallway, and after waiting until a couple of giggling older teenage girls , , looking like debutantes in their long flowy dresses, long haired tied up, and their fetching figures adorned with white pearled jewelry, passed us by.
We than scurried our way to the staircase, and up and out to our adventure.
It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon, blue sky with a few wispy clouds that greeted our exit to freedom.
Happily we made our way across the parking lot and up to a stone statute depicting the last station of the cross ( the resurrection) that was set on the edge of the wooded area. The rest of the stations apparently led along a path that winded along through the woods.
We followed the path, looking at the old statuary depiction of the passion walk. The faces of the figures in abrupt agony, most definitely putting a certain chill in the air.
Still we contentedly meandered our way through, my mind meanwhile still working on the problem of how to acquire the first of the brite jewels my sister was wearing in a most certainly quite inviting manner.
It was always a bit fun, the plotting of lifting her jewels!
And today was no exception, as I watched her flirt about in her long flowy gown, her guard now apparently down, as she seemingly appeared to be totally unaware that her jewelry was in peril of being snatched.
Much like those three, diamonds and frills wearing, lasses in that silly tv show had been unawares when welcoming the thief into their party!!
But of course, my stupid mind could not come up with any plan that I thought would be successful to carry out my desired deeds…And I had had quite a few come in and rejected out of my mind as being too cockamamie, while we were walking up that path!
Then my sister, bless her innocence, conveniently gave me an opening.
We had stopped in front of one of the statue stations. A bird had made its nest in the crook of the stone cross. Sis wanted to see it, and kicking off her shoes, had tried to climb up to see inside.
Acting like that gentleman thief from the show, I had helped her up, and held her by the waist as she leaned over and peeked in. Her brooch was dangling freely, and my fingers had clasped around the jewel. I carefully tried to locate and undo the clasp, but could not find it in time, before she found the nest empty and asked me to help her down.
If only the bloody nest had been full !!
I saw She had skipped off ahead of me a bit.
So at least she had not noticed or felt my attempt, so I was still at the bat in the wicket.
I began to replay what I remembered of the show. I looked over my sister as I did so. Her necklace? No, not in the way he did it.
I thoughtfully watched as my sister moved about, her gown fluttering merrily along her figure…hair flying out behind her
My sisters longish hair was loosely down, as his third pretty victims silky hair had been… the one with the dangly earrings he had managed to lift…
Her earrings then ? Hmmm..
But as I was formulating a plan to nab at least one of my sister’s earrings, she abruptly stopped. And letting out a small squeal and stooped over to pick something up from the path.
Damn, I was not paying attention and had allowed her to get far enough ahead that such an obvious opportunity was lost.
It would have been perfect, for there was no way to suggest having her bend down without arousing suspicion. But If I had been closer when she had innocently done it on her own, well who knows what mischief a little thing like falling over into her would have resulted into ?
She rose, and brought over to me a colourful stone that shimmered in her gloved palm much like her jewels. I held her glove hand up, looking at it, my eyes also watching the bracelet just dangling there for the taking.
I picked up the the stone from her hand, and let it slip out, allowing it to fall to the ground. “Clumsy” she scolded, and as she bent down to retrieve it, my fingers raced up to her bracelet. But she pulled her hand from mine as she retrieved the stone, and that opportunity slipped through my fingers also, as I lost hold of her bracelet before working the clasp.
She moved off, looking at the sparkling stone. I followed close, ready and watching for some new opportunity, observing her longish hair falling down along the back of her gown. I watched its silky mass as my mind wandered back to the circumstances I needed in order to create the opportunity for me to nick her cascading jeweled earrings.
In the show on the telly he had…
But before I could finish that thought, we Suddenly found ourselves in by a small narrow clearing, and my sister looking down the hill, saw the playground a distance off through the woods.
My sister grasped my arm, there it is, let’s go over she chirped! As my objectives, her earrings, swinging along from her earlobes, were dancing in and out of her hair as she pleaded.
I held my thoughts in check. Maybe the playground would offer up some nice easy possibilities?!
Even though the path did not go that way, we soon spied a well-used route, not stoned over like the one we were currently following, but unmistakable a short cut through to the playground.
I pointed it out and we happily took the path, heading off to the playground and all its assorted attractions.
We reached it in short time.
But It really was nothing much, just a few swing sets, totter, and a spinner. On the opposite side, probably some 120 meters, was a fenced area with signs warning of electric hazard.
My sister made for the swing and, pulling back her gown, slipped on one, facing the woods, her back to the rest of the playground.
She kicked off her tight heels, laughing. I sat on the swing beside her and we both just kicked back and forth a little, chatting away. I watched as her necklace bounced up and down upon her sleek chest as she swung. A thought struck me on a method to lift away her necklace.
I got up and began to push her, my hands upon her back. I couldn’t see the necklace from this position, her hair was covering it.
But I reached up each time she sung back and eventually had my hands upon her shoulder.
She leaned back giggling, her head bouncing against my chest, my objective sparkling within reach as it dripped down from her throat…and so were her earrings ! All so close and yet so far. My fingers itching to make a try, at something but I didn’t want to muck it up and be caught out on my first attempt either !
I repositioned my hands to the small of her back.
I found that my fingers travelled with effortless ease up along the backside of the slick material of her fancy bridesmaid’s gown.
But my attempt fell short of its objective, my fingers getting lost in her hair that lay splayed across the back of her pretty gown.
I kept pushing her on the swing, my mind going miles a minute. Maybe be a different approach was needed The spinner? Or maybe a game, like say blind man’s bluff?
My mind pounced on that, liking the thought, and I just happened to have a handkerchief in my pocket!
I stole a look around to see if ……
It was as I did so that I saw them.
Two boys and a girl, a few years older than us, leaning against two bikes, smoking right under that sign which clearly, strictly forbade smoking in the area.. There were definitely dressed as punks, spiky hair, chains, ripped jeans, the lot.
And certainly had been watching us with quite some interest.
At that point my sister’s swing hit against me, and I was moved back by the force. I kept my balance, as I saw that my twin had turned to see what had happened. She saw the group of three, and they saw her fully for the first time, in all her fancy dress, with the pretty rhinestones just sparkling away.
I had a dark inkling that we probably should not linger here any longer. I said so much to my sister.
Shoes she said, and I collected hers and quickly placed them back on her feet. I was watching past her and could see that the three had now formed a huddle.
I helped my sister up from the swing, and she straightened her gown, bending down, her necklace dangling temptingly loose.
It would just figure that I now had a perfect opportunity at that point, her hair had fallen forward exposing the necklaces clasp. But to say that the situation was less than ideal, would be an understatement.
So I took her arm and quickly led her off. Looking back I saw that one of the boys, his cig dangling from his lip, had moved towards us a bit, stopping and was watching as we left. Needless to say I felt a bit uneasy as we made our hasty retreat..
We gained the safety of the woods, and soon disappeared into the tree line, scurrying back up along the wooded path.
We finally reached back to the stony path of the passion statues, and felt a bit securer with each step we took, eventually starting to meander about, playing down all thoughts of the incident on the playground.
Actually we both started to feel a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, acting like a couple of fraidy cats!
Soon I found that my mind, regretting the lost opportunity at the play ground , was again working on my intriguing bits of my challenge.
All the while, I stole quick glances at my sister waltzing about.
I just could not get enough of her show!
The long shiny gown fluttering about with each step, as her jewels flashed with what I found to be a now more than just taunting show.
But there had been something about the way those punks had snapped to attention, when me twin sister had turned towards them.
I remember it was concerning a thought I myself had had after the American telly show was over..
The thief in the tv show had only taken a few of the copious diamonds the ladies had been wearing. I guess that I figured if he was luring them off, why didn’t he just take all of their jewels !?
It wasn’t like he was going to be caught and thrown into a jail was he now, stranded alone with them on the island ?
I looked at my sister wandering about, her gown moving fluidly hither and tither as she looked here and there. Those quite mesmerizing jewels keeping in flashy rhythm as she so innocently explored..
What if….?
What if indeed !
I slowed down, letting my sister get to wondering a bit ahead, pretending in my mind of being someone with a devious intent on the ( in my mind, real) jewels that were dangling and sparkling along this fetching lass clad in a shiny gown that swished and swirled about her figure in a rather enchanting fashion.
Much like the gowns and jewels those 3 stranded lasses on that island had been doing!
I stopped by one of the large white Stations of the cross and pondered it over..
My sister soon took a turn ahead of me on the path, disappearing around a corner.
There was a bench across the path facing the statue. Behind the bench was the large trunk of a rather ancient tree. I slipped in behind the trunk to hide .
Spying a short knobby stick at my feet I picked it up…may come in handy I thought a bit wickedly as I prepared to play at being Robin Hood!
Soon I heard her call my name, then silence, except for the swishing of her long gown as she quickly came back down the path. From a hole in a large bush, I could see was looking side to side, her jewels sparkling nicely, like those the poor lasses jewels had been wearing before their loss.. a loss of jewels Like this one was about to encounter!
I waited for her to innocently pass me by, as I lurked back from her sight in the shadows of my tree.
She suddenly stopped, catching a stone in one of her heels.
She limped over to the bench and stooping over pulled off the offending heel and shook it.
I dropped the knobby stick, smelling a new opportunity that was ripe for the picking..
I slipped out ,quiet as a church mouse, and snuck up behind her on the heels of my feet.
Reaching my intended victim without any notice, I held my hands over her eyes.
She immediately straightened up, I could feel her figure freezing rigid.
I could also feel her long earrings under my palms as I still held managed to hold my fingers over her eyes.
I bent over and said in her ear, ” guess who lass?” as I eyed up close several of my objectives just dangling there with no care in the world.
After I spoke, I started pulling my hands from her eyes, and lifted back her hair with my thumbs, while resting my fingers gently upon her earlobes. Both of her earrings dangling coolly from out underneath..!
Meanwhile She had breathed a sigh of relief at hearing my voice while placing her gloved hand upon her beating heart.
“Not funny” she scolded, looking forward. I was watching her ring and bracelet do their sparkling dance from her finger and wrist respectively.
As I positioned my fingers to slowly pull down the long earrings from her earlobes, I started to ask what had happened, hoping she would look down at her feet as I finished my attempt to slip away her eye-catching earrings.
But, before I could start my sentence, that quick, opportunity once again slithered away from my grasp !
For we both simultaneously heard it at the same time…
The slow squealing sound of tyres from a bicycle being walked, coming up to us some short distance behind us on the path, from the direction of the playground!
My sister turned her head, her earrings slipped from my fingertips, as my hands lost their grip and fell down upon her shoulders.
Bollocks I said under my breath, as yet another opportunity to steal away a piece of my sister’s jewelry was lost. This one just whisked from my grasp would have been the easiest yet!
“What’s that ?” she said, innocently turning her face up to look at me, earrings and necklace again shooting off their taunting sparks.
And I now had grown cold with the realization that I may not be the only one my sister’s jewels had been taunting !!
I put a finger to her lips and told her, quick, behind the statues!
.
I realized what the sound of the tyres meant, and they were gaining.
I helped my sister up and we both crossed the stone path, darting behind the cross station statue group.
As we skulked down behind it my sister again asked what I thought it was?
“Sush and, don’t move!” I told her, pulling her silky clad figure close to mine, feeling our hearts beating rapidly…
Soon we heard voices above the sound of the bikes tyres. There were only the two of them, two of the group of three who had been giving my sister the once over at the playground.
One ripped jean jacketed Boy and the spiky haired female. They were walking beside a bike, the boy still had a cig dangling from a crooked, sneering lip. I wondered what had become off the other boy?
The squealing of wheels got closer and closer and we watched through the thicket behind the statue group depicting Jesus falling for the first time, as slowly they walked the bikes past us, looking straight ahead on the path before them.
We quite clearly could hear them now.
He : “She came this way!”
She: “Think they were real…?”
He: “Naw, not on a kid like that, fake, but still the bunch might be worth a few bob… enough for cigs, maybe… plus whats in her shiny purse and the lads tie clasp, probably has a wallet, or some coins at the least!”
“Them rich kids always do have sometin, and they usually give no problem handing them over nicely, do they now? “ He said wickedly…
She: Giggling at some memory..
I heard my sister gasp and pulling her even closer, clamping my hand over her mouth
They had passed.
I heard the girl saying something, but it was broken up. The words, “that little darlings” followed by a mumbled sentence with a word that sounded like “peel”, and then clearly the words “shiny dress ..” , before they had rounded the corner and the rest of her words were lost to us.
We waited a good while, then stole along the path. As my sister walked on directly ahead, I was watching and listening , all too well aware of the reality of being ambushed and mugged by the pair…
An unsettling image flashed in my head, close to home, because it had been my idea also…
In my mind, the bike was now laying abandoned on the ground.
The rude spiky haired punk girl was heartlessly staring at my sister, whilst caressing with grubby hands, the soft gown my twin was now limply wearing along her figure.
As the punk lad, cig still hanging from a curled lip, was methodically searching said figure; locating and pulling off all the jewels my forlorn sister had been wearing, shoving his pockets with the shimmering lot as he displayed a rather evil grin.
I no sooner shook the thought from my head, then another entered it.
Where had that other lad gotten off too?
I imagined a pair of rough hands grabbing me and pushing me off the path, then approaching from behind my unsuspecting sister, much like I had intended earlier with the a stick. But in my mind, what the third one was holdin, was no stick!
Get a grip lad, I thought to myself, as I looked behind us. But the path seemed to be deserted enough.
We moved on, my sister wanting to ask a million questions, but I motioned to her to move away silently.
We cautiously made our way back along the path, looking and listening all about us.
Finally,( it seemed like forever) without further incident, we came out to the edge of the woods and the welcome sight of the parking lot behind the promised sanctuary of the church..
I could see up ahead, on the road leading from the parking lot, the pair still walking beside their bike. We watched until they had moved off out of sight. Then we both darted across the lot and got to the exit leading back down to the security of the reception going on below.
Once safely inside we caught our breaths, before scampering down the stairs. Both of us headed directly to the loo, shortly meeting up again inside the reception area.
People were still dancing and mingling, totally unaware that we had even gone.
Even our parents, when we met up with them back at our table, just calmly asked if we were enjoying ourselves. We looked at each other smiling, yes we said in unison as we both plopped down in our seats.
They then asked what we had been up to in order to amuse ourselves?
“Dancing! “ my sister chirped, then rising, she got me up and led me onto the dance floor to avoid further questions.
We began our dance, weaving our way in and out of the by now liquored up adults.
We mulled over the close shave we had had, and now that the danger had passed, looked upon the occurrence as a bit of a lark. But all thoughts had left of my plots on relieving my sister of her jewels. I felt that it would just would be bad cricket.
It was a slow dance and we mimicked what the other couples were doing, still awkwardly since we had not really had much experience at it. But it was enjoyable all the same.
I know she is just my sister, but as I was aware then of a certain inkling, one that I really grew to appreciate later on with my wife, there is nothing like the experience of holding a warm body in close dance, especially one that is clad in a shiny gown and even shinier jewels!
The music ended all too soon and we left the floor.
My sister stopped me, Well little brother she said ( she is older by a few minutes and never lets me forget), thank you for saving me, and she gave me quite an enveloping hug.
I told her it was nothing.. and she smiled sweetly up at me before we continued our way back.
As we walked I reached down to straighten my tie that I had felt flapping about. It was then I realized my clasp was gone.
I looked at my sister, walking on ahead… The little snit had taken it when she had been giving me a hug, pretending to be sincere!
Game on “older” sister I thought…
My sister slid on her chair at the table, smugly looking all the world like a jeweled cat that had caught the canary. Said jewels, , especially her necklace, still were dancing about with sparkles under the lights, like they too were mocking me..
Well missy I thought, lets try another dance then!
And with my mind I envisioned back to the time I had been successful at slipping off another of her necklaces while we had danced a couple of years back.
But I never got the opportunity, for the band was taking a break, and shortly our parents reappeared to collect us.
We got our coats from the check in, and prepared to leave…
And so it twas, that the evening ended late, and as I helped my sister on with her black velvet jacket. All opportunity seemed lost, at least till next time.
We went back up the stairs we had snuck out on earlier, and regained our car in the now dark parking lot.
We settled in the back of the car for the long trog home.
Soon she was fast asleep, lulled by the cars engine.
Again I smelled ripe opportunity !
I looked down at my passed-out sister, so peacefully dreaming away. I placed my arm around her shoulder, she did not budge. Her jewels were mostly hidden by her fastened velvet jacket.
I looked ahead at my parents, but they were not looking back, probably figuring we both were asleep.
Like a curious thief, I reached down and with upmost care, unfastened the three buttons that hide the treasures from view. After I had undid the last, I pulled her jacket open a bit then settled back and out of the corner of my eye, admired my handiwork !
Her now exposed sleekly soft lavender gown looked like it was pouring out along her figure from underneath the stark black velvet jacket. Her splendid collection of jewels were easy to find, as they occasionally sparkled as headlights from passing cars caught them up in their light.
Her necklace still holding a glittery court as it dropped freely from down around her throat.
So very pretty as it lay there shimmering, and so vulnerably within reach !
My fingers soon began their familiar tingling, my thoughts were racing...
What would that thief on the show had done?
There had been no cars on that show, they were on a deserted island after all.
I shook my head clear and settled back… then opened my eyes wide..
The most wicked, tantalizingly vexing, of thoughts washed over me with a delicious tingle.
But he had robbed them as they slept!
Plus my twerp of a sister did still have my tie clip, didn’t she now?!
I cautiously reached over and then around my twin’s slumbering form, moving my hand down along her side.
My fingers went inside her jacket, glided along her gown till I reached her glittery purse on the seat next to her. I managed to snap open the purses’ clasp, finding and lifting out my purloined gold plated tie clasp.
Putting it in my pocket, I looked the situation most carefully over, both my victims position, as well as the placement of her quite glimmering jewels.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to locate and move her jewels about, to see if my victim would stir. She did not! I could now feel the hooked clasp of her necklace.
I lifted up the chain, easily unhooked her necklace, and pulled it ever so carefully from around her throat, stealing glances at the rearview mirror, but our parents still were not paying us in the back any heed.
I finished sliding the necklace around, pulling it away. letting it dangle as a set of headlights from a passing car bathed it in sparkling array, then, reaching around my slumbering victims soft figure, deposited it inside the purse.
It was the best piece she was wearing of all her jewelry, and so naturally would be the first to be taken by any thief worth his salt under similar circumstances !
I reached back down, my fingers feeling along her still gloved arm till I reached her wrist. Then carefully placing a finger under it, lifted the bracelet before finding and then working open its’ clasp. Off it came easily, sliding snakelike from around her wrist. I reached over her again, and it soon landed on top of its mate in her purse .
She stirred a bit, and I reached my arm around my victim’s soft waist, pulled her a bit closer, and she soon settled in back to sleep.
Then I worked on her earrings next. Reaching in her hair, locating, then most cautiously started slipping off, each of her clasped earrings in turn. The twin buggers would not elude me this time!
It wasn’t easy, and took some tricky effort, but I managed it, and in careful turn, slowly, with most upmost care, caressed smoothly each long diamonded earring off her ears in turn. My victim felt nothing, did not stir again from her probably most pleasant dreams.
The purloined earrings also joined their glistening fellows on top of the growing pile inside her purse
Finally I found and worked off her ring from a gloved finger, greatly aided by the smoothness of said satin glove.
As I finished, I deposited the ring, clasped my sister’s purse shut, a job well done.
Feeling rather like an actual thief at that point, I finished the job by slipping the small purse, now weighty with gems, into my pocket.
I knew what just I was going to do next….
Last Autumn my twin had lifted my wallet while pretending to stand behind me fixing my collar to tuck in my tie. I had not caught on at the time, and when I did, she had had time to hide it. In order to get it back, she ransomed it by making me do a full weeks’ worth of her chores.
Well my sweet, conniving sister, what goes around, comes around !
All I had to do was keep her from noticing her jewels had been lifted.
While I dwelt over this thought I eyed over my victim admiring my handy work.
My sister turned a bit, mumbling a little.
She had stretched out and moved away a little, I had just finished relieving her of her jewels just in time!
But as I looked her over, I realized that I had missed a trick! With the next passing car, I saw her now exposed brooch glisteningly betraying its position!
I moved over, leaning, reached down and in, once again my fingers glided along her smooth gown, until I reached her satin sash. Using the sash as a path, I travelled along it till I reached the glittering holdout!
I lifted the jewel, and this time my fingers easily found its’ clasp. Working blind, I thought I had unpinned it, and began pulling the dangly brooch from her sash.
But It was still attached, and as I pulled up, my sister again stirred, waking up, mumbling.
She moved over away from me to the door, rubbing her eyes, still not quite awake.
I just casually started chatting my victim up.
My foremost intention was in keeping her attention diverted from discovering her missing jewels and purse till after we got home and I had had time to hide it!
She managed to say a few words, but the time between those words got long and longer, till she fell back to sleep, lulled in again by the motion of our car.
Forced to be satisfied with what I had, and still happy with the revenge that would soon be mine, I now comfortably settled back into my seat.
I looked over my sister’s now almost jewel less ( damn the brooch) , blissfully sleeping figure, and soon drifted off to join her in happy dreams of my own!!
I woke from deep sleep as we arrived back at our house after the 90 minute ride back from the county.
My parents got out and tasked me with waking my still sleeping sister , ( not always a pleasant task by any means, even to this day I bear the scars(smiles)), and then pushing her up to bed.
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We live in a split level. An attached garage was converted by a former owner into a master bedroom. This is where my parents would be heading. The other end, with its staircase leading upstairs was where I had to drag my sister. The three bedrooms and bath upstairs were our domain. Each of us having our own bedroom, and the third room was employed as a playroom/sewing room.
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I began to shake her awake, which, true to form, she rather grumpily tried to fight off.
Finally I just went to the other side and began to pull her out. She slowly, most painstakingly woke herself up and was able to manage finishing getting out on her own.
Leaning against me, still half awake, I helped her up the walk and led her inside the house. All the while snickering that she had no clue that her purse and other valuables were gone, hidden in my pocket, right under her very eyes!
At some point my sister had rebuttoned her velvet jacket, which helped my deception play out immensely.
Especially since once me dad had helped mum off with her faux mink jacket, she had come over and given us each a kiss goodnight. Her necklace, the twin to my sisters , still was glittering around her throat.
If either parental unit had noticed the my sisters missing jewels, I would have had some fast explaining how they came in my passion, and would have lost any hint of revenge. And it was my week to mow the bloody lawn !
Now feeling rather cocky as both parents left us alone, I went over to gallantly helped Sis, who had unbuttoned her velvet jacket, slip off it off , and hung it up for her.
She turned towards me on the first step thanking me. I accepted, secretly looking over her pretty gowned figure that I had so deviously stripped bare of its pretty ornaments, except of course that cursed taunting brooch, which was still freely dangling about at the sashed waistline of my sister’s gown!!
Turning off the downstairs lights, I followed my sister’s swishing progress ahead of me up the stairs.
I saw the unwary victim of my thievery to her room, across from mine, seeing her inside, as I closed the door behind her.
I went to my room, closed my own door and breathed a sigh of relief.
Perfect I thought, saying under my breath, Game set and Match!
Figuring she should come knocking anytime now once she discovered her missing jewels as she was undressing, I laid out on my bed, still in my suit , and waited with eager anticipation till she did.
My thoughts went to a week without assorted chores, including mowing any lawns. Starting with tomorrow. No wait, tomorrow was Sunday. We were on our own , sis and I after morning Church. Our parents were leaving for the big city, shopping, a movie than dinner out to celebrate an early anniversary,, coming back in at around ten that evening.
My eyes opened, a deviously delicious thought had come creeping into my mind.
Give my twin a choice, my week’s chores, or spend Sunday after the parents leave playing the damsel to my thief!
We had played similar games before, my sister being a huge fan of robbing hood as she called Robin Hood, as well as our take on cops n Robbers, and something she came up with called “Help me Honey!” A game where I would have dual roles; she would direct me into placing her in peril, then have me come as a hero to rescue the damsel from the peril she had me put her in!
She could wear the same gown, her jewels, and her black velvet jacket with it if we went outside to the woods. Or better yet, mums mink would still be here ( Sis was always trying it on) !
I mulled over this for some time, while waiting for the expected knock to come….
I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened when the timid knock was finally made at my door.
It was 2:35 in the bloody morning!
I rolled out of bed and opened my door.
She was standing there ,rubbing her eyes and yawning. I could see her opened door across the hall, light spilling out.
She was also still clad in her elegant gown, looking like a half awakened princess .
And there it was, her twinkling brooch. It still dangled from its position on the sash at her waist. Its’ frenzied sparkles appeared to be mocking my failure at taking it along with the rest of its’ mates!
She hadn’t even made it past the bed in her room before falling unconscious upon it fully clothed !!
What’s up I asked, a bit grumpily, for I had all but forgotten what mischief I had been at.
“My jewels ?” she said miserably, “Their missing!”
“Are you sure?” I asked
That made her think a few seconds before answering, her still gloved hand feeling a diamond necklace and earrings that definitely were no longer sparkling there like they had been earlier .
“Yes I am sure they are gone !” she said rather miserably.
“You took them off twit, probably still on your dresser. Now go to back to bed ! “ I answered paternally , just wanting to do the same myself.
“No,” she said, forlornly shaking her head, “I went right to bed without taking anything off atoll, didn’t I, and she spread out her luxurious gown.
“ I’ve looked everywhere!” She pleaded.
“Was your window opened?” I asked, finally awake enough to tease.
“Yes, I always do, why?” she questioned.
“You fell asleep steal wearing your jewels!” I pointed out…
“Maybe a burglar broke in and took them off you as you slept?” I stated, as I reached over and pointed at the place her necklace had been dangling upon.” Looks like he picked you over clean now !”
“No” she said, again shaking her head, “there was no burglar, and besides no thief could do something like that, I would’ve been woken up !”
“I don’t know” I answered thoughtful, “Someone obviously got the whole lot off you, without you noticing !”
She shivered, “No there was no thief!” she still insisted…
“Lets go and see” I said, and had her turn, followed her swishy gown clad figure back to her room.
I asked if she had checked around the bed, she nodded yes. Check again I commanded and she obediently began looking.
As she did I went over to her opened window, and swiftly slipped her purse, still holding her jewels, from my jacket pocket and placed it out on the ledge. Rather forgetting my old plans, as a deviously new one developed, to make her believe a burglar had been in her room.
Sounds rather mean I know, but I was not fully awake enough to really reason out that aspect!
“You ninny I said, here is your purse ! “ She swished over to my side, and I pointed down.
She reached down and retrieved it, feeling its new heft, she opened it, revealing her sparkling jewels.
She than just stared up at me, disbelief in her sad puppy like eyes.
“Here now ,” I said, “let me show you, Go lay back on your bed” I instructed !
She submissively did so, slipping back up and looking at me blinking from her pillow.
She looked all the world like a sad forlorn young princess , like she did when I played her game with her.
I turned out her lights, laid the purse down beside her, then went to the opened window.
A stream of light from the moon lit up her bed, I could see her clearly as she lay there.
“This is what probably happened Sis…”
“The burglar came in through this window” I mimicked it..
“ He saw you there asleep , and came over for a closer peek.”
I moved in, and saw her shiver as I approached, her whole begowned figure moving as she inched up away from my menacing dark shadowy figure…..
“He saw you were wearing jewels, and decided that he certainly must have them for himself.” ,
My sister had shrunk back as I approached.
“He reached along, and began to..
My fingers had glided up along her quivering figure till I had reached her waist, where I then lifted up her brooch.
“He than steals your…”
She cut me off… “There was no thief! “she insisted her eyes wide, but I could see the beginning of doubt creeping in her voice.”
“That cannot happen, burglars cannot take jewels like that , not with out waking a person up!” she tried to argue, herself half believing it may have happened like that!..
Ignoring her protests, , I picked up the purse from where I dropped it, went back to the window.
“You must have startled him and he dropped the goods as he was leaving, and an ran off!”
She had turned white as a ghost, trying to disbelieve in my words.
“No, it didn’t happen, couldn’t !” she vainly still trying on insisting my scenarios away.
“Tell you what lets try an experiment “ . I suggested as I turned back on the lights.
I laid the opened purse down beside her, jewels inside dimly glimmering .
“Put your jewels back on then, go to back bed, and in a couple of hours once you are back asleep I will come in and ….Li”
“No” she said, cutting me off… “I still don’t….” then she stopped talking as she saw the smirk on my face
“Your right!” I said assuring her qualms ,”There was no thief. It was me, I took em and put them there.”
“You took them, you turd “she scolded, WHEN..HOW?” she directly appealed in a rather fetchingly imploring way…as she raised her arms up to me to help her up.
“Every thief has their secrets luv” I said, as she slipped off from the bed and stood looking up at me, then let out a rather wide Yawn..
I was looking her still begowned figure over, her brooch the only jewel left, still putting on a rather dazzling show as she finished her relaxing yawn, I realized just how long a day it’d been, and just how tired we both were.
It had, actually been a quite long event filled day!
“Maybe I’ll tell in the morning, its late, lets get you off to bed !” I said, and she leaned happily up against me, I wrapped my arms around her warm, slippery figure.
“Good night Sis “ I said and kissed her on the forehead, then started to leave.
“Good night Baby brother” , she said smirking, as she reached back behind her with gloved hands fumbling to undo the tied bow of her gowns’ sash…
“Here,” I said, “please allow me.”
I went up behind her, as she turned to allow me access to the satin bow tied at the back of her svelte waiste.
She giggled as I pulled her bow, making her move back closer to me, as I worked on loosening the satin bows knot.
“I am so glad you have reformed Mr thief, I can feel safe wearing my jewels around you !” she said with another giggle, as I pulled the bow apart,
letting the loose ends dangle freely down.
“Indeed, so you can! “ I said assuringly, my hands wrapping around her waist to give her a hug.
“And I owe it all to you!” I said into her ear.
“There now ” I said as released her with a gentle push moving her towards the dresser. “to bed with you”
“Good night sir” she said facing away, bending over to open a drawer.
I back up alongside her bed, stopping to watch her a minute as she fumbled around in the open drawer.
“Good night “ I echoed, watched as she turned to face me with a swish. Holding a silky nightdress in a gloved hand.
She just smiled at me as I left, closing her door behind me.
I stood with my back to her closed door, grinning…
I opened my left hand, looking down with satisfaction at the sparkling brooch I had easily lifted from her pretty gown while hugging her after untying her bow.
So much for reformation!
I then pulled her unclasped purse , boldly reclaimed from its perch on her bed, from my jacket pocket and slipped the newly acquired brooch inside to join the rest of her purloined jewels…
I congratulated myself, my mind already traveling to tomorrow, Sunday, and the stealing prospects it promised to bring.
I began to walk away from her door, stopping suddenly I turned and looked back.
I whispered out to the closed door…
Addressing my unseen sister on the other side, who would have finally removed by now her quite pretty lavender brides maids gown and exchanged it with her sleeping attire..
“ Lessons Learned Luv!” I whispered with devious intent, taking on my character for tomorrow .
“ Never trust a thief , and don’t ever turn your pretty back to one!”
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Gilligan’s Island,
Season 3
The Kidnapper with Don Rickles