View allAll Photos Tagged SOMETHING
the river stands high this winter, almost at the dike which is pretty unusual.
shot again with my 50mm f/2 pre-ai at f/8
the beatles - something
Something in the way she moves,
Attracts me like no other lover.
Something in the way she woos me.
I don't want to leave her now,
You know I believe and how.
Somewhere in her smile she knows,
That I don't need no other lover.
Something in her style that shows me.
I don't want to leave her now,
You know I believe and how.
You're asking me will my love grow,
I don't know, I don't know.
Stick around, and it may show,
But I don't know, I don't know.
Something in the way she knows,
And all I have to do is think of her.
Something in the things she shows me.
I don't want to leave her now.
You know I believe and how.
in my pictures these days... Don't really know what it is... I kind of have proven my point (at least to myself) - now something new must show up...
But what???
The ruins of a grocery store front some of Sedona's red rocks as well as the snow-covered top of Arizona, Humphreys Peak (12,633').
Seen in Jerome, Arizona.
Photo taken and vignette written for the Jules' Photo Challenge Group!
It was 1893, in New Orleans. I kept a curiosity shop at that time, just off of an odd area of Tchoupitoulas Street. You could walk from the old streetcar line in those days. Dusty shelves and half-stuck cabinets filled with odd things, things people didn’t even know they wanted, but needed. Half the front room was always in shadow, shielding likely patrons from prying eyes as they bought exotic incense, love potions, candlewax, or a simple talisman. The other half was for the blind part of society, the tourists looking through the window for a hat, beads, patterned fabric, a local painting . . .
When she came in, I knew she knew about the back room, the smoky room always infused with the scent of patchouli and coal smoke from a rarely used grate, the squeaky uneven wood floor, the voodoo, and the cards. She pretended to browse, but I knew she knew. She was too young to be out and about on her own without an escort, but times were changing. I would guess less than 18.
She wore a very tight fitted black bodice with satin insets, a heavy silk brocade skirt, and a silver necklace set with what might be a ruby.
“Help you, m’dear?” I asked.
She smiled. “Maybe.”
“Go on with you, now. See what you see.”
She smelled of roses and I thought I could see a reflection of sunflowers in her eyes. She moved with a subtle leonine grace, careful as she surveyed the items offered.
“I’m looking for something,” she said. “Something I’ve lost.”
“Maybe I can help,” I said, “or maybe I cannot. There are not always those who want to know a truth, you know? I’m just sayin’.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she said. I could see part of a fleur de lis tattooed on the back of her neck as she bent over a roll of antique velvet, her shawl falling away. She had a marvelous décolletage.
“Your tattoo, Miss. Have you had it long? It reminds me of somewhere in Paris, but then, it also reminds me of New Orleans.” I couldn’t help but mention it. Her accent was a bit French, and maybe something of Russian thrown in. Not something I could really put a finger on.
“No! I haven’t had it long. I have just come from Paris. I got it near a marvelous place called the Moulin Rouge. Naughty dances, naughty people! Do you know it? I guess it’s not a place for nice girls, is it? But there is a wonderful elephant in the back garden!”
“An elephant?” I arched my eyebrows. I had been in that very place several years before and knew the garden well, except for the elephant. I loved the area of Montmartre, in fact. A gathering place for the beautiful people of the underworld, the gypsies and artists, the rich and the aspiring.
“Oh yes!” she said! “A most marvelous elephant! It came there from some sort of exhibition. You can see all of Paris from inside the head! There are many slate covered roofs like here.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know the elephant.”
“What about the cards?” she said suddenly.
I stood quiet for three heartbeats. “What about the cards?”
“You WILL read for me. That much I know. Now you must tell me what I have lost.”
“What are you doing here, in our city? Aside from searching for something.”
“I actually went to see the house where the artist Degas stayed. He was only here a few months, I understand, but art- it is important to the world. It is important to you, I feel it. Many of his works speak of New Orleans. Krewe of Rex sent out their Mardi Gras Proclaimation, too, and I thought I might attend their ball. I also lit candles in St. Louis Cathedral,” she said.
I smiled and wondered who she sent prayers up for. She followed me to the back, our silk skirts making dust tornadoes along the floor. I held the warped door for her and gestured to a black draped table in a tiny niche of the room. She sat perfectly still while I got my favorite set of tarot cards, the ones I keep in an old velvet and print drawstring bag in the bottom drawer of the dresser.
“The cards can speak, or like the city, they can hold their secrets. Maybe you have lost a man, perhaps had trouble with a lover, though I think you are young for many losses of that kind,” I said.
“Haven’t we all had trouble of that nature?!” she giggled. “If you are a woman, you have probably had trouble with a man. Is that not true?” Her laugh was a little brittle, but delightfully young. “I think I have not lost a man. Read for me; tell me what I am searching for, and then we will talk.”
I shrugged. The cards felt warm in my hands. Always difficult to let someone else touch them. I fanned them out before me.
“Chose two cards,” I said. “Lay them face down.”
She chose quickly, without thinking, as if she already knew which would be important to her.
I picked up the first card slowly, suddenly nervous. There were two cards stuck together! Something I have never had in a reading. It felt odd, and very important.
“Queen of Pentacles, and Queen of Cups! You are in a powerful transition of life,” I said carefully. “Between a time of youth and frivolity, and a time of greater care and family. To draw two queens means that your life will be a tug-of-war between your natures . . . To accomplish your goal, you must draw from the nature of each of the powerful women inside you.”
I turned over the next card.
“Queen of Wands,” I said, stating the obvious to give myself time to think about what it might mean. “This is usually my card, but . . . “ And then with one breath, I knew.
“You are searching for a sister!” I exclaimed.
She reached into a pocket of her skirt and began to cry, holding out something in her fist. It was a sterling fleur de lis, identical to the one my grandmother had given me when I was a child.
“We have a LOT to talk about!” she said.
That is how I met my sister, Jules!
“Moulin Rouge”: (Rated R)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQa7SvVCdZk
****
Fido looks puzzled on his usual walk across the Millfield in Stony Stratford. Perhaps it has something to do with Storm Dennis dumping lots of water everywhere! At least his owner is sensibly wearing wellies, which is something I should have anticipated after previous floods in this area...
a brides bouquet from a shoot I did a few weeks back..from the verse ; something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...
This is an older photograph from 2011 but in my mind, it highlights the unadulterated joy of being able to experience something wonderful and the ability to share it later on.
For today's Kiss Goodbye to MS photo challenge, I am going back to my youth and reliving some happy memories. I used to be as passionate about dance as I am today about photography. In dance I used to find ways to express myself and my emotions, and the physical exercise helped to focus my mind and calm my soul. Today, I use the camera in a similar way ... these are my old ballet shoes, tattered and torn and when I take them out of their "special box" my feet still itch to put them on ... I wish I could kiss goodbye to MS.
8 days left to share and image with the pledge to kiss goodbye group to help raise awareness about MS.
I also have a fund raising page, Palo's Pledge, that accepts donations on behalf of MS Australia to further research into this disease.
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COPYRIGHT © Dragon Papillon Photography. 2013. All rights reserved.
All is well, I have no time for flickr! I miss all of you!!!!!
Seriously, I think of my wonderful flickr friends all the time! You all rock!
xoxo
115 pics in 2015 pic#87 Metal....
ANSH scavenger2 A cog/gear
and i am done with the items for this round--
just need to double-check
and to make a collage/montage
With a lite rain falling, Finally after two west that had to run from WSS Mored to SSS Steward, The Erie was on the move again after waiting 2 hrs for the west bounds. He pulled out of the Burke Siding at 19:15 met 1 WB at Chadwick and another at Straford arriving at SSS Steward 2 hrs later. It was a pretty cool looking unit.That"s # 12 for me on the heritage count..