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In Iceland, a solo exhibit a JCC, Bridgewater, NJ, April, 2018

 

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Condamné à passer un hiver très rude

 

Encore un panneau stop détourné,devant des arbres enneigés se découpant sur les belles façades colorées derrière la mairie de la Croix-rousse

[www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYERWjP4on8/ ♫♫]

 

"And since our prison is

A land whose only horizon

Is a desert

A desert

And since we must suffer standing up

To survive here only on our knees

In the dust

Since love

Is unattainable, one day

And the dream too heavy

To be free one day

But may God forgive me

If being only a man

Is my maximum sentence

And since our calls are lost

And our sky remains without light

And without a gaze

Wherever we look

Even if believing is only a recourse

Before the little hope that surrounds us

That leads us astray

Since love

Is unattainable, one day

And the dream too heavy

To be free one day

But may God forgive me

If being only a man

Is my maximum sentence

Oh, oh

Maximum

But why kneel?

For whom would I want to live standing up?

Since love

Is unattainable, one day

And the dream too heavy

To be free one day

But may God forgive me

If being only a man

Is my greatest sorrow

But may God forgive me

If being only a man

Is my greatest sorrow

Oh, oh, greatest

Is my greatest sorrow "

Once this red line appears on the tree, it is sentenced to be cut down. Those ashes are attacked by caterpillar of chine. And to try to save other trees, infected one are cut.

I love taking photos of this sexy little cutie. Proof you can have those two words in one sentence.

Sunset, Scottsdale, Arizona, 2017. Shot with iphone and turned into a mirror image in Photoshop..

Doing time inside all week long at the job, now sentenced to see this beautiful sky while traveling home....I don't know about these travelers but I can handle this type of sentence just fine:)

Sentenced to drift far away now. Nothing is quite what it seems.

A photo of me, taken by a friend and colleague. Drinks at the King's Arms, Dorking, Surrey. on my last day at Unum.

 

Taken with a Nikon D40 and a Nikkor AFS DX 18-200mm F/3.5-5.6G lens and processed in GIMP and Photoscape.

 

Check out my 100 most interesting photos on Flickr!

"One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them"...

 

I took this photo, I would say rather in the style of the Lord of the Rings, a few evenings ago from the East Col d’Ambin, at 2921 meters above sea level, where the Blais bivouac is located.

A storm had just passed, so the sunset turned out quite evocative.

It almost seemed me to hear the famous sentence: “I See You" echoing in the air...

 

YouTube channel “Organo Santuario della Consolata”

YouTube channel “ALPS pictures & tales”

Instagram @roberto.bertero

 

Personal Website

_____________________

  

©Roberto Bertero, All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.

artık kısa cümleler zamanı...

This was one of columns in Palmyra. There was a human sculpture right above the sentences. I believe these sentences are descriptions about the sculpture and written in two different languages.

 

I found information on Palmyrene alphabet as “two forms of the Palmyrene alphabet were developed: The rounded, cursive form derived from the Aramaic alphabet and later a decorative, monumental form developed from the cursive Palmyrene. Both the cursive and monumental forms commonly used orthographic ligatures.”

Gotta love that sentence in Multiplayer :D

 

Yes, that is the finalized version of my Snow Helghast. Inspirations will be added.

He has a custom STA52 with removable ammo.

  

Tell me what you think!

Better large. Thanks for stopping by.

 

Censorship is saying: 'I'm the one who says the last sentence. Whatever you say, the conclusion is mine.' But the internet is like a tree that is growing. The people will always have the last word - even if someone has a very weak, quiet voice. Such power will collapse because of a whisper.

 

Ai Weiwei

 

.

  

We've been losing Grandma for years. Stroke, after stroke. None large enough to stop her pain, all perfectly placed to pull her further and futher away from us and into her ailing body. Her brain has become a sharply divided territory. Her ability to communicate has been reduced to frustrated cries and nonsensical half-sentences. And though she rarely spoke Italian in her adult life, now she ocassionally comes out with near-perfect sentences in her mother's tongue. (Although I know there must be a neurological explanation for this phenomenon, I like to think that my great-grandmother, a woman she cherished & admired, is whispering comfort to her. Nothing the rest of us says seems to help much.)

 

She no longer reliably knows my name, but the sight of my face still brings a smile to hers. And when I tears started to roll down my cheeks, she sighed & said, "I know." A clarion moment in an otherwise tortured visit.

 

We lost her a long time ago, but we've never stopped loving her. I know we'll never get her back, so I just hope she finds peace soon.

 

(for Rose Civita, with love & hope. I long to hear your laughter.)

 

02-Dec-2008

 

Blogged at Pieces of the Picture (by Tommy Peterson). Please take a moment to visit.

Solo show "As Seen Through a Veil: The Obscured View," at Gallery 14, 14 Mercer St, Hopewell, NJ, Jan 6 - Feb 5, 2017

 

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Today i recieved emails asking about my previous reflection shot, one of those email has this sentence "you are so good in digital manupulation" which makes me ..aAAaarrh~!

Lots of times i make mistakes in shooting/proccessing and i learn from that (also input from my generous contacts), I respect the originality and quality , from RAW-TIFF-JPEG all proccessed from one shot and no blended images. Thanks :)

 

Canon EOS 50D

EF-S 10-22mm f/3.5-4.5 USM

0.1sec • f/22 • 12 mm • ISO 100

HITECH Filter ND Grad

RAW proccessed with Digital Photo Pro

TIFF proccessed with Adobe Photoshop CS3

It really is a death sentence. The fact that we are collectively ignoring it bewilders me to put it mildly.

 

Wonderful Friday and weekend to you. A special thank you to all of you wonderful women out there as Mother's Day is this Sunday. Much peace, love and happiness to each and every one of you.

 

Play Projects

Mmmm, ______

 

'Homer' from the latest 'The Simpsons' themed series of LEGO minifigures, out now to coincide with the Springfield family's 550th episode.

 

Join me on facebook for a daily dose of minifig adventures.

www.ildolomiti.it/cronaca/2024/m90-gli-animalisti-sul-pie...

 

Death sentence also for M90 (Sonny) by the Autonomous Province of Trento (PAT). There is no peace for the bears. The Trentino people accepted their reintroduction, only to then fail to implement the appropriate measures for coexistence, and now they want to exterminate them again. Call to the square in Trento on Saturday 10 February for all animal rights activists.

Bears are exterminated as they were exterminated in the 19th century. Human beings have made no progress in their relationship with animals. The Earth is ours, ours alone: ​​this is the common feeling.

 

Condanna a morte anche per M90 (Sonny) da parte della Provincia Autonoma di Trento (PAT). Non c'è pace per gli orsi. I Trentini hanno accettato la loro reintroduzione, per poi non mettere in atto le misure adeguate alla convivenza, e ora li vogliono sterminare di nuovo. Chiamata in piazza a Trento sabato 10 febbraio per tutti gli animalisti.

Si sterminano gli orsi come sono stati sterminati nell'800. L'essere umano non ha fatto nessun progresso nel rapporto con gli animali. La Terra è nostra, solo nostra: questo è il sentimento comune.

 

Do you know this sentence :

"Optimism is the cheerful frame of mind that enables a teakettle to sing, though in hot water up to its nose " ?

 

Today I'm just like that.

  

Soonest Mended

 

BY JOHN ASHBERY

 

Barely tolerated, living on the margin

In our technological society, we were always having to be rescued

On the brink of destruction, like heroines in Orlando Furioso

Before it was time to start all over again.

There would be thunder in the bushes, a rustling of coils,

And Angelica, in the Ingres painting, was considering

The colorful but small monster near her toe, as though wondering whether forgetting

The whole thing might not, in the end, be the only solution.

And then there always came a time when

Happy Hooligan in his rusted green automobile

Came plowing down the course, just to make sure everything was O.K.,

Only by that time we were in another chapter and confused

About how to receive this latest piece of information.

Was it information? Weren’t we rather acting this out

For someone else’s benefit, thoughts in a mind

With room enough and to spare for our little problems (so they began to seem),

Our daily quandary about food and the rent and bills to be paid?

To reduce all this to a small variant,

To step free at last, minuscule on the gigantic plateau—

This was our ambition: to be small and clear and free.

Alas, the summer’s energy wanes quickly,

A moment and it is gone. And no longer

May we make the necessary arrangements, simple as they are.

Our star was brighter perhaps when it had water in it.

Now there is no question even of that, but only

Of holding on to the hard earth so as not to get thrown off,

With an occasional dream, a vision: a robin flies across

The upper corner of the window, you brush your hair away

And cannot quite see, or a wound will flash

Against the sweet faces of the others, something like:

This is what you wanted to hear, so why

Did you think of listening to something else? We are all talkers

It is true, but underneath the talk lies

The moving and not wanting to be moved, the loose

Meaning, untidy and simple like a threshing floor.

 

These then were some hazards of the course,

Yet though we knew the course was hazards and nothing else

It was still a shock when, almost a quarter of a century later,

The clarity of the rules dawned on you for the first time.

They were the players, and we who had struggled at the game

Were merely spectators, though subject to its vicissitudes

And moving with it out of the tearful stadium, borne on shoulders, at last.

Night after night this message returns, repeated

In the flickering bulbs of the sky, raised past us, taken away from us,

Yet ours over and over until the end that is past truth,

The being of our sentences, in the climate that fostered them,

Not ours to own, like a book, but to be with, and sometimes

To be without, alone and desperate.

But the fantasy makes it ours, a kind of fence-sitting

Raised to the level of an esthetic ideal. These were moments, years,

Solid with reality, faces, namable events, kisses, heroic acts,

But like the friendly beginning of a geometrical progression

Not too reassuring, as though meaning could be cast aside some day

When it had been outgrown. Better, you said, to stay cowering

Like this in the early lessons, since the promise of learning

Is a delusion, and I agreed, adding that

Tomorrow would alter the sense of what had already been learned,

That the learning process is extended in this way, so that from this standpoint

None of us ever graduates from college,

For time is an emulsion, and probably thinking not to grow up

Is the brightest kind of maturity for us, right now at any rate.

And you see, both of us were right, though nothing

Has somehow come to nothing; the avatars

Of our conforming to the rules and living

Around the home have made—well, in a sense, “good citizens” of us,

Brushing the teeth and all that, and learning to accept

The charity of the hard moments as they are doled out,

For this is action, this not being sure, this careless

Preparing, sowing the seeds crooked in the furrow,

Making ready to forget, and always coming back

To the mooring of starting out, that day so long ago.

  

John Ashbery, “Soonest Mended” from The Double Dream of Spring. Copyright © 1966, 1970 by John Ashbery. Reprinted with the permission of Georges Borchardt, Inc. on behalf of the author.

 

Source: The Mooring of Starting Out: The First Five Books of Poetry (Ecco Press, 1997)

 

^ ^ ^.^ ^ ^

 

The Black Angels: "You On The Run"

www.ildolomiti.it/cronaca/2024/m90-gli-animalisti-sul-pie...

 

Death sentence also for M90 (Sonny) by the Autonomous Province of Trento (PAT). There is no peace for the bears. The Trentino people accepted their reintroduction, only to then fail to implement the appropriate measures for coexistence, and now they want to exterminate them again. Call to the square in Trento on Saturday 10 February for all animal rights activists.

Bears are exterminated as they were exterminated in the 19th century. Human beings have made no progress in their relationship with animals. The Earth is ours, ours alone: ​​this is the common feeling.

 

Condanna a morte anche per M90 (Sonny) da parte della Provincia Autonoma di Trento (PAT). Non c'è pace per gli orsi. I Trentini hanno accettato la loro reintroduzione, per poi non mettere in atto le misure adeguate alla convivenza, e ora li vogliono sterminare di nuovo. Chiamata in piazza a Trento sabato 10 febbraio per tutti gli animalisti.

Si sterminano gli orsi come sono stati sterminati nell'800. L'essere umano non ha fatto nessun progresso nel rapporto con gli animali. La Terra è nostra, solo nostra: questo è il sentimento comune.

The sentence "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." was written by Gertrude Stein as part of the 1913 poem Sacred Emily, which appeared in the 1922 book Geography and Plays. "A rose is a rose is a rose" is probably her most famous quote, often interpreted as "things are what they are."

tv shot

 

"A thing too perfect to be remembered:

stone beautiful only when wet.

 

* * *

 

Blinded by light or black cloth—

so many ways

not to see others suffer.

 

* * *

 

Too much longing:

 

it separates us

like scent from bread,

rust from iron.

 

* * *

 

From very far or very close—

the most resolute folds of the mountain are gentle.

 

* * *

 

As if putting arms into woolen coat sleeves,

we listen to the murmuring dead.

 

* * *

 

Any point of a circle is its start:

desire forgoing fulfillment to go on desiring.

 

* * *

 

In a room in which nothing

has happened,

sweet-scented tobacco.

 

* * *

 

The very old, hands curling into themselves, remember their parents.

 

* * *

 

Think assailable thoughts, or be lonely."

 

-- Jane Hirshfield

 

"Prisoners of Age" is photographer Ron Levine's groundbreaking work with geriatric convicts. It is a series of photographs and interviews with elderly inmates - sentenced for life - conducted in prisons both in the United States and Canada since 1996.

His images are disturbing and affecting, macabre and poignant, straddling the thin line between retribution and redemption.

 

"The butterfly counts not months but moments,

and has time enough."

~ Rabindranath Tagore ~

In memory of my lovely father.

The sentence "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." was written by Gertrude Stein as part of the 1913 poem "Sacred Emily", which appeared in the 1922 book Geography and Plays. In that poem, the first "Rose" is the name of a person. Stein later used variations on the sentence in other writings, and "A rose is a rose is a rose" is among her most famous quotations,

Day 31: Finish this sentence: This Halloween, I hope ...

#comics

As I am trudging thru the jungle, sweat pouring off my face and onto my camouflage, balancing my heavy equipment …. Wait …. Wait …. Wait … This is insane, that’s not me; why would I be in the jungle without a rifle exposing myself to jaguars and panthers or worse, poisonous snakes and spiders? As I slowly awake from this nightmare (caused by sitting in the Adirondack for far too long without a refreshment in sight) I am aware of facing down this squirrel thru my long lens. Reflex takes over and I press the shutter button. And just remember, you saw it here first! Documented proof that squirrels like fruit. You all remember now that tomatoes are a fruit and not a vegetable. I am glad that I am a safe distance away and there is no way that I am tempted to fight this little warrior for the fruit of my wife’s labor. (oh that sentence is just chock-full of metaphors). I have it from someone who has firsthand experience with the viciousness of these creatures. So, the devil in me decides that this is really my wife’s problem and my primary concern should be to replenish my refreshments.

PS: please note how the reflections on the tomato match the reflections in the eye. That took weeks of planning and was quite difficult to visualize while the tomato was ripening. And you guys think I don’t plan my shots …

Devil In Me – Gin Wigmore

 

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