View allAll Photos Tagged Slips
Moon slips into a somewhat revealing purple dress.
Pro Model and MUA: Xlcr Moon MM #536498
Phtographer: Bill Tricomi - Doum Tek Photography
Aug 5, 2015
They came for the day. The brochure promised fantastic views - but not all bird watching involves seagulls.
For information regarding the Chicago House Wrecking Company and the world's fair toilets that the company sold, see Bargain Water Closets from the St. Louis World's Fair (1904): Front Washout Closets (below).
Bargain Water Closets from the World's Fair
No. W.F. 108. 500 of these Hopper Closets. Just the thing for bathrooms that are not heated--as they won't burst. Outfit consists of porcelain hopper bowl, top supply tank complete with best flushing devices, strong seat to fasten to the wall. N.P. flush pipe and elbow coupling, floor screws, chain and pull, brackets, etc. Special price while they last, $8.00.
Chicago House Wrecking Co., 35th and Iron Sts., Chicago. (Over).
David Eagleman’s home in Los Altos is bathed in golden light, the kind that slips through old Spanish-style windows and rests quietly on books, instruments, and carefully placed artifacts. When I arrived to photograph him in May 2024, I was struck not just by the beauty of the place, but by how completely it reflected its owner: timeless, thoughtful, slightly otherworldly. Eagleman himself greeted me with the open, effortless warmth of someone deeply at ease in both solitude and conversation. Our dialogue—ranging from neuroscience to the afterlife to deep time—felt like stepping into one of his books.
It’s not easy to describe what David Eagleman does without veering into overstatement. Neuroscientist, author, entrepreneur, futurist—he wears each role with fluency, but none capture the full scope of his curiosity. He’s one of those rare thinkers who seems to wake up every morning with the question: What else is possible? And then he goes out and builds a bridge toward it.
Eagleman’s scientific work centers on how the brain constructs reality, perceives time, and adapts through plasticity. He’s best known for exploring the ways we can extend human sensory experience, including through devices that translate sound into touch for the deaf, or enable new senses altogether—technology he’s helped develop through his company Neosensory. For Eagleman, the brain is not fixed, but liveware—a system continuously rewiring itself in response to the world.
But it’s not just science he traffics in. Eagleman is also a gifted storyteller. His 2009 book SUM: Forty Tales from the Afterlives is a slim volume that has quietly become a cult classic—a blend of science, fiction, and philosophy that reimagines death in forty radically different, often heartbreaking, often hilarious ways. One line stayed with me long after our conversation ended:
“Since we live in the heads of those who remember us, we lose control of our lives and become who they want us to be.”
That idea—of identity as a shifting echo in the minds of others—captures so much of what Eagleman wrestles with in his work. Memory, perception, selfhood—they are not constants, but stories under revision. In neuroscience, this has profound implications. In life, it’s poetry.
Eagleman has also become something of a public intellectual, though he might bristle at the term. He’s hosted PBS series, spoken at TED, and written bestsellers like Incognito and Livewired, always walking that delicate line between depth and accessibility. His lectures often leave audiences blinking, as if they’ve just been shown the wiring under the floorboards of their own consciousness.
He is also a thinker drawn to deep time. His affiliation with the Long Now Foundation—a group devoted to fostering long-term thinking—reflects his enduring fascination with what lasts. It’s easy to imagine Eagleman as a kind of cognitive archaeologist, brushing the dust off ancient circuits in the brain, while also designing blueprints for minds that don’t yet exist.
During our session, he moved between quiet intensity and bursts of boyish enthusiasm. He talked about synesthesia, the challenge of writing fiction after years of scientific precision, and the ways the brain compresses and expands time depending on context. At one point, we paused over coffee to watch a hummingbird hover just outside the window and mused that their sense of time must be wildly different from ours.
There’s something deeply human in Eagleman’s approach to science. For all the technology, the brain scans, the AI models, his work circles back again and again to what it means to be alive, and what it might mean to keep evolving.
He once wrote, “There is no afterlife that we know of, but we are living in many others’ minds, and that’s a form of immortality.” Standing in his home, camera in hand, I realized that this too is part of the project—to capture the flicker of a mind at work, to preserve a moment that might one day become memory, then myth.
Extra LUXURIOUS, Slippery Double Layers of Nylon that gives you that sensuous feel of wearing multiple slips at once! :)
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it all slips by so fast but i don’t know if i should be trying to take photos or not. i forgot to take photos of ten million beautiful moments recently. a lot of really cool graffiti that i forgot to take pictures of too. when i die one day i hope that i get to see a lot of the stuff that i saw when i was alive again. but i don’t know if pictures can really capture what’s so beautiful about real life. so, what’s the point anyway? a lot of my favorite photos to see are just personal documents. i guess pain is not usually the intention of a photo but sometimes it’s like that’s all i got. the can be so painful it’s almost like they’re dangerous or sharp and you get scared of them and maybe even avoid looking at them. maybe you want them to go away forever so they cant hurt you. but then you realize it’s ok because you can look at the past and cherish or laugh or cry but never hold on too hard or judge unfairly or run away. i think im gonna start taking pictures again. i got a roll of film to develop (but i lost three precious undeveloped rolls and two cameras. so maybe that’s why i’ve been so discouraged about the whole idea of this shit) and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t a little scared to see what’s on there. i won’t make all those private photos public but some of them might have graffiti on them and they might make you or me laugh. a photo of graffiti has yet to make me cry but i could see that happening soon. ok sorry now i’m don’t with this egotistical rant, i’m sorry if you’re reading this and ur like damn i just wasted my precious time reading this nonsense on flickr. but you should be questioning why you’re even looking at my shit really or anything so good on ya. but anywho, i need to go to bed so i can go to my new job making sandwiches tomorrow, and it’s gonna be -9 Fahrenheit. ima try to take a selfie in the kitchen tomorrow. my last photo uploaded on flickr will be a screenshot of a pdf of an essay on my real feelings about all of you , human history, and my predictions for all of our lives.
An unidentified Class 47 slips across the King Edward Bridge over the River Tyne working the 11:25 Newcastle to Liverpool service on 12th July 1984. In the foreground the spans of the old Redheugh Bridge are being dismantled for scrap whilst behind the foundations are still in-situ and a Northern Leyland Atlantean crosses the new Redheugh Bridge as it heads towards the Gateshead area.
Scan from a 35mm negative on Agfapan 100 film.
They came for the day. The brochure promised fantastic views - but not all bird watching involves seagulls.
I had no idea what to wear today when I saw one of my new vintage slips. I thought they do look like dresses and then tried layering them. Turns out it looks really cute and not at all see through.
Headband: Self Made
Purple Slip: Oonas
Black Slip: Vintage Remix
Shoes: Isaac Mizrahi Thrifted
A Lothian bus slips through a tangle of winter pedestrians at Lauriston Place, its destination to Hunters Tryst half-hidden behind blurred silhouettes and drifting scarves. The Quartermile turrets rise behind them, and Arthur’s Seat fades softly into the pale December sky.
It’s the kind of cold, dry Edinburgh day where people walk briskly, headphones on and hands tucked away, each carrying their own quiet urgency. The scene feels real but refined, a fleeting crossroads moment where movement, architecture, and anonymity meet in a single frame.
Processed in colour with minimal editing, the image leans on natural light and genuine street rhythm, letting the city’s winter pulse tell the story.
Is it safe to assume a lot of you sissys out there also loved wearing your mothers slips? So feminine, soft and lacy!
I feel so soft, weak feminine with a full slip over my lingerie.
Station exit signal in front of two double slips in Bangkok Hua Lamphong station. In the background, a UM12C is shunting passenger equipment in the coach yard.
Found on www.wishbookweb.com/
Research into the 1950's to discover what styles and colors are popular.
Alabama Southern’s Reform, AL/Artesia, MS Turn slips through the small forgotten settlement of McCrary, MS. Though nothing spectacular location wise, the location is one of serious sentiment for the photographer as the line runs a few yards across from where my sister and brother in law once lived. I spent many an adolescent evening, night or pre dawn morning on their wrap around porch swatting off mosquitoes and admiring darting fireflies that helped kill time while patiently waiting to watch old a string of MidSouth GP10’s leading a train rumbling up the line with their 567C’s roaring wide open, puking oil and exhaust smoke skywards as they swayed side to side with unlatched hood doors lazily swinging open and closed as they trundled down the ill maintained track. It was almost as similar as seeing an older relative walking down the pitch black hallway to the bathroom in the middle of the night hearing their creaks and groans.
30 years later things are bit different yet still the same. The track is in better shape, the little house track siding that once held defective cars en route piquing further interest laid off to the right of the mainline is long gone. The larger power that handles the same old slow trains comes in a different dress. The slight elevated curve seems a bit out of place if not comical considering the slow speeds. Of note is that I was standing dead square on the Mississippi/Alabama state line while capturing this image. By the time I’d drop my camera after taking this shot the lead unit would be a mere couple of seconds into Alabama.
Moon slips into a somewhat revealing purple dress.
Pro Model and MUA: Xlcr Moon MM #536498
Phtographer: Bill Tricomi - Doum Tek Photography
Aug 5, 2015
Designer: The Original Franco-American store JC Penny! (dress), Prada (shoes)
Store: Etsy (The Internet!), INA (NYC)
Music: Lover Man, Etta James
Roof
Have you already noticed that St. Stephen's Cathedral is never completely snowed?
Why this is so reveals the roof construction:
A masterpiece of technology made of 605 tons of steel, which replaced the miracle work of Gothic carpentry of 2000 cubic meters of larch wood after the catastrophic fire in 1945 - this corresponds to the amount of wood in a forest the size of the district of Josefstadt (8th district of Vienna).
Today's roof is 110m long and 37.85m high, 230,000 colorfully glazed bricks determine the uniqueness of the cathedral roof.
It is almost inconceivable that the sloping roof at the steepest points has an angle of 80 °.
A practical consideration lies behind it: due to the high discharge speed of the rainwater, the roof is self-cleaning - and so also the snow slips off before it can cover up the colorful splendor of the roof.
Dach
Ist Ihnen schon aufgefallen, dass der Stephansdom niemals völlig zugeschneit ist?
Warum dies so ist, verrät die Dachkonstruktion:
Eine Meisterleistung der Technik aus 605t Stahl, die nach der Brandkatastrophe 1945 das Wunderwerk gotischer Zimmermannskunst aus 2000m3 Lärchenholz -- dies entspricht der Holzmenge eines Waldes in der Größe des Bezirks Josefstadt -- ersetzte.
Das heutige Dach ist 110m lang und 37,85m hoch, 230.000 bunt glasierte Ziegel bestimmen die Einmaligkeit des Domdaches.
Fast unvorstellbar ist es, dass die Dachschräge an den steilsten Stellen einen Winkel von 80° aufweist.
Eine praktische Überlegung steckt dahinter: Durch die große Abfließgeschwindigkeit des Regenwassers kommt es zu einer Selbstreinigung des Daches -- und so rutscht auch der Schnee ab, bevor er die Farbenpracht des Daches verhüllen kann.
Is it safe to assume a lot of you sissys out there also loved wearing your mothers slips? So feminine, soft and lacy!
I feel so soft, weak feminine with a full slip over my lingerie.
The Kelvedon Hatch Secret Nuclear Bunker is a former government-owned nuclear bunker in Brentwood, Essex.
The bunker was maintained during the cold war as a potential regional government headquarters, built in 1952 - 1953 as part of ROTOR. ROTOR was a programme to improve and harden Britain's air defence network.
The bunker was a hardened Sector Operations Centre (SOC) for RAF Fighter Command. It was to provide command and control of the London Sector of Fighter Command. During the 1960's, 1970's, 1980's and early into the 1990's, the Home Office maintained the bunker as an emergency regional government defence site. Eventually in the early 1990s when nuclear threat was seen as diminished, the bunker was sold back to the family who had owned the land in the 1950s.
Inspiration for some of the framing of the shots came from the 1975 New Topographics exhibition.