View allAll Photos Tagged Tangible
Bridges are the most tangible and often awesome image of connection, like the synapses in the brain. It is where, through enormous collective effort and abundant ingenuity a gap is overcome and people, goods and ideas start flowing. A triumph of the city!
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A composite image.
Although not the most valuable object that I own, this is one of my most precious pieces. This is my Great Grandmother’s small Anglo-Indian jewellery box, which she brought back from India after she and my Grandfather finished a period in the diplomatic corps during the Raj just before the Great War. It is precious to me because it holds some of the most tangible memories I have of my Great Grandmother and my Grandmother. This sat on my Great Grandmother’s dressing table and housed some of her everyday jewellery. I remember visiting her and watching her take out her pearls and cameos and glittering rings when she was getting ready to receive visitors or to go out. Even when I hold it now or hear the rich sounds of the box lid as it closes, in my mind I can still smell her violet and lily of the valley perfumes and her cold cream. When she died, my Grandmother inherited it and it sat on her dressing table. When I hold it, I can hear her laugh as I played with the pearl necklaces, earrings and rings that she kept in there, including the Regency ebony and ivory earrings I called “Flora” and “Fauna”. The yellowing of the ivory is a sign of its advanced age, and its edges have been worn by many hands touching them over the last century: not least of all mine.
The theme for Smile on Saturday for the 15th of May is “full of memories”. The challenge was to search for something that brings back a certain memory, take a picture of it and share what memories it brings back for you. I have inherited so many items from my Grandparent’s estates that hold great sentimental value for me. The hard part for me about this challenge, was choosing one object out of the many. As I have used my Grandfather’s chess set several times before for other challenges in this group, I settled upon this beloved little jewellery box, which is full of memories.
The jewellery box itself is an Anglo-Indian (Indian made but designed for the British market who lived in India during the Raj) made in the 1890s. It is fashioned from ebony and rosewood with the most exquisite hand-made geometric marquetry inlay of ivory and mother of pearl. The detail photos show how intricate the geometric pattern is, and how perfectly each piece is fitted. This might impress you even more when you think that the box itself is ten and a half centimetres long, by six and half centimetres wide and four and a half centimetres deep. The ebony frames to the hexagons on the lid are one millimetre thick, the vertical rosewood bands on the ivory edge of the lid are half a millimetre in width, the smallest triangles on the sides each have sides of one millimetre in length and the triangles around the flowers on the lid have sides less than half a millimetre in length: and all of this was made with precision by hand by a master artisan more than a century ago.
I’ve decided to write something of a memoir about this whole here 365 thing I‘ve embarked on all those many months ago. A keep sake I suppose. Something tangible, to look back over a few or perhaps even many years down the road, once this project has drawn to a close. Ah hell, why don’t we just call it a souvenir.
In a few months this project will draw to it’s decisive close, and I will bid fare well to it like a setting sun. Somewhat contested, and somewhat relieved , all in a mixed amalgamation of “what’s next” I’m sure. For that last ten months my camera has become an extension of my body. I’ve literally gone nowhere without it. A quick trip to the corner shop, each day in the work place, a trip down uncharted roads. Everywhere I was. The camera was in hand. It’s even earned me a nick name over at the truck stop now. "The camera guy".
I can’t help but wonder if I will experience a small degree of post partum depression once this has ended. A few nights ago I did not even want to look at my camera. I was to tired. I’d been exhausted most of the week, and had taken more then just a small shovels worth of bull headed gumption to find that little stash of motivation I keep hidden away, to finish the day. I just wanted to find a nice place to crawl up into and decay. And eventually I did. But not before taking a picture.
It in away has become something of a very deeply rooted love hate triangular relationship, the camera, the project and I. A journey of uncharted territory for me. Sometimes fun, sometimes fascinating, sometimes educational. And sometimes. Sometimes down right frustrating. This week I’m leaning towards frustrating. But in the end…I’m feeling just a small hint of regret that it is finally reaching near it’s zenith.
If nothing else. Once my not so small work of self gratification is complete I can not only say that I’d been there and done that….I can also say that I’d written a book about it too.
And as for the title. It is derived from one of my all time favorite quotes. The final words of Pancho Villa himself.
“Don’t let it end this way. Tell them I said something.”
Monday, February 2nd. 2009
Warszawa, Poland
Autumn
NIKON FM2 and Washi 500
"We Have Never Met" project puts myself and another photographer together from anywhere in the world as we shoot one roll of the same film together...kind of....at a distance anyway. And then combining the effort into a tangible photowalk of sorts."
This time it is with my friend Erik Mathy from San Francisco. The entire series will be on Behance soon.
This is Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre, Italy. This is the first village of five in a little cluster on the west coast of Italy. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I had never been in a place like this. The water (the Mediterranean) was so blue it looked like someone had dumped a whole vat of blue koolaid in it. And it shimmered constantly. The houses were nestled into the hillside like they'd always been there. They were lovely bright colors and looked like jewels sparkling in the incredibly bright Mediterranean sun. I wish pictures could do it justice.
Since autumn 2008, the "Yellow Fog" installation by Danish artist Olafur Eliasson can be seen on the facade of VERBUND’s "Am Hof" headquarters in Vienna. Every evening, as dusk falls, the facade of VERBUND’s headquarters is plunged into yellow fog, transforming the square and the building into a stage of fog, light and wind. Eliasson views the fog as a tool with which to turn spatial connections and distances into a tangible experience. He chose the colour yellow because of its particularly good visibility in the dark. Yellow fog thematises the transition from day into night and subtly draws the observer’s attention to the changes in the pace of the day...
...taken by the "Yellow Fog" installation by Olafur Eliasson on the facade of Verbund's headquarters...
Vienna, Austria...
Car resale on the hills surronding Torino. A day with clear light and fine air, for a moment silence become tangible and tangible.
This one goes to Penny
for the Resurrection of The Tangible Project group.
www.flickr.com/groups/thetangibleproject/
Join us!!!
We have never understood why men mount the heads of animals and hang them up to look down on their conquerors. Possibly it feels good to these men to be superior to animals, but it does seem that if they were sure of it they would not have to prove it. Often a man who is afraid must constantly demonstrate his courage and, in the case of the hunter, must keep a tangible record of his courage. For ourselves, we have had mounted in a small hardwood plaque one perfect borrego [bighorn sheep] dropping. And where another man can say, "There was an animal, but because I am greater than he, he is dead and I am alive, and there is his head to prove it," we can say, "There was an animal, and for all we know there still is and here is proof of it. He was very healthy when we last heard of him.
John Steinbeck
The Alaska Railroad's Glacier Discovery train from Whittier works north headed back to Anchorage after passing the Girdwood Passenger station. Moments earlier a rainbow filled the Girdwood Valley but now dark storm clouds are shrouding the Chugach Mountains as the train finds a bit of sun to cast it's reflection in the saline ponds that have pickled the stand of dead trees seen behind the train. These trees comprise a "ghost foreat" that are a legacy from the terrible Good Friday 1964 earthquake that dropped the land here several feet all those decades ago. When the land dropped the forest floor ended up below the water table allowing the salt water from Turnagain Arm to permeate the soil. As the roots of the trees drew in the water it slowly killed them, but also served to preserve them and prevent rot allowing for this tangible reminder to remain after so many decades.
This is one of the best "storm light" images I've ever shot and to this day it remains my all time most popular image in Railpictures.net an is in fact the 69th most popular of of over 675 thousand images there! Weird I know...popularity is a subjective thing and doesn't always make sense.
Girdwood, Alaska
Sunday July 27, 2008
Embedded within a dramatic landscape at the meeting point between the Peruvian Andes and the Amazon Basin, the Historic Sanctuary of Machu Picchu is among the greatest artistic, architectural and land use achievements anywhere and the most significant tangible legacy of the Inca civilization. Recognized for outstanding cultural and natural values, the mixed World Heritage property covers 32,592 hectares of mountain slopes, peaks and valleys surrounding its heart, the spectacular archaeological monument of “La Ciudadela” (the Citadel) at more than 2,400 meters above sea level. Built in the fifteenth century Machu Picchu was abandoned when the Inca Empire was conquered by the Spaniards in the sixteenth century. It was not until 1911 that the archaeological complex was made known to the outside world. whc.unesco.org/en/list/274
Puedes conocer más sobre Perú entrando a mi álbum Peruvian Marvels
I am moving this to the front of the line because history does repeat itself.
the fires that were burning in the fall in NorCal have been stopped.
SoCal is taking a beating now. the winds reached 100mph.
nothing's changed.
s.
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this photo and the comments below were posted on November 23, 2007.
nothing has changed except you can add Northern California to this.
the winds in SoCal have reached 80mph.
11/23/07
I was watching Malibu burn live on tv today ("news at 11"), horrified at the incredible destructive visual beauty of wildfires. Interested also because my son had to fight in the last SoCal fires and, finally, I was relieved when I heard that he didn't have to go down this time. Watching the fires "live" is like watching the war "live". I don't want to get desensitized to destruction, so I was ruminating over what "stuff" I would take if I had to choose. I realized that the material textures of my life are things that are worth nothing monetarily.....gifts from loved ones, pieces from family members long passed, things i picked up here and there, all "stuff" I couldn't choose over the practical---my computer HD and photo albums and "important" documents. The things left behind all would be irreplaceable....the silly pieces of paper and plaster and pottery and dried vegetation.
This is what must hurt most for people who lose homes--the concrete evidence of memories.
I will hope for better times when we can fight fires, and earthquakes, and tornadoes and not wars and where people will never lose the tangible evidence, the "silly" things that mark that we were here.
My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Southern California this fire season.
While walking along the Thames in London, I saw some steps descending to the foreshore, and found this interesting place, with the remains of old wooden piers, right opposite Shakespeare's Globe theatre. The woman in the picture was walking along looking closely at the ground and we got talking. "Are you a mud lark?" She asked me.
I was thrilled! - I knew that mudlarking was an old Victorian pursuit, in which people (usually poor) searched along the Thames shore looking for things of value washed up that they could sell. The tradition continues to this day, though more in search of old curiousities rather than things of monetary value. The woman showed me some of her "treasure", amongst which was a tiny little bone dice - it was definitely old, maybe it had been used in Shakespeare's time!. The whole shore was scattered with thousands of stems from old clay pipes (maybe they were old, maybe not), and it felt such a tangible connection with London's rich history, and a sharp contrast with the hyper-modern Shard building looming in the background.
I love trees, I love vines... I really really love trees covered in vines ;-)
this tree is actually on the edge of a main road, on the way to my son's school. I've been past that tree, on and off, for the last few years but it's not till i've started looking at things in a more creative light, that i've seen it.... really seen it. thankyou photography!!!
shot for The Tangible Project
this one goes to mr. pablowish
come join us for some polaroid exchange fun!
CPKC train 40B, the 'Final Spike' steam tour, is seen approaching Ludlow, MO on former Milwaukee Road trackage on the afternoon of May 11, 2024. The train is easing through a maintenance zone where quite a bit of track work is taking place.
When CP and KCS first announced their intent to merge in 2021, I would not have guessed the revival of CP's dormant steam program would be one of the first tangible results of the union, but here we are, as the 2816 and its entourage journey from Calgary to Mexico City to commemorate the first anniversary of the creation of CPKC.
My personal favourite, finally I got it in the right tone for printing. The original, 'Nihiland' was too blue.
I picked it up today from the framers. It looks great printed, in white carton and framed in a plain black frame. It got my heart pumping to see the photo prepared, signed and ready for the wall. It makes what I am doing more tangible.
I tested it in two places in the house. Still not sure where it should go. I'll show you how it looks. Just for the fun of it.
Lay down your thoughts for a moment and breathe.
(+2 in comments)
I can't remember the last time I got a real letter in the mail. For the past couple years it's all been college adds and the like spamming my dusty mailbox. But today, I received the most wonderful letter. There's something about ink on a page, the musty smell of paper having traveled over seas. Something tangible and honest.
My new favorite thing is walking to the post office.
Excerpt from www.artefacts.ca/:
In the beginning, the virtual demolition of nine houses, first fodder for the bulldozer, than waste at a dump, lead directly to the formation, in 1986, of Artefacts Architectural Antiques. Since then, Artefacts has become an indispensable resource for people interested in restoring, renovating and just plain fixing up their buildings. As interest in architectural history has grown, so has Artefacts’ desire to renovate our country’s built heritage. A sub-conscious need for tangible remnants of our past, apart from nostalgia, also fuels Artefacts’s drive to salvage and rebuild using antique architectural pieces.
In this respect, our clientele has changed with us, broadening the scope of what can be done with our “fragments”. To better serve our imaginative clientele, Artefacts has expanded the selection of stock entering the shop. Thus, traditional items such as doors, complete front entrances, fireplace mantels, stair components, cast iron floor grates and door hardware of brass and iron have been augmented by decorative columns, cornice brackets, ornate fireplace tiles, tin ceiling, iron fencing, carved stonework, terra cotta plus an assortment of ornamental cast and wrought iron gates and window grills.
After 18 years in downtown St. Jacobs, Artefacts moved to a larger facility a few blocks away on the edge of town. With more natural light, more room and better parking, a new era was begun. The larger building also allowed Artefacts to combine the showroom with the cabinetry and finishing studios where our pieces are transformed into new uses.
Over 9,000 square feet provides an atmosphere to view our stock in the rough or re-interpreted as functional art pieces in our showroom.
Recent projects include an island kitchen constructed of 1830 pine wainscoting from Grafton, Ontario, an entertainment unit built around a pair of shutters (1835) from Pennsylvania, and a headboard shaped using a wrought iron grill from a basement window in Baltimore, MD (c1865). On a grander scale, Artefacts supplied the details for the CP Hotel restaurant in Whistler, BC.
Bristlecone Pine Trees are the world oldest living things.They go back to more than 5.000 years.I consider being blessed to have visit this National Park,which is located in the State of California (USA). Among all the places, that I have visited The Bristlecone Pine National Park was the best. You have to see up close, to take in all its beauty. These trees express many tangible and intangible. I can name a few intangible, longevity, beauty, endurance and struggle and many others. You can check my photostream and you would find quite a few bristlecone scenes. I hope that you will see the beauty in these old trees, as I did.
(Destin Sparks)
Richard photographing on the National Tourist Route Aurlandsfjellet last year.
Tomorrow we'll go on a new photography road trip in Hardanger and Sogn og Fjordane. Look forward to see those beautiful places covered in autumn colours ツ
My album of photographers in action here.
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Flambeau--A burning torch, especially one carried in procession. This was shot from a temple procession, in which the devotees carry the flambeau right in front of the procession followed by ornamented elephants carrying the God or Goddess.
"Things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life”
~Rainer Maria Rilke
Fresh snow in the Santa Catalina mountains near Tucson. I had a great time shooting and appreciating this wonderful and somewhat rare snow on New Year's Day. My first time in the desert with snow. Breathtaking only begins to describe how beautiful it was.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJrrIIqVygg
pic for The Tangible Project, theme "Ghosts of the past":
www.flickr.com/groups/thetangibleproject/discuss/72157625...
this will go to: www.flickr.com/photos/kristinrandall/
I am guilty of failing to print out many of my photos. I find all the choices of what to print and how to print them a bit overwhelming I'm afraid. I do often print out some pictures at home to make cards with and this usually involves printing the same photo a few times to get it just right. I get to keep the extras:)
This photo was taken at night under a table lamp with the 50mm lens. I used Kim's lightroom preset summersun on it after auto tune and liked the results.
Basilique Notre-Dame de l'Assomption Neuchatel
communément appelée église rouge1, est un lieu de culte catholique construit entre 1897 et 1906. L’architecture de cet édifice de grandes dimensions ne sacrifie pas à l’unité stylistique prisée au XIXe siècle, mais juxtapose habilement les références néo-médiévales et les solutions constructives résolument contemporaines. L’érection de cette église revêt aussi un aspect symbolique, marquant de façon tangible l’essor et l’acceptation du catholicisme à Neuchâtel à la fin du XIXe siècle.
Basilica of Our Lady of the Assumption Neuchatel
commonly known as the Red Church1 , is a Catholic place of worship built between 1897 and 1906. The architecture of this large building does not sacrifice the stylistic unity favoured in the 19th century, but skilfully juxtaposes neo-medieval references and resolutely contemporary constructional solutions. The erection of this church also has a symbolic aspect, marking in a tangible way the rise and acceptance of Catholicism in Neuchâtel at the end of the 19th century.
This small church on the Onuku Maori reserve near Akaroa is the only tangible reminder of the once thriving Maori community. Completed in 1878 the church was planned to accommodate sixty people and though primarily for the Maori local, Pakeha settlers were also welcome.
A plain timber building with steeply pitched shingle roof its religious purpose is denoted by the tiny bell turret and surmounting crosses. It is picturesquely set in the bay on Akaroa Harbour and is enclosed by a delightfully unregimented picket fence. (heritage.org.nz)
She walks between shadows and light, an evanescent silhouette in a dissolving world. Her gaze is concealed behind dark glasses, but one can sense a wandering thought, absorbed in an elsewhere that remains imperceptible to us. Each step seems to hover between past and future, between memory and promise.
The draped dress clings to her body like a relic of an ancient elegance, a fluidity that merges with the misty atmosphere of the road. Behind her, the contours of the world fade, swallowed by an indistinct blur, as if the very path hesitated to exist.
The image breathes voluntary solitude, a chosen exile in a deserted urban space. She carries her mystery like an armor, a living enigma slipping away, elusive, ephemeral. Perhaps she is a messenger of time, or a wandering spirit, always seeking, never anchored.
In black and white, time stretches, contrasts sculpt an alternative reality, an interstice between the tangible and the imaginary. She is not merely walking down a street, but through a memory, a dream, or perhaps a parallel universe that exists only in the instant of this image.
Are the things that are not....
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"My brain played tag with the unconscious
and one day they finally collided.
I realized reality was actually only tangible,
and the only thing that was real....
were the things that were not.
I had to be convinced the story was in fact fictional,
so in return I could realize I was the one that wrote it.
Time is only moving forward because of the thoughts that drive it.
I hear the hours of time like you hear the music on the radio.
I hear god and myself in the music because I became aware of my existance.
I became aware because of the conversations I had with myself when my eyes divided dimensions.
I see because I always have,
I hear because I can relate with the stories being told."
-Allison Malachowski (mycoronaborealis.tumblr.com/)
By Erik. Paisley, Oregon seems like the type of town that would be fun to walk up and down every street because of stuff like this.
North Pond, Lincoln Park, Chicago
This maybe my favorite shot at Lincoln Park and there is no post processing! It really needs to be viewed large.
This is a candid snapshot but somehow it seems to possess all the unconventional tangible and intangible photographic and non-photographic attributes, in my mind: natural framing, unruly composition yet balanced, messy branches and leaves but so attractive, natural lighting, atmosphere, humanity, landscape, in focus and blur, near and far, detail and softness, and a subject matter that's eternal: love and companionship. Of course, it lacks color and contrast, but these are non-essential elements. I tried boosting saturation and contrast, but that only destroyed the "air" and took the life out of this picture.
Came to realize more and more that photography is first and foremost about seeing. And my new favorite aperture: f/5 :)
I've been split into two identical beings. One tangible but trapped in the past. The other intangible, in the "present", but unaware of my continued fight against alien invasion.
I have until October 31, 1929, to discover the loophole that the invaders from 1,000 years in the future, may have slipped past the heroic android Trent on October 17, 1964.
Although he saved the physical being of humanity imprinted into his hand, it may be a humanity that the invaders have parasitically merged itself to in 1929, unbeknownst to Trent or his creators.
The process that has split me into two selves, has rid me of the contamination, here in 1929.
I hope I have arrived before the Merger. I'll do everything possible to stop this part of the invasion.
If I succeed, then Trent and Humanity live on, and my two selves re-integrated, remembering both timelines.
If I fail...if I...fail...