Leptinotarsa juncta - a bunch of false potato beetle larvae gathering under a single leaf . . . who knows what devious plots are being bumped around inside those huge brain butts, I for one feared for my very life when I came across this insect MENSA gathering . . . it made me cringe almost uncontrollably ! Lucky I was professional enough to manage this capture for everyone, enjoy!

I’m currently doing a personal study on lighting and how different translations of it can affect portraiture. I hope that this series of images does my studying justice.

 

I wanted to create this image as a representation of the grasps of all the struggles in life over-coming an individual. When things happen that are completely uncontrollable, the feeling is sometimes described similar to drowning or suffocating.

 

When situations such as this approach us, there are two possible outcomes. Some take the adversity, endure it and give up. They make no attempt to lift the burden off of them. Others grasp and reach and fight with every bit of strength that they have left and they just might break through the barrier.

We were at a very strange school. It wasn't familiar to us at all. But we didn't notice. We just kept talking about things I can't remember. It was just us. A group of boys and girls at a table in a place I didn't know.Oddly, In that moment music began to play. It was a song of worship. All the boys stopped what they were doing. They dropped everything in that second. I didn't understand the looks on their faces. They just started sobbing, crying out for their creator. Curled in balls under the table. We rubbed their backs to try an console them, to do something to calm them down. Then the teachers started to yell at them. They were telling them to stop it. But they wouldn't. They couldn't. It was uncontrollable.

 

listen

 

Count Alfonso de Bourbon

 

Some of you know that Count Alfonso, was my favorite local. And, that I felt sick with grief when he was accidentally crushed to death around 6 p.m. on Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2012.

 

Alfonso was dumpster diving behind Jonathon’s, the finest market in town, when the driver of an 18-wheeler backed up too far and hit two dumpsters that pinned Alfonso against the loading dock. It wasn’t until 7 a.m. the next morning that he was found slumped forward facing the other direction.

 

It was Loren Nancarrow, the anchor on Channel 5 who broke the news. “No! Tell me it isn’t true! Tell me it isn’t true!” I cried out first to Loren, and then to my husband, as I jumped up off the floor. Just that day I had gone in search of Alfonso.

 

Alfonso and I lived in the same neighborhood for 25 years. I met him on the street where we became fast friends. I felt privileged to be a part of his life. I thought he was a treasure; always available for a chat in the afternoon sun, always friendly and always willing to help me learn.

 

I may have been the only woman who Alfonso didn’t chase, but that may have been because I chased him. If Alfonso ever complimented me, I didn’t hear it. And, he never offered to carry my bags; it was I who carried his. I felt honored.

 

When Alfonso spoke to me, he made me feel like I was the only person on the planet. He really connected. When I was with him he gave 100 percent.

 

He was a pure and simple joy. I’ve never heard Alfonso complain about anything – ever. He felt grateful for every day, he was always happy and in a good mood. When I saw him sitting on the bench on Girard Avenue, I always asked him how he was. Alfonso always said the same thing, and he said it with emphasis, facing up toward the sun with his eyes closed. “Thank God that I can enjoy another day!”

 

Being kind and giving was central to Alfonso’s life. Whenever I did something nice for him, he always did something nice for me. And, when he gave me gifts, he always gave me a choice.

 

One day he called me on the telephone and asked me to come over as he had a gift for me. He wanted to repay a favor. I knew the code to enter his building was 008. Alfonso only had to tell me once. In his slow, deliberate professorial manner and looking straight at me he said, “Think James Bond.”

 

I was glad that Alfonso had invited me over. I was curious to see how he lived — and I was not disappointed. I was desperate to take photos, one can see so much more in a photograph than in real life, but I didn’t. I don’t know why because Alfonso seemed oblivious to the excitement I felt when I saw his piles of stuff stacked up high in his living room.

 

I sent Alfonso a card and a gift certificate from Girard Gourmet on his birthday, October 22. Two days later, I received a card from him; this is what he wrote, “Dear Juliana, Thank you so much for your kindness and thoughtfulness on my birthday. There should be more people like you in this topsy-turvy world! Love, Alfonso.” The card he sent was from the Children’s Art Project – Making life better for children with cancer.

 

I once wrote Alfonso a card I ended with, “You’re my favorite local.” Two days later, I received a letter from him, written with stationery that had a fleur-de-lis stamped in the upper left corner, and a newspaper clipping. The La Jolla Light was having a photo contest. Alfonso thanked me for taking photos of him at the car show and he gave me permission to submit one photo in particular for publication. I laughed out loud when I read the last line. Alfonso wrote, “I hope this brings you some publicity.”

 

In the envelope, Alfonso included a copy of a letter he received from The Athenaeum. The letter was dated Sept. 1, 2009. Alfonso wanted me to know that someone had made a donation in his honor and that he had a title. The letter, written by Erika Torri, was addressed to Count Alfonso. That is how I came to call my favorite local Count Alfonso.

 

Alfonso never told me any grandiose stories unless it was about an historical event and he never spoke about his state of health except to mention the difficulty that he was having sleeping through the night due to his prostate problems. And, neither of us said a word that morning when, standing in his kitchen, his left hand trembled uncontrollably.

 

He told me about his reverse mortgage and the neighbors he had in days of yore, and what he had for breakfast every morning. When Alfonso mentioned the kind of jam he ate, I went out and bought him three jars of the good stuff from Belgium. He, in return, gifted me with a deliciously wrapped box of stale cupcakes.

 

Alfonso was an adventure and I took every opportunity I had with him to learn. When I told him that I knew (Hitler’s Field Marshall Erwin) Rommel was called the “Desert Fox” and that he had been forced to commit suicide, Alfonso looked at me with surprise and told me I was the most intelligent person he knew, beside himself.

 

John, my father-in-law, was a medic during World War II under the command of General George Patton. He collected war memorabilia that he gave my husband. I knew that Alfonso was interested in everything-WW II, so I invited him over.

 

I placed the items on the table and we studied the coins, medals, badges, and sword up close. He was able to translate something that was written on one of the coins that I did not understand. Before he left, Alfonso kindly asked us to give him the objects if we should decide that we didn’t want them any longer.

 

Although, he spoke only English with me, except to make corrections, I practiced my French and German on Alfonso and I asked him questions. He was the one who taught me how to say “not anymore” in French. Non plus.

 

Once, when Alfonso was sitting at my table, I took the opportunity to ask him how to pronounce Französisch. Alfonso replied by telling me not to make it anymore difficult than it already was.

 

It was only recently that Alfonso found it necessary to correct me when I addressed him in the informal. When he went on to explain the (French language) rules, I laughed and I apologized, in French. I understood the rules and I thanked him. Alfonso was a good teacher.

 

I never could wrap my arms around Alfonso’s project with our sister city of Alcala de Henares that he started in 1982. It wasn’t until after his death that I learned that Alcala, 35 km northeast of Madrid, was conquered by Alfonso VII. And, that it is was the birthplace of Cervantes, the author of “Don Quixote.”

 

I also learned that an historic map Alfonso gifted to UCSD in 2010, in honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, was signed by King Juan Carlos of Spain.

 

Sometimes when I was with Alfonso I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. One afternoon as we were walking along, he stopped a young man and asked him what size shoes he wore. Alfonso asked him if he had an old pair that he could have. In his hand, Alfonso was clutching a newspaper ad for a big sale on shoes. The store was way out near nowhere, and I don’t have a car, so I told Alfonso that the advertising was false, not to be depended upon. He agreed; it was too good to be true.

 

Last Christmas, when I invited Alfonso over for dessert, he demanded that I cook him his favorite meal. I laughed at his forthrightness. But, Alfonso was right, I should have offered to cook for him. I thawed the salmon just in case.

 

Alfonso told me he liked to watch a show on the television in the evenings. Since I don’t watch TV myself, I didn’t ask him what program, but I did make the mistake of calling him once when this program was on. I said to myself, now I know never to do that again. What kind of show would hold such an appeal to Alfonso that he would not want to be disturbed?

 

I didn’t know that Alfonso was a dumpster diver. Just days before his death, my friend Roger told me that he was walking through the alley, behind Jonathan’s when Alfonso beckoned to him. Roger, being young and able, dove into the dumpster to aid Alfonso who was surrounded by bags.

 

Father James Rafferty told us the following story at the memorial for Alfonso, which was held at Mary Star of the Sea. Every week the church offers leftover bread and pastries to the poor. When Fr. Rafferty opened the doors, Alfonso was always the first in line. Fr. Rafferty, who is relatively new to La Jolla, told us he grumbled when Alfonso took more than his share, and when he made a comment, Alfonso said, “Oh no, this is not for me, this is for the homeless.”

 

Despite what I told a reporter for El Mundo, I don’t believe Alfonso interacted with the homeless. I think he hoarded food. As a matter-of-fact, I’m sure he did, as I have a photo of the inside of his fridge. I was so shocked and excited when Alfonso opened the door to offer me cake that I whipped out my little camera before I even asked permission. Alfonso posed proudly. He was pleased that I had arrived just after he trimmed his beard and mustache. I didn’t see it at the time, but he looked dapper.

 

Massachusett’s Mike is the homeless fellow who is usually camped outside our grocery market. We ended up standing together at the same street corner early one morning. I was stunned when I turned to chat with him, as I have never seen him clean and sober. Massachusett’s Mike told me that he knew someone had been crushed to death behind Jonathon’s. He described the scene in detail, but he thought it was another homeless person. He also told me that Alfonso never gave him food — he had his own — and he pointed to the pile of pastries at the bottom of his freshly cleaned and neatly organized shopping cart.

 

Exactly three years before his death, Alfonso asked me to take a photo of the church that held his memorial service, Mary, Star of the Sea. We were standing in front of the church when he made the request, and although I had my camera in my pocket, I told him I was going to wait to shoot as the sun was too bright and it was casting shadows. I went back the next day when the light changed and took the photo. I didn’t remember this until I looked into the priest’s face at the reception.

 

Alfonso’s memorial was held on Friday, Jan. 20, 2012. I was one of the first to arrive and when the priest was placing flowers on the altar, I stepped forward and asked him if it was OK if I took photos. A law professor from Spain had contacted me that morning and asked for information and photos, as he was about to publish an article on Alfonso. The priest said “sure,” and told me that he was going to allow time so people could talk about their personal experiences with Alfonso. I sat down and thought, yeah right, like I’m going to get up and talk in front of everyone. Well, that was exactly what happened, and when the time came, I didn’t hesitate, I ran up to give my first public speech.

 

This is what happened. When everyone who had spoken, including the priest, admitted that they only knew Alfonso in passing, I felt compelled to tell everyone that Alfonso had a friend and that I was his friend. Ken, who was sitting next to me, said that I didn’t run up to the microphone. He said that I hesitated and looked to see if anyone else was going, and then I walked. But, in my mind, I ran and I ran fast.

 

I told everyone that when I went out, I went looking for Alfonso. I told them how grateful Alfonso felt to be alive and I mentioned a thank-you card he sent me. I remember ending with the story that I had given Alfonso half a hug, recently, which made him laugh. The laughter, I said, is how I was going to remember Alfonso.

 

Erika Torri, director of The Athenaeum Music & Arts Library in La Jolla, was right on when she spoke. She said that after interacting with Alfonso, she always left with a smile. Alfonso always made her feel good. She told us a funny story about an interaction she had with him that made everyone laugh out loud. That is how it was with Alfonso, even after he died. Whenever I thought of him, I was either laughing or crying — often at the same time.

 

Reporter Dave Schwab wrote his account of the memorial service in the La Jolla Light. “Everyone in attendance agreed Bourbon was an unforgettable character, an individual so unique in his presentation that you always remembered him thereafter.”

 

Amid all the pain and sorrow, Ken Smith wrote me a comforting message. “Christine has it right. No matter the rest; he will always be a Prince to us. But, you had it most right because you saw the light in Alfonso. Others, too, yes, but you really brought it out in him.”

 

The news of Alfonso’s death spread across Europe and journalists from El Mundo contacted me. Everyone wanted to know information about Alfonso. And the big question on everyone’s mind was whether Alfonso was indeed from royalty like he claimed.

 

Royal Search

When I moved to La Jolla 25 years ago and Alfonso mentioned that his grandfather was King Alfonso XIII of Spain, I scoffed at the idea. But, the news sent me running to my elderly French friend’s house on Genter Street, who, in turn, scoffed at me. She told me that this sort of thing (illegitimacy) happens in Europe all the time. So, I assumed Alfonso was from royalty.

 

I met Heli Hofmann at Alfonso’s memorial service. She wrote, “Three things convinced me from the very beginning in 1981:1) His physical resemblance to Alfonso XIII;2) His enormous language ability;3) His polite manners.”

 

Alfonso told me that he was born in Lausanne, Switzerland and that he worked as an interpreter for the United Nations in New York City. It was only in our last conversation that Alfonso revealed more personal information about himself. That is why I was stunned when, out of the blue; he told me that he was once married, but only for a brief period of time.

 

I’ll never forget the moment. We were sitting on the bench on Girard Avenue facing the sun, when he mentioned this. My head spun around to look at him. Unfortunately, that was all he wanted me to know, but I felt honored, as I’m sure Alfonso never told this to anyone. Now I’m left wondering what else he might have revealed had he kept on living.

 

I never asked Alfonso about his royal past, even when I imported his personal photos of the Royals into my computer. He asked me to put them on a disk for him. He was working on a project and he needed copies.

 

However, my curiosity was piqued and the next time Alfonso came over I Googled photos of the Spanish Royal Family and showed them to him. I was surprised at Alfonso’s reaction; he did not seem at all interested. But, I told him, in error, that the photos he had me scan were already on the computer.

 

In appreciation for my efforts, Alfonso gave me a photocopied image of King Alfonso XIII – Alfonso had signed his name on the back. But, before he gave me the photo, he held it up to his face and asked me if I thought there was a resemblance. Alfonso was pleased when I told him the resemblance was striking.

 

My husband, among many others, thought Alfonso’s story about his past was convincing. Plus, he did look like King Alfonso XIII, don’t you think?

 

If only I had known at the time that the couple Alfonso claimed were his parents, were the eldest son of King Alfonso XIII, Alfonso de Borbón, and his wife Edelmira Sampedro.

 

Later, when I read the interview José María Zavala had with Alfonso in November 2009, I was convinced that Alfonso knew only what the nuns told him and that the information was incorrect. I thought King Alfonso XIII might have been Alfonso’s real father since he was born in the same year as Leandro, 1929. Leandro was one of the many illegitimate children fathered by the “Bastard King.” Plus, I decided that Alfonso didn’t lose his fingers to frostbite like he told me, but he was born with a deformity, which led to his being put up for adoption. Alfonso did make the perfect orphan.

 

Alfonso de Bourbon Case No. 12-104

Trying to get Alfonso’s story has not been easy. After interviewing two medical examiners, the public administrator, San Diego Crematorium, a lawyer, and The Salvation Army, the investigation is still not fully complete.

The medical examiner told me the case was still open. She explained that there were three parts to a report: the investigation, the toxicology report, and the autopsy. She was not able to tell me which one was not yet completed. But, she said these cases take about 90 days and they would notify me via e-mail when all is said and done. I was in their system.

 

When the medical examiner told me that Alfonso was not from royalty, the shock temporarily shook the grief I was feeling, and I smiled. It didn’t matter, prince or pauper, I loved Alfonso and there was nothing anybody could do about that now.

 

Suddenly, I became the town crier and I ran to tell everyone the news. My second stop after Girard Gourmet was The Athenaeum. I arrived at the same time as a deliveryman. We stood together and waited for Erika Torri. When I told her that Alfonso was not from royalty, we were speechless. We just stood there – in shock – staring at each other. Finally, the deliveryman, who overheard our conversation, asked us if we were talking about Alfonso de Bourbon. We both stared at him in disbelief.

 

This is what he told us. There was a man who lived in La Jolla, I can’t remember his name, but he died 10 years ago. This man investigated Alfonso when he first came to town to see if he was indeed the real deal. Then, the deliveryman waved his hand in the air and in a nonchalant manner said, “I’ve known all along that Alfonso was NOT the real deal.” Erika and I were stunned. We couldn’t move.

 

“Don’t feel sorry about breaking the news,” Erika wrote. “For me, Alfonso was always Alfonso, the one who made La Jolla’s atmosphere and aura richer and more exciting. I was never sure if he was related to Royalty or not, and actually, it did not matter. He made more than one day brighter for me and others with his demeanor and flattering compliments.”

 

A freelance reporter from El Mundo called and asked me if I felt conned that Alfonso had misrepresented himself. “No,” I said. “Alfonso had every right to change his name and pretend to be from Spanish royalty. He never meant any harm to anyone, and he added color and mystery to our lives.” But, like Ken Smith wrote, I’m not buying it. It’s Count Alfonso!

 

There were many people who refuse to believe the medical examiner’s story. They simply do not want to believe that Alfonso was not who he claimed to be and that his resemblance to King Alfonso XIII was more than a coincidence.

 

The medical examiner told me that they found a first-cousin in Miami who will work with the public administrator’s office to handle all of Alfonso’s affairs. According to the cousin, they let Alfonso go 50 years ago because of his eccentricity.

 

Leon Shafferman changed his name to Alfonso de Bourbon in 1968. Morris Shafferman, Alfonso’s father, was also an eccentric who changed his name to Patrick Stewart. Alfonso’s kinfolk came from Egypt and he was born in the south of Switzerland.

 

Missy, at San Diego Crematorium, told me that on Feb. 21, 2009 Alfonso prepaid to have himself cremated and his ashes sent adrift at sea. I felt tormented when Missy explained that everything was taking so long because, although Alfonso’s family was notified, they never responded. So, in order for them to move forward, they needed an abandonment release from the medical examiner’s office – signed papers that claimed our Alfonso was abandoned. Alfonso’s body was released on Feb. 17.

 

Alfonso was cremated. Missy was looking at his ashes in a jar on the counter as we spoke. She said that at some point, her boss, the owner, will gather everyone’s ashes and he alone will go out to sea. He’s not licensed to bring along family or friends.

 

I’ve been lamenting the fact that there wasn’t a place I could go and mourn Alfonso’s death, but Missy told me that San Diego Crematorium will provide me with a certificate that will include the date, and coordinates, after her boss sets sail with Alfonso’s ashes.

 

It was during this time that I started reading — not only the recent and numerous letters Alfonso wrote to the editor in topics as wide-ranging as expressing his concern for the victims of war, “advice to would-be condo owners” and a letter in loving memory, but I read about our Alfonso in days of yore.

 

In an article that was written in the New York Times on Jan. 24, 1969, Alfonso bid on the world’s most famous and ancient pearl, La Peregrina. The bidding on the pearl, nicknamed, The Wanderer because it had gotten around so much, started at $10,000. Richard Burton outbid Afonso and bought the pearl for $37,000. It was his birthday present to Elizabeth Taylor who had just turned 37 years old.

 

“An unsuccessful bidder was Prince Alfonso de Bourbon Asturias. In an interview later, he said: ‘I had telephoned-in a bid to $20,000. I didn’t think it was going to reach $37,000. I wanted to make a gift of it to Queen Victoria Eugenia of Spain, in homage to her.’ ”

 

Never mind that all the while Queen Victoria Eugenia claimed to have the “real” pearl tucked away in her possession.

 

I read about our swinging Alfonso and the Gabor Sisters. I know someone who met Alfonso at one of their parties years ago. When she moved to La Jolla she looked up Alfonso and the two became friends.

 

“Magda (Gabor) dated around for awhile, specializing in princely titles. Among her squires were Prince Alfonso de Bourbon and Prince Umberto de Poliolo, both with residual Royal heritage from Spain. The former lived in La Jolla and the latter operated his art emporium, Gallery de Poliolo, in Palm Springs.” — From “Palm Springs Life” by Allene Arthur.

 

And I read about King Alfonso XIII and his eldest son, Alfonso de Borbón and his Cuban wife of four years, Edelmira Sampedro. One article in particular, written by Miami historian Antolín García Carbonell in February 2009, would make a dramatic impact, “Tragic Drama Under the Miami Moon.”

 

My husband and I planned a trip to Florida long before Alfonso died. We were set to leave at the end of January, but due to circumstances we didn’t leave until the end of February. This turned out to be a good thing as Alfonso was in legal limbo and I wanted to know what was going to happen to him.

 

On Feb. 28 we took the red-eye to Miami and landed at sunrise (3:29 a.m. our time). We headed south on the Dixie Highway 953 in our rented Nissan. I suggested we stop for breakfast in Coral Gables, I was curious to see this suburb of Miami.

 

My husband said he was surprised at my behavior when we arrived. He said I became focused and driven. He said it threw him off, as he had no idea that I wanted to go to the cemetery mausoleum and look for Alfonso de Borbón’s crypt. He said that I took us right to the unmarked crypt, straight away, without hesitation.

 

I was just as surprised as my husband. Who knew I had this information and my desire was so strong? I thought we were going to drive straight down to The Keys and enjoy a tropical vacation. We did that, but we also went to three libraries and two cemeteries to research Alfonso’s story.

 

Unlike Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, there were no maps available at Graceland Memorial Park in Coral Gables, so I approached two workers. ”Spanish royalty?” I asked. Shoulders shrugged, so I started to walk away when one of the workers, Guillot, stepped forward. He said he remembered something and took us into the mausoleum.There are two crypts on the left as you enter the mausoleum that don’t bear an inscription, one lies on top of the other. “This is what you’re looking for,” Guilott said, pointing to the bottom crypt. We all stood and stared at the blank cover while he changed his mind. “No,” he said. “It is the one on top of that, I can tell by the color of the marble.” So, we all stared at the one on top. As I stepped forward to take a closer look, I noticed that one of thingamajigs that held the crypt closed was loose. I asked if the crypt could be opened. Guilott flipped out a tool, and much to our surprise, he opened the crypt. Imagine our shock and excitement when we read what was written on the inside of the marble cover:

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALFONSO DE BORBON Y BATTENBERG MAY 10 SEPT 6, 1907 R.I.P 1938

Guiilott was just as excited as we were. He told us that he had worked at this cemetery for the last six years and had heard rumors, but he had never opened the crypt. And, he explained that the bottom crypt bore no inscription because it was used for the cremated remains of those who were abandoned.

 

I’ll let Miami’s historian Antolín García Carbonell tell the story of why the crypt that belongs to the man Alfonso claimed to be his father, Alfonso de Borbón, was empty, since it was his riveting article that brought us there:

“During the 1950s, three of Don Alfonso’s siblings visited his grave during Miami stops while visiting the U.S. and Cuba. Following the 1975 restoration of the Borbón Dynasty in Spain after Francisco Franco’s death, King Juan Carlos, Don Alfonso’s nephew, began making plans to bring back to Spain the bodies of all the Spanish Royals who had died in exile. But before that could happen, the Royal Pantheon at El Escorial, outside Madrid, had to be expanded.

 

King Alfonso XIII’s body was repatriated from Italy in 1980. In 1985, the other tombs were ready, and in a carefully timed ceremony, the royal remains were flown in over two days: Queen Victoria Eugenia from England, the Infante Gonzalo from Austria, the Infante Jaime from Switzerland, and Don Alfonso from Miami.

Col. Luis Fernandez de Mesa y de Hoas, special envoy from Don Juan de Borbón, Don Alfonso’s brother, arranged for Rivero Funeral Home to exhume and ship Don Alfonso’s body to El Escorial.

 

According to the funeral home’s Enrique Rivero, when the crypt was opened on the morning of April 23, 1985, Don Alfonso’s remains were revealed to have not completely decomposed, and fragments of the white sharkskin suit remained. The body was transferred to a coffin and a wake was held that evening at Rivero Funeral Home on SW 8th St., where the rosary was recited before many local dignitaries, as well as Doña Edelmira, who had moved to Miami after the Cuban revolution.

 

The following day, Don Alfonso was escorted to Miami International Airport by a motorcycle honor guard of officers representing every police department in Miami-Dade County. While the Spanish Consul, Emilio Marti Martiny, and Colonel Fernandez watched, the coffin was loaded into the cargo hold of an Iberia 747 and flown overnight to Madrid. On April 25, 1985, Don Alfonso was finally laid to rest with all the honors due a Crown Prince of Spain.

 

Doña Edelmira remained in touch with the royal family, and despite her divorce, retained the title Countess Covadonga. She died in Miami in 1994, as had Marta Rocafort a year earlier. Neither was buried in Don Alfonso’s crypt, which, according to José Vera of Graceland Memorial Park, remains empty and the property of Don Alfonso’s estate.” — Antolín García Carbonell

 

Edelmira Sampedro is buried down the street at Woodlawn Park Cemetery. We got caught in a downpour while searching for her tombstone. And searched we did. I knew she was right in front of us, but for some reason, we just couldn’t see her. I was looking for Edelmira written large and I wasn’t expecting her to be buried with her older sister. Edelmira and Elizarda Sampedro can be found in Section 17, Grave 38.

 

Our next stop was the Miami-Dade Cultural Center that holds Miami’s Main Library. We went in search of microfiche. The headlines that ran in the Miami Daily News on Tuesday Sept. 6, 1938 read;

COVADONGA DIES FROM ACCIDENT INJURIES: Spanish Nobleman Is Fatally Injured As Car Hits Pole. A photo taken two hours before his death shows the Count laying in bed with his secretary, Jack Fleming, standing alongside.

 

I left Miami burning with curiosity. I read that the woman our Alfonso claimed was his mother, Edelmira Sampedro, never once gave an interview in more than 60 years, she never remarried, and she wrote a memoir that was never published.

 

Back at home, I went to pay my respects to Elizabeth. I knew her esteemed father, Johnny Thiele, who passed away recently at the grand old age of 91 years. Johnny’s atelier is next door to D.G. Wills bookstore on Girard Avenue, so I stopped in.

“Spanish royals?” I asked Mr. Wills as I stepped into the store. When he suggested I search on the computer, I would have nothing of it. I wanted to see and hold a book in my hands.

 

“This is all we have,” Wills said, leading me to the center and middle aisle. He held up his hands to indicate that there were only so many books. I now stood at eye-level with a winner of the Sami Rohr Prize for Jewish Literature: “The Man in the White Sharkskin Suit: A Jewish Family’s Exodus From Old To The New World,” by Lucette Lagnado.

 

An Egyptian by birth, Lucette’s father, “Leon loses everything and his family is forced to flee, abandoning a life once marked by beauty and luxury to plunge into hardship and poverty, as they take flight for any country that would have them.”

 

An author who is writing a book about Edelmira Sampedro contacted me. She grew up with Edelmira’s niece, she has access to Edelmira’s unpublished memoir, and she knows García Carbonell who wrote, “Tragic Drama Under the Miami Moon.”

 

The author, who wishes to remain anonymous, told me that when she stumbled upon the story of Alfonso she was intrigued. She wants to weave our Alfonso into her story.

 

Upon hearing the latest news, Erika Torri wrote, “I think the most fabulous thing about this is that whatever (the author) will do a book, short story, screenplay … if she includes Alfonso, he will live on for a long time, maybe forever, isn’t that what we would all want?”

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Nature One 2016 is one of Europe's biggest open-air electronic festivals, and has been bringing the world's very best DJs to Germany since 1996.

 

Transforming a former NATO missile base into a huge, industrial dancefloor, ravers will party for three days and nights to house, techno, trance and more. 2015's lineup included Axwell ^ Ingrosso, Adam Beyer and Fedde Le Grand.

 

Curated by labels and promoters from across Germany, Switzerland, Belgium and the Netherlands, Nature One's cross-genre showcase has made it one of the continent's most popular destinations for electronic music lovers.

 

OPEN AIR FLOOR

 

It’s this very special moment on the Sunday morning: bang on time for the set of DJ legend Dag the sun cautiously climbs over the horizon. The OpenAirFloor has seen two fantastic nights. Mind-blowing acts, elated crowd, awesome light-LED-laser-pyro-flame shows, stunning sound – in a nutshell: total rave! And yet the last two hours are a truly very special highlight of each and every NATURE ONE.

 

From all the floors they converge here for the final dance together. They’ve just been dancing away to house, gabbering to hardcore and tripping to techno. Now they are celebrating as one, are smiling at each other and drinking a last beer together. Feeling the warmth which gradually drives away the tiredness – the warmth of the boundless We-Feeling.

 

CENTURY CIRCUS

 

Century Circus: the engine room of Nature One 2016. “Full speed ahead” comes the command. The turbines run unceasingly at their full power of 200,000 watts. It’s hot and it’s steamy. Everything is pulsating, reverberating, heaving. Deep pumping basses pound stoically out of all membranes.

 

Luminescent diodes warn of system overload. Enough power is produced here to keep the entire “Pydna” battleship on course. The fuel: your inexhaustible energy. Unleashed by the maestri of overdrive: Sven Väth and Chris Liebing, Adam Beyer and Klaudia Gawlas. The destination: 100% techno – and pure passion.

 

Nature One 2016 is the best time of the year. And if a cold wind does at some point blow through your life, the red dancing flames will warm your heart.

Today, tomorrow – for ever.

HOUSE OF HOUSE

 

In the beginning there was a certain Jack. And Jack had the groove. He said: “Let There Be House!” – and house music was born. House has long since matured into adulthood. And house is on all the channels, speaks all languages. House has already been in bed with hip hop, with pop, with hard rock, with indie and 80s – but always with feel.

 

Given their performance to packed-out crowds all night long last year, Robin Schulz’s label “Tonspiel” and his crew will be taking centre stage on the Friday. The Saturday will see a wild reunion with AKA AKA ft. Thalstroem, Moonbootica, Butch and Tom Novy. The happy end will be provided by the man who gave us the track “Björn Borkenkäfer”: Dominik Eulberg.

 

CLASSIC TERMINAL

 

This is where time stands still but everything else is moving. Feelings of happiness burst forth uncontrollably. Music as the conveyor of emotions. “Hardcore Vibes” for everybody. “Wonderful Days” for each and every one. “Tears Don’t Lie” – tears of joy do neither. “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” there’s room for everyone who knew how to really party at the time – and hasn’t forgotten how to.

 

All those who were sadly unable to experience the joyful first days of techno and happy hardcore, of hands-up and trance, can do so here: the Classic Terminal will beam you back in time to when techno was still spelt with three “ks”. And when gas masks, whistles and neon legwarmers were part of the basic rave outfit.

 

THE CLUBS

 

Techno pulsating to 1,000 cubic metres of bass in the bunkers. House in the hills under 10,000 stars. Trance, hardcore, drum’n’bass – the entire gamut of electronic music. On 19 totally different club floors. Just about enough room for 200 people on this one and for over 1,000 on that one. One floor with strobes and fog puristic to the core, the other with state-of-the-art light and LED systems.

 

At the mixers: DJ heroes, newcomers and the best residents from Hamburg, Berlin and Frankfurt. From Austria, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland and the Netherlands. Communication problems? There aren’t any. Music is the common tongue. Underground and club culture the passion. Enter the club world – at Nature One 2016!

 

Location-

Raketenbasis Pydna

56288 Kastellaun

Germany

Former NATO missile base Raketenbasis Pydna plays host to Nature One, and has been welcoming electronic stars to its base since 1996. Although now officially closed, the site occasionally hosts military training.

  

Line Up-

Open Air Floor

 

ALOK, Cuebrick, DJ Dag, FRDY, Gestört aber GeiL, Laidback Luke, Markus Schulz, Moguai, NatureOne Inc. LIVE, Neelix, Ostblockschlampen, Paul van Dyk, R3HAB, Robin Schulz, Sander van Doorn, Stefan Dabruck, Tom Swoon

 

Century Circus

 

Adam Beyer, Black Asteroid LIVE, Chris Liebing, Christian Gerlach, Dany Rodriguez, Dave Clarke, Felix Kröcher, Flug, Klaudia Gawlas, Len Faki, Marco Bailey, Pappenheimer, Raphael Dincsoy, Sam Paganini, Sven Väth, Torsten Kanzler

 

House Of House

 

AKA AKA feat. Thalstroem LIVE, Boris Brejcha, Butch, Danielle Diaz, David K., Deepend, Dominik Eulberg, FEDER, HEYHEY, HUGEL, Jonathan Kaspar, LCAW, Moonbootica, Nico Pusch, Pingpong, Tom Novy

 

Classic Terminal

 

Alex M.O.R.P.H. b2b Woody van Eyden, Andy Düx, Bassface Sascha, Charly Lownoise & Mental Theo, Dave202, DJ Toyax, Mark ‘Oh, Miss Djax, Ravers Nature LIVE, sunshine live DJ Team, Talla 2XLC dancegeo.com/event/nature-one-2016/

For the past month (Jan 2014) with temps dipping below zero F into the lower 20's, this fluffy Cardinal has spent the night snuggling up next a light bulb in my holiday greens.

 

The image was shot through a small window at the top of my front door. The window consists of two panes of insulated glass. Given the distortion potential of the glass and uncontrollable lighting, the result speaks for itself.

"Twentieth century art may start with nothing, but it flourishes by virtue of its belief in itself, in the possibility of control over what seems essetially uncontrollable, in the coherence of the inchoate, and in its ability to create its own values." - T.S. Eliot

 

"Art is an invention of aesthetics, which in turn is an invention of philosophers. What we call art is a game."

- Octavio Paz

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Finally I've realized the project that I always wanted to make - to create 'still life' composition dedicated to one of my favorite time periods in the history of Arts - Art Deco era. It took a lot of thoughts and time to find the needed props and arrange its the way I saw it in my mind. This is not a traditional 'still life' subject, so I hope you like it...

 

Thanks a lot for your visits and comments, my dear friends...!

 

Names of former residents at Bryn Estyn childrens care home 1970-80

Fragment of a neo-Attic relief representing the birth of Erichthonios. The scene shows Hephaestus with “pileus” and holding tongs in his hands, Gaia, the earth goddess, wearing a crown of olive leaves and ears, and one of the daughters of Cecrops, standing with a hand to her mouth. Gaia is portrayed in the act of offering to Athena her newborn son Erichthonius. Both characters are now missing.

This fragment, today inserted in the base of Galba’s statue, was found near Ostia where a famous Hephaisteion is documented; it dates from 50 BC to the 50 AD.

 

Source: Spinola G., Il Museo Pio Clementino, Vol. 2

 

The Myth

Erichthonios, the fifth mythical king of Athens, was son of Gaia and Hephaestus who loved Athena with unreciprocated love. Athena visited his workshop to ask him to make her some weapons, but on seeing her he lost all thought of his craft, afflicted with a fit of uncontrollable passion.

The virgin-goddess was determined not to submit and fled, but in spite of his lameness the god caught her and did his best to ravish her. In the struggle his semen fell on her thigh. Athena in disgust wiped it off with a scrap of wool, which she threw on the ground. Where it fell, Gaia produced a child and gave him to Athena, who called him Erichthonius (from either eris, strife, or erion, wool, and chthon, earth). She put him in a chest and entrusted it to the three daughters of Cecrops forbidding them to open it. The girls were naturally full of curiosity, and the chest was opened and the girls paid the price of their disobedience. Terrified by what they saw inside, either a snake coiled round the baby, or the baby himself formed as half-child and half-serpent, they went mad and flung themselves from the Acropolis on to the rocks below. Athena herself brought up the child on the Acropolis. When he reached manhood he became king of Athens

 

Source: March J., Cassell Dictionary of Classical Mythology

 

Roman marble bass-relief

Ca. 50 BC – 50 AD

From Ostia

Vatican Museums, Museo Pio-Clementino, "Sala Rotonda" (Round Hall).

 

Woo-hoo! It's Britain's very own teen-idol heartthrob, Sean Harrison! Multi-talented singer, song writer and actor, Sean is a mega star across the pond, and has also enjoyed crossover success here in the United States. Prosperous with much adoration from legions of fans, and an abundance of success on two different continents, the United Kingdom hasn't seen such success since the Culture Club lol. Sean is debonair, robust, and stands tall and gallant in a dignified manner. His characteristics paint him as caring and compassionate in a “We Are the World” sort of way as proof from his involvement with “The World Hunger Shindig”, which also happens to be his debut appearance in the series. The Shindig also marked his first encounter with the love of his life, and revealed a twisted relationship that occurred between himself and the only human being vulgar enough to singe his lapel, the scandalous, Pizzazz Gabor! Fireflies lit up the night, and stars filled the sky, when Sean met Holograms keyboardist, Kimber Benton, at the ranch of Ms. Sally Brand who interrupted the festivities long enough to introduce Sean to the crowd as the liner act for her charity concert, the World Hunger Shindig. And after a quite moving performance from Jem and the Holograms, there wasn't a dry eye in the house! The very second she released her fingers from the black and white bars on her keyboard, Kimber stepped down from the stage and hustled on over to meet Sean, and the two quickly became smitten of each other. The tall Englishman sparked up a conversation about her lyrics and the possibility of writing a song together, and Kimber couldn't help but blush while elaborating ideas for a hit song. During their intimate discussion, a ball of dust barreled ahead as Eric Raymond and the Misfits came swerving up the dirt road at 80 miles per hour in a fancy Cadillac with the intent of stirring up drama as thick as molasses! Determined to rustle up as much attention as possible, the wild-haired rockers jumped out the car and, believe it or not, greeted Ms. Sally with a mild display of respect! Other than Pizzazz's casual demand to be in the charity concert at the Houston Astrodome, Eric didn't have too much apologizing to do on their part, but he was the promoter of the Shindig, so it was only fair for him to go to bat for his band and convince Ms. Sally to allow them the right to perform. The enterprising ranch owner agreed, but she specified that the Misfits would not be allowed to record for her live album unless another artist or band backed out. She then explained to Eric that they would have to shack up with him in her guesthouse, so Roxy and Stormer took off in that direction to get first dibs on the biggest bedroom available. Fighting back total control from the full moon above, Pizzazz casually crept over to Sean and reminded him of the year they met at a crummy club, in London, but he didn't care to address such negativity, so he dismissed her and politely moved along. The following morning, as Kimber sat alone feeding a bird, Sean slowly approached her and complimented her skill for taming wildlife. He also mentioned—because he didn't know much about horses—that he would love for her to join him on a trail ride. At that point, Pizzazz had formed eyes in the back of her head and the hearing ability of a gnat, and all four organs were in play while she eavesdropped on the two lovebirds from behind a tree. Later that day, Sean, Kimber, Jerrica and the remaining Holograms decided to pull themselves away from music for awhile to enjoy the scenic view and all it had to offer. Seconds later, while basking in the sun, a phone call came in on Sean's cordless phone for him to tie up a few loose strings with business, in Houston, forcing him to cut his time short with his gal and report to said destination. Later that evening, Kimber climbed aboard the hayride with her sisters and pondered her dear sweet man's whereabouts. She would have never guessed in a million years that Ms. Alligator Woman had him clamped in her grip a half hour away at Jim's Western Tavern, and was dead set on impressing him with her performance of “Gimme!, Gimme!, Gimme!” As Pizzazz's cabaret act reached its finale, Sean voiced his desire to return to the ranch and meet up with Kimber, so they departed for home. During the grueling car ride back, the outspoken dominator began lashing her tongue about his new, mellow personality, and mentioned how he used to have guts! As usual, Sean didn't give a hoot as he was more concerned about her reckless driving, and advised her to grow up and slow down. Now bubbling past her breaking point, Pizzazz glared over at the passenger side and called him a wimp! The more passive he was, the more angrier she became, and with one foot on the gas and the other on the break (damn two-footer lol), Pizzazz darted directly into the path of the hayride carrying Jem and the Holograms! Tickled pink by her own risky maneuver, she swerved around the accident and laughed uncontrollably while the hay barrel spun out of control and landed on the side of the road, in the field. With no f**ks to give, she slammed on the gas once more and drove away, leaving the scene of the accident in her rearview mirror. As the Holograms inspected the damage to their carriage, Jerrica turned and asked Kimber if she noticed who was sitting in the passenger side of the car at which moment she admitted that she had, and vowed never to speak to him again! The following night, backstage at the concert, Sean spotted Kimber with her girls and whisked himself over to explain his side of the story, admitting flat out that he should have been with her, but Pizzazz kept him from doing so. All she needed to do was look into his eyes and Kimber forgave her guy. As for Pizzi, she's always had a hard time comprehending that nice girls, such as Kimber, start AND win the race! Their time spent together during the Shindig was kismet, and the connection was undeniably strong from the start.

 

The two lovebirds experienced another rare encounter together, in “Scandal”, while on Venice Beach, in California, where Jem and the Holograms arrived for their scheduled interview with California Beat to promote their appearance at the Roller Rock-Out Bash. It had been a long time since she communicated with her man, so Kimber was shocked when she walked into her tent to freshen up and recognized Sean who was preparing for his own interview. The British Pop-rocker asked to have a word with her and they started in on an important conversation until he was called to film his segment. After reporting that he was in town to perform at the Roller Rock-Out Bash with his all-male Pop band, Sean walked over to the beach and noticed Kimber sitting alone writing in her diary and decided to join her. Then, in the most respectful way possible, he asked her to write a song for him, catching her off guard and leaving her stunned! The keyboardist happily agreed to create a popular tune for the Brit, and then he asked her to meet him for dinner at Los Pelomas to which she said she would be there no sooner or later than 8:00. Upon leaving for her interview, Kimber forgot to grab her purse, but a staff member for California Beat noticed and ran over to pick it up from off the bench while inadvertently knocking her diary onto the sand. Then, as bad luck would have it, Misfits saxophonist, Jetta, noticed the brightly-colored book laying next to the base of a palm tree unopened and picked it up, then jumped on back of Stormer's ATV and raced out of sight! Hours passed and Sean arrived at the restaurant on time to find that Kimber hadn't arrived yet, so he sat and waited. While chillin' at his table in VIP, he was bum-rushed by the Misfits who fixed the entire situation so that Kimber wouldn't show up at all, and arrived instead with a publisher from Cool Trash Magazine to conduct a rigged interview for their advantage! Pizzazz secured proof of her rendezvous by getting Roxy to snap a picture of herself and Jetta cozying up to the British stud in the booth, which pissed him off, so he shoved the rockstar off her seat and onto the porcelain floor where she banged her elbow super hard, then sat there for a minute in shock lol! Bored out of his gourd, Sean assumed his sweetheart wouldn't show, so he hopped over the table and dashed out of there. At the bash, Sean was just finishing up his performance with his band, when Kimber rolled in with Raya and skated out to the middle of the floor where she noticed him standing on stage. The second he spotted her, he hollered her name over the crowd, and she scooted closer to see her honey...until Pizzazz strolled in on her skates with a microphone and announced that she was “good friends” with Sean, and that she was about to add some spice to the event with her drum-banging hit, “Scandal!” When the music stopped, she slid forward and directly in front of Kimber to present her with a copy of Cool Trash Magazine that featured a picture of her face on the front cover and the title: “Kimber loves Sean, he could care less!” The reality of the scandal left her reeling in tears, and her sadness from the humiliation was more than she could ever handle, so she flew out the building and was followed by a crowd of fans who chased her into the street where she was almost hit by a bus! Out of concern for her, Sean ran outside to call her back, but she was already several feet away, weaving through traffic, and skated all the way back home and up to her bedroom where she swore she would never write again. The following night, on the Harriet Horn show, Kimber prepared for her performance with support from Jem, Shana, Aja and Raya who were ready to sock it to the Misfits with their song of redemption, “Dear Diary!” After the lights came up and Jem's wind machine whirled its last gust of wind, Harriet surprised Kimber with a special guest appearance from her British babe! The minute he appeared, Sean took full advantage of the opportunity to explain to the world that the Cool Trash interview at the restaurant was nothing but hogwash, and that Pizzazz was to blame for the entire situation. And while keeping in tune with the mood of the moment, he placed her hand in his and confirmed that he had the utmost respect for her, and then asked her again to write a song for him. The attention given to Kimber was bad medicine for Pizzazz who stood up bitterly from her seat and said SHE was supposed to write the song because she's BETTER than her. While laughing his head off, Sean raised one eyebrow and told her to quit dreaming and grow the hell up! In that moment, the atmosphere felt more like the gymnasium scene from “Carrie”, and the crowd hungered for more as Pizzazz lunged forward with a rebel yell that was heard from outside Studio A! Roxy, Stormer and Jetta were worried about getting kicked off Harriet's show, like they did on VTV, so they jumped up at once to calm her down. With only 10 seconds left on air, Kimber had gained control of the melodrama, and then answered “yes” to writing a song for her gentleman. Her response generated a chorus of cheers from the audience, and an even bigger round of applause. Just before the credits rolled on camera, Sean stood up from his seat and declared the segment as the show of all shows.

 

Throughout the remainder of 1987, Sean and Kimber paired up whenever the opportunity presented itself, but the distance factor proved to be one serious obstacle to conquer. His love for her was what kept him going, and she was all he could think about during his flight to California to film his latest project for Howard E. Sands' Rock musical production, in “Hollywood Jem, Part One!” Besides the fact that he was chief lyricist for the soundtrack, he also had a co-starring role as a talking robotic computer, which Kimber found pretty amusing when she discovered that it was him behind the studio screen. They were so pleased to catch up with each other on all their accomplishments, and Kimber asked for Sean to advise her if he needed help with his lyrics for the soundtrack to which Sean agreed that he would. Days later, with Rio and Jem, Sean escorted Kimber to a party, in Beverly Hills, hosted by French director, François Trésor. Casual and cool was the mood of the night as François offered Jem a role in his film. The diamond-draped singer accepted, but kindly asked if she could finish her latest project, first. And, after only 15 minutes into the gala, François blew his top at Jem’s answer, forcing herself and Rio to turn back around and exit his gathering. Kimber was affected by her sister's misfortune as François began to slander the lead vocalist's name to a few reporters who were present. So, being the thoughtful man that he is, Sean felt her discomfort and quickly whizzed her away to the Hollywood Hills to take her mind off the incident at the party. The sweet gesture captured her heart and opened her mind to the possibility of a relationship. Sean then mentioned that he wanted to make a stronger commitment to her. And with the city lights shining below, and the stars covering the sky, he pulled her close and they locked lips in a tight embrace. At that moment, Kimber grew very close to him, so close, in fact, that she mistook his affection as a proposal of marriage, and she couldn't wait to gush to Jem about it. However, before she reached cloud nine, Sean pulled her back down to earth gently and admitted that his comment was not meant to suggest they get married. He agreed to be more committed and to see her exclusively, but he wasn't exactly ready for the infinite lock and key. Emotionally crushed by the truth, Kimber apologized and said she didn't mean to rush into love, while Sean assured her that it was just fine and apologized also for not making himself more clear. The ride home was heart-wrenching for Kimber who began to get a little ahead of herself while listening to Gloria Estefan's “Anything for You” on the car stereo system, and assumed their friendship had come to a complete end. Then Eric Carmen's “Hungry Eyes” came on, commanding for Sean to look over and wink at his girl. The heart-broken Hologram secretly wished for the car ride to last forever, but they had already arrived at the front door of Starlight Mansion where her suitor dropped her off and wished her a good night. The following day, Sean stood outdoors with Rio, Jem and the crew to watch his stunt double, Jeff Wright, perform a high speed chase under a truck. Far off in the distance, on the opposite side of the set, stood Kimber who appeared wearing a pair of expensive sunglasses to hide her pain from the previous night. During his stunt, Jeff recognized the keyboardist standing alone and almost crashed while staring. When he jumped out the vehicle, the second his boots hit the ground, Kimber ran into his arms and they expressed outright happiness in seeing each other! Caught by surprise, Sean approached with caution and said he would meet her back at the studio to begin their song. Quickly consumed with jealousy, Jeff asked her about her relationship with Sean and became upset when he didn't receive the answer he was looking for, even going so far as to accuse her of leading on half the male population of California! He then sped off angrily on his motorcycle. Back at Sean's in-house studio, Kimber walked in and apologized for not mentioning the situation early on. She also drove it home that she liked him and enjoyed working with him, and Sean replied with just the same. Something clicked inside of him that day during their rehearsal session. His feelings started running deep and he couldn't shake the vibes, which was why he decided to purchase an engagement ring for his special girl at the jewelry store with a plan to propose. The next day, on set, Sean noticed Kimber a few feet away and ran over to complete the deed, but Jeff cut him off by swinging in on a rope and lifting her to a higher platform to ask her one last time for her hand in marriage! With Sean looking on, Kimber agreed to marry him, causing the agile daredevil to laugh vociferously at the news, then lift her up in his arms, like Indiana Jones, and leap onto the lower level where Kimber insisted on climbing down to the ground. Looking out below, she watched Sean slowly walk away and felt absolutely terrible, so she quickly chased him down as he marched forward feeling broken and bruised. Unaware of his feelings for her, Kimber revealed that she accepted Jeff's proposal, but the towering prince of Pop played it cool and reminded her that he wasn't ready to settle down. Seconds after, in a smart tone, he congratulated her while continuing his march to his dressing room where he junked the ring and held his head low in anguish. The gallant Brit was heated during the events leading up to Kimber's wedding day, in “Hollywood Jem, Part Two!” The clock was ticking and he needed to show her how much he really wanted her in his life...and boy did he ever! It all came to a head, when he risked his life by performing Jeff's stunt himself and raced his car directly at the speeding truck instead of UNDER as was planned! Once he lost control of the wheel there was no way of gaining it back, and soon his race car spun out of control, flipping across the road and smashing violently into a large stack of hay! The crew couldn't believe what they had seen and ran over to pull him out. The fellas then laid him down on a stretcher where Rio and Kimber stood by his side with as much help as they could possibly provide. At first, Kimber thought it was Jeff, but when the helmet came off, she discovered it was Sean and wept at the sight of her beau in pain! Rio insisted on driving her to the hospital where the two sat in the waiting room wondering what happened to their good friend. Right away, Kimber blamed herself and regretted not knowing just how upset he really was about her up-and-coming wedding. Eventually, the nurse entered the waiting room with an update on his condition and stated that he was stable, but hadn't regained consciousness. She then suggested that they both get some rest, so Rio told Kimber to go on home and that he would call her if necessary. A full day passed and Sean eventually regained consciousness with minimal discomfort from his accident, and he was DETERMINED to win his ladylove back! He was still confined to his bed due to a broken leg. So, with little time to waste, the musician sent Rio to interrupt her wedding with his ring of proposal. The plan almost failed as Jerrica gasped at the sight of her man kneeling down in front of her on bended knee for Kimber—and he did it with Sean's personalized diamond rock. Kimber was flattered, but said she couldn't possibly marry him at which point Rio announced to her and everyone there that he was doing it all for his good buddy, Sean. Turns out, Kimber and Jeff decided not to get hitched after all, and she wasted no time getting over to the hospital where Sean explained how much he cared with an official proposal of marriage from his bed. Kimber agreed, but quickly decided that it was crucial to get better acquainted before fully committing to each other. Gradually, he became mobile and was discharged from the hospital just in time for the 60th Annual Academy Awards, honoring his friend, Jem, who was nominated for “Best Actress!” Kimber was dressed in her best and was shocked, when her loverboy popped out the limousine with crutches and a leg cast to escorted her to the ceremony. The two had a blast together on that night, and Sean moved into Starlight Mansion where he and Kimber locked themselves away for a whole week before his departure from California. Despite their infrequent encounters, Sean has always been extremely fond of his lady fair, and also fully aware of a love lost due to assumptions and miscommunication—two mistakes he vowed to never make again. New Years ‘87 passed, and 1988 hurried in with “Riot's Hope”, and a memorable gathering at Stingers Sound Studios in celebration of the Stingers' debut album. The party allowed Sean and Kimber the chance to spend the evening together mingling among close friends and colleagues, and ripping up the dance floor to Riot's authoritative warning, “Take it or Leave It”, and his heart-puncturing tune, “It's a Hard, Hard Life!” Time has past since their verbal engagement at the hospital, and the connection between both musicians has grown stronger than ever before!

 

This set is one that I consider to be another golden treasure—something of a personal reward from Integrity Toys—and I'm very grateful and undoubtedly delighted to add him to my collection! Sean is extremely essential to the world of Jem and I am blown away by his appearance as a fashion doll. He was another pick from my top ten list of must-haves, and it sure seems as though Integrity is giving me exactly what I want because Sean (along with a majority of the dolls on my wish list) has come to fruition! This British crooner definitely stands out in the collection with just his signature jet black swoop alone! The short cut accommodates his face sculpt so well, and the dark hue immediately directs your attention to his piercing blue eyes. Speaking of which, there's something very interesting about the way Integrity constructed his pupils. To start with, their decision to add a yellow ring to both irises seems a bit unconventional, but it works for Sean! Another unavoidable feature worth point out is the outer area around his eyes. The off-brown appearance exposes a mysterious allure that almost appears a bit distressed—looks real good, though! I am astonished at the work on his blue, custom-made Burberry blazer! He wears his swanky, chain-linked lapel brooch pinned to the chest area of his jacket, and it's brilliant! There's equal appreciation for his sheer, pale green, pink-striped Oxford dress shirt, his dark purple, pin-striped Oxford trousers and his pink GQ belt! Sean also proves to have a mean shoe game choosing, from his imported collection, a pair of upscale, Bass Weejun penny loafers, and a classy pair of slick, dark blue Gianni Versace socks to dress up his feet. Only one man has the qualifications to don such a dapper getup and press forth with the utmost pride! I'm actually quite angry at the absence of his original wristwatch as depicted in Integrity's prototype pictures. From my standpoint, the dark blue/white-striped band matches perfectly with the gold bezel, both adding a ton of flare to his entire outfit! I also feel that the original wristwatch looks more fashionable and realistic. Damn! What a loss! Inside this set contains an incriminating photo and note from Pizzazz, both of which I'm sure he'd give anything to forget! The last piece of memorabilia is a final script for Howard Sands' box office smash, Starbright!

 

Sean Harrison was one of the defining figures of mid-‘80s Pop. His music merged the technology-intensive sound of new wave and filtered right into Synth and Rock genres effortlessly! Harrison racked up a string of hits before he retreated into being a cult symbol by the conclusion of the decade. With a whopping 87 weeks on the charts, “Romance in Modern Times” holds the record for most weeks spent on the Hot 100! And his acclaimed 1987 classic, “Benton My Belle”, has spent an amazing 30 weeks riding the Billboard 200 albums chart! Writer, composer, collaborator, producer, paired with three live albums and sold out tours...Sean Harrison-Benton-Harrison is one Brit who's proud to raise his flag high in the sky with pride! 🇬🇧

HINDU GODDESS KALI

Kālī, also known as Kālikā (Sanskrit: कालिका), is the Hindu goddess associated with empowerment, shakti. She is the fierce aspect of the goddess Durga (Parvati). The name Kali comes from kāla, which means black, time, death, lord of death: Shiva. Since Shiva is called Kāla— the eternal time — the name of Kālī, his consort, also means "Time" or "Death" (as in "time has come"). Hence, Kāli is the Goddess of Time and Change. Although sometimes presented as dark and violent, her earliest incarnation as a figure of annihilation of evil forces still has some influence. Various Shakta Hindu cosmologies, as well as Shākta Tantric beliefs, worship her as the ultimate reality or Brahman. Comparatively recent devotional movements largely conceive Kāli as a benevolent mother goddess. Kālī is represented as the consort of Lord Shiva, on whose body she is often seen standing. Shiva lies in the path of Kali, whose foot on Shiva subdues her anger.

 

ETYMOLOGY

Kālī is the feminine form of kālam ("black, dark coloured"). Kāla primarily means "time" but also means "black" in honor of being the first creation before light itself. Kālī means "the black one" and refers to her being the entity of "time" or "beyond time." Kāli is strongly associated with Shiva, and Shaivas derive the masculine Kāla (an epithet of Shiva) to come from her feminine name. A nineteenth-century Sanskrit dictionary, the Shabdakalpadrum, states: कालः शिवः। तस्य पत्नीति - काली। kālaḥ śivaḥ। tasya patnīti kālī - "Shiva is Kāla, thus, his consort is Kāli" referring to Devi Parvathi being a manifestation of Devi MahaKali.

 

Other names include Kālarātri ("black night"), as described above, and Kālikā ("relating to time"). Coburn notes that the name Kālī can be used as a proper name, or as a description of color.

 

Kāli's association with darkness stands in contrast to her consort, Shiva, who manifested after her in creation, and who symbolises the rest of creation after Time is created. In his supreme awareness of Maya, his body is covered by the white ashes of the cremation ground (Sanskrit: śmaśāna) where he meditates, and with which Kāli is also associated, as śmaśāna-kālī.

 

ORIGINS

Hugh Urban notes that although the word Kālī appears as early as the Atharva Veda, the first use of it as a proper name is in the Kathaka Grhya Sutra (19.7). Kali is the name of one of the seven tongues of Agni, the [Rigvedic] God of Fire, in the Mundaka Upanishad (2:4), but it is unlikely that this refers to the goddess. The first appearance of Kāli in her present form is in the Sauptika Parvan of the Mahabharata (10.8.64). She is called Kālarātri (literally, "black night") and appears to the Pandava soldiers in dreams, until finally she appears amidst the fighting during an attack by Drona's son Ashwatthama. She most famously appears in the sixth century Devi Mahatmyam as one of the shaktis of Mahadevi, and defeats the demon Raktabija ("Bloodseed"). The tenth-century Kalika Purana venerates Kāli as the ultimate reality.

 

According to David Kinsley, Kāli is first mentioned in Hinduism as a distinct goddess around 600 CE, and these texts "usually place her on the periphery of Hindu society or on the battlefield." She is often regarded as the Shakti of Shiva, and is closely associated with him in various Puranas. The Kalika Purana depicts her as the "Adi Shakti" (Fundamental Power) and "Para Prakriti" or beyond nature.

 

WORSHIP & MANTRA

Kali could be considered a general concept, like Durga, and is mostly worshiped in the Kali Kula sect of worship. The closest way of direct worship is Maha Kali or Bhadra Kali (Bhadra in Sanskrit means 'gentle'). Kali is worshiped as one of the 10 Mahavidya forms of Adi Parashakti (Goddess Durga) or Bhagavathy according to the region. The mantra for worship is called Devi Argala Stotram.

Sanskrit: सर्वमङ्गलमाङ्गल्ये शिवे सर्वार्थसाधिके । शरण्ये त्र्यम्बके गौरि नारायणि नमोऽस्तु ते ॥

 

ॐ जयंती मंगल काली भद्रकाली कपालिनी । दुर्गा क्षमा शिवा धात्री स्वाहा स्वधा नमोऽस्तु‍ते ॥

(Sarvamaṅgalamāṅgalyē śivē sarvārthasādhikē . śaraṇyē tryambakē gauri nārāyaṇi namō'stu tē.

Oṃ jayantī mangala kālī bhadrakālī kapālinī . durgā kṣamā śivā dhātrī svāhā svadhā namō'stu‍tē.)

 

TANTRA

Goddesses play an important role in the study and practice of Tantra Yoga, and are affirmed to be as central to discerning the nature of reality as are the male deities. Although Parvati is often said to be the recipient and student of Shiva's wisdom in the form of Tantras, it is Kāli who seems to dominate much of the Tantric iconography, texts, and rituals. In many sources Kāli is praised as the highest reality or greatest of all deities. The Nirvana-tantra says the gods Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva all arise from her like bubbles in the sea, ceaselessly arising and passing away, leaving their original source unchanged. The Niruttara-tantra and the Picchila-tantra declare all of Kāli's mantras to be the greatest and the Yogini-tantra, Kamakhya-tantra and the Niruttara-tantra all proclaim Kāli vidyas (manifestations of Mahadevi, or "divinity itself"). They declare her to be an essence of her own form (svarupa) of the Mahadevi.

 

In the Mahanirvana-tantra, Kāli is one of the epithets for the primordial sakti, and in one passage Shiva praises her:

 

At the dissolution of things, it is Kāla [Time] Who will devour all, and by reason of this He is called Mahākāla [an epithet of Lord Shiva], and since Thou devourest Mahākāla Himself, it is Thou who art the Supreme Primordial Kālika. Because Thou devourest Kāla, Thou art Kāli, the original form of all things, and because Thou art the Origin of and devourest all things Thou art called the Adya [the Primordial One]. Re-assuming after Dissolution Thine own form, dark and formless, Thou alone remainest as One ineffable and inconceivable. Though having a form, yet art Thou formless; though Thyself without beginning, multiform by the power of Maya, Thou art the Beginning of all, Creatrix, Protectress, and Destructress that Thou art.

 

The figure of Kāli conveys death, destruction, and the consuming aspects of reality. As such, she is also a "forbidden thing", or even death itself. In the Pancatattva ritual, the sadhaka boldly seeks to confront Kali, and thereby assimilates and transforms her into a vehicle of salvation. This is clear in the work of the Karpuradi-stotra, a short praise of Kāli describing the Pancatattva ritual unto her, performed on cremation grounds. (Samahana-sadhana)

 

He, O Mahākāli who in the cremation-ground, naked, and with dishevelled hair, intently meditates upon Thee and recites Thy mantra, and with each recitation makes offering to Thee of a thousand Akanda flowers with seed, becomes without any effort a Lord of the earth. Oh Kāli, whoever on Tuesday at midnight, having uttered Thy mantra, makes offering even but once with devotion to Thee of a hair of his Shakti [his energy/female companion] in the cremation-ground, becomes a great poet, a Lord of the earth, and ever goes mounted upon an elephant.

 

The Karpuradi-stotra clearly indicates that Kāli is more than a terrible, vicious, slayer of demons who serves Durga or Shiva. Here, she is identified as the supreme mistress of the universe, associated with the five elements. In union with Lord Shiva, she creates and destroys worlds. Her appearance also takes a different turn, befitting her role as ruler of the world and object of meditation. In contrast to her terrible aspects, she takes on hints of a more benign dimension. She is described as young and beautiful, has a gentle smile, and makes gestures with her two right hands to dispel any fear and offer boons. The more positive features exposed offer the distillation of divine wrath into a goddess of salvation, who rids the sadhaka of fear. Here, Kali appears as a symbol of triumph over death.

 

BENGALI TRADITION

Kali is also a central figure in late medieval Bengali devotional literature, with such devotees as Ramprasad Sen (1718–75). With the exception of being associated with Parvati as Shiva's consort, Kāli is rarely pictured in Hindu legends and iconography as a motherly figure until Bengali devotions beginning in the early eighteenth century. Even in Bengāli tradition her appearance and habits change little, if at all.

 

The Tantric approach to Kāli is to display courage by confronting her on cremation grounds in the dead of night, despite her terrible appearance. In contrast, the Bengali devotee appropriates Kāli's teachings adopting the attitude of a child, coming to love her unreservedly. In both cases, the goal of the devotee is to become reconciled with death and to learn acceptance of the way that things are. These themes are well addressed in Rāmprasād's work. Rāmprasād comments in many of his other songs that Kāli is indifferent to his wellbeing, causes him to suffer, brings his worldly desires to nothing and his worldly goods to ruin.

 

To be a child of Kāli, Rāmprasād asserts, is to be denied of earthly delights and pleasures. Kāli is said to refrain from giving that which is expected. To the devotee, it is perhaps her very refusal to do so that enables her devotees to reflect on dimensions of themselves and of reality that go beyond the material world.

 

A significant portion of Bengali devotional music features Kāli as its central theme and is known as Shyama Sangeet ("Music of the Night"). Mostly sung by male vocalists, today even women have taken to this form of music. One of the finest singers of Shyāma Sāngeet is Pannalal Bhattacharya.

 

In Bengal, Kāli is venerated in the festival Kali Puja, the new moon day of Ashwin month which coincides with Diwali festival.

 

In a unique form of Kāli worship, Shantipur worships Kāli in the form of a hand painted image of the deity known as Poteshwari (meaning the deity drawn on a piece of cloth).

 

LEGENDS

SLAYER OF RAKTABIJA

In Kāli's most famous legend, Devi Durga (Adi Parashakti) and her assistants, the Matrikas, wound the demon Raktabija, in various ways and with a variety of weapons in an attempt to destroy him. They soon find that they have worsened the situation for with every drop of blood that is dripped from Raktabija he reproduces a clone of himself. The battlefield becomes increasingly filled with his duplicates. Durga, in need of help, summons Kāli to combat the demons. It is said, in some versions, that Goddess Durga actually assumes the form of Goddess Kāli at this time. The Devi Mahatmyam describes:

 

Out of the surface of her (Durga's) forehead, fierce with frown, issued suddenly Kali of terrible countenance, armed with a sword and noose. Bearing the strange khatvanga (skull-topped staff ), decorated with a garland of skulls, clad in a tiger's skin, very appalling owing to her emaciated flesh, with gaping mouth, fearful with her tongue lolling out, having deep reddish eyes, filling the regions of the sky with her roars, falling upon impetuously and slaughtering the great asuras in that army, she devoured those hordes of the foes of the devas.

 

Kali destroys Raktabija by sucking the blood from his body and putting the many Raktabija duplicates in her gaping mouth. Pleased with her victory, Kali then dances on the field of battle, stepping on the corpses of the slain. In the Devi Mahatmya version of this story, Kali is also described as a Matrika and as a Shakti or power of Devi. She is given the epithet Cāṃuṇḍā (Chamunda), i.e. the slayer of the demons Chanda and Munda. Chamunda is very often identified with Kali and is very much like her in appearance and habit.

 

DAKSHINA KALI

In her most famous pose as Daksinakali, popular legends say that Kali, becoming drunk on the blood of her victims on the battlefield, dances with destructive frenzy. She is about to destroy the whole universe when, urged by all the gods, Shiva lies in her way to stop her. In her fury, she fails to see the body of Shiva lying amongst the corpses on the battlefield and steps upon his chest. Realizing Shiva lies beneath her feet, her anger is pacified and she calms her fury. Though not included in any of the puranas, popular legends state that Kali was ashamed at the prospect of keeping her husband beneath her feet and thus stuck her tongue out in shame. The Devi-Bhagavata Purana, which goes into great depths about the goddess Kali, reveals the tongue's actual symbolism.

 

The characteristic icons that depict Kali are the following; unbridled matted hair, open blood shot eyes, open mouth and a drooping tongue; in her hands, she holds a Khadga (bent sword or scimitar) and a human head; she has a girdle of human hands across her waist and an enchanted Shiva lies beneath her feet. Each of these icons represent a deep philosophical epithet. The drooping out-stuck tongue represents her blood-thirst. Lord Shiva beneath her feet represents matter, as Kali is undoubtedly the primeval energy. The depiction of Kali on Shiva shows that without energy, matter lies "dead". This concept has been simplified to a folk-tale depicting a wife placing her foot on her husband and sticking her tongue out in shame. In tantric contexts, the tongue is seen to denote the element (guna) of rajas (energy and action) controlled by sattva.

 

If Kali steps on Shiva with her right foot and holds the sword in her left hand, she is considered to be Dakshina Kali. The Dakshina Kali Temple has important religious associations with the Jagannath Temple and it is believed that Daksinakali is the guardian of the kitchen of the Lord Jagannath Temple. Puranic tradition says that in Puri, Lord Jagannath is regarded as Daksinakalika. Goddess Dakshinakali plays an important role in the 'Niti' of Saptapuri Amavasya.

 

One South Indian tradition tells of a dance contest between Shiva and Kali. After defeating the two demons Sumbha and Nisumbha, Kali takes up residence in the forest of Thiruvalankadu or Thiruvalangadu. She terrorizes the surrounding area with her fierce, disruptive nature. One of Shiva's devotees becomes distracted while performing austerities, and asks Shiva to rid the forest of the destructive goddess. When Shiva arrives, Kali threatens him, claiming the territory as her own. Shiva challenges Kali to a dance contest; both of them dance and Kali matches Shiva in every step that he takes until Shiva takes the "Urdhvatandava" step, by vertically raising his right leg. Kali refuses to perform this step, which would not befit her as a woman, and became pacified.

 

SMASHAN KALI

If the Kali steps out with the left foot and holds the sword in her right hand, she is the terrible form of Mother, the Smashan Kali of the cremation ground. She is worshiped by tantrics, the followers of Tantra, who believe that one's spiritual discipline practiced in a smashan (cremation ground) brings success quickly. Sarda Devi, the consort of Ramakrishna Paramhansa, worshipped Smashan Kali at Dakshineshwar.

 

MATERNAL KALI

Another legend depicts the infant Shiva calming Kali. In this similar story, Kali has defeated her enemies on the battlefield and begun to dance out of control, drunk on the blood of the slain. To calm her down and to protect the stability of the world, Shiva is sent to the battlefield, as an infant, crying aloud. Seeing the child's distress, Kali ceases dancing to care for the helpless infant. She picks him up, kisses his head, and proceeds to breast feed the infant Shiva. This legend is notable because it shows Kali in her benevolent, maternal aspect, with which she is not usually identified.

 

MAHAKALI

Mahakali (Sanskrit: Mahākālī, Devanagari: महाकाली), literally translated as Great Kali, is sometimes considered as a greater form of Kali, identified with the Ultimate reality of Brahman. It can also be used as an honorific of the Goddess Kali, signifying her greatness by the prefix "Mahā-". Mahakali, in Sanskrit, is etymologically the feminized variant of Mahakala or Great Time (which is interpreted also as Death), an epithet of the God Shiva in Hinduism. Mahakali is the presiding Goddess of the first episode of the Devi Mahatmya. Here she is depicted as Devi in her universal form as Shakti. Here Devi serves as the agent who allows the cosmic order to be restored.

 

Kali is depicted in the Mahakali form as having ten heads, ten arms, and ten legs. Each of her ten hands is carrying a various implement which vary in different accounts, but each of these represent the power of one of the Devas or Hindu Gods and are often the identifying weapon or ritual item of a given Deva. The implication is that Mahakali subsumes and is responsible for the powers that these deities possess and this is in line with the interpretation that Mahakali is identical with Brahman. While not displaying ten heads, an "ekamukhi" or one headed image may be displayed with ten arms, signifying the same concept: the powers of the various Gods come only through Her grace.

 

ICONOGRAPHY

Kali is portrayed mostly in two forms: the popular four-armed form and the ten-armed Mahakali form. In both of her forms, she is described as being black in color but is most often depicted as blue in popular Indian art. Her eyes are described as red with intoxication, and in absolute rage, her hair is shown disheveled, small fangs sometimes protrude out of her mouth, and her tongue is lolling. She is often shown naked or just wearing a skirt made of human arms and a garland of human heads. She is also accompanied by serpents and a jackal while standing on a seemingly dead Shiva, usually right foot forward to symbolize the more popular Dakshinamarga or right-handed path, as opposed to the more infamous and transgressive Vamamarga or left-handed path.

 

In the ten-armed form of Mahakali she is depicted as shining like a blue stone. She has ten faces and ten feet and three eyes. She has ornaments decked on all her limbs. There is no association with Shiva.

 

The Kalika Purana describes Kali as possessing a soothing dark complexion, as perfectly beautiful, riding a lion, four-armed, holding a sword and blue lotuses, her hair unrestrained, body firm and youthful.

 

In spite of her seemingly terrible form, Kali Ma is often considered the kindest and most loving of all the Hindu goddesses, as she is regarded by her devotees as the Mother of the whole Universe. And because of her terrible form, she is also often seen as a great protector. When the Bengali saint Ramakrishna once asked a devotee why one would prefer to worship Mother over him, this devotee rhetorically replied, "Maharaj, when they are in trouble your devotees come running to you. But, where do you run when you are in trouble?"

 

According to Ramakrishna, darkness is the Ultimate Mother, or Kali:

 

My Mother is the principle of consciousness. She is Akhanda Satchidananda; indivisible Reality, Awareness, and Bliss. The night sky between the stars is perfectly black. The waters of the ocean depths are the same; The infinite is always mysteriously dark. This inebriating darkness is my beloved Kali.

 

SRI RAMAKRISHNA

This is clear in the works of such contemporary artists as Charles Wish, and Tyeb Mehta, who sometimes take great liberties with the traditional, accepted symbolism, but still demonstrate a true reverence for the Shakta sect.

 

POPULAR FORM

Classic depictions of Kali share several features, as follows:

 

Kali's most common four armed iconographic image shows each hand carrying variously a sword, a trishul (trident), a severed head and a bowl or skull-cup (kapala) catching the blood of the severed head.

 

Two of these hands (usually the left) are holding a sword and a severed head. The Sword signifies Divine Knowledge and the Human Head signifies human Ego which must be slain by Divine Knowledge in order to attain Moksha. The other two hands (usually the right) are in the abhaya (fearlessness) and varada (blessing) mudras, which means her initiated devotees (or anyone worshipping her with a true heart) will be saved as she will guide them here and in the hereafter.

 

She has a garland consisting of human heads, variously enumerated at 108 (an auspicious number in Hinduism and the number of countable beads on a Japa Mala or rosary for repetition of Mantras) or 51, which represents Varnamala or the Garland of letters of the Sanskrit alphabet, Devanagari. Hindus believe Sanskrit is a language of dynamism, and each of these letters represents a form of energy, or a form of Kali. Therefore she is generally seen as the mother of language, and all mantras.

 

She is often depicted naked which symbolizes her being beyond the covering of Maya since she is pure (nirguna) being-consciousness-bliss and far above prakriti. She is shown as very dark as she is brahman in its supreme unmanifest state. She has no permanent qualities - she will continue to exist even when the universe ends. It is therefore believed that the concepts of color, light, good, bad do not apply to her - she is the pure, un-manifested energy, the Adi-shakti.

 

SHIVA IN KALI ICONOGRAPHY

In both these images she is shown standing on the prone, inert or dead body of Shiva. There is a legend for the reason behind her standing on what appears to be Shiva's corpse, which translates as follows:

 

Once Kali had destroyed all the demons in battle, she began a terrific dance out of the sheer joy of victory. All the worlds or lokas began to tremble and sway under the impact of her dance. So, at the request of all the Gods, Shiva himself asked her to desist from this behavior. However, she was too intoxicated to listen. Hence, Shiva lay like a corpse among the slain demons in order to absorb the shock of the dance into himself. When Kali eventually stepped upon Shiva, she realized she was trampling and hurting her husband and bit her tongue in shame.

 

The story described here is a popular folk tale and not described or hinted in any of the puranas. The puranic interpretation is as follows:

 

Once, Parvati asks Shiva to chose the one form among her 10 forms which he likes most. To her surprise, Shiva reveals that he is most comfortable with her Kali form, in which she is bereft of her jewellery, her human-form, her clothes, her emotions and where she is only raw, chaotic energy, where she is as terrible as time itself and even greater than time. As Parvati takes the form of Kali, Shiva lies at her feet and requests her to place her foot on his chest, upon his heart. Once in this form, Shiva requests her to have this place, below her feet in her iconic image which would be worshiped throughout.

 

This idea has been explored in the Devi-Bhagavata Purana and is most popular in the Shyama Sangeet, devotional songs to Kali from the 12th to 15th centuries.

 

The Tantric interpretation of Kali standing on top of her husband is as follows:

 

The Shiv tattava (Divine Consciousness as Shiva) is inactive, while the Shakti tattava (Divine Energy as Kali) is active. Shiva and Kali represent Brahman, the Absolute pure consciousness which is beyond all names, forms and activities. Kali, on the other hand, represents the potential (and manifested) energy responsible for all names, forms and activities. She is his Shakti, or creative power, and is seen as the substance behind the entire content of all consciousness. She can never exist apart from Shiva or act independently of him, just as Shiva remains a mere corpse without Kali i.e., Shakti, all the matter/energy of the universe, is not distinct from Shiva, or Brahman, but is rather the dynamic power of Brahman. Hence, Kali is Para Brahman in the feminine and dynamic aspect while Shiva is the male aspect and static. She stands as the absolute basis for all life, energy and beneath her feet lies, Shiva, a metaphor for mass, which cannot retain its form without energy.

 

While this is an advanced concept in monistic Shaktism, it also agrees with the Nondual Trika philosophy of Kashmir, popularly known as Kashmir Shaivism and associated most famously with Abhinavagupta. There is a colloquial saying that "Shiva without Shakti is Shava" which means that without the power of action (Shakti) that is Mahakali (represented as the short "i" in Devanagari) Shiva (or consciousness itself) is inactive; Shava means corpse in Sanskrit and the play on words is that all Sanskrit consonants are assumed to be followed by a short letter "a" unless otherwise noted. The short letter "i" represents the female power or Shakti that activates Creation. This is often the explanation for why She is standing on Shiva, who is either Her husband and complement in Shaktism or the Supreme Godhead in Shaivism.

 

To properly understand this complex Tantric symbolism it is important to remember that the meaning behind Shiva and Kali does not stray from the non-dualistic parlance of Shankara or the Upanisads. According to both the Mahanirvana and Kularnava Tantras, there are two distinct ways of perceiving the same absolute reality. The first is a transcendental plane which is often described as static, yet infinite. It is here that there is no matter, there is no universe and only consciousness exists. This form of reality is known as Shiva, the absolute Sat-Chit-Ananda - existence, knowledge and bliss. The second is an active plane, an immanent plane, the plane of matter, of Maya, i.e., where the illusion of space-time and the appearance of an actual universe does exist. This form of reality is known as Kali or Shakti, and (in its entirety) is still specified as the same Absolute Sat-Chit-Ananda. It is here in this second plane that the universe (as we commonly know it) is experienced and is described by the Tantric seer as the play of Shakti, or God as Mother Kali.

 

From a Tantric perspective, when one meditates on reality at rest, as absolute pure consciousness (without the activities of creation, preservation or dissolution) one refers to this as Shiva or Brahman. When one meditates on reality as dynamic and creative, as the Absolute content of pure consciousness (with all the activities of creation, preservation or dissolution) one refers to it as Kali or Shakti. However, in either case the yogini or yogi is interested in one and the same reality - the only difference being in name and fluctuating aspects of appearance. It is this which is generally accepted as the meaning of Kali standing on the chest of Shiva.

 

Although there is often controversy surrounding the images of divine copulation, the general consensus is benign and free from any carnal impurities in its substance. In Tantra the human body is a symbol for the microcosm of the universe; therefore sexual process is responsible for the creation of the world. Although theoretically Shiva and Kali (or Shakti) are inseparable, like fire and its power to burn, in the case of creation they are often seen as having separate roles. With Shiva as male and Kali as female it is only by their union that creation may transpire. This reminds us of the prakrti and purusa doctrine of Samkhya wherein prakāśa- vimarśa has no practical value, just as without prakrti, purusa is quite inactive. This (once again) stresses the interdependencies of Shiva and Shakti and the vitality of their union.

 

Gopi Krishna proposed that Kali standing on the dead Shiva or Shava (Sanskrit for dead body) symbolised the helplessness of a person undergoing the changing process (psychologically and physiologically) in the body conducted by the Kundalini Shakti.

 

DEVELOPMENT

In the later traditions, Kali has become inextricably linked with Shiva. The unleashed form of Kali often becomes wild and uncontrollable, and only Shiva is able to tame her just as only Kali can tame Shiva. This is both because she is often a transformed version of one of his consorts and because he is able to match her wildness.

 

The ancient text of Kali Kautuvam describes her competition with Shiva in dance, from which the sacred 108 Karanas appeared. Shiva won the competition by acting the urdva tandava, one of the Karanas, by raising his feet to his head. Other texts describe Shiva appearing as a crying infant and appealing to her maternal instincts. While Shiva is said to be able to tame her, the iconography often presents her dancing on his fallen body, and there are accounts of the two of them dancing together, and driving each other to such wildness that the world comes close to unravelling.

 

Shiva's involvement with Tantra and Kali's dark nature have led to her becoming an important Tantric figure. To the Tantric worshippers, it was essential to face her Curse, the terror of death, as willingly as they accepted Blessings from her beautiful, nurturing, maternal aspect. For them, wisdom meant learning that no coin has only one side: as death cannot exist without life, so life cannot exist without death. Kali's role sometimes grew beyond that of a chaos - which could be confronted - to that of one who could bring wisdom, and she is given great metaphysical significance by some Tantric texts. The Nirvāna-tantra clearly presents her uncontrolled nature as the Ultimate Reality, claiming that the trimurti of Brahma, Vishnu and Rudra arise and disappear from her like bubbles from the sea. Although this is an extreme case, the Yogini-tantra, Kamakhya-tantra and the Niruttara-tantra declare her the svarupa (own-being) of the Mahadevi (the great Goddess, who is in this case seen as the combination of all devis).

 

The final stage of development is the worshipping of Kali as the Great Mother, devoid of her usual violence. This practice is a break from the more traditional depictions. The pioneers of this tradition are the 18th century Shakta poets such as Ramprasad Sen, who show an awareness of Kali's ambivalent nature. Ramakrishna, the 19th century Bengali saint, was also a great devotee of Kali; the western popularity of whom may have contributed to the more modern, equivocal interpretations of this Goddess. Rachel McDermott's work, however, suggests that for the common, modern worshipper, Kali is not seen as fearful, and only those educated in old traditions see her as having a wrathful component. Some credit to the development of Devi must also be given to Samkhya. Commonly referred to as the Devi of delusion, Mahamaya or Durga, acting in the confines of (but not being bound by) the nature of the three gunas, takes three forms: Maha-Kali, Maha-Lakshmi and Maha-Saraswati, being her tamas-ika, rajas-ika and sattva-ika forms. In this sense, Kali is simply part of a larger whole.

 

Like Sir John Woodroffe and Georg Feuerstein, many Tantric scholars (as well as sincere practitioners) agree that, no matter how propitious or appalling you describe them, Shiva and Devi are simply recognizable symbols for everyday, abstract (yet tangible) concepts such as perception, knowledge, space-time, causation and the process of liberating oneself from the confines of such things. Shiva, symbolizing pure, absolute consciousness, and Devi, symbolizing the entire content of that consciousness, are ultimately one and the same - totality incarnate, a micro-macro-cosmic amalgamation of all subjects, all objects and all phenomenal relations between the "two." Like man and woman who both share many common, human traits yet at the same time they are still different and, therefore, may also be seen as complementary.

 

Worshippers prescribe various benign and horrific qualities to Devi simply out of practicality. They do this so they may have a variety of symbols to choose from, symbols which they can identify and relate with from the perspective of their own, ever-changing time, place and personal level of unfolding. Just like modern chemists or physicists use a variety of molecular and atomic models to describe what is unperceivable through rudimentary, sensory input, the scientists of ontology and epistemology must do the same. One of the underlying distinctions of Tantra, in comparison to other religions, is that it allows the devotee the liberty to choose from a vast array of complementary symbols and rhetoric which suit one's evolving needs and tastes. From an aesthetic standpoint, nothing is interdict and nothing is orthodox. In this sense, the projection of some of Devi's more gentle qualities onto Kali is not sacrilege and the development of Kali really lies in the practitioner, not the murthi.

______________________

 

HINDU GODDESS DURGA

Durga, meaning "the inaccessible" or "the invincible", is the most popular incarnation of Devi and one of the main forms of the Goddess Shakti in the Hindu pantheon. Durga is the original manifested form of Mother Parvati or Adi-Parashakti. Durga is Adi-Parashakti herself. The Devi Gita, declares her to be the greatest Goddess. Thus, she is considered the supreme goddess and primary deity in Shaktism, occupying a place similar to Lord Krishna in Vaishnavism. According to Skanda Purana, the goddess Parvati accounted the name "Durga" after she killed the demon Durgamaasura. Goddess Parvati is considered to be the complete incarnation of Adi Parashakti or Goddess Durga, with all other goddesses being her incarnations or manifestations. Adi Parashakti or Mahadevi, the supreme power, is called Durga Shakti as per Devi-Mahatmya. Adi Parashakti or Devi Durga is a Hindu concept of the Ultimate Shakti or Mahashakti, the ultimate power inherent in all Creation. This is especially prevalent in the Shakta denomination within Hinduism, which worships the Goddess Devi in all her manifestations. She is Goddess Lakshmi and Goddess Saraswati in her mild form; Goddess Kali and Goddess Chandi in her wrathful form. Durga is also called Padmanabha-Sahodari and Narayani, the sister of Lord Vishnu. According to Shaivism and Shaktism She is supreme, but to bring back lord Shiva in Sansar, she was reborn in human form (Sati and Parvati) to marry Shiva. Durga gave birth to his first child Kartikeya.

 

ORIGINS & DEVELOPMENT

Ramprasad Chanda writes the following about the development of Durga from primitive goddess to her current form:

 

"...it is possible to distinguish two different strata – one primitive and the other advanced. The primitive form of Durga is the result of syncretism of a mountain-goddess worshiped by the dwellers of the Himalaya and the Vindhyas, a goddess worshiped by the nomadic Abhira shepherd, the vegetation spirit conceived as a female, and a war-goddess. As her votaries advanced in civilization the primitive war-goddess was transformed into the personification of the all-destroying time (Kali), the vegetation spirit into the primordial energy (Adya Sakti) and the saviouress from “samsara” (cycle of rebirths) , and gradually brought into line with the Brahmanic mythology and philosophy."

 

It is not possible to date her The delusion of the supreme soul is otherwise called Shakti (power). From this power, generates all forms of knowledge of the world and it is accepted as vital cause of creation, existence and destruction. According to 'Shree Durga Shaptshati- Rahasyam', the original power is Mahalaxmi that created three pairs of Supreme Powers. They are Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva as male and Saraswati, Laxmi and Parvati as female, and they married respectively. Maha Saraswati is well known as Brahmani, Mahalaxmi as Vaishnavi and Mahakali as Maheswari. Durga Shakti is the original cause of all the present or past worldly occurrences. Durga Shakti is called as Adhyashakti, Paramatma Shakti or Ati Prakrutika Shakti. She is creating and controlling other two powers: Natural and General. Natural Power is called as Atma Shakti, Prakrutika Shakti, Pancha Mahabhuta Shakti etc. This Shakti creates and controls the General Energy. General Energies are called Jada Shakti or Tamashakti. By the blessings of Durga Shakti, the mother of the Universe, man is able to get his emancipation or salvation and indulge in enjoyments in performance of his daily activities. So Vyasadev, the eminent poet of "Devi Bhagwat", has aptly described "Rudrahinam Vishnuhinam na vadanti janastatha Shaktihinam Yathasarbe probodhanti Naradhamam". The powerless persons are despised as mean persons. So, by being devoted to the Supreme, we should be strong and powerful by her grace.

 

STORIES

Shiva Purana gives an account of the origin of Durga. At the beginning of time, Lord Shiva invoked Durga, the primordial energy from his left half to create. Together they created their eternal abode, Shivaloka, also known as Kashi. Thereafter, they created Vishnu and Brahma.

 

As per Shiva Purana and Devi Mahatmyah, Mahishasura, the son of demon Rambha, unleashed reign of terror on earth. When gods intervened, Mahishasura defeated gods and banished them from heaven. Vanquished gods went to Trideva- Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. As they narrated their woeful tale, immense mass of light manifested from Lord Vishnu's mouth, which was joined by similar rays that emerged from the enraged faces of gods. This mass of light transformed into a woman. Then all the Gods gave their devine weapon to that supreme power. Adishakti re-manifested as Durga to slay Mahishasura. Armed with celestial weapons of all deities and decked with divine ornaments, Durga rode into the battle field and challenged demons for battle. Mahishasura's entire army, led by demons like Chikshur, Chamar, Asiloma, Vidalaksha, Durdhara, Durmukha, Mahahanu and many more attacked Durga at once. But Durga slew all of them with unparalleled cruelty. An enraged Mahishasura attacked Durga in guise of a buffalo. But Durga bound it with ropes. The buffalo morphed into a lion and lept on Durga, but she beheaded it with her sword. At this, Mahishasura began to fight in form of a swordsman. Durga pinned him down with a torrent of arrows. Mahishasura now assumed form of a giant elephant and tugged at Durga's lion. Durga lopped off its trunk with her sword and freed her lion. The elephent turned into a buffalo and charged at Durga. Sipping from her wine cup, Durga flung her trident and beheaded Mahishasura, finally killing him.

 

WIKIPEDIA

I wasn't really a part of a PhotoWalk in St. Thomas; but I did take a road less traveled.... by foot. From the cruise ship, to the downtown area, most people take either a taxi or a bus. But because I have the uncontrollable urge to photograph everything, I decided to turn the trip into a 40 minute walk. It was worth it though; it made for some pretty nice pics.

 

With this being my first time in St. Thomas, I was quite surprised to see wild roosters and wild iguanas. The first iguana I saw was HUGE!!!! So I'm glad they're pretty much scared of humans, because those things are crazy fast. And they're pretty creepy when they run.

 

Disney Magic Cruise Ship

St. Thomas

 

My "Trip Report" on DisBoards

Insert more uncontrollable laughter here... My new D700 and 70-200mm VR f/2.8 constant lens :-) First accessory on the list.... lower key strap. (Thank you Wifey!)

 

Update: On Feb 10th, this shot made it to #32 on explore which is just really stupid...? How can this snapshot even make it on explore, and all of the really beautiful shots I see in my contacts streams not make it? Really makes no sense to me!

Jessica and Erin [Stranger #92/100]

 

This picture is #92 in the 100 Strangers project.

 

Meet Jessica and lil Erin.

 

This is one of the occasions where I had the background selected (a metallic rust/brown wall by a restaurant) and was hoping to find a striking stranger to photograph against it. After a little bit of looking I saw Jessica (and her family) having dinner. Jessica's brick red scarf and red hair would definitely work really well against the wall besides of course her happy eyes. But I was hesitant to approach them and intrude on their family dinner. However when I still noticed them a little while later just finishing up I stepped in and apologizing for interrupting their dinner made my request to Jessica (and of course to her husband Matt). They thought it was a interesting project and Jessica was happy to participate as Matt took over baby sitting for the few minutes with little Erin. We barely did a few a pictures away from the table but Erin began crying uncontrollably seeing her mom missing - so Jessica had to step back to soothe the little one. So we decided to do a few pictures with the little one as well and she was absolutely adorable - a star. One thing I missed is actually requesting Matt to step into the pics and make it a family picture - but in the rush to get in a few shots and let them get back to enjoy their family time I completely missed it. Also completely forgot to increase the aperture to ensure sharp focus on both mommy and baby. Either ways was happy with how the pictures worked out overall, Jessica's happy and cheerful disposition and lil Erin's late entry into the pictures certainly made this a fun encounter.

 

Jessica and Mat just moved recently from Florida and are trying out their new space. Jessica works with social media and online marketing. They love the outdoors and the beaches - possibly something they will likely miss compared to Florida.

 

Thank you ladies for being a part of this project and Matt for being such a sport. It was great to meet you folks and wish you all the very best especially as you settle down in MD.

 

Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page

For my other pictures on this project: www.flickr.com/photos/vijaybrittophotography/sets/7215764...

I often feel the urge to rant about something, the uncontrollable itch in my tongue to stand up and shout about God knows what. I'm not so foolish to believe that the subject matter has anything to do with it. These are times when what's being said has no meaning or focus; it's only the emotions that need to bleed out. Anger, frustration, passion and pressure. The words themselves are secondary to the volume, the gesticulation of limbs and the urgent expression of everything tied up inside.

 

I don't know what needs to be said. Don't just sit me down and tell me about your current set of concerns – let me know about the nervous tick and tired heart that gives away the truth of what's broken and bleeding inside of you. What is the issue, what's the hard truth? You're worried about society because you're afraid, you're terrified of sin because you're guilty, and you're concerned about friendships because you feel unloved. Let's not beat around the forest, I have no patience for that. A listening ear is only good if the truth is spoken to it.

 

Most of the hardest psychological frustrations we deal with are difficult because they have no easily identifiable cause. The auditory, visual, and otherwise sensory input is more than we can handle, because the world itself is a confusing place to live. Why do infants cry for seemingly no reason? For the same reasons we do. Because it's all too much, and it builds up slow or fast until we snap. We're broken, and we can't hold back. The shield gets cracked in the face of constant barrage, and I'm sick of pretending that that's not the way it is. We're hardly held together, we're all barely in one piece. If you can manage, please be loving. This might never get easier.

South Africa - the NG church ..

there was a devastating fire which burnt the most of the historic houses down beginning of the year 2019. It is suspected either a uncontrollable wildfire or arson responsible for the destruction .

When we came through the town, the fire was only 2 weeks ago, so everything looked very bad. I remember the town from long years ago, when it was really a beautiful clean historic town.

The NG church was one building which survived.

 

Wupperthal (sometimes also spelt Wuppertal) is a small town in the Cederberg mountains in the Western Cape province of South Africa. It was founded in 1830 by two German missionaries of the Rhenish Missionary Society (Rheinische Mission), Theobald von Wurmb and Johann Gottlieb Leipoldt, grandfather of C. Louis Leipoldt – some 100 years before the city of Wuppertal was formally established in Germany. In 1965, after the Rhenish Mission had gradually scaled down their activities in Southern Africa over a period of 40 years, a decision was taken that Wupperthal in future should become part of the Moravian Church, which by that stage had already made the transition from a mission to an autonomous church in South Africa. The town remains a Moravian mission station to this day. For more, please read: www.revolvy.com/topic/Wupperthal

Basanta Utsav literally means the 'celebration of spring'. ...

 

Annually celebrated in March, the festival is an occassion to invite the colourful spring season with utmost warmth. What is appreciated is the grace and diginified manner in which Vasant Utsav is celebrated in Bengal as compared to uncontrollable Holi witnessed in most parts of India.

 

The beautiful tradition of celebrating spring festival in Bengal was first started by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore at Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan.

 

Presenting Nitroburst, a Dark Hunter from the days of BIONICLE, Master of teleportation and radiation. His Rhotuka spinner irradiates the target, causing a throbbing headache and uncontrollable Spasms.

 

(Apologies for the crappy backstory, it was all i could think of :/ if anyone has any better ones, that would be helpful :D )

by Toshio Suzuki

 

"LONG FINAL! SHORT FINAL! STANDBY, KICK!" the pilot shouts.

 

The kick is actually a choreographed push, but regardless, cargo rolls out the back of the plane, parachutes fill with air and Alaska smokejumpers get their supplies.

 

This is what wildfire fighting looks like in Alaska, where everything is bigger, the fires are inaccessible and the BLM smokejumpers base looks like a small FedEx or UPS air operation. That is, if employees at those delivery companies did chin-ups at work and everything, including the staff, came with parachutes attached.

 

In the sphere of dropping heavy cargo by parachute, known as paracargo, there is no comparison to the Bureau of Land Management in Alaska.

 

The U.S. military, or course, with its far-flung global bases and huge aircraft, is proficient in paracargo.

 

After that, the BLM in Alaska drops more pounds of cargo via airplane and parachute than anyone else in the non-military world.

 

"We're the civilian kings of paracargo," says program manager Doug Carroll, who immediately pounds his chest playfully with his fists.

 

Smokejumper bases are numerous in the Lower 48, but large-scale cargo-think industrial-sized pallets of goods-is rarely needed because of an established network of access roads, explained Jim Raudenbush, chief of the BLM smokejumpers in Boise, Idaho.

 

"It's all remote up there-you can't drive your supplies to where you need them," said Raudenbush, who was in the 1982 rookie class of Alaska smokejumpers. "Out of necessity they've developed a very robust paracargo operation."

 

In 2014, during what was considered a slow fire season, Alaska smokejumpers based in Fairbanks dropped about 94,000 pounds of paracargo. The annual average weight for the past 10 years is closer to 280,000 pounds.

 

Training Drops

 

At the drop zone, in the hot and dried out Chena River floodplain, the first pass from the twin-propeller cargo plane seems to wake up the Alaska-sized mosquitos.

 

Covered in spray-on bug repellent, four smokejumpers on the ground set up a target for the training drops and radio the plane with wind speeds.

 

"Turning final for live cargo if drop zone is clear,"the plane radios back after planning an approach. The shadow of the Spanish Casa 8, coming in low at about 450 feet elevation, looms larger than the plane in the air.

 

Rescue from Above

 

A supply plane drops cargo over the Alaska tundra.

Once the cargo is out the rear door, the pallet is falling 8 to 12 feet per second with the aid of the massive round parachutes-three or four depending on the weight.

 

Some pallets crack upon impact, some end up on their side due to momentum, and all of them hit squarely with an anticlimactic thud no more than 30 yards from the bull's-eye.

 

The varying results from the mid-May training didn't surprise the crew members, who have seen hundreds of landings for those cargo pallets that individually weigh up to 1,300 pounds.

 

"When it is the same pilot with the same weight, same aircraft and using the same parachutes-it's almost in a vacuum-but still they get different results,"explained Gabe Lydic, a paracargo specialist and one of only five year-round employees.

 

"There's an art to it but at the same time, there's some variables that you can't control," he added.

 

CG for Safety

 

The art of flying with cargo comes down to center of gravity. If the freight shifts or isn't packed evenly, the results can be tragic, as a deadly 2013 crash of a military cargo plane in Afghanistan showed when it was caught on camera.

 

"Aft center of gravity is the worst scenario-it'll pitch up uncontrollably and there's no way to recover from it," said Russ McCafferty, a pilot for Alaska smokejumpers and paracargo.

 

Putting the heaviest cargo in the middle of the plane and the lightest near the back door keeps the aircraft even, said McCafferty.

 

Smokejumper loadmasters arrive at the empty plane via forklift, skateboard and cargo bicycle. Loading is meticulous trial and error because space is tight and the straps used for each pallet have to be a precise length to reach the rear ramp.

 

Once loaded, the pilot and smokejumper in the role of lead 'kicker' communicate the total weight and then make fuel calculations. For fires close to their base on the U.S. Army's Fort Wainwright, Alaska smokejumpers can load and deliver 5,000 pounds of paracargo in one hour.

 

Catching Air Since WWII

 

Smokejumper parachutes are painstakingly cared for, repaired and packed, because the cargo is priceless. Their craft is done in spacious, well-lit laboratories dedicated to parachute performance.

 

For those who obtain the title of senior parachute rigger, the Federal Aviation Administration even issues an official laminated license, which one Alaska smokejumper calls his "license to use a sewing machine." Most paracargo chutes began their careers as smokejumper chutes and were altered to have a larger diameter.

 

And some of those careers started in the World War II era, well before the Alaska smokejumpers had their first jump in 1959.

 

In a random grab of 35-foot paracargo chute bags, the first one pulled was from the Air Force and dated 1960, and the second was made in 1943 by the Irving Air Chute Company in Lexington, Kentucky.

 

Cargo for all Firefightgers

 

At Bill Cramer's smokejumper base, everyone jumps.

 

"It'll keep you honest," says the tall and lean Alaska smokejumper chief from his office that looks out onto the runway.

 

On the wall next to two flower paintings from his little girls he keeps a state map with numbered pins marking each of his over 200 jumps. Most of the pins are in the interior of the state, but there are a few strays in the Arctic Wildlife Refuge to the north and in the islands to the south.

 

"These guys deliver stuff up to the North Slope, they deliver things down to the Bering Glacier, and every place in between," said Kent Slaughter, BLM Alaska Fire Service manager.

 

If this scope of distance doesn't easily impress, some context for Alaska's dimensions: more than twice the size of Texas; more coastline than all other states combined; and the BLM alone manages a land mass in Alaska about the size of New Mexico.

 

It takes a lot of warehouse space, at least four contract planes and plenty of repetitive practice for Alaska paracargo to operate safely during a fire season that logs so many miles.

 

"Paracargo is one of the most dangerous things we do, but it's also one of the most common," said Cramer. The commonality is that all wildland firefighters in Alaska from all the diff erent agencies rely on the BLM's paracargo program.

 

If state firefighters need 1,000 feet of hose and pumps, or if Forest Service hotshot crews need an ATV and fuel - the call eventually gets made to BLM Alaska paracargo, where the phone is always answered the same way:

 

"Jumpers."

 

Link for story: www.blm.gov/or/mypubliclands/vol4/MPL_4_Rescue_From_Above...

Full PDF of magazine: www.blm.gov/or/mypubliclands/files/MPL%20Autumn%202015%20...

One of the elephants in Guruvayur Devaswom Elephant Sanctuary seems to thunder for freedom !

 

( The male elephant is probably in heat - 'musth' they call it here. At the time of heats a hormonal secretion can be seen near the elephant's ears and the animal becomes uncontrollable necessitating it to be chained ! I have waited for a while to take this snap for the elephant to trumpet ! Calling for a mate may be !! )

 

- Explored !

Strength and power come directly from intention and then action in that order, sure. But to break it down to more than that, it takes a deep harnessing of spiritual intention and activated genuine desire to do something to get anything genuinely done, good or bad. Desire is desire, like a river is a river, it flows no matter what to where it needs to go. Activated desire is like an uncontrollably flowing river that goes where it needs to go and wants to go. Desire is the power behind it all as a spiritual concept, especially when it is activated through purity of action, whatever it may be.

 

The way to harness life energy productively is to use it, no matter how it is used. Like a river uses the ground to move its water. Or a plant grows through being nourished by the river on the riverside. To increase, harness and control life energy this is all that is necessary in every genuine way.

 

Now sure, it begins with thinking and it ends with persistence and achievement. That simple. I am coming from a place of deep honesty, reality and practicality about the situation as it all really is.

 

So, when it is said, "by all means persist." That saying has been fully decoded for you here in this picture: The isolation of life energy in fully practical terms.

 

Taken: Hussaini Village, Hike back to KKH from Borit Lake, Upper Hunza, Near Passu, Northern Areas of Pakistan.

 

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Shooting straight into the sun produced some uncontrollable flare which proved difficult to correct. A bit of zany processing (been watching Serge Ramelli's tutorials!).

Achluophobia is the fear of darkness or dark places.

 

"It is common for many young children to be afraid of the dark because they think that there are monsters hiding under their beds and in their closets. Other children might even be terrified of the dark because of some of the nightmares that many children will have. These sorts of fears come about as a result of things that they don’t yet quite understand and this lack of understanding can be manifested into fear of the unknown, such as being afraid of the dark. Of course, this is usually easily taken care of by installing a nightlight, or the child will grow out of it as they get older and understand that there is really nothing there to be afraid of. However, there are many adults, both men and women, who have an uncontrollable fear of the dark and of what they can’t see. This fear can easily develop into a phobia that is known as achluophobia. People who suffer this will often suffer symptoms such as anxiety, nervousness, insomnia and/or sweating. If a person goes on suffering this for long enough without getting the help that they need from an online counselor, they will not be able to function properly in their lives as a result of their anxiety. "

 

-http://www.completecounselingsolutions.com/articles/138/What-is-Achluophobia%3F

  

To smoke, as an act of rebellion, while being a teenager, does not seem rebellious to me at all. It is ignorantly giving in to indoctrination from both the immediate circle of friends and the huge, aggressive cigarette manufacturers assisted by the media.

 

I have often reasoned with myself that if our teenagers want to rebel against society, if they strive to become independent and think for themselves, so why on earth do they fall like flies into the vicious nets of nicotine advertising pushers? Indoctrinators who don't give a damn about anything at all but their greed for money and power?

 

If our children achieve the understanding and grasp the fact that they are being utterly manipulated-- played smoothly like the play-dough they used themselves not too long ago-- in the hands of those guilt-free companies & fancy executives, would they let themselves be used without a fight?

These companies, who despite the hypocritical label "hazardous to your health" on their products, become more sophisticated in masking their bloody claws into trendy, polished palavers, all in order to get our children as fast as they possibly can and turn them into addicts for life, would our children then so easily fall into these well calculated traps? If they saw the catch in time?

 

Wouldn't our beloved children rebel against this despicable wickedness which robs them of their freedom, and in the long run of their heath as well, wouldn't they then boycott all those damned cigarettes? After all our children see us, their role models, adults who try numerous times to quit smoking, yet fail again and again and jeopardize our health. If only they would see the plot when there is still time.

 

My beloved Aunt started to smoke as a joke when she was only 16 y/o. Like everybody else she wanted to appear tougher than she was, she wanted to be popular. Throughout her life she inhaled large amounts of the addictive drug until her lungs were totally pierced and black with tar. She tried to quit smoking time after time, succeeded only for a week or so, went on smoking and continued to struggled for nearly 60 years. All in vain, she was doomed from her very first "supposedly innocent" cigarette.

I saw her agony, I saw her terrible suffering. I saw her die in horrible pain, totally in the merciless arms of the cruel lung cancer caused by nicotine.

 

If only our children could see in time the traps that are put out for them disguised as freedom of choice.

 

I still remember that cigarette which I deliberately took in order to aggravate my mom-- I was only 15 or 16 y/o at the time, it was my job to rebel against her, right?

 

It all started a few days earlier. Two of my high-school mates called me to have a cigarette with them in a hidden corner of the school yard. One of the girls, Yona was her name-- beautiful, thick long blond braid hanging heavily on her back, smart girl, bright in class-- was my idol, someone I looked up to and wanted to be as good as she, especially in mathematics, a subject I had always difficulties with. The other girl, Devorah, was already a smoker, as far as I can recall. Yona had always enough pocket money to buy cigarettes and so she offered me one. I took it and sucked on it, not really knowing what to do, but i didn't want to appear childish so I went on blowing some smoke. After a few minutes my mouth had a disgusting taste in it and I felt nauseated, however, I still didn't stop, all I wanted was to be like Yona, popular and at the top of our class. If she did it it was an act of boldness and daring which I admired.

 

I decided to buy a packet of mint flavored cigarettes, called Polaris at the time, mid 60's, and waited for the moment to confront my mother. The opportunity didn't take long to show up.

That Friday afternoon, after school was done for the week, Mom and I were sitting and discussing something which I can't remember now what it was. I opened my little brown leather purse, took out the unopened package of cigarettes, tore up the cellophane wrapping, pulled out a long, white cigarette, elegantly, so I thought, putting it in my mouth, waiting excitedly for the reaction of my strict disciplinary mother. I was ready for a wild fight and about to lit my liberating cigarette, my act of rebellion, when Mommy said very calmly:

"Alors, Poupetta, tu fumes maintenant?"... So I see that you have taken up smoking, huh..."

"Yes!" I said triumphantly, provocatively, anticipating the big revolution I had in mind, imagining my mother's fuming outburst and uncontrollable anger.

Well, come on, give it to me, Mom, my 15-16 years old energy boiled in me.

 

Well... I sat there, still holding onto that famous cigarette, but the spark from that friction I was delivering so eagerly didn't get on fire. Neither did my cigarette for that matter. It was simply dull. Mom said no more, so unlike her, I thought, she always lectured me, always. Why, only the other day she was praising Yona, who came for a visit, urging me to take after her studious nature, I who had nothing but the Beatles on my mind!

 

It was a total flat disappointment, no reaction was boring and so I didn't see why I should go on pretending I liked smoking when I actually despised the smell and taste of it. And if I couldn't even get Mom aggravated so why on earth bother at all.

 

"Here, Mommy, take it," I said handing her the brand new package of Polaris mint cigarettes.

 

I realize that drinking from the bottle is somewhat unladylike but ever since I was a little girl I learned to finish every bite of food and every drop of drink. It's also true that I've always had an oral fixation so maybe that has something to do with this late night photo as well. LOL

Just kidding so please don't think I'm an uncontrollable female wino. I was quite happy with the glass of wine in my right hand.

It's the long awaited album from the World Famous Beagle Scout!

 

Snoopy is at his musical best in "Beagle Scout Ballads", featuring 12 songs that will stir your passions for the great outdoors and romance!

 

1. Scout! My Love!

2. Pickin Berries at Knotts

3. Path To Your Heart

4. Magnetic North

5. Campfire Of Love

6. Follow Your Beagle

7. Climb That Mountain

8. Stormy Skies And Fries

9. Love Mile Hike

10. Flowers On The Trail

11. I Knew A Canoe

12. Trails

 

Here's just a sample sure to bring uncontrollable emotions:

 

🎵 "Waaa~~ WAwaWA wawa waaAAaa~~!!" 🎶

 

Wow!

 

Beagle Scout Ballads. Available now at all finer pet stores, veterinarians, root beer hangouts, and pizza joints.

 

•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Westland

Beagle Scout Heart Locket

Item No. 8258

 

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/53826612098/

 

NOS from the 90's.

 

Another of our favorite vendors from our days of our collectibles store is Westland Giftware. They had the loveliest line of Peanuts offerings.

 

I don't know if Westland is still in business but these figurines are a great legacy for them.

 

When all of the Peanuts figurines are lined up in a nice display it's truly amazing from their large ornate sculpts to their smaller figurines like today's heart locket off Snoopy as the Beagle Scout!

 

Previous Westland heart locket seen in BP 2024 Day 154!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/53764995994/

3 February at 13.00 - 16.00 Rasmussen Quinteto feat. Leo Minax

 

Sophisticated jazzy folklore based on the highlands of Brazil! Steen Rasmussen has once again invited Leo Minax, one of Brazil's great vocalists, to Denmark. Together they deliver contemporary Brazilian music as we know it from Gilberto Gil, among others. Sophisticated jazzy folklore based on Brazil's highlands,

Minas Gerais, where Leo Minax has his roots. In addition, they delve into the songs of the bossanova's first man, Antonio Carlos Jobim, which Leo Minax interprets uncontrollably beautifully. Line-up: Leo Minax (BR, voc, g), Steen Rasmussen (p), Lis Wessberg (tb), Bastian Sjelberg (b), Martin Andersen (dm) 10 February at 13.00 - 16.00

 

Leo Minax:

Born in Belo Horizonte, Brazil. He has a long path as a composer and performer. Restless and always open

to face new projects, has already published eight albums in Spain. In addition to his suggestive harmonies,

rhythmic richness and unique way of approaching composition, the artist’s work is also highlighted by the

texts of his songs, his creativity and poetic inspiration. In Brazil, he has worked with Arnaldo Antunes,

Toninho Horta, Vitor Ramil, Lô Borges, Ronaldo Bastos, Celso Adolfo, Vander Lee, Chico Amaral and

Moska, among others, as collaborators or co-authors.

 

The music of Leo Minax has already been recorded by Uruguayan Jorge Drexler, the Mexican Ximena

Sariñana, the Spanish Ana Belén, and the Danish Steen Rasmussen, with whom he has recorded several

recordings in recent years. He worked with many other great authors worldwide, such as Lisandro

Aristimuño, Francesca Ancarola, Javier Barría, David Aguilar, Pablo Guerrero, Diego Vasallo, Suso Saiz or

Pedro Guerra. He has toured in Japan, Ireland, Italy, Portugal, the United States, Holland, Denmark,

Germany, Mexico, Argentina, Chile, Ecuador, Brazil and Uruguay.

German Kucich

 

Born in Mar del Plata ,Argentina. He had published six albums as a leader and has already recorded and

traveled the world alongside internationally with renowned artists such as, Sonny Fortune, Frank Lacy,

Seamus Blake, Eddie Henderson, James Moody, Kevin Mahogany, Richie Cole, Tony Lakatos, Kirk

MacDonald, Deborah Davis , Toninho Horta, Perico Sambeat, Jeanne Lee , Bobby Martinez, Bob Sands, ,

Pedro Iturralde, Javier Colina and Philippe Caterine, among others.

Among his current projects we can highlight the German Kucich Trio with which he has just released the

CD Inside, the new OnBud project (quartet with the saxophonist Bob Sands dedicated to Bud Powell’s

music), and the Stravinsky Piano Duo with Hugo Foigelman with whom he recorded the two-piano

version of the Petrouchka ballet.

**View On Black** (Please Press "L")

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkxRgTPNVus

 

Où sont passés les années, le bon vieux temps

Les fou rires incontrôlés qu'on aimait tant ?

Je revois les personnages, qu'on n'oublie pas

Celle de la petite fille sage que j'étais pas

 

(Where have the years gone, the good old time

The uncontrollable laughs which we loved so

I see the characters again, which we don't forget

The one of the little smart girl which I was not)

  

Une ombre m'a frôlée de près, pour me voler

Prendre mon âme, mes intérêts

Laissez-moi, ça sa me dit pas

On est jamais trop sûr, je reste sur mes gardes

Tous les points de sutures, menacent et nous regardent

Je veux pas de blessures, pas de coups durs

Je préfère rien oser, me garder

 

(A shadow has brushed against me, to steal from me

Take my soul, my interests

Leave this to me, I don't care

One's never too sure, I'll stay careful

All the scarring wounds, menaces and looks at us

I want no wounds, no hard blows

I prefer to dare nothing, to keep)

  

On n'oublie pas l'origine, le développement

Qui restent et qui nous cheminent, fatalement

 

(One doesn't forget the origin, the development

Which stays and takes root, fatally)

  

© All rights reserved Anna Kwa. Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit written permission.

 

(more details later, as time permits)

 

**********************************

 

Some of the photos in this album are “originals” from the year that my family spent in Omaha in 1955-56. But the final 10 color photos were taken nearly 40 years later, as part of some research that I was doing for a novel called Do-Overs, the beginning of which can be found here on my website

 

www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/index.html

 

and the relevant chapter (concerning Omaha) can be found here:

 

www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/chapters/ch9.html

 

Before I get into the details, let me make a strong request — if you’re looking at these photos, and if you are getting any enjoyment at all of this brief look at some mundane Americana from 60+ years ago: find a similar episode in your own life, and write it down. Gather the pictures, clean them up, and upload them somewhere on the Internet where they can be found. Trust me: there will come a day when the only person on the planet who actually experienced those events is you. Your own memories may be fuzzy and incomplete; but they will be invaluable to your friends and family members, and to many generations of your descendants.

 

So, what do I remember about the year that I spent in Omaha? Not much at the moment, though I’m sure more details will occur to me in the days to come — and I’ll add them to these notes, along with additional photos that I’m tweaking and editing now.

 

For now, here is a random list of things I remember:

 

1. I attended the last couple months of 6th grade, and all of 7th grade, in one school. My parents moved from Omaha to Long Island, NY in the spring of my 7th grade school year; but unlike previous years, they made arrangements for me to stay with a neighbor’s family, so that I could finish the school year before joining them in New York.

 

2. Our dog, Blackie, traveled with us from our previous home in Riverside, and was with us until my parents left Omaha for New York; at that point, they gave him to some other family. For some reason, this had almost no impact on me. It was a case of “out of sight, out of mind” — when Blackie was gone, I spent my final three months in Omaha without ever thinking about him again.

 

3. Most days, I rode my bike to school; but Omaha was the place where one of my sisters first started attending first grade — in the same school where I was attending 6th grade. I remember walking her to school along Bellevue Avenue on the first morning, which seemed to take forever: it was about a mile away.

 

4. As noted in a previous Flickr album about my year in Riverside, I was a year younger than my classmates; but I was tall for my age, and thus looked “normal” at a quick glance. But because I was a year younger, I was incredibly shy and awkward in the presence of girls. Omaha was certainly not “sin city,” but by 6th grade and 7th grade, puberty was beginning to hit, and the girls had grown to the point where they were occasionally interested in boys. The school tried to accommodate this social development by teaching us the square dance (and forbidding the playing of songs by Elvis Presley, whose music was just beginning to be heard on the radio). I was an awful dancer, and even more of a shy misfit than my classmates; I continue to be an awful dancer today.

 

5. My bike ride to school was uneventful most days; but the final part of the ride was a steep downhill stretch on Avery Road, lasting three or four blocks. My friends and I usually raced downhill as fast as we could; but one day, my front bicycle wheel began to wobble on the downhill run, and my bike drifted uncontrollably to the side of the road and then off into a ditch. I got banged up pretty badly.

 

6. But this accident was nothing compared to my worst mishap: a neighborhood friend and I enjoyed playing “cowboys and Indians” in the woods near his home (and his younger brother usually tagged along). I had a bow and a few arrows for our adventure, and we often shot at trees a hundred feet away. Unfortunately, the arrows often disappeared into the underbrush (because we were lousy shots) and were difficult to find. Consequently, one of us came up with the clever idea of standing behind the “target” tree, so that we could see where the randomly-shot arrows landed. Through a series of miscommunications, I poked my head out from behind the tree just as my friend shot one of the arrows … and it skipped off the side of the tree and into my face, impaling itself into my cheek bone about an inch below my eye. An inch higher, and I would not be typing these words … (meanwhile, my friend's younger brother grew up to be an officer in the U.S. Air Force, and he tracked me down on the Internet, decades later).

 

7. In the summer of 1956, my parents decided to spend their summer vacation prospecting for uranium (seriously!) in the remote hills of eastern Utah, where my dad had grown up on the Utah-Colorado border. This entailed a long, long drive from Omaha; and it involved leaving me and my two sisters with my grandparents near Vernal, UT. My grandparents lived in a very small mining village outside of Vernal; and while they had electricity and various other modern conveniences, they also had an outhouse in the back yard. Trips to the “bathroom” in the middle of the night were quite an adventure. On the way back to Omaha at the end of this vacation trip (with no uranium ore having been found), we stopped for a couple of days of camping somewhere in the mountains of Colorado; you’ll see a couple of photos from that camping trip in this album.

 

8. There were no lizards in Omaha, and thus no opportunity for lizard-hunting with my slingshot—which had been a significant hobby in my previous homes in Riverside and Roswell. Indeed, there was almost nothing to shoot at … and I couldn’t find anyone with whom I could play (and hopefully win) marbles, to use as slingshot ammunition. But for reasons I never questioned or investigated (but about which I’m very curious now), there was a small vineyard in the field behind our house, and I was able to climb over the fence and retrieve dozens of small, hard, green grapes. They turned out to be excellent ammunition … but I never did find any lizards.

 

9. A few months before my parents left for New York, I told them about the latest craze sweeping the neighborhood: “English bikes,” with three speeds, thin tires, and hand-brakes. I desperately wanted one, but Dad said it was far too expensive for him to buy as a frivolous gift for me: at the time, English bikes had an outrageous price tag of $25. I was told that I would have to earn the money myself if I wanted one … and the going rate for young, scrawny kids who shoveled sidewalks, pulled weeds from gardens, and did babysitting chores, was 25 cents per hour. That works out to 100 hours of work … but I did it, over the course of the next few months, and when I got to New York, the first thing I did was buy my English bike.

 

10. Toward the end of my 7th-grade school year, everyone in my class was subjected to a vision test: we were lined up in alphabetical order, and one-by-one read off a series of letters that we could barely see on a large placard taped onto the classroom blackboard. Because my surname starts with a “Y,” I was usually near the end of the line … and by the time I got to the front, I had usually memorized the letters (because they never bothered to change them, from one student to the next) without even realizing it consciously. But on this particular occasion in 7th grade, for some reason, they decided to line us up in reverse alphabetical order … and I was the first in line. For the first time in my life, I realized that I could not see anything of the letters, and that I was woefully near-sighted.

 

11. When I got to New York, my parents took me to an optometrist to get my first set of glasses (and, yes, all of the neighborhood kids did begin taunting me immediately: “Four eyes! Four eyes!”) … and I’ve worn glasses ever since.

 

Three years after I arrived in New York, the glasses saved my vision when a home-brewed mix of gunpowder and powdered aluminum blew up in my face in the school chemistry lab (where I had an after-school volunteer job as a “lab assistant”). I suffered 2nd-degree burns on my face from the explosion, but the glasses protected my eyes. That, however, is a different story for a different time.

Well most folk after a flight with a parachute just scoop it all up into an uncontrollable bundle and stagger all the way up the hillside ready to jump off again ! Not so this chap , I watched him collect the breeze into the canopy and like flying a kite walked all the way up the hill to the top !!

This scene was observed at the top of the cliffs near to Beachy Head with Eastbourne just along the cliff . Just back along the path from where I am standing is the fairly new memorial to Bomber Command .

 

flic.kr/p/Pw7ZUs ( The Memorial )

I'm not sure it's the snow I enjoy the most, it's the uncontrollable reaction in the body language of the people going about their business.

"Got an urge got a surge

and it's out of control

got an urge I wanna purge

'cause i'm losing control

uncontrollable urge

I wanna tell you all about it

uncontrollable urge

makes me scream and shout it

it's got style it's got class

so strong I can't let it pass

I gotta tell you all about it

I gotta scream and shout it

and I say yeah

 

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeaaaayyy !!!! "

 

uncontrollable urge

(loud, and to its full extent)

 

Lomo Lca, Xpro CT Precisa, Nantes.

 

Prehistoric Gardens US-101, Port Orford, OR (where I mimic things uncontrollably).

muse? burden? a natural performer? an uncontrollable force?

Phase 9 of the X-15 program pushed the X-15A-2 beyond what it was designed to achieve. The structure needed heat protection and the addition of the external tanks and scramjet altered the flight characteristics of the aircraft. During deceleration on Knight’s fastest flight on 3 October 1967, he made a number of stability and control evaluation pulses to test the dynamics of the airplane/scramjet combination. Heating was so severe on the ventral fin from shock waves from the scramjet that much of the fin’s leading edge was burned away and the explosive bolts fastening the scramjet overheated and voluntarily fired, jettisoning the dummy engine. If any more of the fin had burned away, it would have made the aircraft uncontrollable. The ventral fin was repaired but the aircraft never flew again.

 

For the X-15A-2 variant, I changed the design of the canopy. This design is more faithful to the original design but lacks the correct profile. I thought it might be interesting to see the differences and highlight the design decisions Lego builders are confronted with. I usually go through several iterations and revisions before settling on the final design. Sometimes, I choose function over form and at other times the reverse is true. These are the choices that make one’s work unique.

**************************************************

A travesty of Justice

 

Based on an actual occurrence

 

We are looking for the name (Melody?) and hopefully a photo of a somewhat obscure actress of the early silent film era. She apparently was the victim of a jewel robbery. The robbery occurred either in her apartment suite, or a local speakeasy, in New York City. Her real name was never mentioned, only that she was the wife of a wealthy( apparently influential ) New York City Business man.

 

One weekend, while he was out of town, she left his South Hampton mansion and went out to sample the night life New York City for the weekend. During that time, she reported to police that she had been robbed in her penthouse suite by a masked burglar to the tune of 75,000 worth of jewelry... Police theorized that the lady had been followed home after being tipped off by someone on the hotels staff who saw her leave wearing the jewels. In what may have been a rather cruel twist of injustice, an elevator valet with a Juvenile criminal background was arrested for the crime, tried without any real evidence, convicted and put in prison. Years later He died under mysterious circumstances while still incarcerated in a New York Prison. The Ladies jewelry was never reported recovered. According to our source, the whole story was “hogwash”

 

Our source stated that her apartment was never “burglarized” and that she made up the story to prevent the insanely jealous husband she was involved with from finding out the truth.

 

According to our source “Melody “was a silent film actress who had married a well to do gentleman known both for his uncontrollable temper and for the lavish jewelry he bought for her. This lady had had been wearing some of her expensive jewelry while out on the town in N.Y.C. On this particular evening (sometime during the 1920’s) Melinda was being chaperoned for the evening by a male with a rather dubious background. This man was said to be a well-known City “raker”, a handsomely roguish man with a well-known reputation for escorting wealthy married ladies, as well as a reputation with the police as having connections with the underworld, mainly orchestrating burglaries. His given name was not mentioned. After attending a show and a couple of nightclubs, he insisted that “Melody” go with him to a local underground gambling joint for a few (then illegal) drinks.

 

Late that evening (or early morning), a group of masked hoodlums held up the speakeasy, and its patrons in attendance at the time. It was believed that they were mainly after the money being gambled. But not only did they take all the money, but they also made the richly attired ladies present hand over all their jewels. Including those being worn by, we believe, our mystery women who supposedly was being robbed in her apartment at the same time.

 

Two weeks later the Actress’s male escort, throat slit, was found floating in the Hudson River. When the body was fished from the river it was discovered that his ring finger had been hacked off. Possibly given to someone as a warning.

 

Since some of the male patrons in attendance were in the governments’ employ, Tammany Hall took over the investigation and apparently hushed up the whole incident. The full story never made it to the local newspapers, although supposedly the New Yorker Magazine had some questions (could not find any reference) No crime was reported, no one was arrested, nor any of the property ever “reportedly” recovered.

 

The above info was, told to us by an old vaudeville magician who had performed with a young lady whose stage name of Melody, this was all he could remember. She eventually became a silent era ‘B’ actress under a name he could not recall. He thought she may have had a minor role as an actress appearing in the 1911 silent film version of the Poseidon Adventure.

 

We have been searching in the New York Times, but have failed to turn up any related story to the speakeasy hold up. Although we did find a few similar stories about women being bound and robbed of their jewels, but no exact matches to the penthouse robbery so far.

We strongly believe, based on the vaudevillian’s story, that the Penthouse robbery never occurred. And the jewels that the elevator valet was accused of stealing were actually relinquished to one of the thugs that held up the gambling joint. The main clue we don’t possess is a name for the Lady. This would at least give us a starting point to investigate our theory.

 

If anyone out could shed some lights on this little mystery we would greatly appreciate it.

 

As a sidelight, the gambling joint’s robbery was closely reflected in the casino robbery scene from the movie” Uptown Saturday Night” Coincidence or not?

*******

 

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No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

   

Trigger warning; if you get too close, you're bound to start drooling uncontrollably.

 

1:64 GreenLight Collectibles:

1978 Dodge Ramcharger

Texas Department of Public Safety

Texas Highway Patrol

Hobby Exclusive

 

Atlantic Walk

2022 Law Enforcement Vehicle Show

Veterans Beach

City of Mystic Beach

Baynard County, Florida, USA

 

#CallingAllCopCars22

 

Olympus OM-D E-M5 Mark II

Olympus M.14-42mm F3.5-5.6 II R

 

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A Cast of Characters.

 

Ruin: I am starting again, this time with the Silverfish, re-writing yet again, I mean. At home, they do seem to have hugely diminished in number, like we have degraded their living space somehow, with plastics, Pfas, hormone disruptors, or whatever.

 

We have no way of knowing. It seems all we can do is record diminishing populations.

 

Rock: So, why are you starting with the humble silverfish, Ruin?

 

Ruin: Because they are ‘everything else’, the overlooked, an expression of the ‘Life Force’ easy to ignore, to consider a nuisance, to eradicate. They are that (not us) we call a nuisance.

 

The central idea here is the universal equality of all and everything, that there is no hierarchy, no pyramidal structure with God at the apex, and man below, given dominion over everything else it pontificates over. This also negates the idea of deity-ordained royalty and aristocracy at the apex of a human pyramid, down to the lowest of the low, the ‘unclean’, the undeserving.

 

Infinity manifests no preference in a world I want to describe into being. Dinosaurs, man and smaller/larger mammals, or the cockroach even, each in turn perhaps seeming to manifest a type of dominion, until they are eradicated, or they remove themselves even, subject to happenstance or stupidity, both uncontrollable, disregarding what are called ‘choices’. The host overrunning the body it infects would appear to be the ‘natural order'. It shows us that “red in tooth and claw” indifference of it all, described by Tennyson. I have decided to call this ‘beautiful’, a ‘terrible beauty” even, as that other Irish poet would have it.

 

Rock: Slow down, but why specifically a silverfish? Yeats, Tennyson, Shaw, Shakespeare (I see him coming), that, at the same time, sounds like another type of hierarchy to me.

 

Ruin: Just by dint of proximity, those silverfish, Rock. Because they are in my immediate environs, they have impressed themselves on me. I have watched them do their ‘possum’ thing, watched them panic and try to survive, when threatened by being exposed. I love that instinct, described by the character Falstaff (you are right, you know me too well), when he played possum on the battlefield.

 

"Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die is to be counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed."

 

First Part of Henry IV. Act V / Sc. IV. . Shakespeare

 

So, there they are, “the true and perfect image of life indeed”.

 

The Giant Silverfish is my Falstaff, see his image above. He could be any lifeform or gender, but he coaxed his way into being by intruding on my library. It would seem that you have to start with your own experience, you describe from your surroundings, from what impresses itself on you. I had no Agincourt, so my Falstaff fell out of a stack of books, playing possum.

 

Though it appears that there might be still time left for contemporary 'Agincourts', those potential killing fields promoting dominion rights.

 

Yes, you are right, there would seem to be a hierarchy there, unless you consider Plato, the silverfish, and Buster Keaton, the silverfish, and my favourite of course, Falstaff the silverfish, chewing over a good book together. I am afraid that I do.

 

Rock: And I fear that there is no hope for you. So, convince me, show me that world, and we can proceed from there.

 

Ruin: Maybe I will start here. Rock, meet Falstaff, the last remaining giant silverfish. You both have remarkable histories.

 

Vintage postcard.

 

On 16 April 2020, French Chanson singer and composer Christophe (1945) a.k.a. Daniel Bevilacqua has passed away. Christophe became famous in the early 1960s with his hits 'Aline' and 'Oh!... Mon Amour' which he sang in French and Italian. He died of complications by the Coronavirus at the age of 74.

 

Christophe was born Daniel Georges Jacques Bevilacqua in the Paris suburb of Juvisy-sur-Orge, in 1945. His father was an Italian-born building contractor. Daniel grew up to be an uncontrollable rebel. He hated school with a vengeance, complaining that his studies bored him to death, and by the age of 16 the young rebel had managed to get expelled from a dozen French boarding schools and 'lycées'. Like many other young teenagers in France, Daniel was bitten by the rock & roll bug in the late 1950s. he dreamed of launching his own music career and he devoted all his spare time to practicing guitar and teaching himself to play the harmonica. Daniel went on to form his first group in 1961, becoming the lead singer and guitarist of Les Hooligans. Danny Baby et Les Hooligans performed widely on the local bar and club circuit, playing covers of Gene Vincent songs and rock & roll classics such as 'Heartbreak Hotel'. In 1965, he changed his name to Christophe and had a massive hit with 'Aline'. This slow, romantic ballad proved phenomenally successful with the French public and went on to sell over 1 million copies. It was the smash hit of the summer of 1965. Following the phenomenal success of 'Aline', Christophe went on to record a whole string of hits such as 'Marionnettes' (1965), 'J'ai entendu la mer' (1966) and 'Excusez-moi Monsieur le Professeur' (1967). Another hit was the song 'Oh!... Mon Amour' which he sang in French and Italian. Christophe wasted no time in acquiring a rock & roll lifestyle to go with his new status as leading 60's pop star. The singer soon developed a real passion for sports cars, and he was often to be seen cruising around Paris in his collection of shining new Lamborghinis. Christophe eventually became so obsessed with fast cars and powerful engines that he ended up taking part in a Formula 1 race in 1968. He composed a part of the soundtrack of the film La route de Salina/Road to Salina (Georges Lautner, 1970). The song 'Sunny Road to Salina' returned years later on the soundtrack of Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol. 2 (2004).

 

After a small break, Christophe returned in 1971, with Francis Dreyfus launching the record company Disques Motor and becoming the producer of Christophe records. The results were the albums 'Les Paradis perdus' (Lost Paradises, 1973) and 'Les mots bleus' (Blue Wordsd, 1974) with lyrics by Jean-Michel Jarre). They marked a turning-point in Christophe's musical style, and also heralded a radical change of image. Christophe left his squeaky clean 'Boy Next Door' look behind, re-inventing himself as a decadent and flamboyant dandy. Christophe's singing style had also changed - gone were the days of pop idol seriousness, Christophe now sang in a detached, faintly ironic way, crooning his way almost sarcastically through his new hit 'Señorita'. This new-style Christophe appeared to go down extremely well with his fans. Indeed, when the singer performed at the prestigious Olympia concert-hall in Paris in November 1974, his show was greeted with rapturous applause and hysterical cries of 'encore'. Suffering from a bout of nervous exhaustion and depression, the singer soon acquired a destructive drug habit. In 1978, he came back with 'Le Beau Bizarre'. Christophe's career appeared to be heading into a downward spiral when his wife, Véronique, encouraged him to re-release his very first hit single 'Aline'. Véronique's suggestion proved to be a brilliant idea - in 1980 'Aline' catapulted Christophe back to the top of the French charts, and sold 3.5 million copies. In 1983, Christophe released the single, 'Succès fou' (Crazy Success), followed by the album 'Clichés d'amour' (1984) on which he sang the 1940s and 1950s classics such as 'Arrivederci Roma' and 'Dernier baiser', a French version of the Mexican classic 'Besame mucho'. In 1985, he wrote 'Ne raccroche pas' a song which is believed to be about the Princess Stephanie of Monaco. The following year, he wrote the song 'Boule de flipper' for Corynne Charby. In 1996, after a break, he returned with his album 'Bevilacqua'. It marked the beginning of a major Christophe comeback. For the very first time in his career, the singer wrote all of the songs on his new album, which revealed a more sympathetic, personal side to the public. Christophe, who had developed a passionate interest in synthesisers and techno, also explored the new possibilities offered by computers and he spent several months locked away in his home studio sampling voices and electronic sounds for 'Bevilacqua'. In 2001, he released another album 'Comm' si la terre penchait' (As If the Earth was Leaning At An Angle). This album confirmed Christophe's remarkable comeback and also proved his talent as an acute social observer and his ability to take new musical influences on board and weave them into imaginative new fusion styles. In February 2002, Christophe performed, in Clermont-Ferrand, his first live concert in more than two decades, followed by two appearances at the Olympia in March 2002. In 2011, Christophe took part in a tribute album for Alain Bashung two years after the latter's death. He sang 'Alcaline', a song written by Bashung in 1989 for his album Novice. Christophe released 14 studio albums in all, the most recent, 'Les Vestiges du Chaos', in 2016. As an actor, Christophe could be seen in Quand j’étais chanteur/The Singer (Xavier Giannoli, 2006) with Gérard Depardieu, Jeanne/Joan of Arc (Bruno Dumont, 2019) and a few short films. He played an angel in the yet unreleased film Sol y sombra (Dominique Abel, 2020) with Jacqueline Bisset. Christophe died of emphysema after being in critical condition due to COVID-19 associated with a previous comorbidity (COPD) on 16 April 2020. In the 1960s, Christophe was in a relationship with singer Michelle Torr. In 1971, he married his girlfriend Véronique Kan and they had a daughter, Lucie.

 

Sources: RFI Musique, Les Gens du Cinema (French). Wikipedia and IMDb.

French postcard by PSG, no. 1279. Photo: Disc AZ.

 

On 16 April 2020, French Chanson singer and composer Christophe (1945) a.k.a. Daniel Bevilacqua has passed away. Christophe became famous in the early 1960s with his hits 'Aline' and 'Oh!... Mon Amour' which he sang in French and Italian. He died of complications by the Coronavirus at the age of 74.

 

Christophe was born Daniel Georges Jacques Bevilacqua in the Paris suburb of Juvisy-sur-Orge, in 1945. His father was an Italian-born building contractor. Daniel grew up to be an uncontrollable rebel. He hated school with a vengeance, complaining that his studies bored him to death, and by the age of 16 the young rebel had managed to get expelled from a dozen French boarding schools and 'lycées'. Like many other young teenagers in France, Daniel was bitten by the rock & roll bug in the late 1950s. he dreamed of launching his own music career and he devoted all his spare time to practicing guitar and teaching himself to play the harmonica. Daniel went on to form his first group in 1961, becoming the lead singer and guitarist of Les Hooligans. Danny Baby et Les Hooligans performed widely on the local bar and club circuit, playing covers of Gene Vincent songs and rock & roll classics such as 'Heartbreak Hotel'. In 1965, he changed his name to Christophe and had a massive hit with 'Aline'. This slow, romantic ballad proved phenomenally successful with the French public and went on to sell over 1 million copies. It was the smash hit of the summer of 1965. Following the phenomenal success of 'Aline', Christophe went on to record a whole string of hits such as 'Marionnettes' (1965), 'J'ai entendu la mer' (1966) and 'Excusez-moi Monsieur le Professeur' (1967). Another hit was the song 'Oh!... Mon Amour' which he sang in French and Italian. Christophe wasted no time in acquiring a rock & roll lifestyle to go with his new status as leading 60's pop star. The singer soon developed a real passion for sports cars, and he was often to be seen cruising around Paris in his collection of shining new Lamborghinis. Christophe eventually became so obsessed with fast cars and powerful engines that he ended up taking part in a Formula 1 race in 1968. He composed a part of the soundtrack of the film La route de Salina/Road to Salina (Georges Lautner, 1970). The song 'Sunny Road to Salina' returned years later on the soundtrack of Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol. 2 (2004).

 

After a small break, Christophe returned in 1971, with Francis Dreyfus launching the record company Disques Motor and becoming the producer of Christophe records. The results were the albums 'Les Paradis perdus' (Lost Paradises, 1973) and 'Les mots bleus' (Blue Wordsd, 1974) with lyrics by Jean-Michel Jarre). They marked a turning-point in Christophe's musical style, and also heralded a radical change of image. Christophe left his squeaky clean 'Boy Next Door' look behind, re-inventing himself as a decadent and flamboyant dandy. Christophe's singing style had also changed - gone were the days of pop idol seriousness, Christophe now sang in a detached, faintly ironic way, crooning his way almost sarcastically through his new hit 'Señorita'. This new-style Christophe appeared to go down extremely well with his fans. Indeed, when the singer performed at the prestigious Olympia concert-hall in Paris in November 1974, his show was greeted with rapturous applause and hysterical cries of 'encore'. Suffering from a bout of nervous exhaustion and depression, the singer soon acquired a destructive drug habit. In 1978, he came back with 'Le Beau Bizarre'. Christophe's career appeared to be heading into a downward spiral when his wife, Véronique, encouraged him to re-release his very first hit single 'Aline'. Véronique's suggestion proved to be a brilliant idea - in 1980 'Aline' catapulted Christophe back to the top of the French charts, and sold 3.5 million copies. In 1983, Christophe released the single, 'Succès fou' (Crazy Success), followed by the album 'Clichés d'amour' (1984) on which he sang 1940s and 1950s classics such as 'Arrivederci Roma' and 'Dernier baiser', a French version of the Mexican classic 'Besame mucho'. In 1985, he wrote 'Ne raccroche pas' a song which is believed to be about the Princess Stephanie of Monaco. The following year, he wrote the song 'Boule de flipper' for Corynne Charby. In 1996, after a break, he returned with his album 'Bevilacqua'. It marked the beginning of a major Christophe comeback. For the very first time in his career, the singer wrote all of the songs on his new album, which revealed a more sympathetic, personal side to the public. Christophe, who had developed a passionate interest in synthesisers and techno, also explored the new possibilities offered by computers and he spent several months locked away in his home studio sampling voices and electronic sounds for 'Bevilacqua'. In 2001, he released another album 'Comm' si la terre penchait' (As If the Earth was Leaning At An Angle). This album confirmed Christophe's remarkable comeback and also proved his talent as an acute social observer and his ability to take new musical influences on board and weave them into imaginative new fusion styles. In February 2002, Christophe performed, in Clermont-Ferrand, his first live concert in more than two decades, followed by two appearances at the Olympia in March 2002. In 2011, Christophe took part in a tribute album for Alain Bashung two years after the latter's death. He sang 'Alcaline', a song written by Bashung in 1989 for his album Novice. Christophe released 14 studio albums in all, the most recent, 'Les Vestiges du Chaos', in 2016. As an actor, Christophe could be seen in Quand j’étais chanteur/The Singer (Xavier Giannoli, 2006) with Gérard Depardieu, Jeanne/Joan of Arc (Bruno Dumont, 2019) and a few short films. He played an angel in the yet unreleased film Sol y sombra (Dominique Abel, 2020) with Jacqueline Bisset. Christophe died of emphysema after being in critical condition due to COVID-19 associated with a previous comorbidity (COPD) on 16 April 2020. In the 1960s, Christophe was in a relationship with singer Michelle Torr. In 1971, he married his girlfriend Véronique Kan and they had a daughter, Lucie.

 

Sources: RFI Musique, Les Gens du Cinema (French). Wikipedia and IMDb.

Well its the last time i send him to get his eyes tested on his own....

 

this is the busiest time of year for me so ill get arond as often as i can...

 

we want to thank you all for your friendship over the past year ....

  

2008 is at the door..

remember, life is short..

break the rules ,

forgive quickly,

kiss slowly,

laugh uncontrollably,

and never regret anything that maks you smile......

 

Happy new year to you all my dear friends....

 

andrew xo.............

17/52 b a m

 

[taken August 28th, posted December 14th]

  

...on this day, i was sitting in my sister's car outside tilted kilt, waiting to head in to my brother's future wife's bachelorette party. It had been a rough few weeks of hubby traveling and i was in need of an adult beverage.

 

bachelorette parties haven't been on my radar for quite a few years, but it was sure to be a rare evening spent bonding with my sister and sisters-in-law, sans kiddos.

 

so in this shot i'm waiting for my nursing sister to pump and shovel food in her ravenous face and nagging her to hurry it all up. we were laughing uncontrollably at how impatient i was and how hungry SHE was and at the noise of the breast pump and....well...just giddy about our girl's night out.

Man can live without bread but not without water and if you pass by a Mumbai slum early morning through the winding lanes you can see women fighting for attaching their pipes to a a common public water connection and a huge crowd of women men children carrying canisters pots plastic bottles to get water .

 

The fights among the women in the slums can turn nasty violent and uncontrollable for water .

 

These two girls in my picture are collecting water from a broken water pipe on the road and are happy about it ..water is the necessity of life for drinking cooking bathing washing and to clan the buttocks .. the poor dont use paper as you guys do,.

 

So if you go to Carter Road you can see open defecation the homeless the taxi drivers rikshah drivers use the sea as open air breezy toilet .

 

And I have used the sea once when I had the runs on Murud beach shitting with the salt cool water touching your private parts no joy like it I believe and the sea foam stealthily kissing your cheeks ,

 

The kolis that live near coastal areas never made a toilet in their house as they had their Goddess and it was considered taboo so thy only used the sea or beach front ,

 

But things are changing hopefully.

  

Rosie Gaines - Closer Than close.

"Uncontrollable desire".

 

Oh a close up ... that reminds me ..., and that's how the music is chosen.

 

youtu.be/TKaXcQiwIL4

 

* Straight from the camera.

  

It says:

 

as much as i love introducing people to their music...i would never wish for someone to be this obsessed. being a Jonas fan is incredible. you meet new people, experience new things, get to go wild...but there's also a pain that comes with it. a physical pain. one that makes you cry when they're in trouble, hide when you're made fun of because you're a fan, uncontrollably look like a fool because you're irrevocably in love with someone who DOESN'T KNOW YOU LIVE.

 

Our secret, not our picture. DO NOT TAKE.

 

Want more of what you see? www.flickr.com/photos/ooedits2/

Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to inner peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

 

Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:

A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.

An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.

A loss of interest in judging other people.

A loss of interest in judging self.

A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.

A loss of interest in conflict.

Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.

Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.

Frequent attacks of smiling.

An increasing tendency to let things happen rather tan make them happen.

An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

 

WARNING:

If you have some or all of the above symptoms, please be advised that your condition of inner peace may be so far advanced as to not be curable. If you are exposed to anyone exhibiting any of these symptoms, remain exposed only at your own risk.

 

by Saskia Davis

Disturbing appearances

Crippling depression

Triggering thoughts

Uncontrollable selfharm

They give me numbing shots to prepare me for the shocktherapy treatment

I've never felt such an overwelming fear. My mind is blurred, i cant even speak, my body is shivering, my sweat is cold and my blood is freezing. I know I wont make it this time. My heart is too weak. There is no heartbeat left anymore...