View allAll Photos Tagged Unblinking
It's now two years since Willum died. He was a much loved member of the family and is still missed by us all.
Looking through the archives I found this photo of him to post. So typical, half in, half out of the shadows and that direct, unblinking gaze.
Remembering you Willum
Better Large !
Kodaikanal is one of my favorite places that are most picturesque and beautiful. My visit there was very memorable and gave me some of my best photos. This man I saw standing outside a Hindu temple. He drew my attention immediately. He had wrapped himself in a shawl and his head with a muffler. He was stoic. His eyes so blank, unblinking, unmoved and almost eerie. His sunken cheeks, gray eyebrows and beard revealing his years of endurance. He stood like a statue though surrounded by so much hustle and bustle around the temple.
All rights reserved - ©KS Photography
All images are exclusive property and may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, transmitted, manipulated or used in any way without written permission of the photographer!
Like | Follow | Subscribe
SUE - Juna Artistic Tattoo
SUE Tattoo - JUNA ARTISTIC TATTOO NEW @ Original Vogue Event - October 25th October- Closed 10th November
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/First%20Kiss/68/221/23
The skinny on the Sunflower. A water nymph named Clytie was in love with Apollo who was in love with Daphne, who wanted nothing to do with Apollo. Apollo the louse did his Sun God thing and traveled across the sky every day in some blinged out chariot. Clytie watched him unblinking for 9 days. When he wasn't making the sun shine he was laying it on thick to Daphne who said "basta" and asked her father, the River God, Peneus who help her out. He turned her into a plant. Probably not what she was hoping for. Apollo was despondent. Clytie still perched on that rock starving, unblinking, and watching Apollo drift across the sky was turned into a Sunflower. As you know the Sunflower's head actually turns to follow the Sun as it makes it way across the sky....
Other stuff:
PLAAKA Sunflower Round
*LODE* Head Accessory - Peony Crown [yellow]
*LODE* Head Accessory - Vines [green]
*LODE* Head Accessory - Flying Forsythia & Butterflies
.:villena:. - (Maitreya) Leotard - Black
Paddy, lying in the snow .. he quite liked that .. holding me with those tangerine eyes of his, unblinking and intense
Alligator, Alligator mississippiensis, basking in morning light on boulders imported from a few hundred miles updip to line the pond in Wetlands at Riverstone. About 5ft, 1.5m from snout to tail. He/she (I can’t tell) remained motionless, even unblinking for my 10 minute photo session. There was a larger one lying just offshore.
Happy Friday the 13th!
13 May 2022; 08:15 CDT; Velvia SOOC,
250;44;7 Explore #167, 13May22, ^166/220514
Autumn winds stripped barren all the trees,
As the icy Winter Queen stepped up her savage siege,
With cold unblinking eyes, on calculated cue,
She told Mother Nature precisely what to do-
[[ DOUX ]] Bellami
[[ Just Because ]] Priscilla Gown - Reborn
[[ LeLUTKA ]] Gaia head
I see you, and I'm always watching.
The lovely septum piercing and bindi are the Third Eye set from Evil Baby! What do you think? Should I make the bindi a permanent addition?
In a shadowed underpass of Szczecin, a mural peers back at the world with a sly grin on the idea of self-image. Maciej “Kreda288” Jurkiewicz paints a surreal figure offering its own head to a camera’s unblinking lens, turning the selfie into both satire and spectacle. The wall breathes with wit and unease, a reminder that sometimes art sees us more clearly than we see ourselves.
....near the train station in Galway City. We're accustomed now to security cameras, but the juxtaposition of the camera and this rather creepy window somehow struck me.
And they did. Right smack dab in the middle of the road, then stood there unmoving, unblinking, like statues.
I watched as a couple in a truck approached, stopped and waited.....and waited.....and waited.
The man honked his horn....and waited and waited....
Cranes stood.
Man laughed and got out of the truck walking towards them clapping his hands.
They ruffled not a single preened feather.
He looked at me, I shrugged and said beats me, I never know what to do when they get like this.
He had to finally shepherd them off the road.
The cranes and people in our community are used to each other and get along well. But every now and then.........sheesh!!
The water spills down the rocks like memory, fractured, relentless, and cold. Trees lean in, cloaking the scene in green silence, but the sound of the falls drowns everything else. It’s not peaceful. It’s persistent. The kind of place where something was lost, not buried. The rocks are slick with time, the flow too steady to be innocent. You don’t hear birds here. You hear the echo of names no longer spoken. The path leads in but not out. And the falls, ancient and unblinking, do not cleanse. They erase.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
As the walk round the fields is becoming a bit too familiar in way of photo opportunity I thought I'd dig out my old 55mm manual macro lens and have a play down by the river with it and an attentive Paddy! As it's only a 55mm I had to get ever solo close, and bless hexwas unblinking as he had his eye focussed on the bit of straw in my hand. View Large!
In the hush after day’s work, six horses wander the open pasture near a favorite guesthouse in Iceland. The sky drapes them in soft color, light catching on their manes like threads of fire. One stands facing me, still and unblinking, while the others graze without notice. I was lucky to meet them in this unguarded hour—a quiet assembly held between earth and sky.
In the still waters of a shadowed marsh, a silent predator glides just beneath the surface, its ridged back and unblinking eyes the only hints of its presence. The calm ripples betray no urgency, only the quiet menace of something ancient and patient. This black and white photograph captures the eerie tension of a moment suspended in time, where nature and nightmare blur. The creature’s form evokes myth and mystery, a lurking monster in plain sight.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLv3pouVbyg
Roger Taylor
God would weep
If he existed
And he saw what man can do to man
He'd think that we were twisted
His unblinking eye would blink and then
He'd say not in my name you don't
You stupid little men
With your arrogance and ignorance
You do it time and time again
I must be getting old
There's a fire and a fury
Driven deep into my soul
It's the helplessness that comes
From being under your control
And everything is broken
We got the High Street full of holes
The High Street's full of holes
High Street's full of holes
Five million cameras stare at us
They treat us like we're fools
Our privacy is meaningless
We're suffocating by ten thousand rules
This Kingdom's not united
Just a complicated mess
Are we in Europe
Half in Europe
Not in Europe
We're soulless, spineless, directionless
I must be getting old
There's a fire and a fury
Driven deep into my soul
It's the helplessness that comes
From being under your control
And everything is broken
Stylophone!
And everything is broken
Why send our young men out to die
In wars that we don't understand
Why on earth should we be meddling
In places like Afghanistan
The price is much too high
In terms of money or our precious men
Your reasons are mysterious
And quite beyond ken
I must be getting old
There's a fire and a fury
Driven deep into my soul
It's the helplessness that comes
You even sold our gold
And everything is broken
Despite its mechanical nature, the robot's posture betrays a semblance of desperation. It moves with a jerky, unsteady click, driven by an unspoken need that transcends its programming. It scans the surrounding shadows with what could be mistaken for a pleading gaze if one were to attribute human emotion to its unblinking lenses. The city, with its towering skyscrapers and endless labyrinth of grime-coated alleys, feels oppressive and indifferent.
♫ ♬ ♫ ♪ ♩ Lorde - Green Light (Montell2099 & SACHI Remix)
FEATURE | CYBER FAIR September 3-23 2024
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/ACCESS%202/124/123/1504
‣‣ [R2xSAC] Goku - MP18PLUS Poses
‣‣ R2LX Raimei NP1 [Silver]
‣‣ [SAC] MP18 PLUS Pistol v1.03 FULL Box(Wear Me!)
‣‣ TROPIX // ROBOT's LAST PLEA 01 SCENE WITH LIGHT
EXTRA CREDIT
*Bolson / Tattoo (Mix'Em) - Natsumi
LewDie - Muscle Arms Slim (Legacy F)
Round Pond From Giant, Adirondacks, NY. The forest finally opened, but to a steeper climb now, until I reached a small cliffy area that offered a lateral ledge at the top. I followed it off the trail and looked back at the spectacle below me. A weather system stretched to three horizons. The contours of the landscape were defined in shades of green, in brightness and shadow, in uplift and glaciation. Deep in the valley, a single sapphire of water glimmered, an unblinking eye in the emerald fabric. The sun had risen and illuminated the valley in a broad ray of hope. Hope held back a sky full of uncertainty, lit a path full of shadows, lifted a heart full of defeat. Hope speaks, but maybe it's only the words you want to hear, not necessarily true. When I walked the valley and climbed those ridges, I bathed in hope, and believed what it said. But I am far from the valley, a cloud hangs over me, and I can't shake it right now.
At the entrance of the Temple of Hope, the two guards stood eternal, towering against the burning sky. The gateway itself was a marvel of Egyptian art—columns like papyrus stalks, walls alive with sacred hieroglyphs whispering ancient prayers. Hope dwelled within, a living flame hidden deep at the temple’s heart, and the gods stood as its unbreakable shield.
Their eyes, dark as the void between stars, saw beyond flesh, piercing into the soul of every being who approached. No hatred, no bitterness, no shadowed heart could pass them. They judged not by words, but by the silent weight of one’s intent. Those pure of purpose might be allowed to glimpse the inner sanctum, where Hope’s light grew brighter with every act of kindness in the world.
But for those who carried malice, the gods became immovable walls, cold and implacable. They would not strike, for their presence alone was enough to turn away even the boldest destroyer. Legends say their spirits stir when the air trembles with deceit, their forms seeming to shift, ready to awaken should Hope ever be truly threatened. Until then, they stand—unblinking, unwavering—the final guardians of humanity’s last flame.
“The villagers who lived near the Blackdark Forest called it the Weeping Cottage, though none alive could say why. It wasn’t marked on any map and there weren’t any roads leading to it. Everyone claimed to know someone who'd seen it – a shepherd boy lost at dusk, a hunter returning late or an archer from another village. The descriptions of the house varied, although all of them described a single, unwavering point of yellowish light, like a watching eye, glowing behind a thick wooden door. It never flickered like a candle or fire. It never moved. And it appeared regardless of weather – piercing through fog, shimmering in rain, or casting its faint, baleful reflection onto the stagnant pond on clear, starless nights. The place utterly avoided, seemingly abandoned for generations, yet always occupied by that single point of light. Was it a witch's lantern? A ghostly remnant? Or was the cottage itself somehow alive, watching the forbidden woods with its unblinking eye?
No answers came…”
This is my entry to Summer Joust 2025, "Where No One Dares Go" category. Hope you enjoy it!
P.S. Still water jokes are welcome.
This is a McLaren 765LT Coupe.
Introducing the new McLaren 765LT. Born from fearless supercar engineering.
cars.mclaren.com/en/super-series/765lt
Aggressive. Pure. Created with singular vision
At McLaren, we do not fear the unknown. We do not fear the challenge. The new McLaren 765LT has a legend to live up to: Longtail. Every car that's carried this name has been unique. Extreme and utterly focused around the driver. All about maximum engagement. Searing performance. Sensational handling.
Uncompromising. Singular. Focused. shaped by the pursuit of driving purity. The 765LT. Taking the perfectly formed 720S closer to the edge. With a powerful presence and aggressive design language that deliver incredible performance. Less weight. More downforce. Aerodynamic innovation. Bespoke carbon fibre body panels shape an iconic elongated profile. Suspension is lowered. And the front track is wider. The message is clear: nothing gets in the way of dynamic ability. Everything is here for a reason. Inside the McLaren 765 Long Tail, the unblinking sense of purpose and minimal clarity continue. There's lightweight Alcantara®. And the seats used in the awe-inspiring McLaren P1™. Sculpted carbon fibre is everywhere. The Longtail story continues.
And this is the most powerful LT yet, with a shattering 765PS. Just 765 will ever be produced. For the lucky few, the next chapter is beginning…
www.caranddriver.com/mclaren/765lt
The McLaren 765LT is a supercar that makes track performance a priority and lets most creature comforts fall by the wayside. With a 755-horsepower twin-turbocharged V-8 mounted amidships, it’s wickedly quick, and its lightweight construction makes it a missile around the racetrack. Its “LT” name refers to the fact that it’s a “longtail” version of the 720S, with which it shares many components. The simplistic interior has a no-nonsense feel, and the standard retractable convertible top on the Spider version adds a bit of weight but shouldn’t detract too much from the pure driving experience.
Special car, supercar
Photo By: Cate Infinity
📍Location: Drone Haven
Skies weep with no sound,
Empty streets hold shattered dreams,
Echoes of the past.
Faded voices drift,
Where the wind whispers alone,
Dust rises, unheard.
Ghosts of life once bold,
Wander in the dying light,
City’s breath grows cold.
Windows stare, unblinking,
Cracked and worn, yet never weep,
As the hours creep by.
Silent drums of loss,
Beat beneath the hollow sky,
Where no feet will tread.
The hum of old machines,
Flickers once more but fades fast,
Dying lights reflect.
Hope, a distant thought,
Sinks into forgotten soil,
Roots in dust remain.
The city's heart still,
A pulse beneath the ruins,
Waiting for a sound.
🎬 Production Credits 🎬
Sim Build: Myrdin Sommer
Story Creators: Cate Infinity, Myrdin Sommer, Dia G
Robot Creators: Poppy Morris, Myrdin Sommer, Balaclava
Sound Engineers: Christo Winslet, Poppy Morris
Produced By: Cate Infinity of The Refuge Productions
If it's you, then it's me
and when it's you
I can clearly see
all that we can truly be
if only life could let it be
so to Spring we now turn
as if Winter never happened
upon our lowest ebb
the question answers instead
for the puzzles that lie ahead
of all we roam in sickness and in health
this is no ordinary world, or life at that
for every unblinking stoke
of the fire of silhouetted Oak
within the given hope it may invoke
it's the unflinching stipulation of life over departure
fluvial or landbased, aviating dreams earthbound
every reason is contraindicative
meandering flight of aquatic contrail still active
we're here to stay so long as we can forgive...
..any reason under the Sun
why we shouldn't celebrate a world
of yours, of mine, of one of a kind
that offers the path when combined
to the place so desired and divined.
by anglia24
12h10: 02/04/2008
©2008anglia24
North Is Robin ( Petroica australis ) Often as one walks in the bush this fellow will suddenly appear as if from nowhere stares unblinking for a while then carries on its way....
Yellow breasted Tit ( Petroica macrocephala )
Friendly little bird of the bush that appears suddenly if from nowhere to stare with unblinking black eyes....
Yet I always feel at peace somehow when accompanied by them...
As if somehow all is well with things....
North Island Robin Petroica longipes ) Suffering like most wildlife.
I know of a few local areas where a few birds hang on precariously.
They are such a joy, suddenly appearing with those jet black eyes unblinking..A lovely bird and companion in the bush....
My body altered with alien DNA, my whole being conditioned to accept servitude as pleasure, disobedience as pain.
Eyes unblinking and solid black... with alien eyes I stare blankly froward as the reality of the situation hits me, the mark on my face signifying my name and function.. Pi Delta 436.7.
I have learned from my conditioning, to comply is to survive. There will be no one to save me, no rescue, no escape from this strange world.
I am a Pi Delta and must comply.
NZ Robin, ( Petroica australis ) Its always that unblinking black eye that holds me spellbound with these gentle birds... Tame, trusting and highly vulnerable to predation.....
In 1914, I emerged from the Oliver Typewriter assembly line, my keys gleaming and new, poised to transcribe thoughts onto paper. Soon, I was crated and shipped to the new Vancouver Sun Newspaper, finding my place in the bustling newsroom on the desk of a seasoned reporter named Barry McRyan. Day after day, amid the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and coffee, Barry's nicotine-stained fingers pounded my keys, crafting story after story. Initially, the mood buzzed with excitement, tales of burgeoning businesses flocking to the harbor city, now easily accessible to Europe through the newly constructed Panama Canal. However, as 1914 progressed, the mood darkened, and I found myself narrating stories of escalating global tensions.I vividly recall August 5th, 1914, sensing a shift in Barry's demeanor. His fingers hesitated on my keys before typing out the ominous declaration: "World at War with Germany." Over the years and decades, countless stories flowed across my platen, each one leaving its mark. Owners came and went, until eventually, I was replaced by a sleek, modern machine, devoid of paper. Reporters tapped its keys while staring, unblinking, into a box of light. Eventually, I found myself in a storage room where I languished, gathering dust and forgotten as the decades passed.Now, in 2024, I find myself in the hands of Jim, a photographer who cherishes the nostalgia of vintage typewriters. With meticulous care, he dismantles me, cleaning my type bars, linkages, and gears, restoring my functionality. I feel a surge of excitement, knowing that once again, I will fulfill my purpose, transcribing thoughts onto paper.
Nikon Nikkormat with Ilford HP5 1600iso
Contact and my links
A thousand squares of borrowed light, each a cage of night. Glass eyes stare out, unblinking, cold, a million stories waiting to unfold. One small figure walks below, a tiny, fleeting shadow in the concrete row. Are they free, or simply walking a larger, grayer cell?
Greta stood in the moonlight, her skin pale as fallen snow, untouched by time or warmth. Her hair, silken and colorless, flowed like frost through her fingers, catching the faintest glimmer of silver from the night. But it was her eyes, red as a blood moon, ancient and unblinking, that marked her as something more than mortal, a creature of haunting grace and quiet hunger.
Sponsored By Yoshi Eyes
Hol II Eyes and Eyes Addon
FREE for group members, until October15th
Taxi: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Full%20Throttle/223/96/1182
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
------ BLOG CREDITS ------
• \\NeonSheep// - Alfreda Crown
• .ET. Cersei (Reborn) Red
• -Influence-FlatAss Deformer UPDATE
• / HEAD / lel evox / AVALON 4.0
• *AvaWay* BRIGID Earrings Set for lel Evo X F Human Ears
• REBORN by eBODY v1.69.6
• / GUMS / TEETH / lel evox 4.0
• / EYES / lel evox 4.0
• Vibing -- leah rings -- gold -- ebody linked
• WINGS-Gift 02-Famale-HAIR M
• UNHOLY MEGAERA HEAD CHAIN - COPPER
• Not Found- Greta Skin
--------------------------
Little Owl / anthene noctua. 15/08/19.
‘LOCKED ON.’
From it’s perch on an old weathered headstone, the Little Owl was completely locked on to something below it. Standing motionless it glared down for several minutes with it’s lemon yellow, unblinking eyes.
So deep was it’s concentration, I considered slowly exiting the car and crawling closer, using gravestones for cover. However, although tempting, it would have been a foolhardy, selfish move on my part if the bird had seen me. I couldn’t risk spooking this contented little hunter who had performed so well.