View allAll Photos Tagged Untangling
We escape reality not to reject it, but to breathe within it. In the rush of obligations and noise, we seek refuge—whether in art, music, nature, or quiet moments that slow time. These escapes offer clarity, untangling thoughts and easing burdens, reminding us that life is more than demands.
Stepping away renews us, giving perspective and space to dream. Reality Escape is the bridge between exhaustion and restoration, where the weight of the world dissolves, if only for a moment. In that pause, we rediscover who we truly are.
Male Stag beetle - I remember when i found him he was tangled in a ball of dog hair in the park. I picked him up and carefully unpicked it all from his legs with a stick and then put him down and got to take a few pictures
Conditioning Felt Like Love
It was always him.
And it was always me
twisted into what he wanted.
He’s looking at me,
like he’s seeing me
for the very first time!.
Like I’m some kind of wonder
like he’s not worthy
to be in my presence.
Hand cupping my face,
his voice low, reverent—
“Who are you?”
A pause.
A breath.
“Are you an angel?”
he murmurs against my lips.
" you will be My Sin"
And in my head,
a random, fleeting thought:
If I am an angel,
I’m going to be your undoing.
But I don’t say it out loud.
I just start digging.
He tasted of ecstasy
with a hint of bitterness.
And I drank it down
like a woman dying of thirst.
Limbs tangled in performance.
He fed me pleasure
laced with control.
A moment frozen
not because it was beautiful,
but because I couldn’t move.
His hands were soft
when he needed them to be.
His lips were weapons
dressed up like a kiss.
“I feel your pain,”
he’d whisper.
As if he was my healer
when he was really
the wound.
“Let me take it from you,”
he said.
And I thought he meant the pain.
But he meant everything.
Every memory.
Every part of me
not yet claimed.
He didn’t just want my body
he wanted my silence.
My compliance.
“Come on, Diddles,”
he cooed, voice syrupy and slow.
“Let’s heal together.”
And I believed him.
Teeth to throat.
Fingers trailing bruises
in the shape of worship.
And I called it passion.
Every time I cried,
he tasted the salt
and called it love.
Every time I hesitated,
he pushed further,
until I stopped saying no.
I was taught
to perform for him.
To moan in all the right places.
To beg like I wanted it.
And when I finally came,
I didn’t know
if it was desire,
or defeat.
That’s what abuse looks like
when it’s masked
in moans.
It feels like love
until you realize
he choreographed
the entire dance.
He was the master
of mixed signals
the "yes" wrapped in fear,
no disguised as teasing.
I thought I had power
in the way I arched my back.
But he was the Puppet Master,
pulling strings
I didn’t even know existed.
And
I confused
surrender
for intimacy.
I confused
control
for connection.
I let him call it love.
Until I learned
that love doesn’t
demand obedience.
Doesn’t script your voice.
Doesn’t train your body
to respond
on command.
He didn’t just take my consent
he rewired it.
And I am still
unlearning
the choreography.
Still untangling the knots
he tied around my identity.
Still peeling
his fingerprints
from the places
I thought were mine.
This is for the OurDailyChallenge theme 'Too many to count'. As for the title, I think paperclips may be up there with christmas lights on having to get them untangled.
I
And above all else, to look with innocence. As if nothing was happening, which is true.
II
But you, I want to look at you until your face escapes from my fear like a bird from the sharp
edge of the night.
III
Like a girl made of pink chalk on a very old wall that is suddenly washed away by the rain.
IV
Like when a flower blooms and reveals the heart that isn’t there.
V
Every gesture of my body and my voice to make myself into the offering,
the bouquet that is abandoned by
the wind on the porch.
VI
Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you will be and scare the girl you once were.
VII
The night of us both scattered with the fog. It’s the season of cold foods.
VIII
And the thirst, my memory is of the thirst, me underneath, at the bottom, in the hole,
I drank, I remember.
IX
To fall like a wounded animal in a place that was meant to be for revelations.
X
As if it meant nothing. No thing. Mouth zipped. Eyelids sewn. I forgot.
Inside, the wind. Everything closed and the wind inside.
XI
Under the black sun of the silence the words burned slowly.
XII
But the silence is true. That’s why I write. I’m alone and I write. No, I’m not alone.
There’s somebody here shivering.
XIII
Even if I say sun and moon and star I’m talking about things that happen to me. And what did I wish for? I wished for a perfect silence.
That’s why I speak.
XIV
The night is shaped like a wolf’s scream.
XV
Delight of losing one-self in the presaged image. I rose from my corpse, I went looking for who I am.
Migrant of myself, I’ve gone towards the one who sleeps in a country of wind.
XVI
My endless falling into my endless falling where nobody waited for me –because when I saw who was waiting for me I saw no one but myself.
XVII
Something was falling in the silence. My last word was “I” but I was talking about the luminiscent dawn.
XVIII
Yellow flowers constellate a circle of blue earth. The water trembles full of wind.
XIX
The blinding of day, yellow birds in the morning. A hand untangles the darkness, a hand drags
the hair of a drowned woman that never stops going through the mirror. To return to the memory of the body,
I have to return to my mourning bones, I have to understand what my voice is saying.
Alejandra Pizarnik
My old haunt when fishing for bass!, Great spot and lovely even in wind and howling gales where my fingers were numb with the cold when trying to untangle my line!.
This is where I untangle my mind, and of course there is surfing that will make your legs stronger and your nights longer because its hard to quit playing in the waves ... big thanks to Maoli Waves for your creations. There is no end to the joy and peace these waves bring to my life. ♥
"What are we doing today? A lot of undoing. Yesterday tied me in knots so I was hoping you were good at untangling?"
Animals are professional untanglers!
Rusty barbed wire lines these fields
Gravel dust behind the wheels
Drifting like my mind into the rearview
Jet trails cutting across the sky
I'm rolling through the open wide
Searching for a song to drink beer to
And trying to find a place to disappear to
Embers in the ashtray glow
like memories that won't let go
I'm out here trying to get 'em untangled
In the darkness on the edge of town
A little lost, a little found
Waiting on a call from an angel
I light up the night and let it burn
Lean back and watch the sundown fade
Do what I do when life's a little sideways
I take a sip and say a prayer
Wait for a shooting star and stare
Off at the headlights on the highway
That guy in the windshield looking back looks just like me
But there's a crack in the reflection
This is just a moonlight soaked, ring of smoke
Right hand on a cold one confession
-FGL
“Art is entangled with life with the aim of untangling life by making it clear to itself.”
-This statement by Francis Slade is quoted by Sokolowski in “Visual Intelligence in Painting,” 346.
We untangled the net,
slit open the body
from hinge of the tail
to beneath the chin:
I would just as soon
we let the living
go on living
and so we paused
among dark cattails
and prayed
for the muskrats,
for the ripples below their tails,
for the little movements
we knew the crawdads were making
under water, for the still
carcasses resting on ice.
We prayed for the road ahead,
night coming on, twin headlights
dissipating in rising fog,
a little empty inside
a little sad knowing
and not knowing.
--M deO
(thinking of FW & JW)
The dark-eyed junco is a species of the juncos, a genus of small grayish American sparrows. This bird is common across much of temperate North America and in summer ranges far into the Arctic. It is a very variable species, much like the related fox sparrow, and its systematics are still not completely untangled. Wikipedia
Some threads which I found in my drawer. I think, that they are already impossible to untangle... ;)
Smile on Saturday - theme: "Entangled" :)
We had travelled to U-Bein near Mandalay to photograph the sunrise over the U-Bein Bridge. While the light was still a rich, golden colour we watched this couple working their fish nets through the shallow water behind them. They eventually dragged the nets onto shore and began to extract small fish and untangle the nets. The golden light illuminated them nicely.
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no real concept behind this so i will leave this for you to interpret on your own.
side note: you don't know how hard it was to untangle this. took about 10 minutes.
~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~
I was just coastin', never really goin' anywhere
Caught up in a web
I was gettin' kind of used to stayin' there
And out of the blue
I fell for you
Now you're liftin' me up, 'stead of holdin' me down
Stealin' my heart, 'stead of stealin' my crown
Untangled all the strings 'round my wings that were tied
I didn't know him and I didn't know me
Cloud nine was always out of reach
Now I remember what it feels like to fly
You give me butterflies
~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~
[MSN Design] Emelia Outfit BLOG
LEGACY,
MAITREYA,
REBORN
WAIFU
*CORSET
*SKIRT
*OUTFIT TEXTURE HUD
~*~
Pose Name: Fragile
Thank you for purchasing!
If you have any questions or problems, please contact Mr Menna.
Tangle Creek, Jasper National Park, Alberta
Just one of the many cascades forming Tangle Creek Falls.
"Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs--
leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star" Rilke
This evening's sunset colours at Holy Corner - looking opposite from the sunrise hitting the church picture you can see next - glorious sunrise and stunning sunset, bracketing the brief, winter day (dark here now just after four in the afternoon). Busy day at work, but I could see this out of our window, and I took just a moment to step outside and snap these quickly with the phone, as the skies were all afire. Gone in moments, but so beautiful while it lasted, we need to drink in these magical moments when they come past us.
Sunlight shines through a gnarled mass of trees on the way to Milford Sound in New Zealand. Flickr renaissance anyone?
I've found this nest of entangled old cotton thread in the middle of old sewing notions given to our charity... the tools are rusted and the threads are breakable and I'm not sure I can untangle this ball of thread... it's just good enough for a photograph!
Under the plate is a quilt I've made more than 20 years ago...
Exclusive ABSEN -ADEL- BLOG
I was just coastin', never really goin' anywhere
Caught up in a web
I was gettin' kind of used to stayin' there
And out of the blue
I fell for you
Now you're liftin' me up, 'stead of holdin' me down
Stealin' my heart, 'stead of stealin' my crown
Untangled all the strings 'round my wings that were tied
I didn't know him and I didn't know me
Cloud nine was always out of reach
Now I remember what it feels like to fly
You give me butterflies
eBODY REBORN
MAITREYA,
Legacy,
PERKY
ABSEN INFO -
Evening, Wedding, Biker, Gothic & Casual wear.
~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~
::R.Bento:: Blossom Bento static poses
Main store will be moving to a new sim
-R.Bento- store
Owner: Rou Aurelia
Co-Owner: Rbentostore resident
The dark-eyed junco is a species of junco, a group of small, grayish New World sparrows. This bird is common across much of temperate North America and in summer ranges far into the Arctic. It is a very variable species, much like the related fox sparrow, and its systematics are still not completely untangled.
Sony ILCE-7M2 | Lensbaby Burnside 35
This is a repeating image but the light, color and haze changes each day, sometimes hourly. This is my record of these changes. For reasons I have yet to untangle my camera stopped recording the color in these accurately--as if it didn't believe what it was seeing. Since these began as raw images that shouldn't have happened. I spend time, however, matching through post-processing the color on my computer screen against the scene outside my window. The color and luminosity are accurate.
When I planned my Arizona trip, the Grand Canyon Railway was not a factor at all in my decision making process. While I would be in the area of Williams for two nights, I decided to treat their southbound return trip as a bonus, if I happened to be otherwise untangled from shooting the Transcon and Peavine.
As it turned out, the trickle down effects of maintenance of way windows near Flagstaff and Yampai resulted in relatively few trains on Saturday afternoon. With the first clear sunset of my trip shaping up to the west, I knew I could knock off some shots of the returning GCRY trip without missing much or anything on the normally busy mainline, in the golden hour.
Upon arriving at the closest grade crossing to Williams, I discovered a local fan already staking out the scene. He confirmed that the train hadn't passed yet, and we commenced chatting. In the following minutes several other carloads of photographers and tourists pulled up and spread out around the crossing. My surprise must have been visible, so my new friend iterated "It's the first Saturday of the month." as if this was to mean something to me. Still not getting what he meant, he clarified that on the first Saturday of each month, the Grand Canyon Railway powered their excursion train with one of their steam locomotives. No sooner had this registered, then the stack talk of the approaching Mikado became audible.
I did my best to crouch down out of the line of sight of the ragged photo line, and shot the above image. Unfortunately the train is coasting downhill at this point, so the only steam emitted from the locomotive was that from the whistle.
The dark-eyed junco is a species of the juncos, a genus of small grayish American sparrows. This bird is common across much of temperate North America and in summer ranges far into the Arctic. It is a very variable species, much like the related fox sparrow, and its systematics are still not completely untangled. Wikipedia
Danbo untangles his Christmas tree lights.....with a little help from his friends.
You can sing along too
It’s good to feel you are close to me in the night, love,
invisible in your sleep, intently nocturnal,
while I untangle my worries
as if they were twisted nets.
Rising, you will be that other, alive in the dawn,
but from the frontiers lost in the night,
from the presence and the absence where we meet ourselves.
-Pablo Neruda, Nobel Laureate, Chilean Poet (1904-1973)
MY DAILY TREK 8/16/08:
Today I ventured out on my daily trek around 6 PM. I thought I would take some pictures in the field behind my house, then go check for turtles at the creek and then head over to a local lake. I got to the field behind my house and made my way to an area of rocks surrounded by weeds and wildflowers. I took a seat on a familiar rock and watched and waited as things buzzed by me and the wind blew a warm breeze through the wildflowers. I saw bees, dragonflies, grasshoppers and butterflies. But nothing out of the ordinary or at least that I felt compelled to photograph. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a ferocious movement accompanied by a loud buzzing sound, which then stopped suddenly. This movement and sound would start and stop every few seconds. It was too far away for me to make out, but from a distance it looked like a caterpillar caught in a web. But caterpillars don't make sounds? The buzzing was a unique sound that once you have heard you will likely not forget. It was the sound of a cicada. A cicada? A cicada caught in a web? I thought to myself, no way, there is nothing big enough to eat a cicada. I made my way over to the buzzing movement and sure enough it was a cicada caught in a spider web. I was going to take a picture but he seemed like he was near the end of his fight and I figured I would leave him in peace.
As I looked closer, I saw an insect graveyard full of mummified victims, beneath this web of death. Several cicadas and grasshoppers had met their demise here and their mummified carcasses lay haphazardly discarded beneath the web. Slowly my heart started to beat faster. What was eating these huge insects? As I took a moment to ponder what kind of Jurassic beast this might be...I looked several feet in front of my face and was struck by a bright yellow and black pattern behind a leaf. Is that a SPIDER???? I backed up. My heart beating faster I looked at this creature in disbelief. I have never seen a spider this big in the wild. Now keep in mind, I am not scared of many things. I like insects of all kinds, reptiles, snakes, frogs, toads, turtles...you name it. I am also a huge horror movie fan and can stand watching most horror flicks without a flinch. But this creature, this beautiful monster, with striking colors, and sprawling legs made me feel a tad light headed. I was sure it was some kind of venomous beast that could jump 50 feet and was going to attack me with malice at any moment. I would soon be paralyzed by its venom, doomed to become yet another mummified trophy, entombed in silk and discarded amongst the other unlucky victims. Get a grip on yourself I thought. It's just a spider. I took as many pictures as I could, moving closer in and then quickly out as my fear came in waves. Slowly, as I snapped photos, zoomed, used macro, changed positions, my respect for this spider increased. What a magnificent, striking and amazing insect! I left in awe, another day in the wild, tackling Jurassic arachnids in the insect jungle that has become my second home. The best part, I learned something new. I found an insect that was new to me and learned as much as I could about it. That is the silver lining every time I come home with new pictures. I continue to learn about this great earth and it's creatures. When you start paying attention to all the details around you it opens up a whole new world. I just hope the Golden Garden Spider doesn't mind me poking around her world while she weaves her silken web. Did I mention, like almost all other spiders, Argiope are harmless to humans. Like most garden spiders they eat insects, and they are capable of consuming prey up to 200% of their size! Yikes, how much do I weigh again?
Members of a fishing village in Pagudpud, Philippines untangle and prepare their fishing nets for the late evening fishing offshore to catch small tuna.
Rusty barbed wire lines these fields
Gravel dust behind the wheels
Drifting like my mind into the rearview
Jet trails cutting across the sky
I'm rolling through the open wide
Searching for a song to drink beer to
And trying to find a place to disappear to
I light up the night and let it burn
Lean back and watch the sundown fade
Do what I do when life's a little sideways
I take a sip and say a prayer
Wait for a shooting star and stare
Off at the headlights on the highway
That guy in the windshield looking back looks just like me
But there's a crack in the reflection
This is just a moonlight soaked, ring of smoke
Right hand on a cold one confession
Embers in the ashtray glow
Like memories that won't let go
I'm out here trying to get 'em untangled
In the darkness on the edge of town
A little lost, a little found
Waiting on a call from an angel
I light up the night and let it burn
Lean back and watch the sundown fade
Do what I do when life's a little sideways
I take a sip and say a prayer
Wait for a shooting star and stare
Off at the headlights on the highway
That guy in the windshield looking back looks just like me
But there's a crack in the reflection
This is just a moonlight soaked, ring of smoke
Right hand on a cold one confession
Light up the night and let it burn
Lean back and watch the sundown fade
Do what I do when life's a little sideways
I take a sip and say a prayer
Wait for a shooting star and stare
Off at the headlights on the highway
That guy in the windshield looking back looks just like me
But there's a crack in the reflection
Hope he's moving in the right direction
This is just a moonlight soaked, ring of smoke
Right hand on a cold one confession
For 'Macro Mondays' theme of 'Spiky'.
So in the same box that I found the old dog's brush was his rather battered and worn metal comb. Certainly, not his favourite when used to try to untangle something in Alfie's fur.
Nevertheless when upright on my desk-top and lit the comb makes a mystery if not abstract photograph.
So where has the colour come from - comb held upright on a piece of white paper on a wooden desktop, and a grey cutting board. Just keeping it simple, stupid - (KISS) - a message to self.
Leitz Elmar f3.5 5cm enlarger lens .................... well less than 2 inches
Geneva – Japan Tobacco International building
JTI – Japan Tobacco International is the international tobacco division of Japan Tobacco, a leading international tobacco product manufacturer. The company is headquartered in Geneva, Switzerland and sells its brands in 120 countries.
As of 2011, JTI employed about 25'000 people around the world at 90 offices, 24 factories (producing cigarettes), six research & development centers and five tobacco processing facilities.
(46.22183, 06.14530); [90°]
I don't know why, but this reminded me (in some roundabout way in my head) of the album cover to Christopher O'Riley's Hold Me To This (if I untangled it all).
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It’s good to feel you are close to me in the night, love,
invisible in your sleep, intently nocturnal,
while I untangle my worries
as if they were twisted nets.
Withdrawn, your heart sails through dream,
but your body, relinquished so, breathes
seeking me without seeing me perfecting my dream
like a plant that seeds itself in the dark.
Rising, you will be that other, alive in the dawn,
but from the frontiers lost in the night,
from the presence and the absence where we meet ourselves,
something remains, drawing us into the light of life
as if the sign of the shadows had sealed
its secret creatures with flame.
( Pablo Neruda)
Happy Valentine ! www.goear.com/listen/e5be20e/tango-suite-for-2-guitars-ta...
Dans le cadre du festival de street art « Murs Grands Ouverts » organisé pour les 20 ans de l’opération Paliss’art, une fresque murale monumentale a éclos dans le nouveau quartier Paradis Express, en plein développement sur l'esplanade des Guillemins. Œuvre de l’artiste britannique PREF, elle vient compléter avec brio le catalogue artistique de l'opération Paliss'art.
Les peintures typographiques uniques de Pref sont reconnues dans le monde entier. Cet artiste est un explorateur de mots et de phrases. Il joue avec les lettres en les contorsionnant et en les tissant, nous imposant un exercice de déchiffrage, de démêlage des mots et de détection de leur message.
« Shake Hands » "Serrer la main" se déploie donc sous nos yeux dans ce style tissé et dans un effet de trompe l'oeil, surgissant du mur. Cette phrase qui évoque la collaboration, toute relation qui commence et se termine par une poignée de main, symbolise aussi le « tissu » de notre société, les fondements de notre culture.
A quelques pas de la gare des Guillemins, une fresque brillante, audacieuse et colorée qui annonce donc d'emblée un geste d'amitié et d'accueil pour toute personne qui arrive à Liège.
Voisine de la Design Station, elle dialogue de façon pertinente avec les sensibilités et l'esthétique du design, tout en reflétant ses couleurs chatoyantes dans les fenêtres du bâtiment qui l'abrite.
As part of the street art festival "Murs Grands Ouverts" organized for the 20th anniversary of the Paliss'art operation, a monumental mural has been created in the new Paradis Express district, in full development on the Guillemins esplanade. Work of the British artist PREF, it brilliantly completes the artistic catalog of the Paliss'art operation.
Pref's unique typographic paintings are recognized worldwide. This artist is an explorer of words and phrases. He plays with the letters by contorting them and weaving them, imposing on us an exercise in deciphering, untangling words and detecting their message.
"Shake Hands" "Serrer la main" unfolds before our eyes in this woven style and in a trompe l'oeil effect, emerging from the wall. This phrase, which evokes collaboration, any relationship that begins and ends with a handshake, also symbolizes the "fabric" of our society, the foundations of our culture.
A few steps from the Guillemins station, a brilliant, audacious and colorful fresco which immediately announces a gesture of friendship and welcome for anyone arriving in Liège.
Neighboring the Design Station, it dialogues in a relevant way with the sensitivities and aesthetics of design, while reflecting its shimmering colors in the windows of the building that houses it.
This is not the panorama I had envisaged in my mind. But it's been a while since I last stopped off here and i had forgotten that the soldiers don't face exactly where I thought. I suppose it was Guy Martin's Channel 4, Arctic Warriors, programme this week that made me think of going to the Commando Memorial while my wife got her hair done.
I did want the panorama to only have the commandos in shot against a panorama of snow covered mountains. I extended my tripod to full height and clipped my D750 to the top set on self timer (20 seconds, and with rear preview screen set facing downwards. Pressing the shutter button, I hoisted the tripod so that just the bottom of the legs were in my hands and then reached my arms above my head so that the camera ended up about 11-12 feet above the ground. Peering up I tried to aim the camera whilst using the level guide on the screen. Whilst my hands froze I got my shots, but as of yet I haven't untangled the miriad of shots and merged them together successfully. In the meantime you get the ordinary perspective, albeit in a panoramic format.
Cette plante pousse sur tout le pourtour méditerranéen. Elle est sauvage et les paysans la cueillaient autrefois parce que son cœur était comestible et avait un peu la saveur et la consistance de l’artichaut. La plante fait d’ailleurs partie de la famille de l’artichaut. Elle donne une grosse fleur qu’il n’est pas rare de découvrir, une fois sèche, à la porte des maisons des vieux villages.
Elle s’ouvre en effet, en son centre, comme le tournesol, pour capter la lumière solaire. Mais le cœur se resserre lorsque l’humidité tombe et que la pluie s’annonce.
C’était donc pour les observateurs avertis qu’étaient les bergers, un baromètre qui permettait de prévoir la météorologie.
Ce chardon porte le nom familier de cardabelle. Les bergers se servaient de ses feuilles épineuses pour démêler la laine de leurs bêtes.
This plant grows all around the Mediterranean. It is wild and the peasants used to pick it because its core was edible and had a bit of the flavor and consistency of the artichoke. The plant is also part of the artichoke family. It gives a large flower that it is not uncommon to discover, once dry, at the door of houses in old villages. It opens, in its center, like a sunflower, to capture sunlight. But the heart sinks when the humidity drops and the rain begins. So it was for informed observers that the shepherds were a barometer that predicted the weather. This thistle bears the colloquial name of cardabelle. The shepherds used its thorny leaves to untangle the wool of their animals.