View allAll Photos Tagged Untethered
I'm catching up after three weeks off the grid while in Antarctica during the austral summer. It was an amazing journey to such an incredibly beautiful and wild continent. This photo is from a two-day crossing of the notorious Drake Passage between the southern tip of South America and Antarctica. Heavier seas sent a huge spray over the bow of our ship — the National Geographic Explorer. The morning sun created a rainbow effect in the spray. However, don't let this photo mislead you. Other than some heavy seas for a few hours, most of our journey both ways across the Drake Passage was pleasant and beautiful.
I am anxious to share many more photos from this trip and also a two-week trip to Cuba I took shortly before this. I'll also welcome the opportunity to see the beautiful photos I've missed here while untethered to the Internet for so long on these journeys.
As always, thank you for your visits, faves, and/or comments. It is appreciated. Last, but not least, thanks for sharing your photos. They are a source of joy, learning and inspiration for me!
Nomad continues his wandering off to far away places. I don't think a train is going to pull into this station anytime soon.
location
Digital Art -Cammino e Vivo Capovolto
Check out the Nomad Series on my Blog
Edit August 18 2021
Nomad 5: Train To Nowhere
He knows that he loves the taste of Youtiao and was even able to chat with the vendor in Cantonese. He feels like he knows even more languages. Yet he cannot remember what his name is, where he is from or what he does for a living.
He returns to the one place that he knows. There he stands at that apartment that he woke up in. A key in his pocket opens the apartment door, confirming that he lives here. The drivers license on the kitchen table tells him that his name is John Nomadonia. He looks good in the photo.
Still groggy he looks around for clues. He finds a briefcase under his bed. He pulls the briefcase out, resting it on the mattress he opens it. He finds more identification cards in the briefcase, more driver’s licenses and 6 or 7 passports. His name can also be Harold Johnson, Samuel Krypinksi, Ivoceno Rossini, Michael Richardson, Christian Maldini or Julio Vargas.
What the hell? Either I’m a spy or some kind of international hit-man or something. “OK , I can’t.. my head ... need sleep” He is assured that he is at a place that belongs to him, maybe his apartment or a safe house. He lays back on the bed , closing his eyes.
Suddenly he is outside again. It’s raining… no it’s pouring. Gray statues stand before him in the hundreds. The lightning above brightens the sky and shines off of the water at his feet. Ankle high water floods the entire area for as far as he can see. A piano sits in the open space. Clocks floating in the air untethered. A child's tricycle rides past him, self-powered apparently. A train track leads into the water and disappears on one direction. In the other direction it leads through a gate and into what looks like a tunnel, but is actually just a black painted wall. It's a train to nowhere. The statues on the tunnel tell him that there has not been a train on these tracks for a very long time.
He starts to spin, then realizes it’s not him spinning, it’s everything else. A 6 foot bat flies toward him and begins to talk to him. He chuckles at a weird thought “look it’s batman.” The 6 foot bat disappears leaving just a crow on the tricycle. The crow speak English. The crow tells him, “find the documents, they took the hard drive, she’s likely dead. You have to find them.” The spinning worsens, he stumbles and falls. As he hits the ground he awakens. He is at the apartment again, in the bed that he thinks is his. “What the hell, what a weird dream. I must have really hit my head hard.” He turns his to see a crow outside on the ledge by the window.
Hello human!
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Silence has set us free from being objects of our own awareness.
-An Ocean of Light Contemplation, Transformation, and Liberation, Martin Laird, O.S.A.
Untethered now….to fly.
-rc
The hot air balloon is the first successful human-carrying flight technology. The first untethered manned hot air balloon flight was performed by Jean-François Pilâtre de Rozier and François Laurent d'Arlandes on November 21, 1783, in Paris, France,[1] in a balloon created by the Montgolfier brothers.[2] The first hot-air balloon flown in the United States was launched from the Walnut Street Jail in Philadelphia on January 9, 1793 by the French aeronaut Jean Pierre Blanchard.[3] Hot air balloons that can be propelled through the air rather than simply drifting with the wind are known as thermal airships.
close the door
there are no more
greater gifts and hopes
because truthfully we are not dopes
life is worth the fight
life is bringing on the right
to be free to be you and me
gifts with strings and hopes that bring
a tie to bind you and me
no thank thee
i will live without your handouts
i will thrive with my pride
i will die untethered to your contracts
my country will smile and be lightened
because i am not frightened
by any radical ideas
and like John Adams said about our constitution
it was meant for moral religious people
we have no equal. amen.
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... crows brighten by blackening until the day comes untethered
until they set their shadows down
there’s a glint on the underside of everything
-- from 10,000 Crows, by Chelsea Jennings
The Truth is that the most of life will unfold in accordance with forces outside your control, regardless of what your mind says about it ~ Michael Singer
It arcs through shadow, untethered from liturgy. No altar claims it, no saint sanctifies its path. Each motion a pendulum of penance denied, each ember a whisper from the uninvited dead.
Used 2nd curtain flash.
He stood at the edge of the dock, the boards beneath him damp with mist and memory. The sea stretched out like a forgotten canvas, gray and endless, swallowing the horizon. Somewhere beyond the fog, a sailboat drifted-silent, untethered, like the promises he’d made and failed to keep. The lighthouse blinked slowly, a pulse in the distance, steady and patient, as if it had been waiting for him to look up. He hadn’t come for the view. He’d come to face the silence.
He used to have a compass-not in his hand, but in his heart. A sense of who he was, what he stood for, how to love without faltering. But somewhere along the way, he’d lost it. Not in a single moment, but in a thousand small ones: missed chances, careless words, the slow erosion of integrity. He hadn’t just lost his way. He’d failed to live up to the man he swore he’d be. And in doing so, he’d failed her-the one person who saw him clearly, who believed in him even when he didn’t.
The wind tugged at his coat, as if urging him to turn back, but the dock was the last place he remembered feeling honest. He came here hoping the sea might forgive him, might carry his apology across the waves. And then, through the fog, the sailboat shifted-its sail catching a sliver of light. The lighthouse blinked again, brighter this time. Not a warning, but a welcome. A way forward. A whisper: You’re not beyond redemption.
And in that moment, something stirred. Not absolution, but the possibility of it. A warmth in the chest, a quiet resolve. Maybe he couldn’t undo the past, but he could choose the next step. He took a breath, deep and briny, and stepped forward-not away from the shadows, but into them. Because sometimes, the light finds you not when you deserve it, but when you’re finally ready to earn it.
After days of thick overcast and winter storms, a spot of brilliance emerged in the sky the other day. The brightness and sense of warmth were more than refreshing. In winter my mind often feels like it's running on battery power, diminishing by the day during cloudy stretches. The return of the sun serves to recharge my psyche. The effect is immediate and seems to affect the mood of the entire day. It's good only for as long as it lasts however. I can usually feel the energy ebb the moment the clouds return. But in these moments of brightness, it's good to reconnect with the sun. For me, getting outdoors is preferable to watching from a window. Also a good way to break the spell of inactivity that often settles over me in winter. And so it went the other day as I made my way through thick snow into the village cemetery late in the afternoon. The sun never fully escaped the overcast that day, shining through a filament of high clouds. It looked rather sickly as it often does this time of year, its output just a fraction of its summer intensity. I was also taken with just how small it appears in the winter sky compared with the enormous ball of glare in summer. The shadow of the flag drew me to this scene. I watched as it fluttered silently across the snow in front of me like some sort of grim kite. It seems untethered from the pole which added to the otherworldly effect of the long shadows. The visual alignment from the shadow back to the sun was majestic; the jet contrails added a wonderful flourish. A real life shadow box. Just seeing this scene brought my mental battery back to 100 percent, at least for the day.
A multicolored balloon gliding on the breeze with clear skies symbolizes freedom, escape, beauty and happiness.
She moved amidst the shadows in the night, light footed and silent. Her touch, delicate as a whisper. No one took note of her comings and goings. This was life as a ghost to the city, untethered from society, barely scraping by but free in a way that only desperation can offer.
Now things were different. The higher she climbed, the further there was for her to fall and that weight sat heavily upon her chest. Paranoia bloomed within her lungs like smoke, constant and cloying. Always given to a glance over her shoulder, that itch at the nape of her neck whispering...
"You're being watched."
"Followed."
"Marked."
Just one misstep away from getting pinched.
“I’M NOT A BIRD.
NO NET WILL ENSNARE ME.
I’M A HUMAN BEING
THAT HAS HER OWN INDEPENDENT WILL.”
–CHARLOTTE BRONTË
While we are all born with free will, some of us find ourselves trapped in relationships, jobs, or lifestyles that ensnare us. The free-spirited people among us recognize their call to freedom and find ways to live their lives as untethered as possible.
Real People Series ~ Candid Street Portraits
About to go on stage to introduce the Film Festival here in Vegas. I'm gonna mention two books... and here they are so people don't have to write them down! :) 1) The Alchemist. 2) The Untethered Soul. via Trey Ratcliff on FB at ift.tt/1v05hWZ Snapchat: treyratcliff ift.tt/1qx3iMJ Instagram: treyratcliff ift.tt/1c7s6Uy
Stormy morning clouds over the Smith Mansion!
Short/long story of it::
SMITH MANSION is rumored to be built over a mine shaft or by the hands of a madman or as a perverse joke, but the truth is that it is simply the work of a man who could not stop building.
Located in the picturesque Wapiti Valley, the former home of builder and engineer Lee Smith rises out of the landscape in a seemingly random collection of wooden terraces and staircases. Smith began building the home for his wife and children from locally harvested logs and wood, and in the beginning the house had a fairly mundane form. However, after completing the basic home, Smith continued to build, adding extra floors and seemingly tacked-on balconies, all from logs he would collect in his small pick-up. Even after his devotion to the building project led to a divorce, Smith simply redoubled his efforts, building winding organic staircases and scenic terraces on the upper floors. Tragically, Smith fell to his death while working (untethered, as was his way) on one of the upper balconies.
The Smith Mansion has since sat empty, accumulating myths and legends about ghosts and madmen. However, Smith’s daughter, Sunny Smith Larsen, has begun a preservation campaign for the site and hopefully her efforts will keep her father’s astonishing house from being destroyed by daring teenagers and superstitious tourists.
(While out there I read in paper it was sold to someone else)
This is a female Barred Owl on Vancouver Island in Colliery Dam Park. A fellow near Nanaimo told me I might find this bird here. When I arrived, I found several people enjoying the park, walking about with their dogs untethered. In the distance I could hear a pacific wren that I really wanted to see and photograph, and I grew weary that the dogs and pedestrians would scare it away.
Suddenly, I noticed a lump five yards up in a conifer. I raised my binoculars and saw this beauty. She had been roosting there through all the bustle. I gazed and snapped away for more than two hours. I have heard The Who-cooks-for-you call of the barred owl several times, but this evening I heard it front and center, and it is very loud. She was calling her young, three juveniles who soon appeared as she led them out on the evenings hunt. I found the Pacific wren the next day.
Excerpt from torontounion.ca/event/unionnale-sponsored-by-td/:
Unionnale
Sponsored by TD
As part of ArtworxTO
You say ale, we say alley. Unionnale was designed as a special art “alley” that captures colour and artworks inspired by all the neighbourhoods of Toronto. The space presents visual storytelling and artistry through a fun and creative artistic installation in the heart of the station. As part of Union’s continuing contemporary programming and ArtworxTO’s public art initiative, the art selection in Unionnale will rotate every two years, with artists chosen through a juried selection process.
Presenting Flux by Esmond Lee
Flux examines the relationships between everyday moments, spaces, and materials found within Toronto and beyond to reveal a fantastical, yet familiar world. From quiet industrial sites to bustling streetscapes, the qualities of urban, suburban, and rural spaces are blended together to reveal their hidden connectedness. Cultures and norms conventionally understood as fixed to specific locations are untethered to form new, imaginative landscapes free from the boundaries of time and space. The photo-collages of various shapes and sizes invite viewers to experience both the many details and the whole together, without using any particular framing or perspectives. Viewers are encouraged to experience these artworks from any spot and viewing angle: roam slowly to see the various parts, pause to examine particular details, or stand back to see the work in its entirety. Places conventionally understood as fragments can now be understood through their commonalities, negotiations, and entanglements, asking: how do seemingly far-reaching places operate together on a continuum of complex, interwoven landscapes? Flux challenges the very tensions and conflicts produced by political and economic boundaries that divide our landscape – and its people – into abstract, disparate spaces. Whether for leisure, opportunity, or by force: the bodily movement and gesture of people shapes and creates space, just as space shapes and informs the movement of people in a reciprocal, dynamic relationship under continuous flux.
About the Artist
Esmond Lee is an artist, researcher, and architect based in Scarborough, Toronto. He holds a Master of Architecture and currently pursuing a Doctorate in Critical Human Geography. Drawing from professional, academic, and personal backgrounds, Lee examines migration, settlement, identity, belonging, and nuanced cultural and political borders in the built environment. His recent public artworks include installations for Nuit Blanche Toronto (2019, 2022) and CONTACT Photography Festival, nominated for the 2022 Heritage Toronto Award in Public History. Lee is currently creating two photobooks about Scarborough: Below the City, recognized by an honourable mention in the 2020 Burtynsky Grant, and a community co-creation as the Toronto Public Library Artist-in-Residence at Woodside Square.
"1001 Inventions Exhibition"
The ancient Egyptians painted winged pharaohs, while Chinese, Greek and Persian myths featured attempts at flight that often ended in disaster. There were early attempts to use kites to lift men high up in the sky.
But as to untethered flights, the first reported glider flight was in the late 9th century. More than a century later, the Cordoban chronicler Ibn Hayyan wrote in the book al Muqtabas that Cordoba saw 'Abbas Ibn Firnas around 852 leap from the top of a hill using a form of a wing fitted onto his arms'.
In the 15th century, Leonardo da Vinci drew flying machines - but he never tried to take to the skies in person.
Empty. Untethered. And Unnatural.
This is actually a sad symbol for me. I live in a place where the economy frequently contracts. When it contracts, whole swaths of people are thrown out on the street. There are currently 3,000 people living homeless or rough in the area. (Many in these woods.) They use shopping carts to push their belongings through the paths.
Grocery carts use to imply 'abundance' but now they are just sad transportation devices for the abject poor, mostly containing the collected stuff we all have but usually store at home.
IMG_3155
(gaseous graffiti)
In Southern California the typical prevailing winds tend to flow on-shore from the Pacific Ocean in a northeasterly direction. This weather pattern will usher any untethered, helium-filled object born aloft on these breezes over the Los Angeles area and deposit it in the adjacent Verdugo Hills or San Gabriel Mountains. It is not uncommon at to find balloons in various states of tattered disrepair hanging in trees or lying on the ground in the upper elevations of these mountain ranges.
Caught Between what is and what might have been.
He dwells in the ache of both.
The sail is motion - wild, uncharted, untethered.
It calls with the voice of youth,
of roads not taken,
of stories that could have been written in salt and wind.
Security is the harbor, the lighthouse -
quiet, earned, enduring.
It holds the shape of love chosen,
of roots planted,
of mornings that arrive without surprise.
He does not regret the anchor,
but he remembers the wind.
He does not curse the stillness,
but he feels the pull of the tide.
This is the tension that defines him:
not indecision,
but devotion to both truths.
That he could have sailed,
and he chose to stay.
That longing does not mean loss - it means he chose the life he lived with his whole heart.
Edit: This made Explore 5th January 2011, highest position #129.
Wow! I loved this photo a lot but I didn't think it would make Explore. Thank you everyone for all your comments and faves which helped this photograph make Explore. I am very grateful :-)
*************************************************************************************************************
This is a photo for the 2 Photos Project group.
My artistic contact and friend Ottilie is one of the admins for the group so please feel free to join.
To me the word "Untethered" means not tied or confined. So in turn I think of "freedom" and when I think of freedom I always think of butterflies. They always seem so free to wander and flutter by...
So this is my interpretation of the word Untethered and I hope you like it.
Release the Grip and Let Life Flow
In the tranquil embrace of a riverside retreat, we find solace and wisdom. It is often believed that our strength lies in holding on, yet there are moments when true resilience emerges from letting go.
As we loosen our grip on the reins of control and surrender our attachment to having things our way, we open ourselves to the profound beauty of reality as it unfolds.
Just as the river effortlessly meanders downstream, we too must allow life to flow naturally forward, untethered by our expectations.
For in embracing the ebb and flow of existence, we discover the freedom and peace that comes from embracing the harmony of the universe.
ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ.-:**★**:-.ღ
Dress: Ecru Couture - Bloom / Exclusive @ We Love Roleplay Event
Pose: [DPSP] - Paperbird
[DPSP] - Mainstore
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Yellow%20Stone/217/39/21
We Love Roleplay Event (4th - 28th May)
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/We%20Love%20RolePlay/128/1...
There are places where time refuses to obey the frantic pulse of the world—where it lingers, stretching each moment into something more profound. Here, the clock does not chase, it invites.
The wind moves lazily, whispering through the trees like an old friend recounting a story from long ago. The waves roll in slow, rhythmic procession, neither hurried nor waiting—just being. Footsteps leave imprints in the sand, not as passing marks, but as memories etched into the earth, held there until the tide decides otherwise.
In this place, conversations drift like clouds, untethered from urgency. The warmth of the sun is no longer just heat—it is presence, wrapping around shoulders like a familiar embrace. Even silence feels full, expansive, as if it has something to say.
There is no race here. No deadlines to meet. Only the quiet certainty that right now—this breath, this sky, this heartbeat—is enough. Time slows, not because it must, but because it understands.
Untethered Wildness
Untethered wildness names me on the first Sunday of Advent, my second winter in Greenland. I step away from carols and clamor, into the library of secret maps, where silence learns my breath. I trace routes not meant to be owned, only followed, until distance loosens its grip. There are no gifts, no feasts, no burning licors, only a hunger sharp enough to see. Wrapped in qiviuk, I feel warmth become ritual, skin remembering ancient weather. Sensuality is not excess here; it is attention. I shed borrowed calendars and take my shamanic shape, listening for what the ice teaches. Christmas begins without noise. Knowledge becomes fire. I walk toward it, unafraid...
Photography and file processing; __luca__ nevermind(Luis Campillo)
Artistic direction, MUAH, props, caption and model; Lis Xia
Gear; Nikon D700 & Nikkor 50mm 1.8G Special Edition, 1600 ISO
Today is the 27th anniversary of the launch of space mission STS-41-B, during which astronaut Bruce McCandless performed the first untethered space walk.
I shot the earth part in this photo, Bruce is from this image.
One of the four chimneys of Battersea Power Station, London, reflected in an adjoining apartment building. The former power station has just been re-opened as a shopping mall/entertainment complex after a 10 year, £9 billion (billion) restoration.
Achieved greatest fame on the cover of Pink Floyd's 1977 'Animals' album, complete with a flying pig that got untethered. Impossible to recreate the cover now with all the surrounding redevelopment.
The album divided the human race into Dogs, Pigs or Sheep. Not far off the mark!
There was a time when we travelled all alone
Through the depths of infinity as dust
Eventually our molecules formed a stone
As we gratified our restless wanderlust
We're floating in our memory
Through time and space untethered
Time travellers in disguise
May we trip forever
In silence - we drift with endeavour
In silence - we're in this together
We fought to find a place to feel as one
To fill the vacuum with more than emptiness
With many more of us we built a glowing sun
To light our path into the endlessness
We're floating in our memory
Through time and space untethered
Time travellers in disguise
May we trip forever
In silence - we drift with endeavour
In silence - we're in this together
We formed so many shapes in a million years
Yet we are the lost
No lighthouse in the spheres
We're floating in our memory
Through time and space untethered
Time travellers in disguise
May we trip forever
In silence - we drift with endeavour
In silence - we're in this together
In silence - we're in this together
Excerpt from torontounion.ca/event/unionnale-sponsored-by-td/:
Unionnale
Sponsored by TD
As part of ArtworxTO
You say ale, we say alley. Unionnale was designed as a special art “alley” that captures colour and artworks inspired by all the neighbourhoods of Toronto. The space presents visual storytelling and artistry through a fun and creative artistic installation in the heart of the station. As part of Union’s continuing contemporary programming and ArtworxTO’s public art initiative, the art selection in Unionnale will rotate every two years, with artists chosen through a juried selection process.
Presenting Flux by Esmond Lee
Flux examines the relationships between everyday moments, spaces, and materials found within Toronto and beyond to reveal a fantastical, yet familiar world. From quiet industrial sites to bustling streetscapes, the qualities of urban, suburban, and rural spaces are blended together to reveal their hidden connectedness. Cultures and norms conventionally understood as fixed to specific locations are untethered to form new, imaginative landscapes free from the boundaries of time and space. The photo-collages of various shapes and sizes invite viewers to experience both the many details and the whole together, without using any particular framing or perspectives. Viewers are encouraged to experience these artworks from any spot and viewing angle: roam slowly to see the various parts, pause to examine particular details, or stand back to see the work in its entirety. Places conventionally understood as fragments can now be understood through their commonalities, negotiations, and entanglements, asking: how do seemingly far-reaching places operate together on a continuum of complex, interwoven landscapes? Flux challenges the very tensions and conflicts produced by political and economic boundaries that divide our landscape – and its people – into abstract, disparate spaces. Whether for leisure, opportunity, or by force: the bodily movement and gesture of people shapes and creates space, just as space shapes and informs the movement of people in a reciprocal, dynamic relationship under continuous flux.
About the Artist
Esmond Lee is an artist, researcher, and architect based in Scarborough, Toronto. He holds a Master of Architecture and currently pursuing a Doctorate in Critical Human Geography. Drawing from professional, academic, and personal backgrounds, Lee examines migration, settlement, identity, belonging, and nuanced cultural and political borders in the built environment. His recent public artworks include installations for Nuit Blanche Toronto (2019, 2022) and CONTACT Photography Festival, nominated for the 2022 Heritage Toronto Award in Public History. Lee is currently creating two photobooks about Scarborough: Below the City, recognized by an honourable mention in the 2020 Burtynsky Grant, and a community co-creation as the Toronto Public Library Artist-in-Residence at Woodside Square.