View allAll Photos Tagged Wanders
Hiking along the Continental Divide Trail and Colorado Trail on Wander Ridge in the San Isabel National Forest, Colorado
Noel and I met the lovely McVay family the other day since they were visiting Los Angeles. they're all really beautiful and really kind.
we wandered around the abandoned railroad tracks and got ice cream
it was rather lovely
(I ended this about ten times to get the editing right)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
From I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
I couldn't resist this title after my recent globetrotting and current dilemma as to which part of the world to live in next.
This is the view from my son's apartment window in Edinburgh... I had a great time in Auld Reekie, thanks Jules :-)
Today's Raven Muse - Patterns & Lines by Screw-Jay
It snowed today I shot this photo of this barn through my car window because It was on a main road and I had seconds to get a snap. My dog Buster that passed away LOVED the snow- I thought of him today. I will never understand how anyone can be mean to animals- they are all heart. I lub mine. <3
I hope everyone is warm where its cold - and lets pray that today 1/20/09 is a time of good change for our country. x
“Buon giorno”, disse il piccolo principe.
“Buon giorno”, disse il fiore.
“Dove sono gli uomini?" domando’ gentilmente il piccolo principe.
Un giorno il fiore aveva visto passare una carovana:
“Gli uomini? Ne esistono, credo, sei o sette. Li ho visti molti anni fa. Ma non si sa mai dove trovarli. Il vento li spinge qua e la’. Non hanno radici, e questo li imbarazza molto”.
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
♫ Heaven we hope is just up the road
show me the way Lord
because I am about to explode
98/365
I wandered through woods
I wandered through words
I wondered through woods
I wondered without words
I wandered and wondered
But it still hurts.
you can see almost all my graff flicks in this group right HERE... says i have 1,800+ & that's just walls... i also have 1200+ train shots posted to this group right HERE... they range in age from the early/mid 90's till now & that's just the start of my collection... someone buy my cheap(not broke... cheap... there is a difference) ass a pro account so i can go back to posting like i used to
I want to share a side project that I've been working on—images taken by a fictional space probe called WANDER, the first spacecraft to explore beyond our universe.
The "photos" that Wander takes of these strange worlds are actually creations I've made by scanning household items. This image is made from:
Planet - glass of half and half, water, food coloring
Moons - glass of coconut milk, water, food coloring
Stars - salt, tums, cinnamon, baking powder
You can follow along with Wander as it explores these mysterious worlds on Instagram at instagram.com/wanderprobe and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/wanderprobe.
Wanderung zum Milleschauer bei winterlicher Inversionswetterlage mit exzellenter Fernsicht sowie Nebel über dem umliegenden Nordböhmen.
Here is another example of my lack of slide labeling. SD40-2 #30 is leading a Milwaukee Road freight across a rural road somewhere south of Terre Haute, IN in 1986.
Wanderung in Scharzfeld (Stadt Herzberg) zur Einhornhöhle.
Hike in Scharzfeld (city Herzberg) to Einhornhöhle.
Was away camping this weekend with some friends down at the Delaware Sea Shore State Park again. This time we stayed in a site north of the bridge.
We had planed the trip months ago and luck was with us for sure. Had planed it for last weekend Hurricane Matthew would have been joining us as it passed by our coastline.
The weather was as perfect an Autumn weekend as you could ask for. Bright sunny days, lovely blue skies, cool clear evenings and pretty sunsets.
We visited Cape Henlopen and stopped at the point where the Delaware Bay and Atlantic Ocean meet. In addition to the famous lighthouse there was all nature of wildlife on display.
And then there were these mysteriously abandoned sneakers pointing off towards the water.
Perhaps they were left behind by some Merman who temporarily came ashore to enjoy a last bit of fun before all the local pubs and restaurants close up for the season.
Hope you all have a great week ahead.
Designed by Calin (tagged). Absolutely love the movie. In my opinion, BR2049 is somewhat more enjoyable than BR itself. Moreover, the movie plays well on its own as a sci-fi detective noir film but also as a sequel to one of the greatest cyberpunk movie of all time. Also, salute to Roger Deakins for his outstanding work on the movie as well.
Wonder | Wander Tim Lowly © 2002-11, acrylic on panel, 19" x 14"
This work is related to a series of paintings which I showed with gescheidle in an exhibition titled "Tend". I did these paintings after that exhibition and have never shown them. Today I did a little work on them and decided to show them this way (stacked).
What's art about if it isn't about learning something? Well I learnt something. Several things actually. Will I use what I've learnt to grow and become wiser? That seems unlikely. So what did I learn?
1) Ice is very cold.
2) Icy water feels even colder.
3) Even kneeling on ice might not spread your weight enough to prevent it cracking.
4) Don't ever admit to doing something stupid. Especially not on the internet. You'll never know who might read it.
I've resigned myself to the fact that I won't ever feel confident enough in my creativity to know what it is I will make ahead of time, and I won't know how, whatever it is, will turn out. It was never an issue when noone ever saw what I make but now, a little self doubt lurks in the back of my mind, that I must make something interesting otherwise I shouldn't have bothered. Often, as I wander around some wild place somewhere (no not a bar in Blackpool on a Saturday night), I am thinking about future land art projects and the potential of different places. But always lurking there is the thought that it better be good when I get round to doing it.
On the face of it, this voice at the back of the room would seem to be a help, always encouraging me to try harder. But the weird thing is, this voice actually seems to be a hindrance. There is a subtle but important difference between "it better be good" and "I wonder if it'll be any good?"
When I listen to those words it seems to be an extra burden, a burden that makes it harder to tap into any creativity. I have no idea what creativity actually is, where it lives or how it operates. But what I do know is that you can plug into it directly if you would just relax and go with the flow. A sense of expectation of how something should be, how it ought to be, if only you tried hard enough is not where it's at. I think this is what I love about land art. As I start, the distractions, the so called "encouraging" voices just fade away and all that matters is the moment. And when enough moments join together, I often end up exactly where I wanted to be had I been thinking about it in the first place. I've said it before but it seems it is a hard lesson to learn. It's about the doing. The thinking, the planning, the expectations. None of this really helps.
So I set off, the frost crunching under my feet and doubting/encouraging voices in my head struggling to help me think of what I could do. I went to a small pool of dark water and tried to chop out some ice. Fun though that was, it didn't inspire me, so I continued to trudge up the hill. On the slopes either side of me, camo jacketed plonkers with shotguns and dogs attempted to shoot, stupid and inbred pheasants. A fitting challenge for the Saturday shotgun warriors. We haven't quite gone to the lengths of fencing in animals for rich (and fat) obnoxious clients to shoot but it isn't far off.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not hypocritical enough to suggest that shooting is completely wrong. I could only occupy the moral highground if I didn't eat industrially farmed animals and didn't ignore the fact that I couldn't kill, what I eat, myself. But I do wonder at the mentality of people who shoot animals for a hobby, as a way to relax, to let off steam on a Saturday morning. Does it make you feel manly to outwit a pheasant with a bunch of beaters, dogs and high powered weaponry? Is it simply target practice and honing a skill?
I always wonder whether they have something missing in their lives and their neuroses drive them to show off, inaudibly shouting "look at me, look at me, LOOK AT ME! I'm really, really important! I demand your attention!" Because what seems to be common amongst this activities is noise. Lots of it and the seemingly willfull need to pee off as many people as possible. Especially people who like peace and quiet!
How many examples can you think of? Here's a few for starters: riding big, powerful motorbikes around country lanes in the summer, riding jet skis across lakes and off shore, off roading on green lanes and shooting things for fun. Why oh why do all these things have to be so loud? And why do you have to do them in beautiful and quiet places and spoil the peace and quiet for so many others? Are you so lacking in empathy that you have no idea how you are spoiling it for everyone else? Or do you have a pathological need to take over places and claim them as yours to make up for your inadaquecies? I think this is one of the biggest splits in our species. The sensitive and the not sensitive. The noisy and the quiet. The considerate and inconsiderate.
So the soundtrack to my sculpturing went like this "hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" As the beaters flushed the doomed birds from the undergrowth and "KABOOM! KABOOM!" as another pheasant bit the dust. I expect that if I ever go mad that that will be the soundtrack to my insanity too. I wanted to stand on a rock and shout out "shut the hell up you noisy idiots!" to try and get rid of my frustrated feeling. But I don't think they were going to see the error of their ways so I went back to what I was doing with the frustrated feeling still present.
So what was a I doing I hear you ask?
A bank of fog was sliding in from the south, leaving the tips of the mountains poking through the sea of moisture. Unusually for an inversion, a layer of cloud lay above us too (me and the mountains) and gradually the temperature began to warm.
On another small dark pool I begun to lay out sections of frosted bracken, to make a pattern on the ice. When I leant back I noticed I had left hand prints where my body heat had melted the surface and I liked them and decided to do something along those lines instead. On all fours, I kneeled on the ice, positioning my hands to make prints in the surface, when suddenly cracks spread across the surface like fractured glass and I was about to become more acquainted with this medium than I originally planned. I had one of those Wiley Coyote moments like when he runs over the cliff's edge, only to be found pedalling in mid-air. Just for a split second gravity didn't grab me and then all at once the icey water and me, became intimate. I managed to extricate myself after immersing only one leg and fortunately I was wearing two pairs of trousers for warmth and had some spare socks, so pretty quickly I was dry again. I smirked to myself at being such a fool but soon found that the broken ice was fantastically clear and square edged so my foolishness had served a purpose and revealed to me the beauty of this ice.
I took a section and rounded the edges before trying to melt my hand print into it. I could only manage a little at a time before I had to rewarm my hand, so I challenged myself to count to fifty before I would put on a glove to warm up, only to try and melt some more for another count to fifty.
As the handprint begun to form I started to think about how I would be able to photograph it. The imprint was like a ghost, difficult to pin down, like a fleeting image in the corner of your eye. I put the ice back in the water but the image disappeared so I went searching for another way.
I found a slab with thick frost on it, so I melted another handprint onto it and placed the ice on top, in an effort to put a black background behind the imprint. This didn't work either. I then picked some holly berries thinking that I would squish them up and fill in the mould but that was also a failure. And then it dawned on me, bubbles underwater are very bright, especially against the dark, peaty water!
I went back to the little pool and to its twin with the unbroken ice. I put my handprint on top of it, face down so that air would be trapped and then started to ladle (I didn't actually use a ladle - who carries around a ladle?!) water from the broken pool onto the ice of the intact one. Soon the effect was working and I had learnt something new about contrast and ice.
After taking some more pictures of it set against the sky, I collected my gear and headed off downhill. The cretins were still shooting at anything that moved and the irritation at the noisy buggers still dwelled in the pit of my stomach.
At the bottom of the hill I sat and watched two Buzzards sitting in adjacent trees, one of which kept calling and flying to the other one, perhaps with spring on her mind. For a few minutes I watched transfixed and thought what magnificent creatures they are. As I set off again towards home I noticed that the feeling in my stomach had gone and a few quiet moments observing the wonder of nature had calmed and comforted me. That is all that is required for peace. An open mind and a moment to fill it. Perhaps the Saturday shotgunners should try it one day. They might actually like it and discover that there is another way.