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Ataxia - Automatic writting
Ataxia (from Greek α- [used as a negative prefix] + -τάξις [order], meaning "lack of order") is a neurological sign and symptom that consists of gross lack of coordination of muscle movements. Ataxia is a non-specific clinical manifestation implying dysfunction of the parts of the nervous system that coordinate movement, such as the cerebellum. Several possible causes exist for these patterns of neurological dysfunction.
November 2011
So here's the deal. The project was to keep to a limited area. We choose the entrance to a subway that leads through to 55 Degrees North in the center of Newcastle.
Myself and Littlecharva.
We could take as many pictures as possible; but we could only leave with three pictures all others were deleted.
Then it was a case show and tell.
My Pic 1
Our Daily Challenge - Square Format
Human Writ.es is an organization that helps provide early learning books for the underprivileged
also part of a recreate week for my 365 inspired by [http://www.flickr.com/photos/zandrsmum] and [http://www.flickr.com/photos/jyy_sue]
I messed up a bit on the writting but other than that im pleased with it and boyfriend seems to like it too :-)
Either were finnishing or were getting arrested. Which ever comes first.
Arguing with locals, ignoring hippies and spot pushing with REBUS and AVK.
Joiner here: www.facebook.com/vodkergraffiti
Sam Smith - Writing's On The Wall
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpYRoeczWO8&ab_channel=BBCMusic
Blake Shelton - Nobody But You (Duet with Gwen Stefani) (Official Music Video)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4h9o0Gujuoc&ab_channel=BlakeS...
Si lo arriesgo todo, si desaparezco para siempre, ¿pondrás fin a mi caida? ¿Me esconderás?
¿Cómo viviré? ¿Cómo respiraré?
Cuando tú no estás conmigo, me ahogo, me asfixio.
Quiero sentir tu amor recorriendo mi sangre.
Habla, por favor, ¿Ahora es cuando lo dejo todo, todo por tí?
Por ti, arriesgaría todo, porque la suerte está echada.
La suerte está echada.
If I risk it all, if I disappear forever, will you end my fall? Will you hide me?
How will I live? How will I breathe?
When you are not with me, I drown, I suffocate
I want to feel your love running through my blood.
Speak, please, is this when I leave everything, everything for you?
For you I would risk everything
because the die is cast. Writting's on the wall
Si je risque tout, si je disparais pour toujours, finirez-vous ma chute? Voulez-vous me cacher?
Comment vais-je vivre? Comment vais-je respirer?
Quand tu n'es pas avec moi, je me noie, j'étouffe
Je veux sentir ton amour couler dans mon sang.
Parle, s'il te plaît, est-ce que c'est quand je laisse tout, tout pour toi?
Pour toi je risquerais tout
parce que les dés sont jetés. Les dés sont jetés.
Se eu arriscar tudo, se eu desaparecer para sempre, você vai acabar com minha queda? Você vai me esconder?
Como vou viver? Como vou respirar?
Quando você não está comigo, eu me afogo, eu sufoco
Eu quero sentir seu amor correndo em meu sangue.
Fale, por favor, é quando eu deixo tudo, tudo por você?
Por você eu arriscaria tudo
porque a sorte está lançada. A sorte está lançada.
María
Truth is rarely writ in ink; it lives in nature. ~Martin H. Fischer
..........
wild chicory ...seen blooming in the weeds and gravel by a busy road ...
Thanks for the visit ....wishing you a happy November :-)
Pinocchio is a fictional character and the protagonist of the children's novel, "The Adventures of Pinocchio" (1883) by Italian writer Carlo Collodi of Florence, Tuscany.
Pinocchio was carved by a woodcarver named Geppetto in a Tuscan village.
He is created as a wooden puppet, but he dreams of becoming a real boy.
He is known for his long nose, which grows when he lies.
Pinocchio is a cultural icon and one of the most reimagined characters in children's literature.
His story has been adapted into many other media, notably the 1940 Disney film "Pinocchio".
Collodi often used the Italian Tuscan dialect in his book.
The name Pinocchio is possibly derived from the rare Tuscan form pinocchio ('pine nut') or constructed from pino ('pine tree, pine wood') and occhio ('eye').
The day I made my last flight as an airline captain, from Rome through Madrid, my dear last crew gave me this figurine of Pinocchio as a farewell present.
MI AMIGO PINOCHO., 2024
Pinocho es un personaje ficticio y el protagonista de la novela infantil "Las aventuras de Pinocho" (1883) del escritor italiano Carlo Collodi de Florencia, Toscana.
Pinocho fue tallado por un tallador de madera llamado Geppetto en un pueblo de la Toscana.
Fue creado como un títere de madera, pero sueña con convertirse en un niño de verdad.
Es conocido por su nariz larga, que crece cuando miente.
Pinocho es un icono cultural y uno de los personajes más reinventados de la literatura infantil.
Su historia ha sido adaptada a muchos otros medios, en particular a la película de Disney "Pinocho" de 1940.
Collodi solía utilizar el dialecto italiano toscano en su libro.
El nombre Pinocho posiblemente se derive de la rara forma toscana pinocchio ('piñón') o se construya a partir de pino ('árbol de pino, madera de pino') y occhio ('ojo').
El día que realicé mi último vuelo como capitán de línea aérea, de Roma a Madrid, mi querida última tripulación me regaló esta figura de Pinocho como regalo de despedida.
The American poet and writer Richard Brautigam found himself, in the sixties in San Francisco, corner of Haight and Ashbury, cradle of the hippie movement and the quiet revolution of a whole generation of baby boomers. He sold his poems on the street corner to live ... and he survived until, 20 years later, he shot himself with a 44 magnum bullet in his head, firing all of a sudden poetry...
Get enough food to eat,
and Eat it !
Find a place to sleep where it is quiet,
and Sleep there !
Reduce intellectual and emotional noise
until you arrive at the silence of yourself
and listen to it !
(Richard Brautigam)
Le poète et écrivain américain Richard Brautigam s'est retrouvé, dans les sixties à San Francisco, au coin de Haight et Ashbury, berceau du mouvement hippie et de la révolution tranquille de toute une génération de baby boomers. Il vendait ses poèmes sur le coin de la rue pour vivre...et il a survécu jusqu'à ce que, 20 ans plus tard, il se tire une balle de 44 magnum dans la tête, faisant fuire d'un coup toute sa poésie...
Avoir assez de bouffe pour manger...
mange-la !
Trouver un endroit calme où dormir...
dors là !
Réduire le bruit intellectuel et émotionnel
jusqu'à ce que tu arrives au silence intérieur...
écoute-le !
(Richard Brautigam)
I love how this looks (to me) like some alien writing...
Been digging my way out of a *pile* of work but finally reaching the bottom. Hopefully I'll get some more work up on Flickr soon.
this is a special photo for me, because it is my first photo captured by my first DSLR camera "Canon 550D"
and it's new start for me in the world of photographing and my first step towards being professional in this wonderful field..
i took this photo for an artist writting my name in beautiful arabic hand-writting. and that was in "Asia Gathers Us" event which held in Kuwait university - Shuwaikh area.
i hope it is a good start ... ^^
FR : Parc Monceau / Paris
Sur le socle du monument en hommage à Guy de Maupassant, une lectrice statufiée, les yeux dans le vide, a posé un instant son livre à ses côtés et se remmémore le destin souvent brisé des héros du grand romancier et nouvelliste.
Photo ordinaire, retenue ici par défaut, pour le seul bel éclairage naturel hivernal, qui caressait fugitivement le mélancolique visage de pierre de la dame, juste au moment ou je passais, par pur hasard, à ses pieds…
Sculpture de Raoul Verlet (1897)
EN: Monceau Park in Paris
On the pedestal of the monument in tribute to the writer Guy de Maupassant, a reader with eyes in the void, placed for a moment her book along her, thinking about the evocation of all the broken lifes described in the author's works.
Ordinary picture, but just here for the beautiful natural winter light, which caressed the melancholic stone face of the lady, just for a fugitive moment.
Sculpture by Raoul Verlet (1897)
jacks manequin'
explored
once again my sister
more in comments!
it took foreverrr to pick up all these suckers.
When I think "celebration," I think of the vibrance and energy of something like fireworks—not really practical to capture from two or three inches away. But these sparkly-things-on-wires that we adorn the Christmas tree with each year pack a little of that firework energy, especially when the late day sun catches them through the window, sending a spray of reflections onto our walls and ceiling, as if someone has just sneezed Christmas spirit all over everything.
123:365
Weekly Theme - Recreate
Channeling a little www.flickr.com/photos/jyy_sue/8573321451/ and a little Karyn too . . . . . www.flickr.com/photos/zandrsmum/8647533344/
Human Writ.es is an organization that helps provide early learning books for the underprivileged