View allAll Photos Tagged cladding
A member of FRC team 6800, Valor, seen in the pits during the FIRST in Texas District Competition at Dripping Springs High School, March 5th, 2022.
Find all my pictures from this event at davewilson.smugmug.com/Robotics/FIT-Texas-District-Drippi...
2123 Copley
Lustron homes are clad and roofed in enameled steel panels. Similarly, the interior walls, ceilings, and cabinets are made of the same material (though I'm guessing the interior panels are a thinner gauge). They were manufactured for just a couple of years (1949-50) in Columbus, Ohio, and only 2,560 were built.
I've been vaguely aware of them for a long time, but it wasn't until my wife and I moved to Toledo and discovered one a couple of blocks from our house that I really gave them any thought. Last year I did some online research and set about finding and photographing them. I'll be happy to share my photos of the ones not shown here. Just contact me.
Online lists don't always agree with each other, and there are some inaccuracies. Here is my updated list of Toledo Lustrons with remarks:
4219 Douglas
2123 Copley
3851 Watson
2003 Farnham; not on any list that I've found
1862 Wildwood
2348 Sherwood
2712 Copland Blvd.
110 Sunset Blvd.
46 Pasadena
540 Gramercy
4938 Fair Oaks
2651 Greenway; appears on some lists as 2038 Farnham (the cross street)
4601 Willys Parkway; original roof replaced with asphalt shingles; the house sits at a corner, and some lists use the cross street — Corbin Rd. — as its address.
1848 E. Manhattan Blvd.; original roof replaced with asphalt shingles; no longer used for residential
742 Waybridge; original roof replaced with asphalt shingles; original siding replaced with vinyl; appears on some lists as 734 and 743
2757 York, East Toledo; original roof replaced with asphalt shingles; original siding replaced with vinyl; appears on some lists as 2755 York
519 W. Indiana Ave., Perrysburg; I haven't verified or photographed this suburban location
1649 Circular Rd.; sometimes listed as 1649 Riverview Ct., the cross street
3244 Heatherdowns Blvd.; original siding replaced with vinyl
4337 Harvest; original siding replaced with vinyl
44 Poinsettia; original roof replaced with asphalt shingles; original siding replaced with vinyl
An underwater camera was cool to have. As I wasn't game enough to ditch the life jacket and swim on my own in the middle of the ocean, I took photos of those who were.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/uppyphoto
Gutenberg.org: Roughing It by Mark Twain
“… XVIII: At eight in the morning we reached the remnant and ruin of what had been the important military station of “Camp Floyd,” some forty-five or fifty miles from Salt Lake City. At four P.M. we had doubled our distance and were ninety or a hundred miles from Salt Lake. And now we entered upon one of that species of deserts whose concentrated hideousness shames the diffused and diluted horrors of Sahara—an “alkali” desert. For sixty-eight miles there was but one break in it. I do not remember that this was really a break; indeed it seems to me that it was nothing but a watering depot in the midst of the stretch of sixty-eight miles. …
This enthusiasm, this stern thirst for adventure, wilted under the sultry August sun and did not last above one hour. One poor little hour—Imagine a vast, waveless ocean stricken dead and turned to ashes; imagine this solemn waste tufted with ash-dusted sage-bushes; imagine the lifeless silence and solitude that belong to such a place …
The sun beats down with dead, blistering, relentless malignity; the perspiration is welling from every pore in man and beast, but scarcely a sign of it finds its way to the surface—it is absorbed before it gets there; there is not the faintest breath of air stirring; there is not a merciful shred of cloud in all the brilliant firmament; there is not a living creature visible in any direction whither one searches the blank level that stretches its monotonous miles on every hand; there is not a sound—not a sigh—not a whisper—not a buzz, or a whir of wings, or distant pipe of bird—not even a sob from the lost souls that doubtless people that dead air. And so the occasional sneezing of the resting mules, and the champing of the bits, grate harshly on the grim stillness, not dissipating the spell but accenting it and making one feel more lonesome and forsaken than before. …
Then another “spurt” of a hundred yards and another rest at the end of it. All day long we kept this up, without water for the mules and without ever changing the team. At least we kept it up ten hours, which, I take it, is a day, and a pretty honest one, in an alkali desert. It was from four in the morning till two in the afternoon. And it was so hot! and so close! and our water canteens went dry in the middle of the day and we got so thirsty! It was so stupid and tiresome and dull! …
The alkali dust cut through our lips, it persecuted our eyes, it ate through the delicate membranes and made our noses bleed and kept them bleeding—and truly and seriously the romance all faded far away and disappeared, and left the desert trip nothing but a harsh reality—a thirsty, sweltering, longing, hateful reality!
Two miles and a quarter an hour for ten hours—that was what we accomplished. It was hard to bring the comprehension away down to such a snail-pace as that, when we had been used to making eight and ten miles an hour. When we reached the station on the farther verge of the desert, we were glad, for the first time, that the dictionary was along, because we never could have found language to tell how glad we were, in any sort of dictionary but an unabridged one with pictures in it. But there could not have been found in a whole library of dictionaries language sufficient to tell how tired those mules were after their twenty-three mile pull. To try to give the reader an idea of how thirsty they were, …”
Chapter XX: On the nineteenth day we crossed the Great American Desert—forty memorable miles of bottomless sand, into which the coach wheels sunk from six inches to a foot. We worked our passage most of the way across. That is to say, we got out and walked. It was a dreary pull and a long and thirsty one, for we had no water. From one extremity of this desert to the other, the road was white with the bones of oxen and horses. It would hardly be an exaggeration to say that we could have walked the forty miles and set our feet on a bone at every step! The desert was one prodigious graveyard. And the log-chains, wagon tyres, and rotting wrecks of vehicles were almost as thick as the bones. I think we saw log-chains enough rusting there in the desert, to reach across any State in the Union. Do not these relics suggest something of an idea of the fearful suffering and privation the early emigrants to California endured?
Chapter XXI We were approaching the end of our long journey. It was the morning of the twentieth day. At noon we would reach Carson City, the capital of Nevada Territory. We were not glad, but sorry. It had been a fine pleasure trip; we had fed fat on wonders every day; we were now well accustomed to stage life, and very fond of it; so the idea of coming to a stand-still and settling down to a humdrum existence in a village was not agreeable, but on the contrary depressing.
Visibly our new home was a desert, walled in by barren, snow-clad mountains. There was not a tree in sight. There was no vegetation but the endless sage-brush and greasewood. All nature was gray with it. We were plowing through great deeps of powdery alkali dust that rose in thick clouds and floated across the plain like smoke from a burning house.
2334a
BLM Winter Bucket List #21: Visit King Range National Conservation Area, California, for Solitude in “A World Apart”
No #nationalconservation15 social media day would be complete without a National Conservation Lands location for your bucket list. We recommend the BLM’s first National Conservation Area - King Range.
Perched along California’s far northern coast is an area of Douglas-fir clad peaks and rushing streams bypassed by civilization. The focal point of this “Lost Coast” is the 68,000-acre BLM managed King Range National Conservation Area. Visitors must keep their schedules flexible in the winter - the weather can range from sunny 60-degree days to heavy rains and pounding surf. Those who come prepared for the weather can enjoy solitude in a spectacular setting of 4,000 foot peaks jutting straight from the sea.
The rocky coast in the small community of Shelter Cove offers great spots to view storm waves (keep back a safe distance from the ocean). More than 100 miles of trails offer many options for day hiking opportunities. Backpacking, a very popular pastime here the rest of the year, is also possible in winter, but storms can make trails impassible from high water crossings, so pay attention to the weather. Expert surfers strap boards to their packs and hike miles into the coastal wilderness to access one of the best point breaks on the west coast. The King Range is five hours north of San Francisco and a world apart.
Photo by Bob Wick, BLM.
Jain temple - Chandni chowk - Old Delhi.
The Digambar Jain priests evidently go naked. Oh my! well except for the eyeglasses in this case.
The point is to express total renunciation of material goods. they are not 'naked' per se, they are clad in the sky. there are about 2,000,000 Jains in India.
If this guy was ugly would his naked poster be up on Old delhi's main street?
HPIM2643
Since I love architectural copper, this building drew me to it like a magnet. I would love to tell you more about it, but I cannot because I don't have the address or the name : (
A recent acquaintance who is also a fan of architecture told me she keeps a log with the addresses of the buildings she photographs. I may have to do the same.
Be that as it may, what appeals to me about this facade is the differential oxidation and weathering that gives the surface an organic look.
The way my tastes run, the staining on this type adds to the appeal of a copper-clad building, whereas on concrete the effect is downright dystopian, creating a sense of abandonment and decay.
I have a pretty good success rate when I search buildings on the Web, but Helsinki has such an abundance of world-class copper-clad architecture that this building seems to have been overlooked by the keepers of the architectural canon in Helsinki.
Photographed in the Fremont Street Experience on an April evening in 2015. In Las Vegas, Nevada, USA.
A warrior clad in chitin armor from morrowind.
A nice way to end 2021 on.
I am a fan of elderscrolls, primarly morrowind due to its story and outlandish plants, creatures and landscapes as well as the buildings.
So heres to another year of lego awsomeness.
Happy building
Dutch postcard by P.F. Cladder, Amsterdam, no. 49-62 kk. Photo: HABÉ Film.
George Formby (1904–1961) was Britain's most popular film comedian between 1934 and 1945, and one of the highest-paid stars. He appeared in 21 hit films, cut over 230 records, and entertained an estimated three million Allied Servicemen during World War II. His trademark was the ukulele - along with his buck-toothed grin.
George Formby was born in Wigan, Lancashire, as George Hoy Booth , the eldest of seven children. His father, George Formby Senior (real name James Booth), was a famous stage actor and comedian. He never wanted any of his family to enter show business and so George, Jr., was apprenticed as a jockey when he was seven and rode his first professional race at ten. On the death of his father in 1921, Formby abandoned his career as a jockey and started his own music hall career using his father's material. In 1924 he married dancer Beryl Ingham, who managed his career until her death in 1960. He allegedly took up the ukulele, for which he was later famous, as a hobby; he first played it on stage for a bet. In film and on stage, he generally adopted the character of an honest, good-hearted but accident-prone innocent who used the phrases: "It's turned out nice again!" as an opening line; "Ooh, mother!" when escaping from trouble; and a timid "Never touched me!" after losing a fistfight. What made him stand out, however, was his unique and often mimicked musical style. He sang comic songs, full of double entendre, to his own accompaniment on the ukelele. Some of his songs were considered too rude for broadcasting. His 1937 song, With my little stick of Blackpool Rock was banned by the BBC because of the lyrics, but Formby's cheerful, innocent demeanor and nasal, high-pitched Lancashire accent neutralized the shock value of the lyrics.
George Formby appeared in a sole silent film, By the Shortest of Heads (1915, Bert Haldane), and in 1934 he made his first sound film Boots! Boots! (1934, Bert Tracy). The film was successful and he signed a contract to make a further 11 with Associated Talking Pictures, which earned him a then-astronomical income of £100,000 per year. In his films he played essentially gormless incompetents, aspiring to various kinds of professional success (as cyclist or jockey) and even more improbably to a middle-class girlfriend, usually in the clutches of some caddish type with a moustache. Invariably he scored on both counts, in such films as No Limit (1935, Monty Banks), Keep Fit (1937, Anthony Kimmins), and Trouble Brewing (1939, Anthony Kimmins). Between 1934 and 1945 Formby was the top comedian in British cinema, and at the height of his film popularity, Let George Do It (1940, Marcel Varnel) with Phyllis Calvert, was exported to America.. This espionage comedy is still regarded as probably his best. He is a member of a concert party, who takes the wrong ship by mistake during a blackout, and finds himself in Norway (mistaking Bergen for Blackpool) as a secret agent. A dream sequence in which he punches Hitler on the nose and addresses him as a ”windbag" is one of the most enduring moments in film comedy. In the post-war years, the Formbys toured Australia and New Zealand, Scandinavia and Canada, and in 1951 George took the West End by storm in the new musical Zip Goes A Million. A weak heart led to his official retirement in 1952 although he had since occasionally appeared on the stage and in pantomimes. His final heart attack occurred at the home of his fiancée, Patricia Howson, 36. The announcement of their engagement was a surprise to many, coming as it did just two months after the death of Beryl. An estimated 100,000 mourners lined the route as his coffin was driven to the cemetary.
Sources: Brian McFarlane (Encyclopedia of British Film), Wikipedia, BBC On This Day, The George Formby Society, and IMDb.
The 2015 HUNKY JESUS CONTEST with THE SISTERS OF PERPETUAL INDULGENCE !
A MUSCLE-BOUND, diaper clad, HUNKY JESUS carrying his toy Easter bunnies, two baby bottles filled with milk, and sucking on a pacifier waddled up on stage much to the delight of Sister ROMA and the crowd. Everyone went in to a wild uproar when he squirted his bottle of milk all over his golden tan, rippled muscled beautiful body a la Flashdance. Milk really do a body good...BABY JESUS won the title of 2015 HUNKY JESUS CONTEST!
The sexy lanky ROLLER DISCO JESUS stunned the crowed with his roller skating antics on stage, ok it was his tight muscled body in a white disco jumpsuit which was ripped open in just the right places !
The EXORCIST JESUS also got the audience howling with his Dr. Frankenfurter black lace , neglige outfit and 6-inch black platform boots.
Afterwards, HUNKY, MUSCLE-BOUND BABY JESUS was pulled aside by tons of people for a photo-op !
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From Stirling's brick-clad "red trilogy" of university buildings in the early 60s, which were instrumental in authorizing the cockeyed functionalist-formalism that undergirded a great deal of international Brutalism. The Smithson-Banham version of that term, as has been much discussed in recent years, was really a matter of self-announcing ascetic utilitarianism: just steel and pipes here, folks - and look how brutally honest we're being about it! Its stealth aesthetics were neoclassical, as Philip Johnson recognized, but they looked like someone had taken the classicism out of Mies.
Stirling's forms also appear to be derived from a functionalist reading, of program rather than construction: just classrooms and lecture halls here, folks. In so doing, he reaches back to a 1920s Modernist sense of form-making, where different programs get different forms. He could have found this in the Bauhaus, or in the engineer-and-accountant "found aesthetic" of industrial complexes, where functionally-driven forms are jammed together based on production sequences. If admiring the look and feel of a factory site - or, likely, a Melnikov workers' club - isn't quite the same as designing according to purely functionalist principles, whatever: the compositions thrilled a whole range of architects looking for new ways of making form under the functionalist umbrella.
A great many Brutalist works to come owe a lot to the finessed form-following seen here. I'm thinking of John Johansen, et al. - but by extension also later architects (especially OMA and their children) who carried forth the massing strategy while punting the material palette. In Stirling's case, what makes it work is pure compositional instinct: while a classical symmetry haunts the composition here, you can't get far enough back, on axis, to see it, and you register instead a dynamically counterpoised game of verticals, horizontals, things flying apart while being held together. That things actually did fly apart, in the form of tiles slipping off the surface of the building, is a whole 'nother story...