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© Photography of Ricardo Gomez Angel
All rights reserved. All images on this website are the property of Ricardo Gomez Angel. Images may not be reproduced, copied or used in any way without written permission.
© Fotografía de Ricardo Gomez Angel
Todos los derechos reservados. Todas las imágenes contenidas en este sitio web son propiedad de Ricardo Gomez Angel. Las imágenes no se pueden reproducir, copiar o utilizar de ninguna manera sin el permiso escrito
Comments are disabled since this is a second posting. Ceramic picnic table at Jose Rodriquez Fuster's art studio. Shot from the second floor looking straight down. The studio is covered in ceramic art and it absolutely beautiful with so much creativity to see. It was the one time on the trip I accidentally held up the tour bus, which was a little embarrassing. See this link en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jos%C3%A9_Rodr%C3%ADguez_Fuster for more info on the artist. Jaimanitas, Cuba, March 2019
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Comments are always welcome and favs most appreciated.
Comentarios y favoritos son siempre bienvenidos
© Photography of Ricardo Gomez Angel
All rights reserved. All images on this website are the property of Ricardo Gomez Angel. Images may not be reproduced, copied or used in any way without written permission.
© Fotografía de Ricardo Gomez Angel
Todos los derechos reservados. Todas las imágenes contenidas en este sitio web son propiedad de Ricardo Gomez Angel. Las imágenes no se pueden reproducir, copiar o utilizar de ninguna manera sin el permiso escrito
Over the years I have taken close to 25,000 photos of my feminine persona. If you consider that I have posted about 3,400 here, that is less than 15% of all the photos I have in my library. Cristy is quite photogenic and 99% of the photos I take are good enough for posting so, how do I select which ones to post? Simple, I select the ones I like based on what I consider acceptable feminine deportment and appearance.
Since the beginning, my intention has been to share my feminine illusion efforts with likeminded people; not to get comments but rather to contribute to set a standard of tasteful and respectful emulation. Poise, attitude, choice of clothes and accessories, are among the factors I take into consideration. My inspiration comes from every single woman that I see and admire for her presentation and deportment. For me it is not a fetish for any item, but rather a representation of how women, my age, currently present. For instance, I don’t wear nylons because women do not wear them anymore and not because I don’t like them.
Fashion is important to me, but I select my clothes based on what I like and consider that would look good on me while reinforcing my feminine illusion. I wear mostly French manicure on my fingernails and toenails because that is what I like. You will never catch me wearing any unusual or trendy nail color or ornament, just because it is in fashion. A woman who is confident in herself wears what she likes and not what a trend sets, or others suggest. That is the kind of woman that I’d like to think I represent. I post old photos along with more current ones because it is not about how I look or what I wear today; it is about the art of feminine illusion regardless of time, fashion or whether it is the first or the Nth photo in that outfit and location.
After explaining my approach, I hope that when you look at my photos, you can see beyond what I am wearing and appreciate or criticize how I am wearing it, and how I measure in performing the feminine role based on that approach. Thanks to my approach, I have always received respectful comments and, over the years, l have deleted very few of them and have had to block less than a handful of people. I read and appreciate every single comment and even more so when they address what I had in mind when posting the photo. However, you should not feel obliged to comment unless you really feel like it and believe that you got something positive, or negative, from the photo, the title, or the text that goes with it.
From now on I will try to share why I choose the photo I am posting and will start with this one.
This photo is the first I will share of a long series of photos taken before and after my first ever religious service as Cristy (more about that in the future). In general, I’d like to think that my choice of clothes was appropriate for the occasion and that I was able to blend in, although I realized that I was a bit overdressed. A very feminine fit and flare dress with colorful flower print, by Maggie London, was, in my opinion, quite suitable, as were the Kate Spade flats that completed the look for Church. Nothing flashy or revealing here, as it should be. This dress would look great with a pair of heels too but would not be appropriate for attending Catholic Mass. For the pose I tried to be as demure as possible with my hands resting on my lap and my legs crossed in a very feminine manner with my feet pointing down (something that I find hard to do because my articulations are quite rigid).
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A través de los años, he acumulado casi 25,000 fotos de mí personificación femenina.Si consideramos que he compartido aquí cerca de 3,400, esto es menos del 15% de todas las fotos que tengo en mi colección. Cristy es bastante fotogénica y el 99% de las fotos son suficientemente buenas para compartir. ¿Cuál, entonces, es el criterio que uso para elegir las que comparto? Sencillo, elijo las que más me gustan con base a lo que considero una apariencia y presentación femenina aceptables.
Desde el inicio, mi intención ha sido compartir mis esfuerzos en ilusión femenina con personas como yo; no para obtener comentarios sino para contribuir a establecer un estándar de emulación femenina respetuoso y de buen gusto. Postura, actitud, elección de ropa y accesorios, son, entre otros, los factores que tomo en consideración. Mi inspiración viene de cada mujer que veo y admiro por su presentación y desenvolvimiento. Para mi no se trata de un fetichismo por algún tipo de prenda, sino que de una representación de cómo una mujer, de mi edad, luce en estos tiempos. Por ejemplo, no uso medias porque las mujeres ya no las usan y no porque no me guste usarlas.
La moda es importante para mí, pero elijo la ropa con base a lo que me gusta y considero que se vería bien en mí y que contribuya a reforzar la ilusión femenina. Por lo general uso esmalte de uñas en estilo francés porque es lo que me gusta. Jamás verán mis uñas pintadas don los colores drásticos que están de moda, con distintos adornos y colores en cada uña, solo porque está de moda. Una mujer segura de sí misma se viste como ella quiere y no como lo dicta la moda o le sugieren otras personas. Este es el tipo de mujer que quisiera pensar que represento. Subo fotos viejas junto con recientes porque no se trata de compartir cómo luzco hoy o qué llevo puesto, sino que se trata de emulación femenina sin importar la fecha, la moda o si es la primera o enésima foto con esa ropa y en ese lugar.
Luego de exponerles mi enfoque, espero que al ver mis fotos puedan ver más allá de lo que llevo puesto y aprecien o critiquen la manera en que lo llevo puesto y que tan bien logro mi objetivo en desempeñar el rol femenino, con base a este enfoque. Gracias a este enfoque, siempre he recibido comentarios respetuosos y, a través de los años, he tenido que borrar muy pocos y he bloqueado a menos de 5 personas. He leído y apreciado cada comentario recibido y más aún cuando se relacionan con lo que tenía en mente al compartir la foto. Sin embargo, no tienen por qué sentir el compromiso de comentar a no ser que realmente piensen que obtuvieron algo positivo, o negativo, de la foto, del título o del texto que la acompaña.
en adelante intentaré compartir los motivos por los cuales elegí compartir la foto que subo y empezaré con esta.
Esta foto es la primera que compartiré de muchas que me tomaron antes y después de mi primer servicio religioso como Cristy (y ales contaré más en el futuro). En general, quisiera pensar que mi elección de ropa fue adecuado para la ocasión y que pude integrarme al entorno. El vestido muy femenino, ceñido arriba, falda amplia y estampado floral (Maggie London) era muy adecuado en mi opinión, así como las zapatillas sin tacón de Kate Spade que completaban el look para asistir a la iglesia. Nada llamativo o revelador, como debe de ser. Este vestido se vería muy bien con tacones pero no habría sido apropiado para asistir a la misa Católica. En cuanto a la pose, intenté lucir relajada con mis manos sobre el regazo las piernas cruzadas en forma femenina y sencilla, mientras intento apuntar mis pies hacia abajo (algo que me cuesta mucho porque mis articulaciones son muy rígidas)
Certitudes - Incertitudes. [Explored 2019 October 2nd]
LACPIXEL - 2019
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dedicato a Giancarlo (Gianva)
Stamattina (era ancora buio) 6 ottobre, Franco mi ha portato all’Oasi di Ortazzo (Ra) sperando di riuscire a fotografare il martin pescatore ( è più facile a dirsi che a farsi)
Dopo ore di appostamento siamo riusciti a fotografarlo , incredibile , per me è stata una grande emozione al punto che mi è stata fatale , tutto in fretta e..... le foto non sono perfette , ma credetimi siamo tornati a casa soddisfatti .
Il martin pescatore comune o martin pescatore europeo (Alcedo atthis) è la specie più diffusa di martin pescatore, e l'unica presente in Europa. È lungo 15-16 cm e pesa 40-44 grammi circa. È molto diffuso in Europa, Asia e Africa.
Le piume sono sgargianti, di colori tra il blu e il verde, ma sul collo e sulla gola si notano evidenti macchie bianche. Le parti superiori presentano una colorazione che a seconda della rifrazione della luce può risultare blu brillante o verde smeraldo. Il petto, invece, ha una colorazione arancione vivace per i maschi, più castana per le femmine.
La testa è abbastanza grande, con un becco lungo, robusto nero; le ali e la coda corti raccolgono il corpo. Le zampette sono piccole e di un rosso intenso. Di solito il maschio ha colori più vivaci della femmina, perché durante il corteggiamento gli servono per conquistarla con le sue sfumature.
Lo si osserva spesso posato sui rami o sui paletti presso l'acqua, da dove si tuffa per catturare le sue prede.
In genere vola basso, rasente l'acqua, il suo volo è veloce, con un frullo d'ali. Spesso fa lo "spirito santo". Riesce cioè a rimanere fermo in volo sopra la superficie dell'acqua fino a che, individuata la preda, si getta in picchiata catturandola nel breve lasso di tempo di due o tre secondi.
PS nel becco un piccolo vermetto
Oasi di Ortazzo (Ra) 6 ottobre 2012
postata il 7 ottobre alle ore 8.03
se avete 30 secondi guardate gli scatti di Franco , tutta un'altra cosa
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... est-ce que je pouvais exprimer les sentiments qui m'habitent en ce moment? Entre l'ombre et la lumière, les larmes, inévitables, pour les relier. A force de chercher dans mon stock d'images, j'ai fini par retrouver celle-ci, qui est parfaite pour ce que j'ai à dire, à suggérer.
I am not so much to express too private feelings. But sometimes, they are just overwhelming. I searched for quite a time in my stock of pictures until I found this one.
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I You were tagged by me please see why in the comments Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)
The alternate version of Chronicles of lifting Light B ( Bridesmaids) - Album
“The wedding was a little over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honor wore a red silk version; the six Bridesmaids wore theirs in black satin.”
“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. Ginny pointed out to me a model who was wearing fetchingly a long black satin gown, That’s m’ gown Ginny exclaimed, you remember, the one I wore at “Sheila’s” wedding, the one where my necklace was.., But at that point her attention was diverted back to her program. Squirrel I teased as Sam and I watched with her.
It was a gown strikingly very similar in colour, cut, and material to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at a chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny sporting it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would never encounter…….”
Chronicles of lifting Light C
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This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened.
What we did may sound daft, but read and understand the circumstances, plus realize we all were pretty well lit up with drink.
I have enhanced certain aspects of the story, but not as much as on my first draft, for that one came out sounding more farfetched than it should have.
For indeed, truth can be stranger than fiction… and coincidences occur, both sweet and bitter….. as I’m sure someone once said.
So here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed, not unwillingly, into service.
At the reception my Ginny made a comment about the flimsy clasps on the rhinestone jewelry they were wearing. My Sister, touched her necklace, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. Except my ring isn’t, said Ginny looking down at the ruby ring she was wearing on her pinky. My sister, thinking a minute, retorted “Then one never knows… “ , It looked like she was going to add something, but at that point the band restarted, and we joined the swarm of fancy gowns, silky dresses, suits and tuxes heading to the dance floor.
As we headed off, I was still perplexed about what had been going on in Sis’s head that made her come out with that reply, and I swear she had stolen a look at me while saying it. But as I had watched her pull at an earring to emphasize how loose the sparkling jewel was, a seed was planted in my head about a subject I myself had always found fascinating, pickpocketing jewelry!
Much later that evening, found Brian, me sister, and I alone, and probably more than a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). As Sis and Brain chatted on about a topic I had lost interest in, I started to watch Ginny, who had been asked to dance by some twit with shifty eyes in a red silk shirt, (open colored), who had rudely cut in on us. As I watched Ginny’s swishing gown move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the manner in which her healthy display of rhinestones were sparkling about( as they had been all evening). I looked back at my sister, and her own show of jewelry, sparkling up nicely against a black satin backdrop.
Still not being able to shake me twin’s earlier comment, nor its answer, out of my head about nicking jewels, I finally chanced asking my twin about her comments. She looked at me, having to think back a bit about the question, ( As I said, we were more drunk than sober by then), placing a nicely ringed finger to her lips, while regrouping her thoughts. Got it, she exclaimed proudly remembering what had triggered her memory, and started to explain.
When she was a tyke of about 7, there was a show that she had seen on the tele that centered on this group of people trying to reform a thief. Believing that he had turned a new leaf, they threw a fancy dance for him in honor of his new ways. During the dance, he cut in and danced with each of the three ladies who had been trying to teach him the errors of his ways. From one he slipped off her long diamond earrings, from a second her diamond necklace was lifted away, but me sister was unsure what the scoundrel took from the third. Sis thought that the earrings and necklaces that she and Ginny were wearing that evening, looked a lot like the ones from that show.
Now, as me twin described the thief’s antics, certain emotions awakened, rearing their tantalizing heads; my mind began wandering in some deep waters, pulled bout by some deep personal emotions. Cause I had been sitting on the couch with her, when as quite young children, we had first seen that episode.
As it happened my sister had been outside earlier playing dress up in on of mum’s old party gowns and was still wearing it, along with a set of costume pearls. Suddenly, that day, I wanted nothing more in the world than to lift the pearls she was wearing. I simmered over it for the rest of the program, getting to the point of actually laying my arm on the back of the couch, inching my fingers towards the clasp of her pearls laying there upon the back of her throat. But then the show ended, and I got no closer to stealing anything more than a touch of a really soft old evening gown. After the show ended, I warily suggested we go back outside and play Robin Hood (my sister has always been into his story).
We did, and as Sir Robin led her to his hideout, conveniently located through a thicket of Hawthorne’s, the pretty Maid Marion’s pearls mysteriously melted away.
That is when I had I had my epiphany, hitting me like a brick wall! Waiting till sis finished her story, I pointed out to Ginny, and asked the pair, If Ginny had been the third lady he had danced with, what jewelry do you think he would have lifted from her while dancing?
Brian , always the more pragmatic of the group, snorted, that’s stuff that only happens in stories and movies. I said I would bet it can be done, a quid says I can lift a piece of Ginny’s jewelry with her never noticing. Sis chimed in, you wouldn’t dare, but she was looking at me like she knew the answer already. Brian caught her tone, and took me up on it, betting me the quid that I couldn’t get away with lifting her necklace,( I liked his choice, it had been a necklace that “Sir Robin” had first lifted from me sisters neck that day in the woods long past).
At this time the music ended, and Ginny swished back to rejoin us. We drank and talked for a bit more, and I’m was all but certain Brian and my sister had all but forgotten the wager. But I hadn’t, nor had I been able to keep my eyes from studying the rhinestones Ginny had wrapped around her pretty throat. When a slow song started up, I rose and asked Ginny to a dance. I caught Brian’s eyes, and read the dare reflecting in them, so we were still on with the wager. Leading Ginny to the dance floor, we embraced, and danced to the pretty song, a slow one. Ginny was absolute pure heaven in my arms, and I found me self so entrapped that I never made an attempt upon her lovely rhinestone necklace.
As the song was ending, I caught a look from Brian across the dance floor, noticing that he smugly was looked at Ginny’s throat. I did not want to lose me quid on principle (I swear), so as the dance ended I held onto Ginny, waiting. Soon a second song started, disappointedly a more fast paced one with a Latin beat. I spun Ginny around onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath, we danced, like the song says:
And we… danced like a wave on the ocean, romanced
We were liars in love and we danced
Swept away for a moment by chance
And we danced, danced, danced
And dance we did, hot, furious and fast. A couple of times I spun Ginny around, and the poor girl already a bit tipsy, fell against me, giggling. About the third time I spun her, she stopped, and dropped backside into me and began to do this sort of gyrating move, slithering up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head, her longish ginger hair had fallen over one shoulder, exposing her necklace in all its fine brilliance. As her warm, sweaty figure slipped up and down against mine, I watched the back of her throat, eyeing the necklace as it sparkled brilliantly in the dim lights. Studying intently the sparkly chain with it’s the hook in eye clasp.
She brought her hands down behind me back, crossing them behind me waist. My right hand went to the front of her waist, holding onto her squirming, satin slippery figure, pressing it tightly against me. My left hand went up to her shoulder, gliding along the glossy slick fabric of her black satin gown, until I reached her necklace. It only took seconds for my fingers to lift, and slip off the hook from its”eye” , letting the shimmering chain slither down the front side of Ginny’s satin clad breasts. My right hand left her waist, and travelled nimbly, tingling, all the way up the front until my fingers grasped the dangling chain. My left hand let go, and the necklace whisked down the front of her perking bosom, tightly covered by the glossy black satin bridesmaid gown. The whole bit of thievery took me only a few chords of the music, but it seemed a lot longer in the process. We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that my gyrating partner was innocently unaware that her shiny necklace was absent from around her throat, and now resided in her dance partners vest pocket.
We made our way back to the others, Brian had a smug look on his bearded face, I knew he was up to something. As I sat down, he whispered double it or nothing mate, that she notices it’s missing before we leave. I nodded, taking him up on it. So, the game was still on, and for the last two hours that we stayed at the reception, Brain waiting for Ginny to notice her missing necklace, I tried to distract her as much as I could, even with me sister constantly played with her necklace whenever she held Ginny’s attention, but the poor creature never caught on that her necklace had been lifted.
We finally left the reception after midnight and made our way along the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself. Ginny walked calmly with us, unaware of the devils that were us, keeping pace beside her. As were making our way through a short cut in a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small isolated glen and circled around Ginny. Sis was grinning as she asked poor unawares Ginny, So luv, whatever did happen to your necklace? Gin’s reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.
Ginny, a relatively innocent soul, who is prone to believing most anything told to her, started, and her hand went to her throat, feeling about fruitlessly, as her rustling glossy gown and remaining jewels glistened dark in the full moons’ light. “M’ necklace, why it’s gone? , where did it go!, she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. We than got into it, playing dumb along with her, and tried to figure out the “mystery” I said the last time I saw it was when that seedy bloke cut in, and I ran my hand up her back, feeling the shivers going down her spine, did the blighter touch you like that, then luv. No she said, then thought hard, no she repeated, he couldn’t have, he was a proper gentleman, and it was only rhinestone, like your sister said. My sister commented that the bloke may have not noticed no difference, and she held out her own necklace, I’m glad the bloke didn’t ask me to dance. No, Ginny shook her head, her long earrings flickering a frenzied fire out from her hair, no one could have lifted them like that, I’d have felt it….
She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, Ginny froze with the realization that we had all been up to something, and, then a smile of relief showed up on her pretty face, as I held up her necklace, sparkling in front of her eyes. A sly look of understanding that we had been up to something crept into those dazzling green eyes , as she told us now to spill it out.
We explained the whole tale as sis helped Ginny place her necklace back on. Ginny, with her usual good humor, said she had never noticed a thing, and it probably was a good thing we weren’t real thieves, because if her necklace had been real, it would have been worth a small fortune. And shame on us for having her believe it was that poor blighter in the red shirt.
We wouldn’t’ make very good thieves I agreed we drink too much. She just smiled, a curious gleam creeping up into those witchy green eyes of hers. Let’s get going before we meet a real thief then, urged my sister, all this talk about someone thinking our jewels are real is giving me the chills.
Our drunken little group then merrily, if not a little more guardedly, made our way home..
This next bit is my favorite.
We rode the elevator up to the boy’s room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked on a bit about the reception. The girls stayed in dress and I happily soaked up the pretty picture the pair of admirably attractive girls presented with their long sheets of straight hair just hanging down, their diamonds sparkling and all other assorted frills enticing. About two hours later found Brian and myself sitting on the couch in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto our beers. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of us, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the swaying of their long glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.
Brain, draining a beer, got up to get another, bumping against my sister and playfully grabbing a handful. My sister started giggling at him as he sauntered off grinning, turning her figure so the brooch at the center of her gowns’ waistline almost hit me on the nose. Half asleep I reached over and lifted it up.
Looking up at the girls I saw that neither was paying no never mind towards me. Ginny, however, laid a hand on my twins shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper some girlish secret about Brian. I continued on, and was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I slipped her jewel into my pocket; until I could think of what it was I was going to do with it to tease me twin sister.
Brian stopped on the way back and reset the music, a slow song. Sis went to him, and the pair started dancing. I rose and taking Ginny by the hand, followed suit, leading her to the bit of a dance floor we had cleared. She was again, pure heaven in my arms as my hands slipped liberally up and down her smooth, slinky gowned figure. Ginny smiled, I knew that smile, and realized that something was going on behind her pretty green eyes. She flicked back her sheet of ginger hair, and leaned against me. I saw you, she whispered, her voice putting a tickle in my ear. Saw me I asked, not getting it. I saw you lift that dame’s diamond brooch, Ginny said in a sultry voice as she looked over towards where my sister was dancing, (no, she was actually swooning), in Brian’s arms. You see that one over there, in the black dancing with the bearded gent? I looked over, as she continues, look at ‘er necklace, I have a fancy for it, and if you don’t want me to call security, I suggest you get it for me, darling, she said, like she was some old time actress in a movie. I loved the devilishness of Ginny’s role play idea and threw me whole heart and soul into it.
Check out the Sonia clip shortcut at the end of my tale( recommend viewing)
Now wide awake, I got fully into Ginny’s game. As we continued dancing my eyes watched Brian and me sister, taking careful inventory of all her sparkling jewelry. Sis turned, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me. As I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up, I was imagining that all of her ample collection of rhinestones so prettily positioned on her figure, were real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief after her lovely sparklers. I looked into Ginny’s eyes. You have a deal miss, I whispered, making my voice deep and throaty, as I imagined meself as Humphrey Bogart type character in some shadowy film noir movie.
The song ended and a second, even slower one began playing. Brian and my sister were still locked into each other’s arms, but I felt that the time to make my move was now. Throwing Ginny a wink, I went over and cut in, Brian looked drunkenly at me like “whattsup chap,” but Ginny was right behind and swirled him away before he could properly react.
And as I took the pretty, wide eyed with innocence looking “dame” into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my intentions. Naïvely unaware, that in indifference to her own words earlier, someone did now want to nick the jewelry so merrily dangling from her svelte figure. Don’t forget at this point she was no longer my sister, but my sweet victim, and I was nothing more than a thief hungering after her bright baubles, albeit, a slightly inebriated thief!
I bided my time, appearing to look into my twins half opened eyes ( she was really lit by this time, as we all were) , my mind was working overtime on how to best approach my objective.
Employing the same method that the thief had used in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment my twin on how devastating her and Ginny looked both looked that evening (no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back until I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering row of single “diamonds”. She ate it up, blushing and closing her eyes, tilting her head down, exposing even more of the back of her throat, and laying bare the chain of her “diamond” necklace. As she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, I subtly lifted up the chain of her necklace, holding her ever so her tightly around the waist. As I felt the heat emanating from her figure, I used my free left hands’ fingers to unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over her one shoulder. Sis never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I peeled it off her chest (whisking along smooth as silk) and pulled it over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I pocketed it, letting it join her purloined brooch.
Meanwhile, Brian had left Ginny to go to the loo, and I saw Ginny, who had been watching all of it, give me a wink. Then she turned and stole out the apartment door, her longish slinking gown slipping through behind her as she closed the door. I made ready to make some excuse to break away from my sister and head after her with my loot.
But just as I opened my mouth to make that excuse , Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her own head back on my shoulder and closed her tired eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. One of her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there sparkling, mocking me to touch it, and like Gingers diamonds, was ripe for the picking.
With the prize within my grasp, I momentarily forgot about the departing Ginny, and I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ear, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled. The rest of the maneuver was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the earring in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauty came away from her sweaty ear as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held it in one fist for a bit, watching my victim, she had not felt so much as a tickle on her earlobe, as I had taken her earring. Relishing in my success, I looked at it dangling and shimmering in my hand behind her back. Then I secured her diamond away. I thought about trying for the other, but thought better of it, knowing Ginny was just waiting on the other side of the door.
I finished out the dance, taking my sisters hand with its dazzling bracelet and rings, and admired them while I kissed it. I’d better be off after Ginny I said, and then let go of her hand. Nice doing business with you I said, bemused as I watched the puzzlement creep into her eyes. That is how I left her.
However it was my turn to look puzzled as I went out, Ginny was nowhere to be seen. I quickly looked around, then headed to the elevator and rode down in it, alone at this early morning hour, to the lobby.
I arrived there, and at first the lobby appeared deserted, cept for a lonely desk clerk with her head buried in a novel. Then breathed a sigh of relief, there, around a corner, Ginny stood talking to some older lady wearing a garish grey pant suit, with this blue tinted helmet of curly hair covered by a large silk head scarf, and carrying an overlarge purse. I suddenly realized that now my anxiety had gone, another urge had taken its place. Ginny looked up, and smiles happily at me, and I smiled back, indicated that I had to go for a minute, and headed meself to the loo.
Coming out after I finished, I saw that the lobby was actually now really empty, not even the desk clerk was visible. Thinking Ginny may have gone back upstairs, I first went to the hotels double doors to chance a look outside onto the street below. I just caught sight of a wisp of black gown moving just out of sight past the stairs, on the now smoggy sidewalk below.
I headed out, and there was Ginny walking with the Blue haired stranger, they appeared to be looking for something. I started wondering if Ginny had invited this stranger to go on out walk with us? But no, apparently the blue haired lady in the unfortunate grey pantsuit had discovered her keys were missing, and thought they had dropped somewhere after getting out of a taxi just around the corner. And Ginny, bless her kind heated soul, had offered to help the distressed lady look for them.
As Ginny was telling me all this after I had caught up, the blue haired older lady , her cheerful face now stern, had started rummaging in her large shoulder bag, I sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw that is contained quite an amazing assortment of items , ( no wonder it had to be so big). Suddenly she uttered an exclamation, found them she said, triumphantly pulling out an interesting assortment of skeleton type keys on a small ring. Happily smiling at Ginny, she pulled her into an enveloping hug for her efforts, before quickly leaving, but not without first giving me a sidelong glance with a disapproving look from her now pursed–lipped mouth as she passed. But I at the time put it down as her just being stressed out from believing she had misplaced her keys.
I am so glad she found her keys remarked Ginny, taking up me hand. That lady was ever so nice, she wanted to know where I had been dressed up all pretty like I am, and when I told her about the wedding, she said it must have been lovely. Then she admired me dress, and rhinestones. Then asked if me ruby ring was a gift from the bride. Liked your ring huh, I asked Ginny, my mind clearing up a little. Oh yes she said, lifted my hand, looked at it an everything!
Then the poor dear missed her keys, and asked if I could be a dear and help her look outside, and that was that until you showed up. (Looking outside for keys at 2:30 in the morning? I thought to myself) As I said ti Ginny, it is a pretty ring, and taking her arm, we started down the block together.
My mind, now somewhat attuned to the reality of things, went back to the blue haired lady and her large shoulder bag. Among some of various items I had seen had been a penknife, a length of old silk sash cord, small bundle of lacy handkerchiefs, and a small torch! Then add in the odd assortment of keys on her “misplaced” keyring, and put it all together, it all began to sum up to a new, slightly more sinister meaning of her intentions, in my take on the episode.
As we walked, I said nothing in reply to the happily chirping, richly attired girl walking beside me , as for the first time, and not the last, I wondered if something had been afoot with the Blue Haired, pursed mouthed lady that Ginny had seen as a kind older lady needed help, like the bird with a broken wing she had tried to help a few days past( a blue jay!). So was the blue haired lady, with the silk scarf and wearing a rather unisexual pantsuit, acting out the part of a “blue jay”, using her “broken wing” as a ruse to lure my Ginny safely away for her own nefarious reasons?
Surreptitiously, I carefully checked over Ginny from head to heeled toes as we walked, to make sure nothing was amiss. Her rhinestones were still safely all in their place, but I did not see the ruby ring, and me heart went still, and chills prickled down my spine! Bullocks! I swore under my breath, that pucker faced tart walked away with it. Ginny, I said, a little choked, she swirled facing me, her green eyes questioning, as she raised her hand to her perked breasts, and there it was, the small, but rather pricey, ruby ring she so loved wearing, the glittery darling had turned around on her finger so it was hidden from my view
.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, I just wanted to say how lovely you looked this evening my lass, I said saving myself. She smiled winningly, giving me a deep hug for my words. We walked on, as my beating heart slowed down, I convinced myself that maybe the incident of lost keys had all been harmless, and I was just being a worry-wort. I apologized silently for what I had called the fashion challenged blue haired lady in my mind. But I was still beginning to feel like ever a fool to have let Ginny, handsomely decked out as she was, out of my sight at this early hour of the morning.
I opened my mind and let all such thoughts flee my head, for the world was now ours, as we made our journey together, hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial Park, and reentering the same isolated, secret glen we had been in earlier, proceeded to continue acting out the role playing game we had started at the apartment.
Ginny went to the middle of the clearing to wait, pretending she was smoking, like a moll from a gangster movie. I circled and watched her sparkling figure, black in the glens shadows, move about a bit.
And as I did, my thoughts wondered a bit, and I remember reflecting ( not for the first time) how in the older black n whites, the heroine, or villainous, is always wearing gowns, elegant long gloves, and jeweled to the sparkling hilt. Then she walks alone to and then waits in some dark alley or other desolate spot for her contact, or hero to show up, much like Ginny was acting out now. So how is it that those fancy dressed and well jeweled unescorted dames, always manage to get to those spots, and are able to wait around in them alone, in those movies, and nary ever meet a ruffian who strips them of those pricy looking sparklers they are flaunting about? Just saying!
Saying a brief prayer that my thoughts were not tempting a fate of that type to occur to us now that I had been thinking it, I came out of the shadows and approached Ginny. Keeping my left hand in my pocket like I was carrying a heater. Hey sister, I said, been waiting long? No, she whispered, did you get the goods. Hot as ice I said proudly, producing the necklace and earring I had liberated from the dancing “dame”.
As I showed Ginny my take from “the dame”, she squealing over the fact I was able to take one of her diamond earrings, bonus she chanted. We laughed over what the “dames” reaction would be when the jewels were discovered missing. As we snickered, Ginny caught my eyes and then we got off on a tangent about jewel thieves in love, and ended up reenacting the “lure” scene from the movie ‘To Catch a Thief” ending up producing fireworks of our own making as Ginny lost all her jewels as well as her “innocence”.. We then made our way back home, as the cock crows, receiving a few odd looks from the occasional early morning lorry drivers.
And above all, I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I had sauntered our way to the park. And why not, I ask? Cause not only did I get to stroll about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, But I also had totally scored a hat trick in the jewelry lifting department, collecting two Quid to boot, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, isn’t it?
So ends my story, of which I have written 2 versions.
My question is now this:
Which version, if one reads both, do you believe to be the truer?
Please leave a comment at the end of the story you believe is..
In appreciation,
Thank You
*************************************** ****************************************
In Appraisal
Tis story may be unique in its nature, but if not we would love to hear about it. Please leave a comment or drop an email ( or both) about you own experience.
Thank You
The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommend viewing)
youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk
My Facebook page: Moments | Photography
Well its not the first time I have captured ghosts in my shots. Check out my first comment to see the other shot with ghosts but this is different in 2 ways
1. The ghost in this case is me :))
2. In my previous shot, I selectively colored the ghosts and kept everything in B&W .. in this one I did the inverse. That's me in B&W, keeping everything else in its natural color.
I wanted to depict something like time travel, where I've been transported to this different era and am gazing at these marvelous structures in amazement.
I got this from my last weeks trip to Golconda fort in Hyderabad. I loved this part of the fort and although it looks quite bright in this shot, it was a very dark place so I had to use long exposure of 8 seconds to get this much light into the frame. I ran and stood there for 4 of those 8 seconds to get the ghosting effect.
Hope you guys have a enjoyable weekend. I'm planning to go out again for a photowalk, will keep you guys posted. Have fun everybody!
** swapped main & #6 in comments because i liked it better too. :) +10 in comments, all are sooc
i lost my ring, the one i always wear, on this shoot :( i know for certain it fell off there...i just can't believe i didn't notice. not that it would have mattered anyway, since we were in such a grassy area i doubt i could ever have found it anyway. kinda upset about that though.
other model is anna, check out her photostream :)
also, you should write in my formspring so i can procrastinate studying for my chem test tomorrow :D
Empire, MI 1987
A comment by Andrew Sea about the previous upload provoked a little nostalgia, so I dug up these two photographs taken at Sleeping Bear Dunes near Empire, Michigan in 1987. The black and white is by me taken with a Fuji GSW690II and the color was shot by my wife with a Canonet QL 17 GIII.
If you're not already familiar with the wonderful work of Andrew Sea, check it out here:
A comment about my surf captures missing something has made me wonder if I should consider stop photographing them...
I have other things to do with my valuable time.
Hello friends
first thanks for all the comments last days
much appreciated !
i'm a little busy with the lambs
much greetings all the animals on the farm
Caroline XXX
The last of my trip images, thanks for your comments and taking the time to travel with me! Hopefully the weather will perk up soon and I can take some more photos on home turf!
Korykos Castle, locally known as Korykos Kalesi, lies at the beach next to the town of Kizkalesi in the province of Mersin in Turkey.
Together with the opposite Kizkalesi Castle, a supplementary castle on a small island in the bay of Kizkalesi, this coastal castle protected the port of Korykos and of course their histories are linked closely together and almost identical. Korykos Castle was also the principal guardian of the strategic coastal road between the towns of Silifke and Tarsus.
In ancient times there was an antique harbor city named Korykos or Corycus here. It is possible that the site of Korykos was heavily fortified prior to the Arab invasions, but there is no evidence to confirm this.
Around 1099 Korykos was conquered by the Byzantines. The erection of the castles can probably be credited to the reign of the Byzantine emperor Alexios I Komnenos. Except for reconstruction during and after the Armenian period of occupation in the late 12th century(far more extensive in the sea castle than in the land castle), the circuit walls and towers of both castles date from the early 12th century.
The emperor's daughter, Anna Comnena, tells us that the royal eunuch Eustathius was dispatched as an admiral and was directed to fortify Korykos and more southerly Silifke. The strategy was to defend it from any possible seizure by the Crusader Bohemund I de Guiscard. A large garrison was maintained at Korykos and Silifke under the command of a certain Strategus Strabo. Exactly when the Armenians occupied the Byzantine castles at Korykos is unknown.
By 1198/99 the site seems to have been under the control of Leo I, King of Armenian Cilicia, as Simon, the Baron of Korykos, was in attendance at his coronation. Following Vahram's brief tenure as Lord of Korykos (1210-12), the Hethumid Baron Oshin held the position until the late 1260's. In the 4th quarter of the 13th century the Armenian historian Hethum followed Grigoris as master of the port. Some years later he died tragically in a battle against the Mamluks. In 1318 Hethum's son, another Oshin, took 300 troops from the garrison at Korykos Castle and succeeded (temporarily) in driving out a band of Turks.
In 1360 Peter I, the King of Cyprus, assumed control over Korykos when it became clear that the Mamluks were soon to conquer all of Cilicia. Robert of Lusignan was dispatched from Cyprus to administer the port. With Cypriot assistance the residents of Korykos were able to repulse a Karamanid attack in 1367. This fortified port proved to be a profitable toll station until its capture by the Karamanids in 1448.
Korykos Castle is built on the relatively flat ground of the rocky shore and is characterized by the almost square shape of a tight double trace with square towers. This is the only fully concentric plan for a fortification in Cilicia. In the southern corner there is a sea gate and the north east side of the castle is protected by a deep ditch cut out of the rock.
At present Korykos Castle can be visited for a small fee. This is a great castle ruin with lots to explore.
Comments are always welcome and favs most appreciated.
Comentarios y favoritos son siempre bienvenidos
© Photography of Ricardo Gomez Angel
All rights reserved. All images on this website are the property of Ricardo Gomez Angel. Images may not be reproduced, copied or used in any way without written permission.
© Fotografía de Ricardo Gomez Angel
Todos los derechos reservados. Todas las imágenes contenidas en este sitio web son propiedad de Ricardo Gomez Angel. Las imágenes no se pueden reproducir, copiar o utilizar de ninguna manera sin el permiso escrito
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but will be returning faves "Share + Look"
All best wish happy and take care 2021
Aber Lin
Feb/19/2021
Wieder einer dieser Klassiker, die Fischerhütte am Ammersee in SW zur blauen Stunde
Thank you for the visit, the favs and the nice comments
Nikon D3200 and Nikon 35mm 1.8 shot in RAW with polariser in aperture mode.
Thanks for all comments and awards Copy rights reserved by author M FAZLY photography
All comments regarding this picture, subject, composition, etc are welcome and appreciated. TIA.
To see more pictures of Bald Eagles, please visit my Bald Eagle album at www.flickr.com/photos/black_cat_photography/albums/721577...
To learn more about these magnificent birds please visit www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Bald_Eagle
***PLEASE!!! NO MULTI-GROUP OR STRING GROUP INVITATIONS. ONLY ONE GROUP INVITE PER COMMENTOR. THANK YOU!!!***
A bright and showy Amur Adonis, Adonis amurensis. This plant is in the Family Ranunculaceae, and is found in Siberia, China, Korea and Japan. It was shot in the "Ladies Border" near the Conservatory at the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx, New York.
You can visit this great garden spot at www.nybg.org.