View allAll Photos Tagged conceptual
Seascapes with Atmosphere | Sines 2023
Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change.
William Shakespeare
Photo 3
Take a look at my album about this theme and let me know what do you think about it :)
https://www.flickr.com/photos/ruteselesio/albums/72157660563693837
I miss conceptual photography. I miss your feedback. I miss photography of feelings. I miss self-portraits.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Fits with the piece "Landing. Exorcism" from a few years ago which you can see here: www.flickr.com/photos/119031734@N04/49943837126/in/datepo.... More of my images mimic a subject facing away from window light these days. Selfie. Chose the dress because the texture resembled the wall. Sharps captured in-camera with ye old practical effects. Fan on the floor blowing directly upward. Detail on IG: www.instagram.com/p/CzNFRXxraVC/?img_index=1
Would make a perfect Two of Swords tarot card, but unlike other metaphors and mythology, metaphysical woo has the pesky habit of being taken literally. Pseudoscience kills a perfectly good aesthetic.
Strobist info: small flash in white beauty dish CR at high angle, single flash CL for fill aimed at the ceiling through a small diffuser. Radio trigger.
Copyright © 2018 by Craig Paup. All rights reserved.
Any use, printed or digital, in whole or edited, requires my written permission.
pt1/2
“It was the Fortnight of Devotion, a two-week remembrance of the Gods. Although it was a celebration full of lavish offerings and sacrifices, it was conducted more out of fear than excitement. Brutal was the wrath of pantheon, and no time of the calendar year was more sacred. Unfortunately, there was a distraction of almost equal concern.
The two most powerful houses, Eratu and Dormian, were on the brink of war. The death of a bride promised to House Eratu was quite peculiar, and when factoring in the shift in power it would have caused, the death was also quite damning to House Dormian. Quarreling of any kind was strictly forbidden during the Fortnight of Devotion, but anger and vengeance could not be suppressed.
The armies lined up on the Withering Plains, hatred and venom seething from their souls. As the trumpets sounded and the men began to march towards the slaughter, ominous clouds, dark as a crow's feather, gathered above them. Their wholly unsanctioned and selfish actions had infuriated the Gods, and the sky opened up. Rain began to fall, but as the unnatural droplets approach the earth they grew long and slender, their tips narrowing to sharpened points. The tears of the heavens poured down, showering the battlefield in righteous death.” -M.D. Walter
“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”
― Maya Angelou
It's been a long time coming but I'm finally on my way to where I want to be.
Like any other 20 something-year-olds, I was unsure of what I wanted to be. On the year 2015, I finally realized what I wanted out of this life and my ideas are just growing since then.
It's been a lot of sacrifices, self-doubt, and feeling of lost especially when people are telling you to just go back to corporate prison or what you're doing won't guarantee success. But isn't failure always part of the equation? Failure is always a given.
The journey till now had been rough. I've failed many times but finally I'm here and making progress. Hardly anything life changing but starting is always the momentum needed.
129/365
(Press L!)
I am still alive.
Sort of.
~I've been so exhausted these past few weeks, mentally and physically, I haven't taken any photos. (I am so behind now... ) My creativity and general mental health has really started to fall down the drain. I need this 365. A photo a day keeps my brain flowing, and constantly visiting nature restores my mind into a peaceful and calm state, I have found. If I don't spend time outdoors, I get really agitated by little things, and I want to scream and break things. Also, the constant noise throughout school and home everyday drives me crazy. I have returned.
Hello everyone.~
About this photo... I'm not really sure how I feel about it. I wish I could spend more time editing it to a finer touch, but I guess I'll leave it to other photos. Over time I'll get better at skin-patching.
I need to sleep.
Its a photo montage of four different photos processed with Photoshop CS5. This is based on my conceptual series BEYOND THE HORIZON.
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All viewers r requested to consider it as a PHOTO ART, cause I love to process the photographs with my wide open imagination. And I'm not a PHOTO JOURNALIST, I'm a PROUD PHOTO ARTIST.
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Reproducing the reproduction. Analogical & Digital. Slide, slide frame, framed....
"...for the first time in world history, mechanical reproduction emancipates the work of art from its parasitical dependence on ritual. To an ever greater degree the work of art reproduced becomes the work of art designed for reproducibility. From a photographic negative, for example, one can make any number of prints; to ask for the “authentic” print makes no sense. But the instant the criterion of authenticity ceases to be applicable to artistic production, the total function of art is reversed. Instead of being based on ritual, it begins to be based on another practice – politics."
(Walter Benjamin, The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, 1936 )
OlumpusOM4 (analogical) : the slide; CanonPSG7: digital
“Their town was assaulted by the three sister gorgons - Stheno, Euryale, and Medusa - when her mother was on the verge of giving birth. As the monsters tore through buildings and soldiers, her mother's eyes caught the gaze of Euryale, turning her flesh to stone. The monsters rampage eventually ended and her father ran to the side of his statuesque wife. Cursing the gods and the twisted fate they had brought him, he grabbed a smithing hammer and dagger and struck at his pregnant wife's stone belly.
To his dismay and joy, his daughter was still alive, encased not only in a womb of membrane but also rock. He cradled her as she wailed and squirmed, completely unaware of her miraculous existence. Over the next decade the town rebuilt and she blossomed into an exquisite beauty, fair and soft in every way. It was only on the celebration of her 18th year that the ashen blemishes on her face began to appear.
The diabolism that thickened and hardened her mother's blood was transmitted to her in the womb. It lay dormant there for years before finally infiltrating her circulation. Once inside her, it began to finish the work of the gorgon, only much more slowly. As her face became more of a hardened mask, she wore a white veil of fine linen to hide her malady. Known as the "Bride of the Bedrock", she wandered the many gardens of the kingdom in futile hope to detect their perfume.” -M.D. Walter