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Photograph taken at an altitude of Four metres, in the magic of the Golden Hour around sunrise, at 07:13am on Thursday 21st February 2014, off Botany Road and the Viking Coastal Trail on the shoreline of Botany Bay, the Northern most of seven bays in Broadstairs, Kent, England.
The seven bays are (from south to north) Dumpton Gap, Louisa Bay, Viking Bay, Stone Bay, Joss Bay, Kingsgate Bay and Botany Bay.
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Nikon D800 40mm 1/3s f/2.8 iso200 RAW (14 bit) AF-S Single point. Manual exposure. Matrix metering.
Nikkor AF-S 24-70mm f/2.8G ED IF. Jessops 77mm UV filter. Nikon MB-D12 battery grip. Two Nikon EN-EL batteries. My memory 32GB class 10 20MB/s SDHC. Nikon DK-17M Magnifying Eyepiece. Nikon DK-19 soft rubber eyecup. Manfrotto 055XPROB tripod. Manfrotto 327RC2 Grip action ball head. Manfrotto quick release plate 200PL-14. Jessops Tripod bag. Optech Tripod Strap. Sandisc 32GB Ultra Class 10 30MB/s SDHC. Lowepro Transporter camera strap. Lowepro Vertex 200 AW camera bag. Nikon MC-DC2 remote shutter release. Nikon GP-1 GPS unit.
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LATITUDE: N 51d 23m 20.42s
LONGITUDE: E 1d 26m 13.40s
ALTITUDE: 4.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 103.00MB
PROCESSED FILE: 14.80MB
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Processing power:
HP Pavillion Desktop with AMD A10-5700 APU processor. HD graphics. 2TB with 8GB RAM. 64-bit Windows 8.1. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. Nikon VIEWNX2 Version 2.90 64bit. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit
We're participating in Oh My Gacha! with the Crave Me necklaces. Oh My Gacha! runs until July 31st.
• Teleport: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hollow%20Shades/89/121/1160
This San Fernando Valley community in Los Angeles, is where the Sherman Oaks Galleria gave rise to the 80's Valley Girl cultural label. The community also was one of the hardest hit in the '94 Northridge quake. Ventura Blvd, its main thoroughfare, runs some 20 miles from Topanga Canyon Blvd in Woodland Hills, thru Tarzana, Encino, Sherman Oaks, and Studio City to the East. Ventura Blvd originally was part of El Camino Real (old trail between Spanish missions). And it long served as US Route 101 before the freeway. Here is a single mile of Ventura Blvd as it passes through part of Sherman Oaks.
A lady on my cereal message board ( www.cerealbits.com ) was selling a bunch of different cat food boxes from the late 70s-early 80s. Most were pretty boring, but this one grabbed me and I had to buy it. Mainly because I vividly remember this box from when I was young and also I really like the cartoon graphics on it. The other boxes just featured a picture of a cat, and since cats don't change their style - the boxes didn't really scream out "vintage" to me.
After the Syracuse City Ballet team taught some audience members the slide, some celebrating was in order.
The Crave headline the Joiners in Southampton on a mini-tour with Enjoy Destroy and Young Guns 17.05.09
It's a shame when someone forgets how to have fun with no one watching. For every picture you see of me in the wild, I've climbed a dozen trees unseen, hopped a hundred streams out of sight, and slid like a child down some slippery surface in secret. It's all for my benefit alone. I love silence, crave isolation, and get to experience endlessly joyful hours of it. But I choose to not be invisible in a crowd. Some folks think that being a loner is about keeping quiet in company – well, that's sure not my brand of introversion. Quiet people have always made me deeply uncomfortable. It seems beside the point, a waste of opportunity. Ninety percent of my time is already unshared, why should I drag my shell into society with me? Taciturn conversation is fine when talking to myself, swearing at stubbed toes and making mental notes. But if you put me in a room, I won't reject the soul of civilization. Why do we come together if it's not to share stories? Tales from our recent separation. When I was young, I was so shy it hurt. I'd turn every chance to be with people inside-out, and there were those who knew me for years yet barely heard a word from me. I started writing so words would escape, then started speaking so the writing would be heard. Eventually, I learned to speak for myself. I hope you'll do the same. There's still plenty of time to shut up when we're old.
March 13, 2025
Forest Glade, Nova Scotia
Year 18, Day 6332 of my daily journal.
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I crave it
so much that I can taste it
It changes, the taste,
sometimes it is coppery, bitter
like blood,
other times it is succulent, sweet
like fresh strawberries, the juice
dripping down my chin
My senses are fully in tune,
my hearing is exuisitely aware of the the sound of satiny skin brushing
over cool, crisp sheets like the rustle of a taffeta wedding gown
My craving is nearer
bright colors burst all around me
deep reds,
bright golds like Rapunzells hair,
indigo blues,
emerald greens bring forth memories of pure waters I have never seen
A fire burns near
the heat rolls over my skin
sweat beads down the center of my back as
I stretch for what I crave
lavender wafts over me and as I breath in clean air
hints of a mountain clean rain exhilirate my soul
and I still crave, only I am not sure what for