View allAll Photos Tagged depression,
Flat-bottomed depression that is periodically covered by water. Playas occur in interior desert basins and adjacent to coasts in arid and semiarid regions. The water that periodically covers the playa slowly filters into the groundwater system or evaporates into the atmosphere, causing the deposition of salt, sand, and mud along the bottom and around the edges of the depression.
Read more: www.answers.com/topic/playa#ixzz1tfpXSHNa
A scene from my drive from California to Chicago.
All rights reserved.
Concern should drive us into action, not into a depression.
Karen Horney
Please comment
Time and I don't get along.
Whenever I need more, there is not enough.
Whenever I don't need much, I have too much.
I wear this little shackle which reminds me who is in control.
One day I will allow myself the luxury of taking it off for good.
Extensive notes to follow (please check back for more info)
Julie's Mom at her family's homestead in 1935 in the hills above Sand Lake, Oregon - In the midst of the Great Depression in 1935. She is the blond in the group of people to the left and is on the extreme right of that group. She is 96 years old today and appears as a 14 year old girl in the pic. Today she has the mind of a 65 year old. She is an amazing attractive, saucy lady with wonderful stories! I just recently found this and scanned this negative . At a recent family gathering, a local historian asked if she could add this photo and Mom's narrative to her archives at the Tillamook County, Oregon museum. I'm working on this project for her.
The first of the Great "Tillamook Burn" fires had only happened two year before, in 1933. Learn more at:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tillamook_Burn
More info as Mom and I talk about her experiences at the homestead.
175/365
The unwelcomed passenger.
Sometimes it really helps that I'm also a painter....say for instance when you have a shell and need to paint a giant slug ;) Later on I'll post on my facebook page to show my painted layers of the snail.
This was my favorite display in the museum.
You could sit and listen to one of 3 of Roosevelt's radio addresses as if you were in your kitchen during his presidency.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt Library & Museum
32nd President of the United States
Hyde Park, NY
The way the tide made the water move around the rocks and vegetation was captivating, but there was a somber quality to this that made me feel slightly depressed. I intentionally underexposed it, but too much so. The moodiness came through, though, and that was what I was going for.
I've had this idea floating around in my head for awhile. It seems fitting that I finished it this week, which marks a year since I was laid off.
This is my problem with unemployment. If I'm not busy enough, I have time to think - and that never ends well.
A series exploring points of crisis across the human lifespan, with particular regard to the middle-classes. The aim of the series being to externalise internal trauma.
I sensed a profound sadness in him. He was totally alone, seemingly waiting there for someone or something. I'll never forget it.
His name was Marzouq. He was nice and solemn. As we talked I certainly felt an emptiness there with him. I'm not sure what it was, but it was like there was something wholly unrealized in his life. While we talked, he looked at me strangely at times, a look of not knowing what to think of me and accepting me at the same time. It was comforting, and he was nice to talk to. He created the distinct impression that he was thinking about my questions before answering.
We were there, totally alone, in an unexpected rear corner of a Moghul monument. I always like to go around the backside and try to see the things that are not obvious.
After sitting to rest and talking a bit, he motioned behind him with a quick glance and raised eyebrows, and said cheerfully, "Want to see the bats?"
I said, "Are you kidding? Let's go."
Marzouq ducked down about ten feet from a smallish door with hard black shadows shooting inside. He began a near crab walk even while approaching the tiny door. I ducked my head too, which felt strange in the open air. Maybe he was afraid of bats streaming out, which I suddenly realized, causing me to duck down a little more than him.
He made little grunting sounds and kept waving his hand to the side for me to follow. After entering the door, a short walk, and a few turns, we ended up in what felt like a chamber. It could have been darker in there, but I don't know how. He grunted in a way like "watch this" and he flipped on a flashlight, shining it up into the half-domed room. There were hundreds of bats hanging there, totally silent. It was eerie as heck. I set up my camera but it was way too dark even with a slow shutter speed... and I didn't feel like light-painting with the flashlight because I thought it might look stupid and not really capture the mood anyway. We sat in there for a while handing the flashlight back and forth and making little grunt sounds. It was very strange, but entirely delightful.
From the blog at www.stuckincustoms.com
Okie's came in '39
Seeking work for just a dime
Now, in Aught-Nine, still seeking work
But, a dime isn't worth the time
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