Colour urban abstract reflection image. New Street Station, Birmingham.

If you have forgotten water lilies floating

On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,

If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,

Then you can return and not be afraid.

But if you remember, then turn away forever

To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,

There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,

And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.

--Sara Teasdale, Water Lillies

________________________________

Hair: LeLutka Sheena Hair in Ash / Roots color HUD

Hairbase: [ef] Eskimo Fashion

Skin + Appliers: Jalwa Sameena in Pepper

Eyes: Mayfly

Eyeliner: Lovely Disarray

Lashes: Angel Rock

Lips: Glamorize Nibble Lips in Medium Nude (tinted)

Earrings: Maxi Gossamer Ashira Hoops 3

Bracelets: Chary. Gaia Bangles in Gold

Nails: Beauty by Alaskametro

Hands: Slink Av Enhancement Hands Gesture V2.1

Dress: Apsara Leela Gown in Blue/Purple (@ Fantasy Faire)

Feet: Slink Av Enhancement Feet Flat V2.2

Pose: ZZANG Spring Frivolity (edited)

Location: Caladan

________________________________

( location landmarks/slurls available at my tumblr)

In 2016 and 2017, I went several times to the old, monumental cemetery of Loyasse in Lyon (France) to document the interesting and curious sepultures that are to be found there. Loyasse is the oldest remaining cemetery in Lyon, and is traditionally considered the proper place of eternal rest for the wealthy bourgeois of the city.

Over the coming days, I will upload more photographs taken there during those two years.

For many of those pictures, I used a manual focus lens, a Voigtländer Nokton 58mm f/1.8, made in Japan by Cosina and looking exactly like vintage Nikkor lenses, however with modern optics and optimal performance. I hope you will enjoy those photographs.

Many sepultures in that cemetery are centuries old. Some families have ceased to exist altogether, others I imagine do not care... and that is why all those tombs lie or stand in disarray, decaying away until they become dangerous for their neighbors or for passers-by, and in such a case the cemetery personnel intervene and take down the threatening components.

Atlantic Wall - Utah Beach - Normandy, France.

Utah beach is the codename for the westernmost of the 5 Allied landing zones during D-day. It is the only beach on the Cotentin peninsula and closest to the vital harbour city of Cherbourg. Together with Omaha beach it is the sector where the American forces were disembarked. The amphibious assault, primarily by the US 4th Infantry Division and 70th Tank Battalion, was supported by airborne landings of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Division. These Airborne troops were dropped on the Cotentin penisula.

In stark contrast with Omaha beach where the landing turned into a near disaster with most of the troops pinned down for hours with heavy losses in both men and material the landings at Utah went relatively smooth. This does not mean the GI's came ashore unopposed: some 200 casualties were suffered by the 4th division.

One of the factors that contributed to this success was that the preliminary bombing of the target areas here was accurate and the German forces - in contrast with what happened at Omaha beach - were in disarray at H-hour, 06:30, when the first wave of 20 landing craft approached the beach. The GI's of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Infantry landed on Uncle Red and Tare Green sectors. What they didn't know initially was that pushed to the south by strong currents they landed some 1.8 kilometres south of their designated landing spot!

Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. was the first high ranking officer that landed and , not discouraged by the deviation, he decided to "start the war from right here". He ordered further landings to be re-routed. As it was this was a good decision because the Americans landed on a relative weak spot in the German defenses. Only one "Widerstandsnest" (WN5) opposed them and it was severely affected by the preliminary bombardments. It took the GI's about an hour to clear the defenses. Today the remains of this German widestandsnest can still be seen and are partly incorporated into the Utah beach museum. Well worth a visit.

After the succesful landings the real difficulties started because of the inundated areas behind the beach and the increasing German resistance which lead to weeks of fighting on the Cotentin peninsula.

On the Photo:

Tobruk stand of Widerstandsnest 8 overlooking Utah beach.

Tonemapped using three (handheld) shots made with a Fuji X-T3 and Fujinon 16mm f/1.4 lens, september 2019.

A set of photo's with notes of Utah Beach and the Cotentin peninsula with the Airborne sectors.">

Several weeks ago Stormtrooper Bruce returned to his quarters when his shift was over only to find someone had played an April Fool's prank on him, leaving his quarters in total disarray. Since then he's been biding his time, and plotting his revenge once he learned the identity of his prankster. But he wasn't expecting this.

STB: Hello little dude! Long time no see. Don't you look... cute today.

Pepperoni Pizza: Hello Unka Dude! How are you! I sure missed you. Did you miss me? I'm not cute, I'm in disguise accause I'm running away to join a circus. Only I can't find one, so I came here to see you instead. So how did you like my surprise? Wasn't it awesome? Oh, and today I'm Pepperoni Pizza accause everyone loves pepperoni pizza, except for those vegetableterians.

STB: Whoa! Slow down there. How much coffee have you had today? That was WTMIAO! Way too much information at once. Why are you running away?

PP: Because Momma's making Spider Surprise Stew for dinner. I can't eat that! So I'm running away so I won't hurt her feelings. She said she found a new recipe on the web, and then ordered the ingredients on line. So I put two and two together and then, violin - I knew she was making spider surprise stew.

STB: Um, OK. You asked how I liked your surprise? You're not talking about that nightmare disaster I found in my quarters a few weeks ago are you?

PP: Disaster? It was all so beautiful. Bouquets of roses, presents, pretty umbrellas and even some new pots to cook in. And I left Cujo Kitty to guard it all until you got back.

STB: Well, um. I guess it's the thought that counts, But you should know Cujo trashed the place after you left. It wasn't pretty. I didn't realize it was Cujo so I dropped him off at your Unka Pappy's Petting Zoo.

PP: Oh yes, Unka Pappy was tickled pink about that. Cujo Kitty caught lots of mice and something squiggly he'd never seen before. So now Cujo Kitty has a new home guarding the zoo at night. So, what about your presents? Didn't you just love them? I filled them with pics of Unka Pappy so you'll always have something to remember him where ever you go!

STB: Well, um. I um, that was very thoughtful of you. So I, um, shared them, with all the Troopers on my last mission. Yes, that's what I did.

PP: Oh, that's so sweet! Now everyone will have a memento to keep them company when they go to galaxies far, far away.

STB: Suddenly, somehow, those far away galaxies don't sound so bad.

_________________________________________

Viewing Large is always fun. Just click on the image.

I wish I could manage to capture the true beauty of this collar. There is no way for a still picture to do justice for the way the light dances across the gems.

feat.

Titzuki//Chain Me Pretty:Amethyst @ Romp

GB//Denim shirt:White, Loose Belt pants:Black

Slink//Physique v1.3

Clef de Peau//Phil:T1

White Widow//Southpaw:Black (lower only)

IKON//Hope Eyes:Black

Kokolores//Amber:14

Zibska//Blacktop:09

Lovely Disarray//Devotion eye shadow:Dark Purple

Kooqla//Liquid shadow:01

Nox//Dotwork tattoo:One

Random Matter//Face Contour:Full

Model: Psyche Scribe

It was as if they were making a final sprint, starting at the Rokin, going past Madame Tussauds. Suddenly, there they were, laughing, in the center of Dam Square with their bright red Public Bikes. She was a gorgeous young woman, her hair in complete disarray, with an indescribably beautiful, captivating look in her eye. He had a triumphant grin on his face, as if they had just experienced the greatest sensation of the century.

Sometimes you just know right away.

I walked over to them and almost intuitively asked her if I could take his picture. This way, he simply could not refuse, if he had wanted to. She beamed even more radiantly.

Earlier that evening I nearly fell, slipping on the wilted flowers still covering the ground more than a week after Remembrance Day. The same thing nearly happened to this limber man as he approached the Pylon. A bit later he told me where he was from. The southern island that was literally being flooded with boat refugees, the land of Godfathers who had, until very recently, determined for themselves who was welcome and who was not…

And now, this Amsterdam…

Today, it was impossible not to smile.

From a distance, his wife gave a friendly wave as he caught up with her.

From the ongoing series “Pylon Portraits”:

Strolling through the heart of Amsterdam. Past many strangers. Shoulder to shoulder. Masses. I wonder if they are foreigners, locals, or maybe even people from my own town, or region? People with their own personal life stories, with fascinating social and cultural backgrounds. Are they affected by domestic or even political turmoil? Have they fled from something or someone to get here? Are they catching their breath, for a brief moment experiencing the pleasures of democracy and peace, looking for love and understanding?

I feel the need to speak with some of these strangers and get a taste of their personalities and histories. But what would we gain from a quick exchange of words, or even a couple of brief conversations? There is so much to tell. So much to be said. Where do you start? I have decided to leave the words for what they are. Instead, I ask people if I can take their portrait. I am always looking for striking personalities, people who stand out to me in a remarkable way, making me wonder who they are. Intriguing and perhaps even a bit mystical. This is an ongoing and personal project where I am attempting to capture glimpses of unique character and beauty. The people I portray don’t have to be “pretty” according to Western standards, and I don’t ask them to pose either. Their beauty is in their vitality, their personality, and in the look in their eye. Their age, gender, and origin don’t matter. The strangers I portray receive their picture by email. Even though I often get to know their names and ethnical backgrounds, I don’t feel the need to mention these things. Taiwan or China, Peru or Luxemburg, what does it really matter when it comes to their vitality and spirit? The place I ask them to stand when I take their picture, the step in front of the Pylon of the National Monument on Dam Square, is our porous symbol of resistance, liberation, peace, and new life.

The National Museum of Cambodia in Phnom Penh is Cambodia's largest museum of cultural history and is the country's leading historical and archaeological museum.

The museum houses one of the world's largest collections of Khmer art, including sculptural, ceramics, bronzes, and ethnographic objects. Its collection includes over 14,000 items, from prehistoric times to periods before, during and after the Khmer Empire, which at its height stretched from Thailand, across present-day Cambodia, to southern Vietnam.

The National Museum of Cambodia is located on Street 13 in central Phnom Penh, to the north of the Royal Palace and on the west side of Veal Preah Man square. The visitors' entrance to the compound is at the corner of Streets 13 and 178. The Royal University of Fine Arts is located on the west side of the museum. The museum is under the authority of the Cambodian Ministry of Culture and Fine Arts. The museum buildings, inspired by Khmer temple architecture, were constructed between 1917 and 1924, the museum was officially inaugurated in 1920, and it was renovated in 1968.

George Groslier (1887–1945), historian, curator and author was the motivating force behind much of the revival of interest in traditional Cambodian arts and crafts, and it was he who designed this building that is today ‘traditional Khmer’ architecture. It is perhaps better described as a building enlarged from Cambodian temple prototypes seen on ancient bas-reliefs and reinterpreted through colonial eyes to meet the museum-size requirements.

The foundation stone for the new museum was laid on 15 August 1917. Some two-and-a-half years later, the completed museum was inaugurated during Khmer New Year on 13 April 1920 in the presence of H.M King Sisowath, François-Marius Baudoin, Résident-supérieur, and M. Groslier, director of Cambodian Arts, and Conservator of the museum.

The original design of the building was slightly altered in 1924 with extensions that added wings at either end of the eastern façade that made the building even more imposing.

Control of the National Museum and Arts Administration was ceded by the French to the Cambodians on 9 August 1951 and following Independence in 1953, the then Musée National de Phnom Penh was the subject of bilateral accords. In 1966 Chea Thay Seng was the first Cambodian Director of the Museum and Dean of the newly created Department of Archaeology at the Royal University of Fine Arts. This university that form its foundation as the Ecole des Arts Cambodgiens in 1920 was intimately linked with students, artisans and teachers who worked to preserve Cambodian cultural traditions, can still be found to the rear of the museum.

During Khmer Rouge regime of 1975-79—devastated all aspects of Cambodian life including the cultural realm. The Museum, along with the rest of Phnom Penh, was evacuated and abandoned. The Museum, closed between 1975 and 1979, and was found in disrepair, its roof rotten and home to a vast colony of bats, the garden overgrown, and the collection in disarray, many objects damaged or stolen. The Museum was quickly tidied up and reopened to the public on April 13, 1979. However, many of the Museum's employees had lost their lives during the Khmer Rouge regime.

thespouge.wordpress.com/2015/05/19/yeah-im-gonna-show-you/

Summon the Swarm

"Summon the Swarm and prepare to move to Korhal" The Queen of Blades ordered.

"The Swarm is in disarray and will not answer your call." Izsha replied.

This is a personal remake of the scene in StarCraft 2 when Sarah Kerrigan comes back to the Leviathan to claim her ownership of the Swarm and speaks with Izsha, the Zerg who were made to store all ideas and memories of the Queen.

Models:

The Queen of Blades: myself

Izsha: Zephyra Gilgandra

thespouge.wordpress.com/2015/02/05/busted/

Compagnie ACIDU

NAGEUSES SUR BITUME

Cinq femmes en quête de synchronisation

Cinq nageuses synchronisées. Cinq femmes. « Interdites de piscine », elles se retrouvent à la rue et dans la rue, pour manifester leur désarroi, leur colère et leur désir ; sans piscine et sans eau, elles continuent d’avancer, de vivre… Nage ou crève ! Elles s’adaptent, s’inventent un monde afin de nager sur le bitume, dans une piscine remplie d’air, la rue ; aux côtés d’autres nageurs en eaux troubles, les spectateurs.

Company ACIDU

SWIMMERS ON BITUMEN

Five women in search of synchronization

Five synchronized swimmers. Five women. "Forbidden swimming pool", they find themselves in the street and in the street, to show their disarray, their anger and their desire; Without swimming pool and without water, they continue to advance, to live ... Swim or die! They adapt, invent a world in order to swim on the bitumen, in a pool filled with air, the street; Alongside other swimmers in troubled waters, the spectators.

Acidu Unternehmen

Schwimmer auf ASPHALT

Fünf Frauen auf der Suche für die Synchronisation

Fünf Synchronschwimmer . Fünf Frauen. „Forbidden Pool“, finden sie sich auf der Straße und auf der Straße ihre Bestürzung, Wut und den Wunsch zu zeigen; kein Pool und kein Wasser, sie weiterhin nach vorne zu bewegen, zu leben oder sterben ... Swim! Sie passen, erfinden eine Welt auf dem Asphalt schwimmen in einem Pool mit Luft gefüllt ist, die Straße; neben anderen Schwimmern in trüben Gewässern, Zuschauer.

11:15 am

Gotham park

Edward Nigma (The Riddler)

After i blow up half the city there was a sense of achievement I had for my good deed, you may ask "what good deed?!" well that's not for you, you snivelling little bitch to decide! you see it's for the grater good! you may ask how. but you see it's for my grater good, not your's or any one els... i don't care what happens to the rest of the world. all i want is to get my way, is that not to much to ask?... any way my plan is in full swing at the moment. The batman is probably incapable of walking and his so called "Bat Family" in disarray... thats why i have come back to gotham park.. part of gotham which got completely destroyed in the explosion. i came hearer so i could walk through my success..

______________________________________________________________________

Finally got round to making the next part if my "The Terror of the riddler" series hope you enjoy!

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part Five

_________________________________________________________________________

My Youtube : www.youtube.com/channel/UCBMLZI6rZzkn8gWc_LKWL_w/videos

My Facebook : www.facebook.com/pages/L-FIG-BRO/392117004267340?ref=hl

Trafalgar square where a street artist & happy sightseers set the right tone to give a timely lesson to politicians & a country in disarray.

I hope the artist puts his name in the hat for leader of the Conservatives :0)

Explore. February 13, 2009.

I move

from subject to subject

from night to day

colorific

monochromatic

specific

or disarray.

will shoot.

(Behind-the-scene: Last night I took my ladies (my wife and daughter. :P) to a date. We ventured to experience a newly opened churrasco in town. While waiting to be seated we hung out at the lounge, sipping Evian and flavoured tea. And what does a Flickrite do in his idle time? Eh, chat with the wife! And start pressing the shutter! :P So, I was happily clicking away when this guy stops and asks me, in an almost demanding tone, "What is that?!". "A D700.", I replied. And he goes to ask if he can check it out. 'Turns out he is a Pro and has been considering getting one for himself. After a couple of shots ~ his indecision came to an end. :P We start discussing lenses. I told him what I use. And he tells me, "I think, for a hobbyist, it's an overkill to have all those lenses.". I looked him in the eye and smiled, and he knew that was his cue to leave. :P Ahh, the Brazilian steaks were best!!!)

© All Rights Reserved.

Interestingness: #120.

Ey Guys!

This is my build for Phase One of Mision 3, ¨Return to Coruscant¨.

Rojo and DJ are bringing in supplies to the poor citizens before they get ready to carry out the next two phases of Ryder Squadrons assignment.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Planet: Coruscant

Location: Lower Levels

//Log Entry\\

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The riots had been, well… to say the least, very “destructive”

Yes, they had gotten the attention they desired but the aftermath has been brutal. Some of our own forces intervened in support of the outbreaks and now that they are over, have the desire to return in order to lend a helping hand.

We were not aboard the first rounds of mingling when the riots were rampaging the city streets as we were a little busy taking care of matters on Corelia (The whole base invasion incident, don't worry we held our ground but some light repairs are still in order.)

Anyways, with that said, this is going to be the first instance Ryder Squadron is on the streets of Coruscant as both a team and as members of The Survivors. Our first objective is to deliver supplies to the poor and needy left hungry from the displays of outrage. Second, we will relocate down a few levels and repair some vandalized buildings that have been left in disarray. Lastly, we will head to the lowest level, 01, and “Clean out the Underworld”. For this objective, we have brought both our mops as well as our munitions depending on what the situation may call on. We will be armed with our brooms and our bravery as the underworld is as filthy physically, as it is crime-wise.

May the force be with us in our undertakings as we proceed for the cause.

Long burn the flame of the Survivors and may our embers be sources of light for those without warmth.

-Rojo, Ryder Squadron

P.S: (Please advise, this is a highly pressing matter)

Do you think the refugees would prefer pizza or pie in the supplies we bring in? Or both? I believe the pair are considered essentials in these trying times.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So what did you guys think? Hope you enjoyed it!

-God Bless

Carculio

La casa de papel Soundtrack | Cecilia Krull - My life is going on (Lyric Video)

youtu.be/ehZFyxRbyd0

We have never spoken

Not with words just joking

Until the moment has passed

For the humor never lasts

~Looking out for the kill

by Alex Hoffman

Explored July 30, 2009 - #43 - Thanks Everyone !

thespouge.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/catch-me-if-you-can/

Life is simple here, no TV, no cars, no electronics. We once kept track of time, but as you see, the clocks have stopped working, now laying by the wayside. We are too busy enjoying the sunshine to clean things up .... Always prefer spending some time dancing to an Indy tune, or laying in the sun drenched field of flowers. I think the little bit of disarray adds to the rustic charm... don't you think so too? .... KaloKairi.

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Prema/106/69/23

A strong low pressure system setup over the weekend in eastern Canada. Don't really understand the dynamics, but the result was an enormous wind field stretching out for hundreds of miles. By Sunday morning the village was being battered with gusts over 60 mph. I grabbed the camera and headed out on foot. My hope was to capture some photos but the journey was more about experiencing the storm first-hand. There was no snow or rain, just wind, and lots of it. Gusts at times that felt strong enough to knock me down, and sustained winds that created an unholy roar as they passed through a nearby treeline. Power lines swayed and bounced to the extent that I kept well clear of them. Trees swayed back and forth at angles that I was sure would have broken them in half. Amazing flexibility in trees (although I later discovered many had fallen or been completely uprooted). At times I found myself breathless as the wind seemed to force the air back into my lungs and wouldn't allow me to exhale. Walking through the cemetery resulted in a sensory overload with hundreds of graveside decorations rattling and waving back and forth, all competing for my attention. Many times my mind interpreted this motion as people walking about in the distance. I would stop and stare in that direction, absolutely certain that someone was lurking there, but each time found that I was totally alone. This was distracting and frankly unsettling, and continued as long as I remained. I really wanted to capture a visual sense for the day. I settled down beneath an evergreen tree (from which large branches had already fallen) and awaited an intense wind gust. It was not a long wait. I shot blindly in continuous shutter mode as the wind whipped up. This image really captures how it felt to be standing there at that moment. I eventually returned to the safety of my home, but the wind continued to whip all afternoon and through the night. I kept thinking back on the cemetery visit as I lay in bed that night, the wind howling outside my windows.

Compagnie ACIDU

NAGEUSES SUR BITUME

Cinq femmes en quête de synchronisation

Cinq nageuses synchronisées. Cinq femmes. « Interdites de piscine », elles se retrouvent à la rue et dans la rue, pour manifester leur désarroi, leur colère et leur désir ; sans piscine et sans eau, elles continuent d’avancer, de vivre… Nage ou crève ! Elles s’adaptent, s’inventent un monde afin de nager sur le bitume, dans une piscine remplie d’air, la rue ; aux côtés d’autres nageurs en eaux troubles, les spectateurs.

Company ACIDU

SWIMMERS ON BITUMEN

Five women in search of synchronization

Five synchronized swimmers. Five women. "Forbidden swimming pool", they find themselves in the street and in the street, to show their disarray, their anger and their desire; Without swimming pool and without water, they continue to advance, to live ... Swim or die! They adapt, invent a world in order to swim on the bitumen, in a pool filled with air, the street; Alongside other swimmers in troubled waters, the spectators.

Acidu Unternehmen

Schwimmer auf ASPHALT

Fünf Frauen auf der Suche für die Synchronisation

Fünf Synchronschwimmer . Fünf Frauen. „Forbidden Pool“, finden sie sich auf der Straße und auf der Straße ihre Bestürzung, Wut und den Wunsch zu zeigen; kein Pool und kein Wasser, sie weiterhin nach vorne zu bewegen, zu leben oder sterben ... Swim! Sie passen, erfinden eine Welt auf dem Asphalt schwimmen in einem Pool mit Luft gefüllt ist, die Straße; neben anderen Schwimmern in trüben Gewässern, Zuschauer.

It's a nightmare of boxes and strange things strewn about the floor. But look at that light coming in through the laundry room window. Soon, this will be our kitchen.

momosl.blogspot.jp/2014/11/princess.html

Kawaii project!! Nov 15~

Violent Seduction - Chou

Lovely Disarray - Iilumi Eye Shadows & Blush Set

Those are the things that makes a woman complete! Aren't I in a disarray...... but that's okay! At least I have a little smile on my face! Last thing is, where's my Date.... it's getting Late!!!!

Thank you MUCHLY for Everything! :-)

Stay Safe and Well and Have Great Week!

Big Hugs, Sherilyn xxoo

NOTICE: This photo is copyrighted 2021 by Sherilyn Sands with all rights reserved. No downloading, screen capture or distribution of this photo without my permission. Thanks!

Sunny workshop, earlier lastsummer. Shithole town, beautiful sunrise.

This was taken at the corner of Amsterdam and 102nd Street, in front of the Ranch Deli. I didn't pay any attention when I first walked past it, because I was concentrating on the photo that you see here .... but I walked down the same street last night, on my way to dinner at the same sushi restaurant a few blocks further south ... and noticed (a) that I had previously recorded the wrong street crossing, which probably disrupted civilization and threw the Greek government into a state of total disarray, and (b) I had neglected to indicate the full name of the restaurant/deli located on this street corner. And now, as you can see from the photo above, you've even got their phone number ...

I'm going to characterize these two as a "couple," even though there may be more enthusiasm on the part of the young woman than there is on the part of her companion. But who can tell ...

*********************************

This is the continuation of a photo-project that I began in the summer of 2008 (which you can see in this Flickr set), and continued throughout 2009-2014 (as shown in this Flickr set, this Flickr set, this Flickr set, this Flickr set, this Flickr set)), this Flickr set)), and this Flickr set)): a random collection of "interesting" people in a broad stretch of the Upper West Side of Manhattan -- between 72nd Street and 104th Street, especially along Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue. These are the people in my neighborhood, aka "peeps in the 'hood."

As I indicated when I first started this project six years ago, I don't like to intrude on people's privacy, so I normally use a zoom telephoto lens in order to photograph them while they're still 50-100 feet away from me; but that means I have to continue focusing my attention on the people and activities half a block away, rather than on what's right in front of me. Sometimes I find an empty bench on a busy street corner, and just sit quietly for an hour, watching people hustling past on the other side of the street; they're almost always so busy listening to their iPod, or talking on their cellphone, or daydreaming about something, that they never look up and see me aiming my camera in their direction.

I've also learned that, in many cases, the opportunities for an interesting picture are very fleeting -- literally a matter of a couple of seconds, before the person(s) in question move on, turn away, or stop doing whatever was interesting. So I've learned to keep my camera switched on, and not worry so much about zooming in for a perfectly-framed picture ... after all, once the digital image is uploaded to my computer, it's pretty trivial to crop out the parts unrelated to the main subject. Indeed, some of my most interesting photos have been so-called "hip shots," where I don't even bother to raise the camera up to my eye; I just keep the zoom lens set to the maximum wide-angle aperture, point in the general direction of the subject, and take several shots. As long as I can keep the shutter speed fairly high (which sometimes requires a fairly high ISO setting), I can usually get some fairly crisp shots -- even if the subject is walking in one direction, and I'm walking in the other direction, while I'm snapping the photos.

With only a few exceptions, I've generally avoided photographing bums, drunks, crazies, and homeless people. There are plenty of them around, and they would certainly create some dramatic pictures; but they generally don't want to be photographed, and I don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of them. There have been a few opportunities to take some "sympathetic" pictures of such people, which might inspire others to reach out and help them. This is one example, and here is another example.

The other thing I've noticed, while carrying on this project for the past six years, is that while there are lots of interesting people to photograph, there are far, far, far more people who are not so interesting. They're probably fine people, and they might even be more interesting than the ones I've photographed ... unfortunately, there was just nothing memorable about them. They're all part of this big, crowded city; but for better or worse, there are an awful lot that you won't see in these Flickr sets of mine...

“He’s focused on something—or someone—over her shoulder.

The harmonious warbling of the rainforest morphs into organized disarray, as if a primitive maestro has thrown conducting to the wind and let Mother Nature take over. Birds trill a warning as the breeze rustles the plant life. Wings flutter overhead. A crescendo of stridulation changes tempo, the insects seemingly performing a sonata as the rhythm shifts yet again.

“What—who is it?” Summer asks in a strained whisper.

His gaze lands on her, his brows furrowing. “The Forsaken.”

― Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls

There's a story behind every leaf. There's an explanation for why it grows where it grows when it grows. It's just a really complicated explanation with a million factors, like the openings in the surrounding canopy that allow light to sneak in, the age of the surrounding trees, the nutrients in the soil, the surrounding fauna, the weather, etc. Somehow it all adds up and makes a leaf on a tree. Maybe my worldview is influenced too much by my math classes from school, but I am confident that if you take into account all the variables, there is some complicated formula that we can generate that will spit out the tree in front of me. My little human brain just can't do the math on its own, so it feels mysterious.

This type of mystery presents opportunities for discovery in nature. I love making these small discoveries with my camera. I am drawn to photos that display this mystery and hint at the loosely ordered chaos that suggests that underneath all of the disarray there is some semblance of structure. Not a neat and tidy structure, but something. With this image here, I was captivated by the chaotic mess of colorful beech leaves. They remind me of the photos I have seen of synchronous fireflies down in the Smokies. I tried to "tame" the madness of nature by framing the mess of yellow leaves with a tidy group of vertical tree trunks.

quicky. thanks for the bomb LIl' lol <3

thespouge.wordpress.com/2015/09/30/losers/

issuu.com/fashiontellersl/docs/fth-dreamsmaycome_final

Models: VeronicaLynn Parx & Sabbian Paine

Photographers: Pierre Webb

Pose: SPONSOR KATINK by AnneMarit Jarvinen.

Style:

VeronicaLynn- Headpiece: AZOURY - Ishtar

Accessories: 7mad;Ravens- The Bug Man Arms

Eyes: Negaposi creepy eyes - RAVEN B (edited)

Skin: Fallen Gods- DRACO Moonlight

Make-up: Madrid Solo- March 2014 Group Gift Unisex- Born Again

7mad;Ravens- Black Wash Tattoo-Face

Sabbian- Mask: SPONSOR Clavv.

Accessories: 7mad;Ravens- The Bug Man Arms

Eyes: Negaposi creepy eyes - RAVEN B

Skin: Nivaro - Baptiste Fantasy Skin - Grey Tribal

Make- Up: Lovely Disarray- I'm no Priest: Face Paint

+Nuuna+ Zion tattoo/ +Nuuna+ Zion eyeliner tattoo/ +Nuuna+ Meta Black

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Sitting waiting for hummingbirds, who never came, I occupied my mind with the zinnias and other flowers in our little garden. I liked the disarray of lines and shadows and lack of focus I noticed in front of me.

Adjectives 101 group, dissonant

PierceSoracco.com

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Day 3, Year 2

behind the jetty

The Flaneur With A Camera borrowed the title from Neil Young's "Too Far Gone." He made the photograph with the same Nikon F2 Photomic and 85mm Nikkor combo that he's had since high school and some Kodak Double X cinema film. This partially demolished building and couch are now gone. Even solitary artmaking is a collaboration.

Only 200 meters northwest of the very popular (and my personal favorite) Bayon temple, is the Baphoun temple. At one time it was the tallest monument in Angkor, but fell into disarray for centuries.

In the 1960s restorations efforts commenced by taking apart 300,000 sandstone blocks and putting them back together. It has been called the “world’s largest jigsaw puzzle.” The project was interrupted for over two decades as a result of the Cambodian civil war and restarted in the mid-1990s. It was finally completed in 2011 and just in time for my visit in 2012.

Happy Travels!

One more photo in the comment section.

All Rights Reserved. Photos and Text ©Sam Antonio Photography 2012

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The Nottingham sign on University Park Campus (University of Nottingham) had a well-needed restoration after it deteriorated rapidly to the point of disarray.

Many students were disappointed with its previous condition, with one ‘Nottsfessional’ member stating “half the front is falling off and I want a decent picture in front of it before I graduate”.

One final year student said, “I ripped a bit of the ‘G’ off the old sign as it was already broken so I have a bit of the sign with me forever, even after I leave Nottingham”.

In previous years, it has been tradition for graduates to take smiling photographs in front of the sign to commemorate their time at the university. Others suggested that the once beautiful sign was now an ‘eyesore’.

The sign is infamous to all Nottingham students, it has been the centrepiece of many social media posts, and when you first visit the university, it is a cheerful welcome.

It has not always remained in perfect condition, however. In 2016, the seven foot ‘I’ was stolen, which made for some entertaining pictures where students pretended to be the missing letter.

--

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Unordnung/Trouble

Pennhurst Asylum was built in 1908 as a state school for the mentally and physically disabled. The Spring City, Chester County, Pennsylvania property covered 120 acres with many different buildings, many connected through a series of underground tunnels. The original name was "Pennhurst Home for the Feeble Minded and Epileptic" before it became known as the "Pennhurst State School". A 1968 report by NBC television entitled "Suffer The Little Children" brought forth evidence of abuse, neglect, and overcrowding at the institution. After many lawsuits, including the landmark May 1974 case "Halderman v. Pennhurst State School ", Pennhurst was finally forced to close its doors in 1986. Pennhurst fell into complete disarray and ruin with scrappers looting buildings for what they could sell and vandals spray painting just about every surface they could find.

There have been attempts to stabilize some of the buildings, primarily the roofs, to keep the buildings in a state of "arrested decay" so they don't become more ruined by the elements, and several of the more dangerous buildings have been demolished. There is a movement to build a museum that features the history of not only Pennhurst but also mental care in the United States, so that we never return to that state of affairs again. The property owners now offer a haunted house during the Halloween season, Paranormal tours, and Photography tours. Tour money goes towards the stabilization of the buildings and the formation of the museum.

Nikon ZF with Nikkor Z 14-30mm F4.5 lens @ 14mm. F4.5, ISO 100. Oben tripod with an Arca-Swiss C1 cube 3-way geared head.

Once functional. Lost usefulness. Neglected. Time passes by. Gains maritime beauty in the artful eye.

Armed with secret intelligence warning of an impending sneak attack by Klingon military forces, the USS Abaddon leaves her hidden asteroid base circling Rigel to lead a Federation fleet in defense of Sherman's Planet. As the Klingons launch their assault the Abaddon decloaks and opens fire with heavy phasers on two L-24 battleships. They are quickly turned to slag. Outmatched by the dreadnought's superior armor and firepower the Klingon formation falls into disarray. By the end of the engagement the Abaddon has destroyed or severely damaged twenty Klingon warships, almost single handedly winning the battle. It would be many months before any Klingon ships dared cross the border into the disputed territories near Rigel. Sherman's Planet was saved.

This scene features my 1/1000 scale USS Abaddon dreadnought, 1/650 scale Klingon D-7 battlecruiser, and 1/350 scale USS Enterprise heavy cruiser plastic models.

Compagnie ACIDU

NAGEUSES SUR BITUME

Cinq femmes en quête de synchronisation

Cinq nageuses synchronisées. Cinq femmes. « Interdites de piscine », elles se retrouvent à la rue et dans la rue, pour manifester leur désarroi, leur colère et leur désir ; sans piscine et sans eau, elles continuent d’avancer, de vivre… Nage ou crève ! Elles s’adaptent, s’inventent un monde afin de nager sur le bitume, dans une piscine remplie d’air, la rue ; aux côtés d’autres nageurs en eaux troubles, les spectateurs.

Company ACIDU

SWIMMERS ON BITUMEN

Five women in search of synchronization

Five synchronized swimmers. Five women. "Forbidden swimming pool", they find themselves in the street and in the street, to show their disarray, their anger and their desire; Without swimming pool and without water, they continue to advance, to live ... Swim or die! They adapt, invent a world in order to swim on the bitumen, in a pool filled with air, the street; Alongside other swimmers in troubled waters, the spectators.

Acidu Unternehmen

Schwimmer auf ASPHALT

Fünf Frauen auf der Suche für die Synchronisation

Fünf Synchronschwimmer . Fünf Frauen. „Forbidden Pool“, finden sie sich auf der Straße und auf der Straße ihre Bestürzung, Wut und den Wunsch zu zeigen; kein Pool und kein Wasser, sie weiterhin nach vorne zu bewegen, zu leben oder sterben ... Swim! Sie passen, erfinden eine Welt auf dem Asphalt schwimmen in einem Pool mit Luft gefüllt ist, die Straße; neben anderen Schwimmern in trüben Gewässern, Zuschauer.

Stepping up and away and round and down till the day goes away and no sound is found but the undying hush of words in disarray.

**Trigger Warning** This chapter includes mildly gruesome details involving an accident and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).

After making sure Vincent was really asleep and as comfortable as possible, Aiden gently stood from the bed and tried to decide the best course of action. He knew he should just head back to the port but he found himself concerned for Vincent's sake. He stood there, staring at the sleeping figure of the captain as he warred with himself to make a decision. Finally, he decided it was best if he stayed. So finding the chaise on the opposite wall near the foot of the bed, Aiden curled up and got as comfortable as he could. To be honest, he was pretty tired from this evening's events. However, as Vincent slept nearby, Aiden found he couldn't sleep as his thoughts were consumed by Vincent and all the mystery around him.

The next morning, there was the sound of a quiet bump and slight movement of something quietly scraping across the floor. Aiden could feel himself starting to wake up but he didn't want to. He felt so comfortable! He shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of the sun upon his head and shoulders and it felt so nice. However, upon hearing a door quietly close, his eyes finally opened and he felt a little disorientated. It was really bright and he struggled to focus around him.

As Aiden shifted, he groaned softly to himself as his neck tensed from sleeping as he had on the chaise. Blinking, he looked around the room and his eyes began to adjust to the light which was when last night started to come back to him. He felt nervous. What did Vincent think of him staying here without permission? This could even cost him his job!

Aiden moved from the reclined position and began to sit up, swinging his feet down to the floorboards. He slid his hand up along the back of his neck, massaging with a yawn as he began to wake up more. As he did, he heard the sound of a door opening to his left. He glanced over and was surprised by what he saw, his eyes widening.

Vincent was standing there looking as shocked as he was, still dressed in his leather pants and black blouse with his hair in slight disarray and standing as if he was in pain. But what shocked Aiden was seeing both of Vincent's eyes open and uncovered for the first time. Aiden had seen the scar last night, but now he was seeing what lay underneath.

Whereas Vincent's left eye was a unique shade of blue that Aiden loved and reminded him of the sea, his right eye was oddly discolored an off-white and lightly veiny, the iris drained of color, and where his pupil would be looked to be a red mark which lined up with the scar on his brow and cheek as he stared straight ahead at Aiden.

Vincent, seeing the look of shock upon Aiden's face, licked his lips and quickly averted his gaze before he saw that disgust he was so accustomed to seeing. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing it in Aiden's eyes right now. He quickly walked to his luggage and hastily grabbed out a fresh pair of pants before ducking back into the restroom before Aiden could say or do anything.

Taken aback by how quickly all that just happened, Aiden stared at the closed door. Okay, that was unexpected. He wasn't sure what to think. It was not a pretty sight to see, certainly, but in truth Aiden didn't find himself put off by it. He'd just been surprised. But...what had happened?

Behind the closed door, Vincent began to strip down out of his clothes, silently cursing and scolding himself for making the mistake of not bringing the eyepatch with him. He hated the looks. He hated the disgust. Above all, he hated the pity. Once he'd changed out of his clothes, he set them aside and began to pull up the fresh pair of pants. That was much more comfortable. Sighing to himself, he unbraided his hair and ran his fingers through it and stared at himself in the small mirror, steeling himself so he could get through whatever was about to happen.

When Vincent emerged once again, he saw Aiden still seated on the chaise. Still not looking directly at Aiden, feeling afraid of what he'd see in his gorgeous eyes, he looked off to the side and began to approach. Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, he brought his hand up and began to toy with his hair and gave a soft clearing of his throat.

"I wanted to say thank you for...for your assistance last night in helping me find my way home. I am fine now."

Aiden had watched as Vincent approached. He'd expected Vincent to be stoic and professional about the whole thing but instead Vincent appeared so vulnerable. His body posture spoke volumes to the younger man.

Honestly, Aiden was bursting with questions! As he gazed at Vincent's face, he replied, "I couldn't have just left you there like that. I didn't mean to impose, but I was concerned and wanted to make sure you were alright this morning." Vincent rotated his head on his neck, willing the tension to release a bit more as he continued to avoid looking at Aiden. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine, thank you, Aiden. There's no need to be concerned."

Vincent turned away from Aiden and began to head towards the kitchen area of his flat. "Would you like some coffee before you go?" he asked, wishing Aiden would decline and leave and pretend like this whole thing hadn't happened.

Aiden bit his lower lip, then decided it was now or never. "Would you tell me what happened?" he asked in a gentle pleading tone. He watched Vincent's shoulders hunch slightly and noticed his head gazing down as he hugged himself. He could tell Vincent was warring with himself, which is exactly what was happening.

Vincent liked Aiden despite his initial uncertainty about the guy, but he didn't want to tell him more than he needed to know. He didn't like people getting close. Sure, he trusted Damien but Damien had been there for years and walked this journey with Vincent whereas he only knew Aiden for just a month. But somehow, he could feel his wall breaking down just a touch more. "What is there to say, Aiden? It was just an accident. It's not a pleasant story; kind of gruesome. You don't really want to hear it. Please trust me."

"But it will help me understand you better," Aiden replied, turning more on the chaise as he gazed at the back of Vincent's head. "I really do want to know. Please, Vincent?"

The moment his name left Aiden's lips, Vincent felt an odd warmth spread through his chest as his eyes closed. In the midst of his depressing, painful memories, the sound of the younger man's voice speaking his name to him seemed to ease the tension somehow. Slowly, he lowered his arms and turned to look at Aiden; finally looking right at him. He could see that concern and sincerity in those gorgeous eyes. There was no pity or disgust there. He saw Aiden's lips curve into a soft, encouraging smile where one of his dimples started peeking just a tiny bit.

"Has...has Damien told you anything?"

"Nothing, I swear."

Vincent looked away from Aiden and walked towards the window, folding his arms over his bare chest as he gazed out the window and beside the chaise. For a moment, he looked like he may not speak after all. Yet he gave a soft sigh and began to explain, choosing what to say with care.

"It was a little over three years ago," he began. "Leon's Claw was in port a few towns away from here and we were getting ready to depart." Vincent moved away from the window and began to slowly pace as he continued, hands coming up and running through his hair. "It was like any other day loading up cargo. I was standing on deck going over the ledger and doing the final count when it happened." Vincent took a deep breath then let it out as he let himself just...talk. "We were transporting a load of gunpowder and the box must have had some residue because there was an explosion. It was...a freak accident. We figured that one of the embers must have escaped the boilers and caught one of the crates as it was being lowered into the ship."

Aiden's eyes widened at the information before grimacing. "Oh no," he murmured. Vincent nodded, still pacing slowly as he forced himself to keep talking. "When the crates exploded, some of the thin metal shrapnel lodged itself into my eye." Vincent's hand came up to cover his right eye, the memory of the excruciating pain of the burning metal piercing his skull coming back. "I don't remember a whole lot, but I vaguely remember hearing Damien screaming my name and this... white hot, blinding pain radiating from my face." Vincent swallowed hard, pausing before the fireplace and placing his hands on the mantle. "I was told afterwards that I'd fallen to the ground right in the path of the falling mast. The explosion has broken it in half. He'd rushed to push me out of the way just in time but it landed on him instead; specifically his left upper arm."

Behind him, Aiden stared at his back with wide eyes and felt horror as he listened to the terrorizing story. "So that’s why Damien has a mechanical arm?" he inquired. Vincent's fingers clenched the mantle as he nodded, staring down at the empty fireplace. Biting his lower lip, he inhaled deeply through his nose below slowly letting it out before replying regretfully, "There was no saving it. He saved my life but lost his arm in the process. So I had it replaced for him."

Aiden licked his lips and brought his forearms to his knees as he leaned forward slightly, staring down at the floorboards as he processed everything. Damien was a prideful man who loved to boast; especially about himself. He sure knew how to tell a story, too! He'd saved Vincent's life and received a beautiful and powerful mechanical arm, a gift from his best friend. Aiden knew Damien was quite proud of it. He figured Damien would see it as proof of his heroism yet had never even mentioned it.

"I didn't realize- I'm sorry for my ignorance," he began before Vincent shook his head and cut him off. "Don't be," he responded quietly. "We agreed not to speak of it unless necessary for my sake. He knows I don't want or like the attention."

"I understa-"

"No, you don't!"

The cutting response was sharp and so unexpected it made Aiden jump! Vincent was hunched over the fireplace slightly, fingers curled and his fingernails scraping against the mantel. His body was tense as he clenched his teeth and inhaled deeply through his nose. "You don't know what it's like, Aiden! No one does and they NEVER will!" As his voice raised, he turned and began storming his way past Aiden, blindly pacing as he unleashed his pent up frustrations.

"Men never look me in the eyes anymore! Women whisper behind their fans and avoid my gaze at formal events and hope I won't look their way! I'm a fucking MONSTER! Even mothers on the street clutch their childr-" He cut himself off abruptly as he stood there facing Aiden, lips pressed together as his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. Aiden watched as Vincent's eyes flicked to the picture frame he'd kept beside his bed. A moment later in silence, Vincent turned and sat down on the edge of his bed facing away from Aiden, hunching forward with his forearms pressed to his knees. A moment later, his shoulders began to tremble as he pressed his face into his hands.

Aiden sat there for a long moment, eyes wide as he stared at Vincent from where he sat. He was stunned! It took him a moment to realize that Vincent was crying. Vincent looked so defeated as he sat there with his shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed. Aiden felt so lost as to what to say or do to this poor man who was so traumatized by his past. There had to be more to this than just the accident.

"Vincent, I'm so sorry. You're right, I don't know what it is like. But you are NOT a monster."

"Yes I am!"

"No, you're not. You are a good man."

"A good man would have been here in time! Fucking Hell! A good man would have not even left them in the first place! HOW AM I A GOOD MAN?!"

As Vincent broke into silent sobs once again, Aiden's gaze wandered towards the small picture frame of Vincent and the pregnant woman. An ominous feeling washed over him as he remembered hearing how bad the plague had hit the capital three years ago which was around the time of Vincent's accident. Was it possible that an injured, stranded Vincent couldn't get home to his wife and child in time?

Vincent was so sure that Aiden was going to think he was absolutely pathetic! If he hadn't lost the respect of his engineer before, he sure as bloody Hell did now! He tried to stop crying but he found now that he'd begun that he couldn't stop! Vincent felt the bed shift on his left, feeling embarrassed as he realized Aiden was sitting beside him on the bed.

It was about a minute later and Vincent's tears began to slow. He gave a sniff and wiped at his nose, feeling utterly embarrassed. He was about to apologize when he heard Aiden's soft voice pipe up beside him, "You know, I think you look quite dashing even without the eyepatch."

Vincent blinked in surprise, his teary eyes turning to look at Aiden. What was THAT supposed to mean?! "Y-you think I look dashing?" Vincent's cheeks blossomed in a rosy color as he glanced away in embarrassment. "I'm not dashing!" he exclaimed. "I'm not like...like...Damien! Damien is dashing. Me? Nuh uh!"

"Damien? Are you serious? He's like a damn peacock! 'Oh look at me! I'm so pretty! Worship me and my dashing good looks!'"

Vincent stared with wide eyes, lips parted in surprise as he witnessed Aiden imitating Damien with quite the accuracy; even going as far as to imitate his cocky smirk! And very suddenly and without warning, Vincent doubled over with laughter! Five seconds later, he caught himself and immediately stopped. He covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide in surprise as he stared at Aiden with an embarrassed blush coloring his cheeks! Aiden suddenly beamed, his dimples on full display as he placed his hand on Vincent's shoulder and said, "So you DO know how to laugh after all!" He chuckled and smirked slightly. "Don't worry, Captain, I won't tell anyone."

Vincent blinked and then started to laugh again, lowering his hands as he wrapped them around his own abdomen. "Oh God, Aiden! The Hell am I gonna do with you?!" he asked even as he chuckled and wiped away the tears from his eyes. Aiden simply gave a small smile and lowered his hands to his lap. "Let's start with that coffee. No pressure to talk. Only when you're ready, IF you're ready. Okay?"

Vincent gazed at him, surprise and uncertainty filling him at once. No pressure? No need to talk? Just coffee? Really? A slight smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's lips and he gave a small nod. "Okay."

For a long moment, the men sat side by side and gazed into each other's eyes. Vincent had been so afraid that he'd see disgust in Aiden's gorgeous blue eyes. Instead, he saw only acceptance. Vincent smiled a little more and then stood from the bed, wiping his eyes free of tears. Somehow, Aiden made it better just by being here. How did that kid manage to break his wall down like that?! There was just something about Aiden...

Aiden allowed his gaze to follow Vincent's retreating figure. As it did, his eyes wandered a bit and took in the sight of how his rear was hugged just the right way by his pants. Not wanting to be caught dead staring at THAT, his gaze shifted quickly and settled on Vincent's elaborate and beautiful Celtic-style raven tattoo. He found he admired how it curved around his slender body. Catching how Vincent's tattoo dipped down below his belt line of his pants, a small little smirk grew on Aiden's lips. As he bit his lower lip, he couldn't help but wonder...how far down DID that tattoo go?

Next Part:

www.flickr.com/photos/153660805@N05/51040325757/in/datepo...

To read the rest of the story, here's the album link: www.flickr.com/photos/153660805@N05/albums/72157717075565127

***Please note this is a BOY LOVE (BL/yaoi/gay) series. It is a slow burn and rated PG13!***

***

**Special thank you to Vin Raven-Mysterious for collaborating with me on this series and co-starring as The Captain!

~

DISCORD SERVER: That's right! The Captain and the Engineer has a Discord Server! If you would like to join and chat with other crewmates and see what's new and happening before it gets posted to Flickr, click the link!

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***NEW!!!!***

The Captain and the Engineer now has a FACEBOOK PAGE! Please come Like, Follow, and join the crew! Thank you so much for all your support!

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Poem.

Last snows of spring.

The misty peak of

Stob Coire nan Lochan,

pre-cursor to Bidean nam Bian, 1,150 metres,

hidden from view.

Rugged, raw, rocky valleys,

Raging, tumbling, plunging burns

dive down to the superlative Glencoe, below.

This place gloriously throws the senses into disarray.

This 420 million-year-old remnant of

a supervolcano subsidence caldera,

grabs the heart, mind and soul.

It is magnificent beyond my feeble words.

Marguerite en désarroi