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History
The nineteenth century
The Penny Black, the world's first postage stamp (1 May 1840)
Postage stamps have facilitated the delivery of mail since the 1840s.
Before then, ink and hand-stamps (hence the word 'stamp'), usually made from wood or cork, were often used to frank the mail and confirm the payment of postage.
The first adhesive postage stamp, commonly referred to as the Penny Black, was issued in the United Kingdom in 1840.
The invention of the stamp was part of an attempt to improve the postal system in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, which, in the early 19th century, was in disarray and rife with corruption.There are varying accounts of the inventor or inventors of the stamp.
Before the introduction of postage stamps, mail in the United Kingdom was paid for by the recipient, a system that was associated with an irresolvable problem: the costs of delivering mail were not recoverable by the postal service when recipients were unable or unwilling to pay for delivered items, and senders had no incentive to restrict the number, size, or weight of items sent, whether or not they would ultimately be paid for.
The postage stamp resolved this issue in a simple and elegant manner, with the additional benefit of room for an element of beauty to be introduced. Concurrently with the first stamps, the United Kingdom offered wrappers for mail. Later related inventions include postal stationery such as prepaid-postage envelopes, post cards, lettercards, aerogrammes, and postage meters.
The postage stamp afforded convenience for both the mailer and postal officials, more effectively recovered costs for the postal service, and ultimately resulted in a better, faster postal system.
With the conveniences stamps offered, their use resulted in greatly increased mailings during the 19th and 20th centuries. Postage stamps released during this era were the most popular way of paying for mail; however by the end of the 20th century were rapidly being eclipsed by the use of metered postage and bulk mailing by businesses
As postage stamps with their engraved imagery began to appear on a widespread basis, historians and collectors began to take notice.
The study of postage stamps and their use is referred to as philately. Stamp collecting can be both a hobby and a form of historical study and reference, as government-issued postage stamps and their mailing systems have always been involved with the history of nations.[30][31]
Although a number of people laid claim to the concept of the postage stamp, it is well documented that stamps were first introduced in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland on 1 May 1840 as a part of postal reforms promoted by Sir Rowland Hill.
With its introduction the postage fee was paid by the sender and not the recipient, though it was still possible to send mail without prepaying.
From when the first postage stamps were used, postmarks were applied to prevent the stamps being used again.
The first stamp, the "Penny black", became available for purchase 1 May 1840, to be valid as of 6 May 1840.
Two days later, 8 May 1840, the Two penny blue was introduced. The Penny black was sufficient for a letter less than half an ounce to be sent anywhere within the United Kingdom.
Both stamps included an engraving of the young Queen Victoria, without perforations, as the first stamps were separated from their sheets by cutting them with scissors.
The first stamps did not need to show the issuing country, so no country name was included on them.
The United Kingdom remains the only country to omit its name on postage stamps,using the reigning monarch's head as country identification.
Following the introduction of the postage stamp in the United Kingdom, prepaid postage considerably increased the number of letters mailed.
Before 1839, the number of letters sent in the United Kingdom was typically 76 million.
By 1850, this increased five-fold to 350 million, continuing to grow rapidly until the end of the 20th century when newer methods of indicating the payment of postage reduced the use of stamps.
Other countries soon followed the United Kingdom with their own stamps.
The canton of Zürich in Switzerland issued the Zürich 4 and 6 rappen on 1 March 1843.
Although the Penny black could be used to send a letter less than half an ounce anywhere within the United Kingdom, the Swiss did not initially adopt that system, instead continuing to calculate mail rates based on distance to be delivered.
Brazil issued the Bull's Eye stamp on 1 August 1843. Using the same printer used for the Penny black, Brazil opted for an abstract design instead of the portrait of Emperor Pedro II, so his image would not be disfigured by a postmark.
In 1845, some postmasters in the United States issued their own stamps, but it was not until 1847 that the first official United States stamps were issued: 5 and 10 cent issues depicting Benjamin Franklin and George Washington.
A few other countries issued stamps in the late 1840s.
The famous Mauritius "Post Office" stamps were issued by Mauritius in September 1847.
Many others, such as India, started their use in the 1850s, and by the 1860s most countries issued stamps.
Perforation of postage stamps began in January 1854.
The first officially perforated stamps were issued in February 1854.
Stamps from Henry Archer's perforation trials were issued in the last few months of 1850; during the 1851 parliamentary session at the House of Commons of the United Kingdom; and finally in 1853/54 after the United Kingdom government paid Archer £4,000 for his machine and the patent.
The Universal Postal Union, established in 1874, prescribed that nations shall only issue postage stamps according to the quantity of real use, and no living persons shall be taken as subjects.
The latter rule lost its significance after World War I.
The twentieth and twenty-first century
After World War II, it became customary in some countries, especially small Arab nations, to issue postage stamps en masse as it was realized how profitable that was.
During the 21st century, the amount of mail—and the use of postage stamps, accordingly—has reduced in the world because of electronic mail and other technological innovations.
Iceland has already announced that it will no longer issue new stamps for collectors because sales have decreased and there are enough stamps in stock.
In 2013 the Netherlands PostNL introduced Postzegelcodes, a nine-character alphanumeric code that is written as a 3x3 grid on the piece of mail as an alternative to stamps.
In December 2020, 590,000 people sent cards with these handwritten codes.[39]
Design
When the first postage stamps were issued in the 1840s, they followed an almost identical standard in shape, size and general subject matter. They were rectangular in shape.
They bore the images of queens, presidents and other political figures.
They also depicted the denomination of the postage-paid, and with the exception of the United Kingdom, depicted the name of the country from which issued.
Nearly all early postage stamps depict images of national leaders only.
Soon after the introduction of the postage stamp, other subjects and designs began to appear.
Some designs were welcome, others widely criticized. For example, in 1869, the United States Post Office broke the tradition of depicting presidents or other famous historical figures, instead using other subjects including a train and horse
The change was greeted with general disapproval, and sometimes harsh criticism from the American public.
Perforations
Main article: Postage stamp separation
Rows of perforations in a sheet of 1940 postage stamps
The Penny Red, 1854 issue, the first officially perforated postage stamp
The first officially perforated United States stamp (1857)
Perforations are small holes made between individual postage stamps on a sheet of stamps facilitating separation of a desired number of stamps.
The resulting frame-like, rippled edge surrounding the separated stamp defines a characteristic meme for the appearance of a postage stamp.
In the first decade of postage stamps' existence (depending on the country), stamps were issued without perforations. Scissors or other cutting mechanisms were required to separate a desired number of stamps from a full sheet.
If cutting tools were not used, individual stamps were torn off. This is evidenced by the ragged edges of surviving examples. Mechanically separating stamps from a sheet proved an inconvenience for postal clerks and businesses, both dealing with large numbers of individual stamps on a daily basis.
By 1850, methods such as rouletting wheels were being devised in efforts of making stamp separation more convenient, and less time-consuming.
The United Kingdom was the first country to issue postage stamps with perforations.
The first machine specifically designed to perforate sheets of postage stamps was invented in London by Henry Archer, an Irish landowner and railroad man from Dublin, Ireland.
The 1850 Penny Red was the first stamp to be perforated during trial course of Archer's perforating machine.
After a period of trial and error and modifications of Archer's invention, new machines based on the principles pioneered by Archer were purchased and in 1854 the United Kingdom postal authorities started continuously issuing perforated postage stamps in the Penny Red and all subsequent designs.
In the United States, the use of postage stamps caught on quickly and became more widespread when on 3 March 1851, the last day of its legislative session, Congress passed the Act of March 3, 1851 (An Act to reduce and modify the Rates of Postage in the United States).
Similarly introduced on the last day of the Congressional session four years later, the Act of March 3, 1855 required the prepayment of postage on all mailings.
Thereafter, postage stamp use in the United States quickly doubled, and by 1861 had quadrupled
In 1856, under the direction of Postmaster General James Campbell, Toppan and Carpenter, (commissioned by the United States government to print United States postage stamps through the 1850s) purchased a rotary machine designed to separate stamps, patented in England in 1854 by William and Henry Bemrose, who were printers in Derby, England.
The original machine cut slits into the paper rather than punching holes, but the machine was soon modified.
The first stamp issue to be officially perforated, the 3-cent George Washington, was issued by the United States Post Office on 24 February 1857.
Between 1857 and 1861, all stamps originally issued between 1851 and 1856 were reissued with perforations. Initial capacity was insufficient to perforate all stamps printed, thus perforated issues used between February and July 1857 are scarce and quite valuable.
EXPLORE September 05, 2008
I am uploading this from New Orleans.
I took Cara here, at my brother-in-law's this evening. 5 days of no power. Although we can hold up, is just ain't fair for the young 'un. Gotta get relief here in N.O. We'll get our power back on the 24th. Lotte's reported for duty.
This is what Gustav did. Everything is in disarray. Lives are in disarray. We are among the lucky ones. Just a wrecked (privacy) fence, a downed tree, some shingles off the roof. No electrical power. No telephone access. But we are healthy, and A-okay. And Cara held up pretty good. Alive is always best.
I am using a borrowed laptop. A borrowed internet line.
Gustav came very close. You all saw him on CNN. How close he grazed at Baton Rouge. How he razed Baton Rouge.
Upside down.Even our roses weren't spared. Spun and flipped and whacjked around. But still altogether. Did not give up. Still together inspite of.
Shot through the heart... we all are. But there's no way to go but up. Rise and be.
My family wish to thank EACH, and EVERY ONE... of YOU all, for the prayers and thoughts and expressions of love and concern. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you... so very much...
SOOC. Straight from the heart.
Now let's see what Hurricane Ike will do. :(
Miss Pennywise in pure disarray.
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Custom Blythe by gBaby wearing Stellinna
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I left it too late in the day to take my 'quick' photo, spent probably an hour trying to make her hair look pretty then gave up completely, rolled out a plain background and took a 10sec+ exposure picture of her in near darkness lol. She still looks good though :)
Imagine me, if you will, as the heroine in a horror movie. Running from the psycho killer, I of course trip in my high heels and fall down, my skirt in disarray, revealing my slip, lying there helplessly as the killer advances on me.
I had to bring some colour into my life and cheer myself up In the process as we are now into winter here in the UK although its not to cold at the moment. It is however very grey.
Looks like I will be working next Saturday so my planned day out has been thrown into disarray. I suppose I could do something Sunday?
I am trying to find a hobby Helen can do other than shopping since I have now run out of space to put clothes. In the summer I could do my painting that would be nice and relaxing. Oddly since I don't like the cold and wet I am beginning to like the idea of getting into a bit of rambling and I don't mean incessant talking! although I could do that in the warm and dry.
alternate title: bridge over troubled traffic
i have a hard time taking pictures of architecture in athens. there are too many things in the way -- cars, signs, ads, all in chaotic disarray. it's frustrating and just plain ugly.
i found myself the pedestrian bridge by santiago calatrava at the intersection of mesogeion and katehaki and thought i'd take a few shots -- but these awful elements were annoying. in the end, i decided that i'd focus a bit on the details. maybe i'll go back and try to take something more general, but, for now, you'll have to rely on flickr and google.
one of the things that made an impression on me is how many people who cross the bridge actually stop and look around, for quite a long time. my private feeling is that the urban chaos is exhausting and people need a place to look out into the distance and collect their thoughts, unfettered by the details of daily existence.
i've added this image to the map.
on the blog: toomanytribbles.blogspot.com/2009/06/calatrava-pedestrian...
mé·nag·er·ie
/məˈna(d)ZHərē/
░░ A strange or diverse collection of people or things
░░ A garden kept privately or to show to the public
Late 17th century noun
from French ménagerie
stemming from the word: ménage
1. Feeding time, 2. Human organs, 3. Laparoscopic surgery, 4. Deep Freeze , 5. Marie Antoinette's Glass Bosom, 6. Fire of Gehenna, 7. Golden Pond, 8. Galactica,
9. Dry Economy, 10. November Sunset, 11. Corn on the Cob, 12. Bike Path, 13. Velvet Underground: Skateboarding, 14. model steam engine, 15. Collaborative Arts, 16. Yashica 8mm Vintage Movie Camera,
17. Goldfish and a Guppy, 18. Tomitheos Picture Poetry: Macros, 19. Babyface, 20. Pedestrian, 21. Darkroom, 22. urban photographer's gear, 23. Tsoureki Easter Bread, 24. Year Book Entries,
25. Pentax film camera with Soligar flash (Explore), 26. ..a little bit of Paris, 27. Building Blocks, 28. True Blue (Explore), 29. Open Mike Night, 30. The new 2012 AUDI R8 Spyder, 31. stark branch on the family tree, 32. Coffee Time ☀ Sundial,
33. the lockless door ម, 34. Summer Solstice ☀ Sundial (Explore), 35. Northern Sun, 36. Lunar Eclipse, 37. rocky road, 38. Picasso Studio Painting, 39. Canadian ✿ Maple Leaf, 40. I stand before you..,
Jean-Etienne Liotard -
Still-life Tea Set [1781–83]
Getty Museum - GAP; wm
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Chinese porcelain and tea-drinking were the rage of fashionable Europe when Jean-Étienne Liotard was born. He began painting tea and coffee sets in the last two decades of his life when age, changes in taste, and his political beliefs caused a decline in requests for the pastel portraits that were his specialty. He had, however, been including fruit and porcelain still lifes in some of his portraits since about 1740. Only five of his paintings of tea and coffee sets are known today.
In this painting of tea-time disarray, a tray is set with six cups and saucers, a teapot, sugar bowl, milk jug, and a lidded vase perhaps containing an extra supply of tea leaves. A large bowl holding a teacup and saucer could also be used for dumping the slops of cold tea and used tea leaves. By the time Liotard painted this work in the late 1700s, tea-drinking had become fashionable among the middle as well as the upper classes. Liotard contrasted the luxurious materials of Chinese porcelain and silver with a cheaper tray of painted tin, known as tôle, that imitated Asian lacquer. Combining the transparent, reflective and brightly-patterned objects allowed the artist to portray strong visual contrasts.
Kaiser and Pixie keeping an eye on Ray's every move: Kaiser because he is always worried what Ray will do and Pixie as he may pounce on him at any second.
The kitchen is back in disarray as the tiling begins. The walls are crooked so work had to be done and the floor is uneven..............*sigh* you get the picture. Middle room now houses our old fridge and our new fridge freezer (which was meant as a replacement for the old one) so there is hardly any room to move. Cats like me are unhappy with the chaos but hopefully, next week will see it all finished. Doesn't help that I have had a cold all week. Mind you, looking for a positive, with all the dust and lack of room, there will be no point in doing any housework this weekend - result!
Happy Furry Friday
Wishing you all a stress free weekend
Belonging to the Vskenai class of vessels designed during the Thôvis Dynasty, the Kvâ was completed in time to see service with the Imperial fleets in Emperor Zefîrôs's attempts to stabilize the Sarthîon front.
Initially outfitted as an assault barge, the Kvâ would warp in close behind Coalition battleships and release dropships into orbit. But, as the conflict began to worsen and the Imperial advance stalled, the Kvâ was taken out of service and sent to Hethorîon for refit. Re-designated as a medical support ship the Kvâ once again departed for the lost realm.
Returning just in time for the disastrous Sarthîon counterattack, the Kvâ and her crew found the fleets in disarray. Chaos reigned as the Coalition broke and folded in vain attempts to maintain a grasp on their conquered worlds. For three months the Kvâ jumped between various battle groups as she attempted to staunch the flow of wounded. When the Kvâ and her escorts were ambushed by Sarthîon strike vessels while refueling away from the battle group, her captain was forced to make a blind jump.
Possibly the only fortune of that time, the Kvâ managed to exit into Imperial space where she made her way to friendly forces. Shortly after, the general retreat was sounded and the Kvâ set course for Thyr. There, she was hastily reconfigured as a gunboat before taking part in the final battle over Mysena.
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In her configuration as a medical support ship the Kvâ is equipped with bays for over four thousand patients and is fully outfitted for advanced surgical care. In the event that patients are encountered that are beyond the capacity of the Kvâ to treat, they can be placed within stasis and delivered to a planet side facility.
The Kvâ also has a compliment of Six medical transport shuttles for the transit of patients requiring careful monitoring or care while being moved. In addition, there are also eighteen ship to ship docking tubes in the event that patient transfer demands direct contact between vessels.
The only armament possessed by the Kvâ are a pair of ship to ship cannons housed to either side of the aft section.
🎁 Stealthic Access Release and Giveaway!
"Lift" is all about taking the classic bun to new heights of style and versatility. This hairdo features a gloriously messy, large bun that's as fun as it is chic. For those who love a bit of extra flair, there are optional messy sideburns and long bangs that add to the playful disarray. You also have the freedom to adjust the bun size or even go bang-free with the style variants, making "Lift" a perfect match for any mood or occasion. It's not just a hairstyle; it's a way to elevate your look with a carefree twist.
🎁 Share, like and comment your username on Facebook OR on this Flickr post for a chance to win 1 of 5 fatpacks! (Doing both doubles your chances) There will be 5 winners chosen on 1/14 at 11:59 AM SLT.
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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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No Group Banners, thanks.
‘Loneliness’ is the word that I personally like. I enjoy every aspect of it: the way it sounds, the way it is written and the state of going deep into your thoughts itself.
This word also means the state that people are often afraid of. Nowadays, loneliness is considered to be a personal tragedy of almost every human being. It is often said about ‘feeling alone among the crowd’, ‘feeling no connections with the world’.
But is loneliness so terrible as it seems?
The thing that calls disarray in loneliness, to be honest, enchants me. Solitude makes a person reflect on the question: ‘Who am I?’. This question sooner or later brings up another kind of question: ‘What am I for?’ That is how a person begins the search of the deep meaning. Such questions are complex and painful and I am aware why people tend to escape them. These questions are capable of denuding unattractive humanity state, its insignificance in the universe scale, its weaknesses, bare the lack of sense in life.
However, the immersion into solitude is the only way to truly understand who you are. A person in the state of loneliness can hear his inner voice and is capable of giving self-analyses.
An escape from solitude is simply an escape from oneself. For me the will for solitude means a way to art, to a creative process and to understanding of who am I.
Stay tuned!
© Mari Nino Photography
| blog
The results of one of the worst storms to hit Gibraltar in quite some time. Taken back in October 2008, this storm sunk an oil tanker just off the coast of our lighthouse, and laid to ruin many of our maritime structures. This particular area of Western beach was in disarray for some time after this.
Selfie Time ladies. Grab one of the newest poses from eTc Poses called Laying Selfie off marketplace right now. Run by Sn@tch and pick up the Danger Lingerie. Lastly, hit up Booty's Beauty for the Blood Moon Catwa makeup applier and go home. Take your selfie, laying on your bed and let people see that sexy side of you. That side that all of us have and some might not know how to show it. Well.......here's your chance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Happy shopping ladies! ☺
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Body/Face/Nails/Jewelry
• Catwa • Catya Bento Face
• Maitreya • Bento Hands, Feet, and Body
• Empire • Square Nails • Long
• Astralia • It's All About Love Rings
Skin
• DeeTalez •"Face Amaya" • Applier (Catwa)
Hair
• Magika • Disarray • 03
♥ Booty's Beauty ♥
• Blood Moon • Applier (Catwa) • Newness
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• Laying Selfie • Newness
♥ Sn@tch ♥
• Danger Lingerie (No Stocking) • Applier (Omega) • Newness
The dull glow of a few dozen screens, both television and computer, blare down their light on a figure sitting calmly in the observation room of Belle-Reve. His fingers type rapidly at the keyboard in front of him. Various external hard drives and wired devices of his own making lay in disarray across the desk among tape recorders, a flyswatter and a dozen empty bottles of various liquors.
This is Michael Patten: Aka, The Answer. He’s been in this chair for four days and hasn’t noticed it yet.
He’s talking to himself.
Answer, under his breath: What they fail to realize is the tenuous nature of our universe. How many times have we tipped over the brink? There’s been shifts long before I started seeking . . . answers. Three separate smiling men, endless crises, the ticking of doom while a blue god smiles, and our agencies patrolling the net, like Komodo dragons stalking the high-watermark. What was our world before? What has it come to? Where is it going . . .
Waller, making her presence known: Hopefully Patten, your world will be taking a shower soon. Faraday tells me you’ve been of here for four days.
Answer, still observing the screens: Time is immaterial when there’s work to be done.
Waller: Or time’s the only thing that matters. What I’m paying you better be worth it. *She gazes across all the screens, taking in everything at once until her eyes stop on a small television screen showing a Robot punching the silhouette of a man in what could have passed for his face.*
Waller: Also, what are you watching?
Answer spins around: My dear director, of course it will be. Or rather, of course it is. In the alleged four days I’ve been here, I’ve seen to it your security system is airtight. Suffocatingly so. Nothing, short of The Bat with an extra two weeks at his disposal, could get through these cyber-doors. And even then, I’ve installed a number of bat traps. Also I happen to be watching the 60’s Doom Patrol show. Not voluntarily, mind you. For some reason it seems to be on every channel. It’s damn perplexing, and it’s causing me to miss Ancient Aliens.
Waller: Hm. A simple yes or no would have sufficed, but it sounds like you’ve delivered. We’ll see how long it is though until it’s tested. Then you better pray you’re as good as you claim.
Answer: Madame, there is no need for prayer in the world of cold hard numbers.
Waller: For your sake, you’d better hope not. Hit the showers when you’re done, and let Murph know if there’s anything you’ll be needing. We’ve got a mission coming up, so I need you bright-eyed.
Answer: There is one thing I need, a copy of Kafka’s Metamorphosis. Not to read, mind you, the paranoid, scratchy prose, but because that disdainful novella still measures an eight-point-five millimeters thick, which is just enough to counteract the surprisingly uneven floor underneath this desk to my left, here.
Waller, leaving: Take it up with Murph. Or just use Amazon.
Answer, returning to his monitors: Amazon, the river of mediocrity? Not likely. Help me Franz.
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In his private quarters, Colonel Rick Flag polishes his gun. Systematically he disassembles and cleans it. He checks everything is in working order, then deftly snaps it all back into place. He’s been at this, repeating the process for a solid ten minutes. He’s frustrated, and the shooting range is full.
Doctor Karin Grace enters. She’s tired, but not depressed. She has a better handle on their situation than Flag does. She used to love him, but as time has worn on, Flag has worn down. Karin has watched him crumble, and pities him more than anything.
Rick Flag is a good soldier. Rick Flag wants to be anything else.
Karin, sitting down next to Flag: Rick, please, relax.
Rick, taking a deep breath: Karin I . . . I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. It was uncalled for and out of line.
Karin: Rick c’mon, you don’t have to apologize to me. You don’t have to apologize to anyone. It was hardly an outburst. I don’t necessarily think the best use of our talents is fighting movie props to cover up a group of black-ops convicts either, but that’s what we’ve been hired for.
Rick, setting down his gun and standing up: That’s what pisses me off so god damn much. Convicts. There’s no reason for it. There’s no sense. Agents like us are already sworn to secrecy. Relying on that human refuse is a liability in itself. Do you think Captain Goddamn Boomerang can keep a secret?
Karin, still seated: No, but that’s not the point, Rick. The point is this what we signed on for. This is our duty. It’s just another job, and eventually when these scumbags get themselves wiped out, they’ll call in us. They’ll call in the real professionals.
Flag, beginning to strap on his gear: We’ll see, Karin. Probably best that you go get Jess and Hugh. We roll out in two hours.
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Digger and Floyd have chosen their bunks in the guardroom. Digger by the door, Floyd in the corner. Digger’s telling wild stories about his time with The Rogues.
Floyd doesn’t particularly care, but he listens anyways.
He’s lost count of which cigarette he’s on.
Digger: . . . And then he made ‘em eat his own laser Kaleidoscope! Ahahaha aw strewth, those were the good ole days. Things were simpler then. Now look at us, convicted killers yesterday, G-men today. And not too bad a deal if I say so m'self.
Floyd hangs his one picture, suspended by a thumbtack, on the wall. Satisfied, he shoves the rest of his luggage under his bunk.
Digger: Hey now, *he withdraws a small dartboard from his gear* Fancy a cuppa defeat?
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Waller is marching through the halls of Belle-Reve. Meeting with Patten always makes her feel ill for some reason. She think it’s his odor.
The monstrous and strange denizens behind the bars of the penitentiary are oddly quiet for once. She counts it as a blessing.
Amanda Waller has a headache.
Waller, into walkie talkie: Faraday, get Bend, leash him, and send him to the conference room. I’ll gather our other agents.
Faraday: Can do, boss.
Waller pockets the walkie talkie, takes two Advil, dry, and approaches the guardroom door. She opens it to find Digger and Floyd scuffling. Floyd’s got a dart four centimeters from Digger’s eye.
Digger: Alright, ALRIGHT, I relent y’great git! Get offa me!
Waller: ENOUGH, both of you. Don’t make me regret any more decisions.
Sheepishly, they both stand.
Waller: Floyd. Put the dart down.
Floyd chucks the dart over his shoulder where it sticks perfectly in the center of the board, disrupting the other darts already there. Pinned by the darts to the center of the board is Floyd’s cigarette.
Waller: Digger, admit you probably cheated.
Digger, grudgingly: Yeah alright, I tried t’swindle ya.
Waller: There, that’s settled. Now get yourselves ready and report to the conference room. And if there’s any fighting on the way there I’ll lock you both up myself. *she leaves*
Digger: Bloody hell, that was a fast turn-around. Looks like we’re about to meet our new Suicide Squad. And I wasn’t tryin’ to cheat y’know, was just a gag.
Floyd: Just shut up and get ready.
St Andrew and St Patrick, Elveden, Suffolk
As you approach Elveden, there is Suffolk’s biggest war memorial, to those killed from the three parishes that meet at this point. It is over 30 metres high, and you used to be able to climb up the inside. Someone in the village told me that more people have been killed on the road in Elveden since the end of the War than there are names on the war memorial. I could well believe it. Until about five years ago, the busy traffic of the A11 Norwich to London road hurtled through the village past the church, slowed only to a ridiculously high 50 MPH. If something hits you at that speed, then no way on God's Earth are you going to survive. Now there's a bypass, thank goodness.
Many people will know St Andrew and St Patrick as another familiar landmark on the road, but as you are swept along in the stream of traffic you are unlikely to appreciate quite how extraordinary a building it is. For a start, it has two towers. And a cloister. And two naves, effectively. It has undergone three major building programmes in the space of thirty years, any one of which would have sufficed to transform it utterly.
If you had seen this church before the 1860s, you would have thought it nothing remarkable. A simple aisle-less, clerestory-less building, typical of, and indistinguishable from, hundreds of other East Anglian flint churches. A journey to nearby Barnham will show you what I mean.
The story of the transformation of Elveden church begins in the early 19th century, on the other side of the world. The leader of the Sikhs, Ranjit Singh, controlled a united Punjab that stretched from the Khyber Pass to the borders of Tibet. His capital was at Lahore, but more importantly it included the Sikh holy city of Amritsar. The wealth of this vast Kingdom made him a major power-player in early 19th century politics, and he was a particular thorn in the flesh of the British Imperial war machine. At this time, the Punjab had a great artistic and cultural flowering that was hardly matched anywhere in the world.
It was not to last. The British forced Ranjit Singh to the negotiating table over the disputed border with Afghanistan, and a year later, in 1839, he was dead. A power vacuum ensued, and his six year old son Duleep Singh became a pawn between rival factions. It was exactly the opportunity that the British had been waiting for, and in February 1846 they poured across the borders in their thousands. Within a month, almost half the child-Prince's Kingdom was in foreign hands. The British installed a governor, and started to harvest the fruits of their new territory's wealth.
Over the next three years, the British gradually extended their rule, putting down uprisings and turning local warlords. Given that the Sikh political structures were in disarray, this was achieved at considerable loss to the invaders - thousands of British soldiers were killed. They are hardly remembered today. British losses at the Crimea ten years later were much slighter, but perhaps the invention of photography in the meantime had given people at home a clearer picture of what was happening, and so the Crimea still remains in the British folk memory.
For much of the period of the war, Prince Duleep Singh had remained in the seclusion of his fabulous palace in Lahore. However, once the Punjab was secure, he was sent into remote internal exile.
The missionaries poured in. Bearing in mind the value that Sikh culture places upon education, perhaps it is no surprise that their influence came to bear on the young Prince, and he became a Christian. The extent to which this was forced upon him is lost to us today.
A year later, the Prince sailed for England with his mother. He was admitted to the royal court by Queen Victoria, spending time both at Windsor and, particularly, in Scotland, where he grew up. In the 1860s, the Prince and his mother were significant members of London society, but she died suddenly in 1863. He returned with her ashes to the Punjab, and there he married. His wife, Bamba Muller, was part German, part Ethiopian. As part of the British pacification of India programme, the young couple were granted the lease on a vast, derelict stately home in the depths of the Suffolk countryside. This was Elveden Hall. He would never see India again.
With some considerable energy, Duleep Singh set about transforming the fortunes of the moribund estate. Being particularly fond of hunting (as a six year old, he'd had two tutors - one for learning the court language, Persian, and the other for hunting to hawk) he developed the estate for game. The house was rebuilt in 1870.
The year before, the Prince had begun to glorify the church so that it was more in keeping with the splendour of his court. This church, dedicated to St Andrew, was what now forms the north aisle of the present church. There are many little details, but the restoration includes two major features; firstly, the remarkable roof, with its extraordinary sprung sprung wallposts set on arches suspended in the window embrasures, and, secondly, the font, which Mortlock tells us is in the Sicilian-Norman style. Supported by eight elegant columns, it is very beautiful, and the angel in particular is one of Suffolk's loveliest. You can see him in an image on the left.
Duleep Singh seems to have settled comfortably into the role of an English country gentleman. And then, something extraordinary happened. The Prince, steeped in the proud tradition of his homeland, decided to return to the Punjab to fulfill his destiny as the leader of the Sikh people. He got as far as Aden before the British arrested him, and sent him home. He then set about trying to recruit Russian support for a Sikh uprising, travelling secretly across Europe in the guise of an Irishman, Patrick Casey. In between these times of cloak and dagger espionage, he would return to Elveden to shoot grouse with the Prince of Wales, the future King Edward VII. It is a remarkable story.
Ultimately, his attempts to save his people from colonial oppression were doomed to failure. He died in Paris in 1893, the British seemingly unshakeable in their control of India. He was buried at Elveden churchyard in a simple grave.
The chancel of the 1869 church is now screened off as a chapel, accessible from the chancel of the new church, but set in it is the 1894 memorial window to Maharaja Prince Duleep Singh, the Adoration of the Magi by Kempe & Co.
And so, the Lion of the North had come to a humble end. His five children, several named after British royal princes, had left Elveden behind; they all died childless, one of them as recently as 1957. The estate reverted to the Crown, being bought by the brewing family, the Guinnesses.
Edward Cecil Guinness, first Earl Iveagh, commemorated bountifully in James Joyce's 1916 Ulysses, took the estate firmly in hand. The English agricultural depression had begun in the 1880s, and it would not be ended until the Second World War drew the greater part of English agriculture back under cultivation. It had hit the Estate hard. But Elveden was transformed, and so was the church.
Iveagh appointed William Caroe to build an entirely new church beside the old. It would be of such a scale that the old church of St Andrew would form the south aisle of the new church. The size may have reflected Iveagh's visions of grandeur, but it was also a practical arrangement, to accommodate the greatly enlarged staff of the estate. Attendance at church was compulsory; non-conformists were also expected to go, and the Guinnesses did not employ Catholics.
Between 1904 and 1906, the new structure went up. Mortlock recalls that Pevsner thought it 'Art Nouveau Gothic', which sums it up well. Lancet windows in the north side of the old church were moved across to the south side, and a wide open nave built beside it. Curiously, although this is much higher than the old and incorporates a Suffolk-style roof, Caroe resisted the temptation of a clerestory. The new church was rebenched throughout, and the woodwork is of a very high quality. The dates of the restoration can be found on bench ends up in the new chancel, and exploring all the symbolism will detain you for hours. Emblems of the nations of the British Isles also feature in the floor tiles.
The new church was dedicated to St Patrick, patron Saint of the Guinnesses' homeland. At this time, of course, Ireland was still a part of the United Kingdom, and despite the tensions and troubles of the previous century the Union was probably stronger at the opening of the 20th century than it had ever been. This was to change very rapidly. From the first shots fired at the General Post Office in April 1916, to complete independence in 1922, was just six years. Dublin, a firmly protestant city, in which the Iveaghs commemorated their dead at the Anglican cathedral of St Patrick, became the capital city of a staunchly Catholic nation. The Anglicans, the so-called Protestant Ascendancy, left in their thousands during the 1920s, depopulating the great houses, and leaving hundreds of Anglican parish churches completely bereft of congregations. Apart from a concentration in the wealthy suburbs of south Dublin, there are hardly any Anglicans left in the Republic today. But St Patrick's cathedral maintains its lonely witness to long years of British rule; the Iveagh transept includes the vast war memorial to WWI dead, and all the colours of the Irish regiments - it is said that 99% of the Union flags in the Republic are in the Guinness chapel of St Patrick's cathedral. Dublin, of course, is famous as the biggest city in Europe without a Catholic cathedral. It still has two Anglican ones.
Against this background then, we arrived at Elveden. The church is uncomfortably close to the busy road, but the sparkle of flint in the recent rain made it a thing of great beauty. The main entrance is now at the west end of the new church. The surviving 14th century tower now forms the west end of the south aisle, and we will come back to the other tower beyond it in a moment.
You step into a wide open space under a high, heavy roof laden with angels. There is a wide aisle off to the south; this is the former nave, and still has something of that quality. The whole space is suffused with gorgeously coloured light from excellent 19th and 20th century windows. These include one by Frank Brangwyn, at the west end of the new nave. Andrew and Patrick look down from a heavenly host on a mother and father entertaining their children and a host of woodland animals by reading them stories. It is quite the loveliest thing in the building.
Other windows, mostly in the south aisle, are also lovely. Hugh Easton's commemorative window for the former USAAF base at Elveden is magnificent. Either side are windows to Iveaghs - a gorgeous George killing a dragon, also by Hugh Easton, and a curious 1971 assemblage depicting images from the lives of Edward Guinness's heir and his wife, which also works rather well. The effect of all three windows together is particularly fine when seen from the new nave.
Turning ahead of you to the new chancel, there is the mighty alabaster reredos. It cost £1,200 in 1906, about a quarter of a million in today’s money. It reflects the woodwork, in depicting patron Saints and East Anglian monarchs, around a surprisingly simple Supper at Emmaus. This reredos, and the Brangwyn window, reminded me of the work at the Guinness’s other spiritual home, St Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, which also includes a window by Frank Brangwyn commisioned by them. Everything is of the highest quality. Rarely has the cliché ‘no expense spared’ been as accurate as it is here.
Up at the front, a little brass plate reminds us that Edward VII slept through a sermon here in 1908. How different it must have seemed to him from the carefree days with his old friend the Maharajah! Still, it must have been a great occasion, full of Edwardian pomp, and the glitz that only the fabulously rich can provide. Today, the church is still splendid, but the Guinesses are no longer fabulously rich, and attendance at church is no longer compulsory for estate workers; there are far fewer of them anyway. The Church of England is in decline everywhere; and, let us be honest, particularly so in this part of Suffolk, where it seems to have retreated to a state of siege. Today, the congregation of this mighty citadel is as low as half a dozen. The revolutionary disappearance of Anglican congregations in the Iveagh's homeland is now being repeated in a slow, inexorable English way.
You wander outside, and there are more curiosities. Set in the wall are two linked hands, presumably a relic from a broken 18th century memorial. They must have been set here when the wall was moved back in the 1950s. In the south chancel wall, the bottom of an egg-cup protrudes from among the flints. This is the trademark of the architect WD Caroe. To the east of the new chancel, Duleep Singh’s gravestone is a very simple one. It is quite different in character to the church behind it. A plaque on the east end of the church remembers the centenary of his death.
Continuing around the church, you come to the surprise of a long cloister, connecting the remodelled chancel door of the old church to the new bell tower. It was built in 1922 as a memorial to the wife of the first Earl Iveagh. Caroe was the architect again, and he installed eight bells, dedicated to Mary, Gabriel, Edmund, Andrew, Patrick, Christ, God the Father, and the King. The excellent guidebook recalls that his intention was for the bells to be cast to maintain the hum and tap tones of the renowned ancient Suffolk bells of Lavenham... thus the true bell music of the old type is maintained.
This church is magnificent, obviously enough. It has everything going for it, and is a national treasure. And yet, it has hardly any congregation. So, what is to be done?
If we continue to think of rural historic churches as nothing more than outstations of the Church of England, it is hard to see how some of them will survive. This church in particular has no future in its present form as a village parish church. New roles must be found, new ways to involve local people and encourage their use. One would have thought that this would be easier here than elsewhere.
The other provoking thought was that this building summed up almost two centuries of British imperial adventure, and that we lived in a world that still suffered from the consequences. It is worth remembering where the wealth that rebuilt St Andrew and St Patrick came from.
As so often in British imperial history, interference in other peoples’ problems and the imposition of short-term solutions has left massive scars and long-cast shadows. For the Punjab, as in Ireland, there are no simple solutions. Sheer proximity has, after several centuries of cruel and exploitative involvement, finally encouraged the British government to pursue a solution in Ireland that is not entirely based on self-interest. I fear that the Punjab is too far away for the British to care very much now about what they did there then.
Betting someone half your shit that you'll love them forever.
Bride:
Maitreya//Lara v3.5
Mandala//Steking Ears:Season 5
Clef de Peau//Blu:Milk Base
Soul//Sidhe Eyes:Seelie:Pepper
Little Bones//Centerfold
Bliss Couture//Htldy Hat
Clef de Peau Outlet//Tube Dress:White
Riske//Lola Heels:Innocence
RO//Melancholy Garter:Frost
Katat0nik//Buckle Wrist Strap
Just Magnetized//Genesis Septum:Gold/Crystal
Nox//Flight Shadow:Blue, Pearl Liner:Silver, Coma Shadow:Teal
Just Magnetized//Diva Brows & Ombre Lipstick:Fuschja 01
Letis Tattoo//Dione
Clemmm//Damaged Knees, Sad Knuckles
Shape//Self made
Groom:
Slink//Physique:v1.3
Mandala//Steking Ears:Season 5
Clef de Peau//Colton:T1 base
Drot//Ash
Soul//Blinde Eyes:Chameleon & Necros
GB//Jacket on Harness, Cross Harness
7mad;Ravens//Dean Destroyed:Jeans
Aphorism//Brogue Boots:Black
Clavv//Ribs watch necklace:Copper
Contraption//Specialist's Goggles:Crimson
CX//Spine Fragment, Wrapped Ring
CX & Contraption//Untamed Collar:Gold
Clemmm//Scratched Blush:.2, Nosebleed:.7, Light Eyebags
Lovely Disarray//The Guyliners:Dramatics
Clef de Peau//Declan:Smokey Eyes
Shape//Self made
Pose:
Inertia//Demon's Game
Set:
Tons of stuff from 7 Emporium & anc
Models:
Psyche Scribe & Chaos Richard
Hey guys, sorry about no amazing builds lately. Between school and my LEGO being thrown into disarray with a flood, I've not had much building time. Hoping to get some MOCing done come February, but likely no MocAthalon for me this year... I'll be cheering for any Maersk Blues veterans!
I did go shoot a sunrise though, for what it's worth. ;)
The rest of the store might have been in disarray, but by gosh Guest Services was going to be clean and Covid free, with it's snazzy shower curtain shield attached to the upper sign!
____________________________________
Gordmans, 2006-built (reliquidating mid-2020), Airways Blvd. near Nail Rd., Southaven MS
I found this 2004 photo of the Ideal Hosiery Co. storefront while cleaning up my photo library. Despite appearances, the window display of artificial legs wearing socks were in total disarray and covered in years of dust, the store was still open then. That didn't last too much longer because the building was undergoing a total rehab by 2007 and Lismore had decamped to New Jersey. A Subway has occupied the ground floor since at least 2011.
Also of note: Ideal Hosiery is directly across the street.
Visit my website for more.
Models: Emma and Vera Benschop
Assisted by: Brendon Burton
- - -
"But the moon in them whispers something else completely."
- - -
I have been working on this piece for a few months, and I only very recently got it to a place where I felt comfortable sharing. This photo was taken at an abandoned lodge in Wolf Creek, Oregon where we found the scattered remains of an entire community. It was eerie to see the pieces of someone's life in total disarray. The quote above was taken from a screenplay that was found at the lodge. I only managed to get three photos from this setup before my smoke bomb turned into a torch, and the defective thing could have easily set the whole house alight. Just a reminder to keep yourself (and your friends) safe, and be ready for anything when messing with fire!
Check out my Facebook Page for more updates, and you can see my personal uploads from the trip right HERE as well! Don't forget to check the #ORFG2013 group to see everyone's work posted together: here: Oregon Meetup Group!
- Ethan
Facebook | Google+ | Italian Vogue Profile | Instagram | Tumblr | Twitter
USING MY IMAGES ANYWHERE AT ALL WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND WITHOUT CREDIT IS STEALING.
With all my retirement plans in disarray, I'll be spending much more time here I reckon. Hope to see what everyone is up to & share how we are getting along during these unprecedented times.
www.flickr.com/photos/genefreeman/6036769427/in/album-721...
Being un-heard, but repeatedly
quoted these silent words of mine
as fading images of its intrinsic means
within appropriate and closed inner circle,
consider it as meaningful,
but shorted path of subtle indication
of its invisible and illusory freedom
which always with me like love,
and this is not an illness, or loneliness,
but true and real freedom of Body and my Mind,
I firmly like to say with out cry - the reason,
razor sharpen Reason to nominate my Love,
and personal experience of all aspects
of tangible sensations of every day,
(but (!!!) not malice of "Psychopathology"
of famous monstrosity incitements by Sigmund
with scheduled in "Every Day of Life"),
and I do really celebrate the fullness of my Freedom,
as it follows from the stated claims:
... you know (proverbial prologue to "may be"
rather serves as an expressive "perhaps..."),
sometimes it seemed to me, and this is
absolutely strange, that I was always very strong
and resilient mull, or stallion, but deliberately
far away from any "muchoism", its hyper-inflated
senseless stance and emptiness of mob's aggressive
posture, according to colloquial linguistic episodes
as noxious fumes around a-la smoke, and so I lived my
happiest decades and days in native by definition
UeSeSaR, today abroad from trivial and lengthily road
for current struggle to stay afloat and be creative
during all ago vanished summers, winters and
ending seasons acting relentlessly rotation-cycling
nights by saving needy Patient's life by cranking ER's
its endless hours nightly shifts a diesel-like a-week
in clinics' settings, units, labs and wards alike
bee-hives staffed by а cohorts of fellow-Humans
patients in midst the halls, through misery and pain
of loss, and suffering that soaked from basement
and up entire space, by poisoned air we all inhaled
upon Marxist's tyrannically regime of genocidal ruling,
the same emotional disarray encapsulating
overburdened floors upon all those years,
day after night and single day
(alike Sisyphus), in by Almighty's issued
punishment by helping, healing failed and
needy Humans in quiet rest for urgent X-rays,
for dressing, to and from off operation's units,
on plastering, helped wherever mine was could.
And this quasi-dramatic script reminds myself
the recitals related to mythological and epic such
theatrical by de-javu annihilating Humanity
and Life, depleting stamina and skills...
Perhaps, I almost forgotten how I'd survived in
past terror in its entirety of tyrannic yoke in
Marxist's USSR, in similarity identical de-facto
with crime of genocide of radical leftists,
and what was helped me to resist,
to guard my sanity sustained by efforts:
I'd spelled in short today, indeed,
what formally exists and still as stamina
or element of mental image and fixation upon
in any of imagination-created dream-imprints,
which helped in versification being an Ideal,
and such sublime of complementary of minima
fragments depicting divinity of Light
as an escape from total horror and control,
and paper keeps what's still by virtue of prosody
is phonologically coherent in poetical linguistics
of content by sounds falling crisply by spelling
notes on mind, while logically secluding shapes,
and rhymes, and metrics of evoked emotions from
such illusory perceived, so vain and shattered feelings
within congruence and affinity visualized by Nature...
(edited, but not finished at Feb. 2025)
Stagecoach Selkent route 51 was in disarray today becoming delayed by two sets of emergency roadworks. The first one was at Foots Cray where four ways temporary lights replaced the fixed set at the junction of Sidcup Hill and Cray Road and the second set at the junction of Bellegrove Road with Central Avenue in Welling. Here 18451 LX05 LLM creeps along Bellegrove Road and in the opposite direction many late runners turned at Foots Cray and St Mary Cray Cray station after Orpington station became a destination too far for some! From 8th December Stagecoach lose the 51 to Go-Ahead Metrobus. Tuesday 23rd October 2018. DSCN47768.
AD Trident-AD ALX400 10.5m.
St Peter’s, Stourton
The main part of St. Peter’s – the nave, chancel and the tower date from 1291. The oldest monument dates from second half of the 14th century and is most likely that of Maud Badlesmere, wife of the then owner of Stourhead.
The North Aisle was built by the 5th Lord Stourton in the early 15th century and the Baptistry was originally their chantry chapel: his tombstone lies alongside those of many of his family, and it is thought that their family vault lies under the church. Edward, the 6th Lord Stourton and his wife are probably buried there and their ornate tomb chest is by the entrance to the Chancel. They died in 1535, just as Henry VIII severed ties with the Catholic Church, which led to the demise of the Stourton family, who remained staunchly Catholic, and subsequently lost the Estate. The monument shows two lying figures, he armoured and she simply dressed, with 3 small-scale children at their heads, and their coat of arms, which includes the 6 wells of Stourhead to the east. The figures and tomb bear signs of desacratory damage.
In 1717, the Hoare banking family bought the Estate, which had fallen into disarray. The then Henry Hoare (the ‘Good’) put in hand significant improvements to the Church, and the family have continued as major benefactors. The South Aisle was built in 1848 to provide more seating – the population of the village in 1861 was 650 (today it is only 120) – and the three very fine Hoare Memorials were later moved there from the south wall of the Chancel.
I was out for a walk around a local reservoir yesterday and came across this freshly-emerged Red Admiral. I love Red Admirals as they are the only butterflies in the whole of Europe that is full-on red. We have a few red moths such as Burnets and Cinnabar, but in non-tropical butterflies it is a rare colour. This hadn't occurred to me until I read Peter Marren's excellent "Rainbow Dust: Three Centuries of Delight in British Butterflies". In France it is known as Le Vulcain, after Vulcan, blacksmith of the gods, with the dark forge, fire and splashes of blue-white hot iron. It has always been a butterfly of unpredictable numbers as it does not live in Britain year-round. It migrates from further south and builds up its numbers over each summer. In favourable weather many reach Britain to breed but in poor years they are very scarce. In autumn the butterflies fly south again, just like birds do. Nabokov (author of Lolita and a great butterfly enthusiast) recalled how vast numbers appeared across the Russian steppes up to the Arctic Circle in 1881, the year that Tsar Alexander II was assassinated which threw the state into disarray. The butterfly was thought as a messenger of death when people noticed a rather shaky figure of eight with a one below (these are the blue bits on the hindwings, clearer in some individuals but not at all obvious here) so has 1881 at the bottom of its wings.
It is a myth that the name Red Admiral is a corruption of Red Admirable. The earliest recorded use of Red Admiral was posthumously by Thomas Moffet in 1634 (Moffat died in 1604 so the name must have been in use by the early seventeenth century). The name Admirable was first used by Benjamin Wilkes (1747-9), then Moses Harris (1775), both more than a century after Admiral.
The scientific name Vanessa atalanta sounds like it is steeped in classical mythology, but this is only partly true. Atalanta was the beautiful and swift huntress who challenged suitors to a race and killed them if they lost. She was eventually beaten by Milanion who threw golden apples in front of her during the race and Atalanta could not resist stopping to gather them. The name Vanessa was given by Fabricius in 1807 after a title character in Jonathan Swift's poem; Cadenus and Vanessa. Nothing to do with classical mythology. This was an autobiographical poem about Esther Vanhomrigh's love for Swift. Esther is Vanessa and Cadenus is Swift.
It was interesting and sometimes amusing to observe the interactions of the animals. The Wildebeest adopted the ‘numbers game’ after an unsuccessful hunt by the Fast Five and followed one of the Five at a respectful distance. However, immediately the Cheetah turned to face them, the Wildebeest lost courage and fled in disarray.
Having not much time to actually shoot anything interesting as of late, one can also fall back on taking soulful images of carefully (although only somewhat) arranged domestic disarray featuring pieces of history which has absolutely no direct correlation to oneself, apart from the fact you sourced and paid for it via god-only-knows how many hands.
Does such sickening cynicism make this more or less interesting an image (or indeed at all?)
Intention: In this picture, my goal was to show dynamic tension through various lines, textures, color, and light. I admired this staircase so much, I actually used two shots of it in this project, though both from very different angles. This particular shot was actually shot upside-down, this photo was NOT rotated. While taking many different shots here, I happened to notice just how interesting it looked from below, but upside-down. This gives the picture a sense of confusion and disarray, and almost a bit of an M. C. Usher feel as well.
Reference to Reading: David DuChemin talks about lines and patterns, and how they create a visual echo and draw greater attention to the shape itself.
Outcome: Even though this is a similar picture of the same subject as my previous photo, I still find this photo to be a unique success. I think the overall "feel" of the photo is different, showing that a simple shift in perspective can change an entire story in a photograph. I really enjoy the slightly off-kilter "balance" this photo has as well.
Edits: +Exposure, +Contrast, -Highlights, -Shadows, +Blacks, +Texture, +Clarity, +Dehaze, +Vibrance, +Sharpening, +Noise Reduction, Color Mixer for Hue/Saturation, Color Grading for Midtones/Shadows/Highlights, and Vignette.
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.
Princes Street Gardens is a public park in the centre of Edinburgh, Scotland, in the shadow of Edinburgh Castle. The Gardens were created in the 1820s following the long draining of the Nor Loch and the creation of the New Town. The Nor Loch was a large loch in the centre of the city which was heavily polluted from centuries of sewage draining downhill from the Old Town. In the 1840s the railway was built in the valley, and Waverley Station opened in its present form in 1854.
The gardens run along the south side of Princes Street and are divided by The Mound. East Princes Street Gardens run from The Mound to Waverley Bridge, and cover 8.5 acres. The larger West Princes Street Gardens cover 29 acres and extend to the adjacent churches of St. John's and St. Cuthbert's, near Lothian Road in the west.
~ info from wiki
~ title from a poem by William Earnest Henley
Above the Crags that fade and gloom
Starts the bare knee of Arthur's Seat;
Ridged high against the evening bloom,
The Old Town rises, street on street;
With lamps bejewelled, straight ahead,
Like rampired walls the houses lean,
All spired and domed and turreted,
Sheer to the valley's darkling green;
Ranged in mysterious disarray,
The Castle, menacing and austere,
Looms through the lingering last of day;
And in the silver dusk you hear,
Reverberated from crag and scar,
Bold bugles blowing points of war.
inspired by & in search of the new taller bratz I ventured to my major stores for the first time since before Christmas. It's always interesting to see what state of disarray the toy sections are in post christmas & pre restocking for the new year. Target had zilch but TRU had some high points - at least nine DDG Spectras for one - and amongst what I saw were some new Winx: Harmonix dolls (multiples) for Stella & Bloom as well as some city style girls. Stella, as well as Bloom, had 2 for me to choose from and after some deliberation I choose a Stella with a slightly higher front bang but better blush. Satisfied, I casually looked through the minis they had & immediately grabbed the Musa from the concert series. Still no new Brat yet but I was glad to see our girls from Alfea!
Cosmetic Fair Fall Edition
October 15th / 30th
CF FALL EDITION Flickr Group; www.flickr.com/groups/cosmeticfair/
SPONSORS
cStar Limited, DEAD APPLES, Essences, Glam Affair, Pink Acid, Shakeup
BRANDS
Action, Adored, a.e.meth, Alice Project, Alvulo, Bens Beauty, Birdy, blackLiquid, BSD Design, Chelle,
Chic Zafari, [ef] Eskimo Fashion, FLAIR, Handmade, Joli, KOSH, KoKoLoReS, La Malvada Mujer, Lovely Disarray,
LOVELY MI, LPD, Miss C, MONS, Nuuna, Oceane, Paperbag, Pekka, Rozena, Tableau Vivant, Tarnished,
The Skinnery, TSG, White Widow, Vive9, Zibska
German type R634 bunker of Stp12, Ravenoville St-Hurbert - 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 dviation, 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:
German type R634 bunker of Stp12, Ravenoville St-Hurbert just behind Utah beach. Part of the "Atlantic wall" .
Tonemapped using three (handheld) shots made with a Fuji X-Pro3 and Fujinon 23mm f/2 lens, augustus 2020.
A set of photo's with notes of Utah Beach and the Cotentin peninsula with the Airborne sectors.
Here's the complete set of photo's made on Pointe du Hoc over the past years
My Omaha beach photo's with several viewpoints, panorama shots and notes on the fighting
These are my photo's and notes of the British and Canadian sectors: Gold, Juno and Sword.