View allAll Photos Tagged disarray
This image presents a striking portrait of a human face composed of—or dissolving into—fragments of technological components. The right side appears to disintegrate into cables, circuitry, and micro-elements, while the serene expression evokes introspection and calm. The contrast between organic form and mechanical disarray invites reflections on identity, the fusion of human and machine, and the fragility of technological being. It serves as a powerful allegory for the interface between consciousness and artificial intelligence.
You can use this image free of charge. The terms of use and the image download are available via the following link: pixabay.com/illustrations/face-fragment-technology-woman-...
#AIart #cyberportrait #digitalidentity #futuristicart #humanmachine #techfusion #conceptualart #posthumanism
This store didn't appear much different than a lot of others I've seen during a liquidation - things starting to get cluttered and in disarray in some areas already...
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JCPenney, 1970-built(?), Cass St. near Hwy 72, Corinth MS
Shoes were up near the front of the store on the lower level, and typical for a liquidation, the department was in a noticeable state of disarray.
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Macy's, 2005-built (as Parisian, closed Spring 2021), Hwy. 385 at Houston Levee Rd., Collierville TN
Talus the Red is the last of the known Clavian skeletons. These red skeletons were reborn of magic steeped in blood.
As Skapular and the Red Star’s Legion landed in The Deadlands looking for the Heretic, Talus was sent with the rest of his crimson-hued brethren to repelled the invaders. Rushing into battle behind Clavian, Talus watched as Tibius and his army turn on the Congregation. Surrounded, Clavian confronted Skapular and was slaying by the Axe of Xarria. With most of the Necronomius in disarray, a troll hit Talus in to the ocean.
Talus walked the ocean floor for more years then he would admit to. When he finally walked to shore he started to raid small villages and settlements for weapons. Along the way he meet several other cast offs, Muskeg the Bog Goblin, the Shadow Elves, Cethin and Ozul, and Senka a vampire survivor of Skapular’s conquest of the White Spine. Now they run rackets in the North Woods with aspirations of become something more...
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:
Uncle Red sector - view towards the north.
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.
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.
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.
Warszawa, Poland
Autumn
New collection of NFT on Foundation
Living in the city is often complicated by the confusion of disarray, which I am constantly fascinated by. People, structures, motion, and noise contribute to how the city reveals itself to me.
In this collection, I used the walls of glass that make up the cityscape and give another point of view that can go unnoticed as they blend into a chaotic display.
Each 1/1 is a single image taken in Warsaw over several years. None are double exposure.
Instagram. Website. Behance. linktr.ee/ewitsoe
Wandered down to St. Joe today to photograph the lighthouse.
Had some interesting light, and the scaffolding on the outer light is in disarray. Too much ice and water to walk out there, but I did get the long lens out to get a photo.
Brickworld Chicago 2018 has now come and gone. This was my 3rd straight Brickworld attended. Having already thanked all of my collab contributors, I am a bit overdue in also thanking all of the generous friends (both known and anonymous) who had me coming home with more than I had brought with me, in both MOCs and memories. Like Simon, I was a bit in disarray (didn’t get the conflu, but did spend too much time getting that coaster to work) and it feels like I didn't give away nearly as much as I had planned to… but all the more reason to shoot for 4 Brickworlds in a row to rebalance the scales.
I'm calling this photo "Brickworld Blessed" as I came home with quite an embarrassment of LEGO riches; The door-prize I received during registration was the LEGO Ideas Caterham, so right out of the gate, I re-cooped the registration fee. Then during the opening ceremonies, I also won the Technic “Heavy Lift Helicopter”… If I had won any of the other big raffles, I think I would have been run out on a rail.
The two butterfly kits placed between those sets are the design I created for Brickloot’s Insect Themed monthly subscription box. It was a fun project to participate in, and they gave me two kits to take home for my personal collection (and I also signed two for their collection). The 1x5 Games swag in the front-left was from my pal Rowntree, who was demo-ing their latest games (along with helping Heath demo Malort to the masses). The blue hover-truck and pride badge-bricks were from Adam Myers, and the Planet Express ship was made out of Adam’s bricks by Matt DeLanoy (who else?). The small game controller is from Nick Jensen (who else?) as reigning Brickworld Master 2017 – a very clever design. In the front-right, are two “NEO-Natal” Classic Space ships made by Si-Mocs Liu, and a couple brick badges too. On the right edge is the spectacular steampunk speederbike made by Sean Mayo, as well as a figure I built out of the LOZ bricks he brought along. The boxes of “tic toc” originated from Cecilie – a subtle reminder to us all to keep building “minty fresh” builds for cons. Not pictured are the parts I received from the “Pseudo Simon-Draft” that occurred Saturday night (while Simon was resting), and that someone covered the cost for my participation. Thank you!!!
Lastly, a HUGE THANK YOU to the anonymous person who placed the “White Brick” trophy on “The Race at Shadowlands” collab display. The award nominations at Brickworld are largely defined by predetermined categories, and many times there are deserving builds that fall through the cracks. They either don’t fit well into any category, get lost in the sheer number of displayers, or perhaps for other reasons?... The “White Brick” started appearing last year on such un-nominated builds, and I am truly honored to have received one for “The Shadowlands” collaboration (and one with a cool Portal MOC inside!!!). Above all else, I really wanted to put on a great show this year, and I appreciate the recognition we received for all our efforts, creativity, and innovation. Thank you!!!
---EDIT: Learning who else received "White Bricks" this year, they are more about giving recognition to the various ways that people make/made the Brickworld experience special, either through their displays or their engagement with the community (or both!)---
I intend to write another one of my con-round-up articles on the Manifesto at some point, so will end this here. Overall, I really didn’t get to socialize with everyone nearly as much as I had wanted to, due to how much time I spent working on getting the speeder-coaster going (and keeping it running during public hours). It was worth the effort, but I definitely feel like I had less time to appreciate everyone else’s creativity than at past Brickworlds. Sorry to all of you that I didn’t get to meet up with, or the chance to talk with more.
Thanks again.
don't cry – it's only the rhythm
a beautiful recording with all its sound staging, imaging and depth... an acoustic orgasm (on the right system :P)
rho thanks: haus of darcy | lovely disarray | zibska | may soul | spellbound | sian | anc | azoury | peqe | the mesh project | trevor horn & ms. grace jones
After four generations of imperial adoptions, a male heir was finally born-yet this auspicious occasion led to the ruling dynasty's downfall. Commodus, the eldest surviving son of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina the Younger, inherited an empire largely at peace but grew into an unhinged tyrant. He sentenced many who challenged his rule to death and executed his wife, Crispina, after the marriage failed to produce an heir. Commodus was assassinated in 192 CE, throwing the empire into a state of disarray.
Out of the chaos, Septimius Severus seized power. The first emperor to hail from North Africa, Severus had no familial connection to the previous dynasty, but he retroactively adopted himself into it. Calling himself a son of Marcus Aurelius and a brother of Commodus, he justified his newfound authority through this invented lineage.
As Severan power solidified, portraits of Severus and his wife Julia Domna, who came from an elite family in Roman Syria, diverged from those of their predecessors. As seen here, Severus wore corkscrew curls over his forehead with a divided beard, and Julia wore an elaborate wig.
Rear left, portrait bust of Julia Domna (early 3rd c. CE); rear right, portrait bust of the emperor Septimius Severus (early 3rd century. CE).
Bottom left, portrait of a woman, formerly known as Crispina, wife of the emperor Commodus (second half of the 2nd century CE); bottom center, portrait of the emperor Commodus (son of Julia Domna and Septimius Severus, late 2nd century CE); bottom right, portrait of a young Commodus (ca. 170-180 CE).
Torlonia Collection, Rome; on exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago
This wasn't the intended location I originally planned to capture this working but a combination of my train arriving at Stratford late, the Central Line in disarray due to a broken down train at North Acton, the North London Line in total chaos too and power supply problems on the Gospel Oak - Barking line preventing the use of the 378s saw me bail out here while en route to Dollis Hill. This proved a wise decision as the Colas 70 passed Neasden Junction ahead of schedule. This location was on my to-do list so I was not duly unhappy about the train of events.
Zeiss Ikon Voigtländer Icarex 35S TM
The winder lever is reminiscent of the one on the Contarex. Otherwise, despite being a well-built camera, the Icarex suffers from offering too little, too late. It is symptomatic of the disarray that reigned in the management of the dying giant Zeiss Ikon.
The dial below the generously dimensioned winder lever serves to set the exposure time. The little cog at the base of the shutter button is used to set the film sensitivity, with separate displays for the selected DIN and ISO values next to it.
Shot with:
Canon EOS600D
Leica Bellows R (16860)
Leica 100mm f/4 Macro Elmar-R, bellows version (11230)
The view from across the Kennebec River along the the East Kennebec Trail in Winslow affords a view into the backside of the large Pan Am Railways backshop. Established as the system car shops of the new and growing Maine Central Railroad in 1886 the facility grew to employ over 2000 people at its peak and was the second largest employer in the city. The hub of the Maine Central's operations and the largest classification yard on the railroad the Waterville complex somehow outlasted every other facility that came into the Guilford fold excepting only the smaller Boston and Maine satellite shop at East Deerfield. Colonie shop on the D&H was shuttered, Billerica shop on the B&M closed and roundhouses in Bangor and Rigby all eventually met the wrecking ball.
Today the Waterville Roundhouse is the only working one left on the Pan Am system and the old MEC shops served as the only heavy car and locomotive facility still with a long working transfer table and everything. But you'd be forgiven if you thought the place was actually abandoned given the tattered and derelict look of the building's roof and walls and the rusted hulks of railcars and vehicles of all sorts and sizes laying about in disarray. The reality is that with the pending disappearance of Pan Am into the vast CSXT system the old shops here will almost assuredly be swept clean of all this junk and then shuttered and brokered for sale. While I certainly hope that I'm wrong about that, I don't believe that I am.
While looking through my long glass I was surprised to see this stainless steel relic from Gullford's early days. MEC 392 was never owned by the old Maine Central and was actually purchased by Guilford and used in the early 1980s on public excursions before things quickly turned sour. Acquired from Amtrak the Budd built 56 seat chair car was built for the New York Central though I don't know what year or what its original name and number was. Long out of service I was surprised to still see it out here, and I certainly wonder if it will survive....
Waterville, Maine
Saturday May 14, 2022
Threading a narrow lead through shattered sea ice, the R/V Kinfish cuts silently across the frozen skin of Svalbard’s Arctic waters. From above, the vessel is a lone mark of intent amid chaos—man-made order pushing through nature’s quiet fracturing. Each floe drifts like memory: fractured, impermanent, and beautiful in its disarray.
Pink Fuel: Doll V2 Skin
Atomic: Sugar Coated Hair
The Sugar Garden: Luminate Eyes
Cathode Rays: Nyam Nyam Mouth
Lovely Disarray: Mistress Eyeliner (Fashion Fair)
Dazed: Seether Makeup Royals Lipstick
Pixicat: Key Top (50% Sale)
Muka: Burlesque Bow (Burlesque Event)
Arsenal: Asterism Ring (Coming Soon)
Adored: Sparkling Nights Manicure (Burlesque)
Identity: Guenkyo Tattoo (Burlesque)
Foxes: Skinny Jeans (No21)
Reign: Glitter Katya Flats
Warszawa, Poland
Autumn
New collection of NFT on Foundation
Living in the city is often complicated by the confusion of disarray, which I am constantly fascinated by. People, structures, motion, and noise contribute to how the city reveals itself to me.
In this collection, I used the walls of glass that make up the cityscape and give another point of view that can go unnoticed as they blend into a chaotic display.
Each 1/1 is a single image taken in Warsaw over several years. None are double exposure.
Instagram. Website. Behance. linktr.ee/ewitsoe
Warszawa, Poland
Autumn
New collection of NFT on Foundation
Living in the city is often complicated by the confusion of disarray, which I am constantly fascinated by. People, structures, motion, and noise contribute to how the city reveals itself to me.
In this collection, I used the walls of glass that make up the cityscape and give another point of view that can go unnoticed as they blend into a chaotic display.
Each 1/1 is a single image taken in Warsaw over several years. None are double exposure.
Instagram. Website. Behance. linktr.ee/ewitsoe
The Selfie Tour. On Belgium derps with Dursty, Pezar and Martin. Many selfies, lots of cool locations. Good times.
My blog:
timster1973.wordpress.com
Also on Facebook
www.Facebook.com/TimKniftonPhotography
online store: www.artfinder.com/tim-knifton
While “America First” is the announced doctrine of the current administration, Kagan argues that a world where the United States withdraws and tends only to itself is, perhaps, the worst possible response in the face of global disarray.
if you do she'll expect you to keep up the standard for the rest of your life.
(poorly paraphrased)
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
~Credits~
Hair: [^.^Ayashi^.^] - Riya hair-Basic set @ Hair Fair 2017
Makeup: Lovely Disarray - The Kitsune Tribe - Catwa [Unisex] @ The Kawaii Project May 2017
Eyebrows: [CX] Noh + Oiran Eyebrow
Outfit: Violent Seduction Ume Hime from: The Epiphany - July 2017
Includes:
- Corset (Red) RARE
- Scarf (Red)
- Shoes (Red)
- Tanto (Red)
Tattoo: Endless Pain - Quinn - White
Background: Sari-Sari - Puppet Skybox (bento) @Kagami - July 2017
To me, the first signs of summer is when fresh corn become widely available and on sale. These first corn of the season cost only 33 cents (Canadian) each -- that is USD 26 cents; GBP 21 pence; CHF 26 cents; EUR 25 cents.
I bought 6 for under CAD $2. Yet as I was enjoying them, I could not help but feel "guilty" about the pleasures when millions of people have been displaced from their homes and homeland, their houses destroyed; their livelihoods in disarray. And those are the "lucky" ones, the unlucky ones their bodies rotting in the field in the war zone.
As word spread throughout Lenfald of its newfound independence, the rioting quickly subsided and was replaced with celebration in the street and even public displays of national pride. Citizens walked with purpose and went about their daily labors with vigor, invigorated by the exciting news. Young men once again lined up to enlist in the service of Lenfald.
Abner was sent with Gottfried to assist in the training of some of these new recruits and to share with them some of his personal experiences with the rangers. This task took the men to the southern wall of Ainesford city proper, where the new training area for spear units had been constructed. It consisted of not much more than an open field adjacent to the perimeter wall, but it was well-kept and served its purpose well.
The rangers were escorted by Captain Harmon, the commander of the training center and its garrison. He briefed the two men as they made their way alongside the wall.
"We learned a lot of valuable lessons during the war with Loreos," he said. "Namely that Lenfald simply lacked a solid defense against the might of the Loreesi cavalry and elephants. But no more." He gestured in the direction of a formation of pikemen on the drill field. "Observe."
"Ready... BRACE!" came the command from the sergeant in charge of the formation. The soldiers moved in perfect synchronization, the front rank dropping to a knee and simultaneously lowering their long spears and the men behind them filling the gaps with their own pikes. Any enemy coming against the formation would now be facing a deadly thicket of sharpened steel.
"As you can see," continued Captain Harmon with a smirk, "That problem has long been resolved. We have also been training new spear units, armored and carrying kite shields, to protect the flanks of our armies. All of our new soldiers will be useful in fending off enemy infantry and cavalry while our archers rain death upon them."
Captain Gottfried Meyrick nodded. "Well done, Captain. It would appear that Ainesford is well prepared for any contingency."
"Aye," came the reply, "and not just Ainesford, but all Lenfald."
Abner spoke up, "To what do you refer, sir? Have you more news to share?"
Captain Harmon lowered his voice. "Aye, ranger. The Areani think themselves quite clever spies, but they are nothing compared to Lenfel scouts. We have them thoroughly convinced that our nation's military is in disarray and that our people continue to riot. Even now the Loreesi are assembling a mighty host under the command of Mark of Falworth just south of our borders. They believe us weak and disorganized. This will give us a critical advantage if the desert rats decide to attempt another incursion into our lands. We will rout them and send them running back to the sand pits."
Abner furrowed his brow. "But would it not be more advantageous to arrange a great show of force along the border? Discourage Loreos from invading to begin with?"
Captain Harmon shook his head. "One would think so, at first," he replied, "but Jarius does not think in this manner. He has likely already decided whether or not he will invade Lenfald; it matters not how many men we amass at the border. Jarius' pride is too great for him to back down no matter what the odds. No, young warrior, our best course of action is to continue to feed our enemy false intelligence. But in the meantime, let's continue with our preparations."
Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky (Russian: Владимир Семёнович Высоцкий, IPA: [vlɐˈdʲimʲɪr sʲɪˈmʲɵnəvʲɪtɕ vɨˈsotskʲɪj]; 25 January 1938 – 25 July 1980), was a Soviet singer-songwriter, poet, and actor who had an immense and enduring effect on Soviet culture. He became widely known for his unique singing style and for his lyrics, which featured social and political commentary in often humorous street-jargon. He was also a prominent stage- and screen-actor. Though the official Soviet cultural establishment largely ignored his work, he was remarkably popular during his lifetime, and to this day exerts significant influence on many of Russia's musicians and actors.
Vysotsky was born in Moscow at the 3rd Meshchanskaya St. (61/2) maternity hospital. His father, Semyon Volfovich (Vladimirovich) (1915–1997), was a colonel in the Soviet army, originally from Kiev. Vladimir's mother, Nina Maksimovna, (née Seryogina, 1912–2003) was Russian, and worked as a German language translator.[3] Vysotsky's family lived in a Moscow communal flat in harsh conditions, and had serious financial difficulties. When Vladimir was 10 months old, Nina had to return to her office in the Transcript bureau of the Soviet Ministry of Geodesy and Cartography (engaged in making German maps available for the Soviet military) so as to help her husband earn their family's living.
Vladimir's theatrical inclinations became obvious at an early age, and were supported by his paternal grandmother Dora Bronshteyn, a theater fan. The boy used to recite poems, standing on a chair and "flinging hair backwards, like a real poet," often using in his public speeches expressions he could hardly have heard at home. Once, at the age of two, when he had tired of the family's guests' poetry requests, he, according to his mother, sat himself under the New-year tree with a frustrated air about him and sighed: "You silly tossers! Give a child some respite!" His sense of humor was extraordinary, but often baffling for people around him. A three-year-old could jeer his father in a bathroom with unexpected poetic improvisation ("Now look what's here before us / Our goat's to shave himself!") or appall unwanted guests with some street folk song, promptly steering them away. Vysotsky remembered those first three years of his life in the autobiographical Ballad of Childhood (Баллада о детстве, 1975), one of his best-known songs.
As World War II broke out, Semyon Vysotsky, a military reserve officer, joined the Soviet army and went to fight the Nazis. Nina and Vladimir were evacuated to the village of Vorontsovka, in Orenburg Oblast where the boy had to spend six days a week in a kindergarten and his mother worked for twelve hours a day in a chemical factory. In 1943, both returned to their Moscow apartment at 1st Meschanskaya St., 126. In September 1945, Vladimir joined the 1st class of the 273rd Moscow Rostokino region School.
In December 1946, Vysotsky's parents divorced. From 1947 to 1949, Vladimir lived with Semyon Vladimirovich (then an army Major) and his Armenian wife, Yevgenya Stepanovna Liholatova, whom the boy called "aunt Zhenya", at a military base in Eberswalde in the Soviet-occupied zone of Germany (later East Germany). "We decided that our son would stay with me. Vladimir came to stay with me in January 1947, and my second wife, Yevgenia, became Vladimir's second mother for many years to come. They had much in common and liked each other, which made me really happy," Semyon Vysotsky later remembered. Here living conditions, compared to those of Nina's communal Moscow flat, were infinitely better; the family occupied the whole floor of a two-storeyed house, and the boy had a room to himself for the first time in his life. In 1949 along with his stepmother Vladimir returned to Moscow. There he joined the 5th class of the Moscow 128th School and settled at Bolshoy Karetny [ru], 15 (where they had to themselves two rooms of a four-roomed flat), with "auntie Zhenya" (who was just 28 at the time), a woman of great kindness and warmth whom he later remembered as his second mother. In 1953 Vysotsky, now much interested in theater and cinema, joined the Drama courses led by Vladimir Bogomolov.[7] "No one in my family has had anything to do with arts, no actors or directors were there among them. But my mother admired theater and from the earliest age... each and every Saturday I've been taken up with her to watch one play or the other. And all of this, it probably stayed with me," he later reminisced. The same year he received his first ever guitar, a birthday present from Nina Maksimovna; a close friend, bard and a future well-known Soviet pop lyricist Igor Kokhanovsky taught him basic chords. In 1955 Vladimir re-settled into his mother's new home at 1st Meshchanskaya, 76. In June of the same year he graduated from school with five A's.
In 1955, Vladimir enrolled into the Moscow State University of Civil Engineering, but dropped out after just one semester to pursue an acting career. In June 1956 he joined Boris Vershilov's class at the Moscow Art Theatre Studio-Institute. It was there that he met the 3rd course student Iza Zhukova who four years later became his wife; soon the two lovers settled at the 1st Meschanskaya flat, in a common room, shielded off by a folding screen. It was also in the Studio that Vysotsky met Bulat Okudzhava for the first time, an already popular underground bard. He was even more impressed by his Russian literature teacher Andrey Sinyavsky who along with his wife often invited students to his home to stage improvised disputes and concerts. In 1958 Vysotsky's got his first Moscow Art Theatre role: that of Porfiry Petrovich in Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment. In 1959 he was cast in his first cinema role, that of student Petya in Vasily Ordynsky's The Yearlings (Сверстницы). On 20 June 1960, Vysotsky graduated from the MAT theater institute and joined the Moscow Pushkin Drama Theatre (led by Boris Ravenskikh at the time) where he spent (with intervals) almost three troubled years. These were marred by numerous administrative sanctions, due to "lack of discipline" and occasional drunken sprees which were a reaction, mainly, to the lack of serious roles and his inability to realise his artistic potential. A short stint in 1962 at the Moscow Theater of Miniatures (administered at the time by Vladimir Polyakov) ended with him being fired, officially "for a total lack of sense of humour."
Vysotsky's second and third films, Dima Gorin's Career and 713 Requests Permission to Land, were interesting only for the fact that in both he had to be beaten up (in the first case by Aleksandr Demyanenko). "That was the way cinema greeted me," he later jokingly remarked. In 1961, Vysotsky wrote his first ever proper song, called "Tattoo" (Татуировка), which started a long and colourful cycle of artfully stylized criminal underworld romantic stories, full of undercurrents and witty social comments. In June 1963, while shooting Penalty Kick (directed by Veniamin Dorman and starring Mikhail Pugovkin), Vysotsky used the Gorky Film Studio to record an hour-long reel-to-reel cassette of his own songs; copies of it quickly spread and the author's name became known in Moscow and elsewhere (although many of these songs were often being referred to as either "traditional" or "anonymous"). Just several months later Riga-based chess grandmaster Mikhail Tal was heard praising the author of "Bolshoy Karetny" (Большой Каретный) and Anna Akhmatova (in a conversation with Joseph Brodsky) was quoting Vysotsky's number "I was the soul of a bad company..." taking it apparently for some brilliant piece of anonymous street folklore. In October 1964 Vysotsky recorded in chronological order 48 of his own songs, his first self-made Complete works of... compilation, which boosted his popularity as a new Moscow folk underground star.
In 1964, director Yuri Lyubimov invited Vysotsky to join the newly created Taganka Theatre. "'I've written some songs of my own. Won't you listen?' – he asked. I agreed to listen to just one of them, expecting our meeting to last for no more than five minutes. Instead I ended up listening to him for an entire 1.5 hours," Lyubimov remembered years later of this first audition. On 19 September 1964, Vysotsky debuted in Bertolt Brecht's The Good Person of Szechwan as the Second God (not to count two minor roles). A month later he came on stage as a dragoon captain (Bela's father) in Lermontov's A Hero of Our Time. It was in Taganka that Vysotsky started to sing on stage; the War theme becoming prominent in his musical repertoire. In 1965 Vysotsky appeared in the experimental Poet and Theater (Поэт и Театр, February) show, based on Andrey Voznesensky's work and then Ten Days that Shook the World (after John Reed's book, April) and was commissioned by Lyubimov to write songs exclusively for Taganka's new World War II play. The Fallen and the Living (Павшие и Живые), premiered in October 1965, featured Vysotsky's "Stars" (Звёзды), "The Soldiers of Heeresgruppe Mitte" (Солдаты группы "Центр") and "Penal Battalions" (Штрафные батальоны), the striking examples of a completely new kind of a war song, never heard in his country before. As veteran screenwriter Nikolay Erdman put it (in conversation with Lyubimov), "Professionally, I can well understand how Mayakovsky or Seryozha Yesenin were doing it. How Volodya Vysotsky does it is totally beyond me." With his songs – in effect, miniature theatrical dramatizations (usually with a protagonist and full of dialogues), Vysotsky instantly achieved such level of credibility that real life former prisoners, war veterans, boxers, footballers refused to believe that the author himself had never served his time in prisons and labor camps, or fought in the War, or been a boxing/football professional. After the second of the two concerts at the Leningrad Molecular Physics institute (that was his actual debut as a solo musical performer) Vysotsky left a note for his fans in a journal which ended with words: "Now that you've heard all these songs, please, don't you make a mistake of mixing me with my characters, I am not like them at all. With love, Vysotsky, 20 April 1965, XX c." Excuses of this kind he had to make throughout his performing career. At least one of Vysotsky's song themes – that of alcoholic abuse – was worryingly autobiographical, though. By the time his breakthrough came in 1967, he'd suffered several physical breakdowns and once was sent (by Taganka's boss) to a rehabilitation clinic, a visit he on several occasions repeated since.
Brecht's Life of Galileo (premiered on 17 May 1966), transformed by Lyubimov into a powerful allegory of Soviet intelligentsia's set of moral and intellectual dilemmas, brought Vysotsky his first leading theater role (along with some fitness lessons: he had to perform numerous acrobatic tricks on stage). Press reaction was mixed, some reviewers disliked the actor's overt emotionalism, but it was for the first time ever that Vysotsky's name appeared in Soviet papers. Film directors now were treating him with respect. Viktor Turov's war film I Come from the Childhood where Vysotsky got his first ever "serious" (neither comical, nor villainous) role in cinema, featured two of his songs: a spontaneous piece called "When It's Cold" (Холода) and a dark, Unknown soldier theme-inspired classic "Common Graves" (На братских могилах), sung behind the screen by the legendary Mark Bernes.
Stanislav Govorukhin and Boris Durov's The Vertical (1967), a mountain climbing drama, starring Vysotsky (as Volodya the radioman), brought him all-round recognition and fame. Four of the numbers used in the film (including "Song of a Friend [fi]" (Песня о друге), released in 1968 by the Soviet recording industry monopolist Melodiya disc to become an unofficial hit) were written literally on the spot, nearby Elbrus, inspired by professional climbers' tales and one curious hotel bar conversation with a German guest who 25 years ago happened to climb these very mountains in a capacity of an Edelweiss division fighter. Another 1967 film, Kira Muratova's Brief Encounters featured Vysotsky as the geologist Maxim (paste-bearded again) with a now trademark off-the-cuff musical piece, a melancholy improvisation called "Things to Do" (Дела). All the while Vysotsky continued working hard at Taganka, with another important role under his belt (that of Mayakovsky or, rather one of the latter character's five different versions) in the experimental piece called Listen! (Послушайте!), and now regularly gave semi-official concerts where audiences greeted him as a cult hero.
In the end of 1967 Vysotsky got another pivotal theater role, that of Khlopusha [ru] in Pugachov (a play based on a poem by Sergei Yesenin), often described as one of Taganka's finest. "He put into his performance all the things that he excelled at and, on the other hand, it was Pugachyov that made him discover his own potential," – Soviet critic Natalya Krymova wrote years later. Several weeks after the premiere, infuriated by the actor's increasing unreliability triggered by worsening drinking problems, Lyubimov fired him – only to let him back again several months later (and thus begin the humiliating sacked-then-pardoned routine which continued for years). In June 1968 a Vysotsky-slagging campaign was launched in the Soviet press. First Sovetskaya Rossiya commented on the "epidemic spread of immoral, smutty songs," allegedly promoting "criminal world values, alcoholism, vice and immorality" and condemned their author for "sowing seeds of evil." Then Komsomolskaya Pravda linked Vysotsky with black market dealers selling his tapes somewhere in Siberia. Composer Dmitry Kabalevsky speaking from the Union of Soviet Composers' Committee tribune criticised the Soviet radio for giving an ideologically dubious, "low-life product" like "Song of a Friend" (Песня о друге) an unwarranted airplay. Playwright Alexander Stein who in his Last Parade play used several of Vysotsky's songs, was chastised by a Ministry of Culture official for "providing a tribune for this anti-Soviet scum." The phraseology prompted commentators in the West to make parallels between Vysotsky and Mikhail Zoschenko, another Soviet author who'd been officially labeled "scum" some 20 years ago.
Two of Vysotsky's 1968 films, Gennady Poloka's Intervention (premiered in May 1987) where he was cast as Brodsky, a dodgy even if highly artistic character, and Yevgeny Karelov's Two Comrades Were Serving (a gun-toting White Army officer Brusentsov who in the course of the film shoots his friend, his horse, Oleg Yankovsky's good guy character and, finally himself) – were severely censored, first of them shelved for twenty years. At least four of Vysotsky's 1968 songs, "Save Our Souls" (Спасите наши души), "The Wolfhunt" (Охота на волков), "Gypsy Variations" (Моя цыганская) and "The Steam-bath in White" (Банька по-белому), were hailed later as masterpieces. It was at this point that 'proper' love songs started to appear in Vysotsky's repertoire, documenting the beginning of his passionate love affair with French actress Marina Vlady.
In 1969 Vysotsky starred in two films: The Master of Taiga where he played a villainous Siberian timber-floating brigadier, and more entertaining Dangerous Tour. The latter was criticized in the Soviet press for taking a farcical approach to the subject of the Bolshevik underground activities but for a wider Soviet audience this was an important opportunity to enjoy the charismatic actor's presence on big screen. In 1970, after visiting the dislodged Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev at his dacha and having a lengthy conversation with him, Vysotsky embarked on a massive and by Soviet standards dangerously commercial concert tour in Soviet Central Asia and then brought Marina Vlady to director Viktor Turov's place so as to investigate her Belarusian roots. The pair finally wed on 1 December 1970 (causing furore among the Moscow cultural and political elite) and spent a honeymoon in Georgia. This was the highly productive period for Vysotsky, resulting in numerous new songs, including the anthemic "I Hate" (Я не люблю), sentimental "Lyricale" (Лирическая) and dramatic war epics "He Didn't Return from the Battle" (Он не вернулся из боя) and "The Earth Song" (Песня о Земле) among many others.
In 1971 a drinking spree-related nervous breakdown brought Vysotsky to the Moscow Kashchenko clinic [ru]. By this time he has been suffering from alcoholism. Many of his songs from this period deal, either directly or metaphorically, with alcoholism and insanity. Partially recovered (due to the encouraging presence of Marina Vladi), Vysotsky embarked on a successful Ukrainian concert tour and wrote a cluster of new songs. On 29 November 1971 Taganka's Hamlet premiered, a groundbreaking Lyubimov's production with Vysotsky in the leading role, that of a lone intellectual rebel, rising to fight the cruel state machine.
Also in 1971 Vysotsky was invited to play the lead in The Sannikov Land, the screen adaptation of Vladimir Obruchev's science fiction,[47] which he wrote several songs for, but was suddenly dropped for the reason of his face "being too scandalously recognisable" as a state official put it. One of the songs written for the film, a doom-laden epic allegory "Capricious Horses" (Кони привередливые), became one of the singer's signature tunes. Two of Vysotsky's 1972 film roles were somewhat meditative: an anonymous American journalist in The Fourth One and the "righteous guy" von Koren in The Bad Good Man (based on Anton Chekov's Duel). The latter brought Vysotsky the Best Male Role prize at the V Taormina Film Fest. This philosophical slant rubbed off onto some of his new works of the time: "A Singer at the Microphone" (Певец у микрофона), "The Tightrope Walker" (Канатоходец), two new war songs ("We Spin the Earth", "Black Pea-Coats") and "The Grief" (Беда), a folkish girl's lament, later recorded by Marina Vladi and subsequently covered by several female performers. Popular proved to be his 1972 humorous songs: "Mishka Shifman" (Мишка Шифман), satirizing the leaving-for-Israel routine, "Victim of the Television" which ridiculed the concept of "political consciousness," and "The Honour of the Chess Crown" (Честь шахматной короны) about an ever-fearless "simple Soviet man" challenging the much feared American champion Bobby Fischer to a match.
In 1972 he stepped up in Soviet Estonian TV where he presented his songs and gave an interview. The name of the show was "Young Man from Taganka" (Noormees Tagankalt).
In April 1973 Vysotsky visited Poland and France. Predictable problems concerning the official permission were sorted after the French Communist Party leader Georges Marchais made a personal phone call to Leonid Brezhnev who, according to Marina Vlady's memoirs, rather sympathized with the stellar couple. Having found on return a potentially dangerous lawsuit brought against him (concerning some unsanctioned concerts in Siberia the year before), Vysotsky wrote a defiant letter to the Minister of Culture Pyotr Demichev. As a result, he was granted the status of a philharmonic artist, 11.5 roubles per concert now guaranteed. Still the 900 rubles fine had to be paid according to the court verdict, which was a substantial sum, considering his monthly salary at the theater was 110 rubles. That year Vysotsky wrote some thirty songs for "Alice in Wonderland," an audioplay where he himself has been given several minor roles. His best known songs of 1973 included "The Others' Track" (Чужая колея), "The Flight Interrupted" (Прерванный полёт) and "The Monument", all pondering on his achievements and legacy.
In 1974 Melodiya released the 7" EP, featuring four of Vysotsky's war songs ("He Never Returned From the Battle", "The New Times Song", "Common Graves", and "The Earth Song") which represented a tiny portion of his creative work, owned by millions on tape. In September of that year Vysotsky received his first state award, the Honorary Diploma of the Uzbek SSR following a tour with fellow actors from the Taganka Theatre in Uzbekistan. A year later he was granted the USSR Union of Cinematographers' membership. This meant he was not an "anti-Soviet scum" now, rather an unlikely link between the official Soviet cinema elite and the "progressive-thinking artists of the West." More films followed, among them The Only Road (a Soviet-Yugoslav joint venture, premiered on 10 January 1975 in Belgrade) and a science fiction movie The Flight of Mr. McKinley (1975). Out of nine ballads that he wrote for the latter only two have made it into the soundtrack. This was the height of his popularity, when, as described in Vlady's book about her husband, walking down the street on a summer night, one could hear Vysotsky's recognizable voice coming literally from every open window. Among the songs written at the time, were humorous "The Instruction before the Trip Abroad", lyrical "Of the Dead Pilot" and philosophical "The Strange House". In 1975 Vysotsky made his third trip to France where he rather riskily visited his former tutor (and now a celebrated dissident emigre) Andrey Sinyavsky. Artist Mikhail Shemyakin, his new Paris friend (or a "bottle-sharer", in Vladi's terms), recorded Vysotsky in his home studio. After a brief stay in England Vysotsky crossed the ocean and made his first Mexican concerts in April. Back in Moscow, there were changes at Taganka: Lyubimov went to Milan's La Scala on a contract and Anatoly Efros has been brought in, a director of radically different approach. His project, Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard, caused a sensation. Critics praised Alla Demidova (as Ranevskaya) and Vysotsky (as Lopakhin) powerful interplay, some describing it as one of the most dazzling in the history of the Soviet theater. Lyubimov, who disliked the piece, accused Efros of giving his actors "the stardom malaise." The 1976 Taganka's visit to Bulgaria resulted in Vysotskys's interview there being filmed and 15 songs recorded by Balkanton record label. On return Lyubimov made a move which many thought outrageous: declaring himself "unable to work with this Mr. Vysotsky anymore" he gave the role of Hamlet to Valery Zolotukhin, the latter's best friend. That was the time, reportedly, when stressed out Vysotsky started taking amphetamines.
Another Belorussian voyage completed, Marina and Vladimir went for France and from there (without any official permission given, or asked for) flew to the North America. In New York Vysotsky met, among other people, Mikhail Baryshnikov and Joseph Brodsky. In a televised one-hour interview with Dan Rather he stressed he was "not a dissident, just an artist, who's never had any intentions to leave his country where people loved him and his songs." At home this unauthorized venture into the Western world bore no repercussions: by this time Soviet authorities were divided as regards the "Vysotsky controversy" up to the highest level; while Mikhail Suslov detested the bard, Brezhnev loved him to such an extent that once, while in hospital, asked him to perform live in his daughter Galina's home, listening to this concert on the telephone. In 1976 appeared "The Domes", "The Rope" and the "Medieval" cycle, including "The Ballad of Love".
In September Vysotsky with Taganka made a trip to Yugoslavia where Hamlet won the annual BITEF festival's first prize, and then to Hungary for a two-week concert tour. Back in Moscow Lyubimov's production of The Master & Margarita featured Vysotsky as Ivan Bezdomny; a modest role, somewhat recompensed by an important Svidrigailov slot in Yury Karyakin's take on Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. Vysotsky's new songs of this period include "The History of Illness" cycle concerning his health problems, humorous "Why Did the Savages Eat Captain Cook", the metaphorical "Ballad of the Truth and the Lie", as well as "Two Fates", the chilling story of a self-absorbed alcoholic hunted by two malevolent witches, his two-faced destiny. In 1977 Vysotsky's health deteriorated (heart, kidneys, liver failures, jaw infection and nervous breakdown) to such an extent that in April he found himself in Moscow clinic's reanimation center in the state of physical and mental collapse.
In 1977 Vysotsky made an unlikely appearance in New York City on the American television show 60 Minutes, which falsely stated that Vysotsky had spent time in the Soviet prison system, the Gulag. That year saw the release of three Vysotsky's LPs in France (including the one that had been recorded by RCA in Canada the previous year); arranged and accompanied by guitarist Kostya Kazansky, the singer for the first time ever enjoyed the relatively sophisticated musical background. In August he performed in Hollywood before members of New York City film cast and (according to Vladi) was greeted warmly by the likes of Liza Minnelli and Robert De Niro. Some more concerts in Los Angeles were followed by the appearance at the French Communist paper L’Humanité annual event. In December Taganka left for France, its Hamlet (Vysotsky back in the lead) gaining fine reviews.
1978 started with the March–April series of concerts in Moscow and Ukraine. In May Vysotsky embarked upon a new major film project: The Meeting Place Cannot Be Changed (Место встречи изменить нельзя) about two detectives fighting crime in late 1940s Russia, directed by Stanislav Govorukhin. The film (premiered on 11 November 1978 on the Soviet Central TV) presented Vysotsky as Zheglov, a ruthless and charismatic cop teaching his milder partner Sharapov (actor Vladimir Konkin) his art of crime-solving. Vysotsky also became engaged in Taganka's Genre-seeking show (performing some of his own songs) and played Aleksander Blok in Anatoly Efros' The Lady Stranger (Незнакомка) radio play (premiered on air on 10 July 1979 and later released as a double LP).
In November 1978 Vysotsky took part in the underground censorship-defying literary project Metropolis, inspired and organized by Vasily Aksenov. In January 1979 Vysotsky again visited America with highly successful series of concerts. That was the point (according to biographer Vladimir Novikov) when a glimpse of new, clean life of a respectable international actor and performer all but made Vysotsky seriously reconsider his priorities. What followed though, was a return to the self-destructive theater and concert tours schedule, personal doctor Anatoly Fedotov now not only his companion, but part of Taganka's crew. "Who was this Anatoly? Just a man who in every possible situation would try to provide drugs. And he did provide. In such moments Volodya trusted him totally," Oksana Afanasyeva, Vysotsky's Moscow girlfriend (who was near him for most of the last year of his life and, on occasion, herself served as a drug courier) remembered. In July 1979, after a series of Central Asia concerts, Vysotsky collapsed, experienced clinical death and was resuscitated by Fedotov (who injected caffeine into the heart directly), colleague and close friend Vsevolod Abdulov helping with heart massage. In January 1980 Vysotsky asked Lyubimov for a year's leave. "Up to you, but on condition that Hamlet is yours," was the answer. The songwriting showed signs of slowing down, as Vysotsky began switching from songs to more conventional poetry. Still, of nearly 800 poems by Vysotsky only one has been published in the Soviet Union while he was alive. Not a single performance or interview was broadcast by the Soviet television in his lifetime.
In May 1979, being in a practice studio of the MSU Faculty of Journalism, Vysotsky recorded a video letter to American actor and film producer Warren Beatty, looking for both a personal meeting with Beatty and an opportunity to get a role in Reds film, to be produced and directed by the latter. While recording, Vysotsky made a few attempts to speak English, trying to overcome the language barrier. This video letter never reached Beatty. It was broadcast for the first time more than three decades later, on the night of 24 January 2013 (local time) by Rossiya 1 channel, along with records of TV channels of Italy, Mexico, Poland, USA and from private collections, in Vladimir Vysotsky. A letter to Warren Beatty film by Alexander Kovanovsky and Igor Rakhmanov. While recording this video, Vysotsky had a rare opportunity to perform for a camera, being still unable to do it with Soviet television.
On 22 January 1980, Vysotsky entered the Moscow Ostankino TV Center to record his one and only studio concert for the Soviet television. What proved to be an exhausting affair (his concentration lacking, he had to plod through several takes for each song) was premiered on the Soviet TV eight years later. The last six months of his life saw Vysotsky appearing on stage sporadically, fueled by heavy dosages of drugs and alcohol. His performances were often erratic. Occasionally Vysotsky paid visits to Sklifosofsky [ru] institute's ER unit, but would not hear of Marina Vlady's suggestions for him to take long-term rehabilitation course in a Western clinic. Yet he kept writing, mostly poetry and even prose, but songs as well. The last song he performed was the agonizing "My Sorrow, My Anguish" and his final poem, written one week prior to his death was "A Letter to Marina": "I'm less than fifty, but the time is short / By you and God protected, life and limb / I have a song or two to sing before the Lord / I have a way to make my peace with him."
Although several theories of the ultimate cause of the singer's death persist to this day, given what is now known about cardiovascular disease, it seems likely that by the time of his death Vysotsky had an advanced coronary condition brought about by years of tobacco, alcohol and drug abuse, as well as his grueling work schedule and the stress of the constant harassment by the government. Towards the end, most of Vysotsky's closest friends had become aware of the ominous signs and were convinced that his demise was only a matter of time. Clear evidence of this can be seen in a video ostensibly shot by the Japanese NHK channel only months before Vysotsky's death, where he appears visibly unwell, breathing heavily and slurring his speech. Accounts by Vysotsky's close friends and colleagues concerning his last hours were compiled in the book by V. Perevozchikov.
Vysotsky suffered from alcoholism for most of his life. Sometime around 1977, he started using amphetamines and other prescription narcotics in an attempt to counteract the debilitating hangovers and eventually to rid himself of alcohol addiction. While these attempts were partially successful, he ended up trading alcoholism for a severe drug dependency that was fast spiralling out of control. He was reduced to begging some of his close friends in the medical profession for supplies of drugs, often using his acting skills to collapse in a medical office and imitate a seizure or some other condition requiring a painkiller injection. On 25 July 1979 (a year to the day before his death) he suffered a cardiac arrest and was clinically dead for several minutes during a concert tour of Soviet Uzbekistan, after injecting himself with a wrong kind of painkiller he had previously obtained from a dentist's office.
Fully aware of the dangers of his condition, Vysotsky made several attempts to cure himself of his addiction. He underwent an experimental (and ultimately discredited) blood purification procedure offered by a leading drug rehabilitation specialist in Moscow. He also went to an isolated retreat in France with his wife Marina in the spring of 1980 as a way of forcefully depriving himself of any access to drugs. After these attempts failed, Vysotsky returned to Moscow to find his life in an increasingly stressful state of disarray. He had been a defendant in two criminal trials, one for a car wreck he had caused some months earlier, and one for an alleged conspiracy to sell unauthorized concert tickets (he eventually received a suspended sentence and a probation in the first case, and the charges in the second were dismissed, although several of his co-defendants were found guilty). He also unsuccessfully fought the film studio authorities for the rights to direct a movie called The Green Phaeton. Relations with his wife Marina were deteriorating, and he was torn between his loyalty to her and his love for his mistress Oksana Afanasyeva. He had also developed severe inflammation in one of his legs, making his concert performances extremely challenging.
In a final desperate attempt to overcome his drug addiction, partially prompted by his inability to obtain drugs through his usual channels (the authorities had imposed a strict monitoring of the medical institutions to prevent illicit drug distribution during the 1980 Olympics), he relapsed into alcohol and went on a prolonged drinking binge (apparently consuming copious amounts of champagne due to a prevalent misconception at the time that it was better than vodka at countering the effects of drug withdrawal).
On 3 July 1980, Vysotsky gave a performance at a suburban Moscow concert hall. One of the stage managers recalls that he looked visibly unhealthy ("gray-faced", as she puts it) and complained of not feeling too good, while another says she was surprised by his request for champagne before the start of the show, as he had always been known for completely abstaining from drink before his concerts. On 16 July Vysotsky gave his last public concert in Kaliningrad. On 18 July, Vysotsky played Hamlet for the last time at the Taganka Theatre. From around 21 July, several of his close friends were on a round-the-clock watch at his apartment, carefully monitoring his alcohol intake and hoping against all odds that his drug dependency would soon be overcome and they would then be able to bring him back from the brink. The effects of drug withdrawal were clearly getting the better of him, as he got increasingly restless, moaned and screamed in pain, and at times fell into memory lapses, failing to recognize at first some of his visitors, including his son Arkadiy. At one point, Vysotsky's personal physician A. Fedotov (the same doctor who had brought him back from clinical death a year earlier in Uzbekistan) attempted to sedate him, inadvertently causing asphyxiation from which he was barely saved. On 24 July, Vysotsky told his mother that he thought he was going to die that day, and then made similar remarks to a few of the friends present at the apartment, who begged him to stop such talk and keep his spirits up. But soon thereafter, Oksana Afanasyeva saw him clench his chest several times, which led her to suspect that he was genuinely suffering from a cardiovascular condition. She informed Fedotov of this but was told not to worry, as he was going to monitor Vysotsky's condition all night. In the evening, after drinking relatively small amounts of alcohol, the moaning and groaning Vysotsky was sedated by Fedotov, who then sat down on the couch next to him but fell asleep. Fedotov awoke in the early hours of 25 July to an unusual silence and found Vysotsky dead in his bed with his eyes wide open, apparently of a myocardial infarction, as he later certified. This was contradicted by Fedotov's colleagues, Sklifosovsky Emergency Medical Institute physicians L. Sul'povar and S. Scherbakov (who had demanded the actor's immediate hospitalization on 23 July but were allegedly rebuffed by Fedotov), who insisted that Fedotov's incompetent sedation combined with alcohol was what killed Vysotsky. An autopsy was prevented by Vysotsky's parents (who were eager to have their son's drug addiction remain secret), so the true cause of death remains unknown.
No official announcement of the actor's death was made, only a brief obituary appeared in the Moscow newspaper Vechernyaya Moskva, and a note informing of Vysotsky's death and cancellation of the Hamlet performance was put out at the entrance to the Taganka Theatre (the story goes that not a single ticket holder took advantage of the refund offer). Despite this, by the end of the day, millions had learned of Vysotsky's death. On 28 July, he lay in state at the Taganka Theatre. After a mourning ceremony involving an unauthorized mass gathering of unprecedented scale, Vysotsky was buried at the Vagankovskoye Cemetery in Moscow. The attendance at the Olympic events dropped noticeably on that day, as scores of spectators left to attend the funeral. Tens of thousands of people lined the streets to catch a glimpse of his coffin.
According to author Valery Perevozchikov part of the blame for his death lay with the group of associates who surrounded him in the last years of his life. This inner circle were all people under the influence of his strong character, combined with a material interest in the large sums of money his concerts earned. This list included Valerii Yankelovich, manager of the Taganka Theatre and prime organiser of his non-sanctioned concerts; Anatoly Fedotov, his personal doctor; Vadim Tumanov, gold prospector (and personal friend) from Siberia; Oksana Afanasyeva (later Yarmolnik), his mistress the last three years of his life; Ivan Bortnik, a fellow actor; and Leonid Sul'povar, a department head at the Sklifosovski hospital who was responsible for much of the supply of drugs.
Vysotsky's associates had all put in efforts to supply his drug habit, which kept him going in the last years of his life. Under their influence, he was able to continue to perform all over the country, up to a week before his death. Due to illegal (i.e. non-state-sanctioned) sales of tickets and other underground methods, these concerts pulled in sums of money unimaginable in Soviet times, when almost everyone received nearly the same small salary. The payouts and gathering of money were a constant source of danger, and Yankelovich and others were needed to organise them.
Some money went to Vysotsky, the rest was distributed amongst this circle. At first this was a reasonable return on their efforts; however, as his addiction progressed and his body developed resistance, the frequency and amount of drugs needed to keep Vysotsky going became unmanageable. This culminated at the time of the Moscow Olympics which coincided with the last days of his life, when supplies of drugs were monitored more strictly than usual, and some of the doctors involved in supplying Vysotsky were already behind bars (normally the doctors had to account for every ampule, thus drugs were transferred to an empty container, while the patients received a substitute or placebo instead). In the last few days Vysotsky became uncontrollable, his shouting could be heard all over the apartment building on Malaya Gruzinskaya St. where he lived amongst VIP's. Several days before his death, in a state of stupor he went on a high speed drive around Moscow in an attempt to obtain drugs and alcohol – when many high-ranking people saw him. This increased the likelihood of him being forcibly admitted to the hospital, and the consequent danger to the circle supplying his habit. As his state of health declined, and it became obvious that he might die, his associates gathered to decide what to do with him. They came up with no firm decision. They did not want him admitted officially, as his drug addiction would become public and they would fall under suspicion, although some of them admitted that any ordinary person in his condition would have been admitted immediately.
On Vysotsky's death his associates and relatives put in much effort to prevent a post-mortem being carried out. This despite the fairly unusual circumstances: he died aged 42 under heavy sedation with an improvised cocktail of sedatives and stimulants, including the toxic chloral hydrate, provided by his personal doctor who had been supplying him with narcotics the previous three years. This doctor, being the only one present at his side when death occurred, had a few days earlier been seen to display elementary negligence in treating the sedated Vysotsky. On the night of his death, Arkadii Vysotsky (his son), who tried to visit his father in his apartment, was rudely refused entry by Yankelovich, even though there was a lack of people able to care for him. Subsequently, the Soviet police commenced a manslaughter investigation which was dropped due to the absence of evidence taken at the time of death.
Vysotsky's first wife was Iza Zhukova. They met in 1956, being both MAT theater institute students, lived for some time at Vysotsky's mother's flat in Moscow, after her graduation (Iza was 2 years older) spent months in different cities (her – in Kiev, then Rostov) and finally married on 25 April 1960.
He met his second wife Lyudmila Abramova in 1961, while shooting the film 713 Requests Permission to Land. They married in 1965 and had two sons, Arkady (born 1962) and Nikita (born 1964).
While still married to Lyudmila Abramova, Vysotsky began a romantic relationship with Tatyana Ivanenko, a Taganka actress, then, in 1967 fell in love with Marina Vlady, a French actress of Russian descent, who was working at Mosfilm on a joint Soviet-French production at that time. Marina had been married before and had three children, while Vladimir had two. They were married in 1969. For 10 years the two maintained a long-distance relationship as Marina compromised her career in France to spend more time in Moscow, and Vladimir's friends pulled strings for him to be allowed to travel abroad to stay with his wife. Marina eventually joined the Communist Party of France, which essentially gave her an unlimited-entry visa into the Soviet Union, and provided Vladimir with some immunity against prosecution by the government, which was becoming weary of his covertly anti-Soviet lyrics and his odds-defying popularity with the masses. The problems of his long-distance relationship with Vlady inspired several of Vysotsky's songs.
In the autumn of 1981 Vysotsky's first collection of poetry was officially published in the USSR, called The Nerve (Нерв). Its first edition (25,000 copies) was sold out instantly. In 1982 the second one followed (100,000), then the 3rd (1988, 200,000), followed in the 1990s by several more. The material for it was compiled by Robert Rozhdestvensky, an officially laurelled Soviet poet. Also in 1981 Yuri Lyubimov staged at Taganka a new music and poetry production called Vladimir Vysotsky which was promptly banned and officially premiered on 25 January 1989.
In 1982 the motion picture The Ballad of the Valiant Knight Ivanhoe was produced in the Soviet Union and in 1983 the movie was released to the public. Four songs by Vysotsky were featured in the film.
In 1986 the official Vysotsky poetic heritage committee was formed (with Robert Rozhdestvensky at the helm, theater critic Natalya Krymova being both the instigator and the organizer). Despite some opposition from the conservatives (Yegor Ligachev was the latter's political leader, Stanislav Kunyaev of Nash Sovremennik represented its literary flank) Vysotsky was rewarded posthumously with the USSR State Prize. The official formula – "for creating the character of Zheglov and artistic achievements as a singer-songwriter" was much derided from both the left and the right. In 1988 the Selected Works of... (edited by N. Krymova) compilation was published, preceded by I Will Surely Return... (Я, конечно, вернусь...) book of fellow actors' memoirs and Vysotsky's verses, some published for the first time. In 1990 two volumes of extensive The Works of... were published, financed by the late poet's father Semyon Vysotsky. Even more ambitious publication series, self-proclaimed "the first ever academical edition" (the latter assertion being dismissed by sceptics) compiled and edited by Sergey Zhiltsov, were published in Tula (1994–1998, 5 volumes), Germany (1994, 7 volumes) and Moscow (1997, 4 volumes).
In 1989 the official Vysotsky Museum opened in Moscow, with the magazine of its own called Vagant (edited by Sergey Zaitsev) devoted entirely to Vysotsky's legacy. In 1996 it became an independent publication and was closed in 2002.
In the years to come, Vysotsky's grave became a site of pilgrimage for several generations of his fans, the youngest of whom were born after his death. His tombstone also became the subject of controversy, as his widow had wished for a simple abstract slab, while his parents insisted on a realistic gilded statue. Although probably too solemn to have inspired Vysotsky himself, the statue is believed by some to be full of metaphors and symbols reminiscent of the singer's life.
In 1995 in Moscow the Vysotsky monument was officially opened at Strastnoy Boulevard, by the Petrovsky Gates. Among those present were the bard's parents, two of his sons, first wife Iza, renown poets Yevtushenko and Voznesensky. "Vysotsky had always been telling the truth. Only once he was wrong when he sang in one of his songs: 'They will never erect me a monument in a square like that by Petrovskye Vorota'", Mayor of Moscow Yuri Luzhkov said in his speech.[95] A further monument to Vysotsky was erected in 2014 at Rostov-on-Don.
In October 2004, a monument to Vysotsky was erected in the Montenegrin capital of Podgorica, near the Millennium Bridge. His son, Nikita Vysotsky, attended the unveiling. The statue was designed by Russian sculptor Alexander Taratinov, who also designed a monument to Alexander Pushkin in Podgorica. The bronze statue shows Vysotsky standing on a pedestal, with his one hand raised and the other holding a guitar. Next to the figure lies a bronze skull – a reference to Vysotsky's monumental lead performances in Shakespeare's Hamlet. On the pedestal the last lines from a poem of Vysotsky's, dedicated to Montenegro, are carved.
The Vysotsky business center & semi-skyscraper was officially opened in Yekaterinburg, in 2011. It is the tallest building in Russia outside of Moscow, has 54 floors, total height: 188.3 m (618 ft). On the third floor of the business center is the Vysotsky Museum. Behind the building is a bronze sculpture of Vladimir Vysotsky and his third wife, a French actress Marina Vlady.
In 2011 a controversial movie Vysotsky. Thank You For Being Alive was released, script written by his son, Nikita Vysotsky. The actor Sergey Bezrukov portrayed Vysotsky, using a combination of a mask and CGI effects. The film tells about Vysotsky's illegal underground performances, problems with KGB and drugs, and subsequent clinical death in 1979.
Shortly after Vysotsky's death, many Russian bards started writing songs and poems about his life and death. The best known are Yuri Vizbor's "Letter to Vysotsky" (1982) and Bulat Okudzhava's "About Volodya Vysotsky" (1980). In Poland, Jacek Kaczmarski based some of his songs on those of Vysotsky, such as his first song (1977) was based on "The Wolfhunt", and dedicated to his memory the song "Epitafium dla Włodzimierza Wysockiego" ("Epitaph for Vladimir Vysotsky").
Every year on Vysotsky's birthday festivals are held throughout Russia and in many communities throughout the world, especially in Europe. Vysotsky's impact in Russia is often compared to that of Wolf Biermann in Germany, Bob Dylan in America, or Georges Brassens and Jacques Brel in France.
The asteroid 2374 Vladvysotskij, discovered by Lyudmila Zhuravleva, was named after Vysotsky.
During the Annual Q&A Event Direct Line with Vladimir Putin, Alexey Venediktov asked Putin to name a street in Moscow after the singer Vladimir Vysotsky, who, though considered one of the greatest Russian artists, has no street named after him in Moscow almost 30 years after his death. Venediktov stated a Russian law that allowed the President to do so and promote a law suggestion to name a street by decree. Putin answered that he would talk to Mayor of Moscow and would solve this problem. In July 2015 former Upper and Lower Tagansky Dead-ends (Верхний и Нижний Таганские тупики) in Moscow were reorganized into Vladimir Vysotsky Street.
The Sata Kieli Cultural Association, [Finland], organizes the annual International Vladimir Vysotsky Festival (Vysotski Fest), where Vysotsky's singers from different countries perform in Helsinki and other Finnish cities. They sing Vysotsky in different languages and in different arrangements.
Two brothers and singers from Finland, Mika and Turkka Mali, over the course of their more than 30-year musical career, have translated into Finnish, recorded and on numerous occasions publicly performed songs of Vladimir Vysotsky.
Throughout his lengthy musical career, Jaromír Nohavica, a famed Czech singer, translated and performed numerous songs of Vladimir Vysotsky, most notably Песня о друге (Píseň o příteli – Song about a friend).
The Museum of Vladimir Vysotsky in Koszalin dedicated to Vladimir Vysotsky was founded by Marlena Zimna (1969–2016) in May 1994, in her apartment, in the city of Koszalin, in Poland. Since then the museum has collected over 19,500 exhibits from different countries and currently holds Vladimir Vysotsky' personal items, autographs, drawings, letters, photographs and a large library containing unique film footage, vinyl records, CDs and DVDs. A special place in the collection holds a Vladimir Vysotsky's guitar, on which he played at a concert in Casablanca in April 1976. Vladimir Vysotsky presented this guitar to Moroccan journalist Hassan El-Sayed together with an autograph (an extract from Vladimir Vysotsky's song "What Happened in Africa"), written in Russian right on the guitar.
In January 2023, a monument to the outstanding actor, singer and poet Vladimir Vysotsky was unveiled in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, in the square near the Rodina House of Culture. Author Vladimir Chebotarev.
After her husband's death, urged by her friend Simone Signoret, Marina Vlady wrote a book called The Aborted Flight about her years together with Vysotsky. The book paid tribute to Vladimir's talent and rich persona, yet was uncompromising in its depiction of his addictions and the problems that they caused in their marriage. Written in French (and published in France in 1987), it was translated into Russian in tandem by Vlady and a professional translator and came out in 1989 in the USSR. Totally credible from the specialists' point of view, the book caused controversy, among other things, by shocking revelations about the difficult father-and-son relationship (or rather, the lack of any), implying that Vysotsky-senior (while his son was alive) was deeply ashamed of him and his songs which he deemed "anti-Soviet" and reported his own son to the KGB. Also in 1989 another important book of memoirs was published in the USSR, providing a bulk of priceless material for the host of future biographers, Alla Demidova's Vladimir Vysotsky, the One I Know and Love. Among other publications of note were Valery Zolotukhin's Vysotsky's Secret (2000), a series of Valery Perevozchikov's books (His Dying Hour, The Unknown Vysotsky and others) containing detailed accounts and interviews dealing with the bard's life's major controversies (the mystery surrounding his death, the truth behind Vysotsky Sr.'s alleged KGB reports, the true nature of Vladimir Vysotsky's relations with his mother Nina's second husband Georgy Bartosh etc.), Iza Zhukova's Short Happiness for a Lifetime and the late bard's sister-in-law Irena Vysotskaya's My Brother Vysotsky. The Beginnings (both 2005).
A group of enthusiasts has created a non-profit project – the mobile application "Vysotsky"
The multifaceted talent of Vysotsky is often described by the term "bard" (бард) that Vysotsky has never been enthusiastic about. He thought of himself mainly as an actor and poet rather than a singer, and once remarked, "I do not belong to what people call bards or minstrels or whatever." With the advent of portable tape-recorders in the Soviet Union, Vysotsky's music became available to the masses in the form of home-made reel-to-reel audio tape recordings (later on cassette tapes).
Vysotsky accompanied himself on a Russian seven-string guitar, with a raspy voice singing ballads of love, peace, war, everyday Soviet life and of the human condition. He was largely perceived as the voice of honesty, at times sarcastically jabbing at the Soviet government, which made him a target for surveillance and threats. In France, he has been compared with Georges Brassens; in Russia, however, he was more frequently compared with Joe Dassin, partly because they were the same age and died in the same year, although their ideologies, biographies, and musical styles are very different. Vysotsky's lyrics and style greatly influenced Jacek Kaczmarski, a Polish songwriter and singer who touched on similar themes.
The songs – over 600 of them – were written about almost any imaginable theme. The earliest were blatnaya pesnya ("outlaw songs"). These songs were based either on the life of the common people in Moscow or on life in the crime people, sometimes in Gulag. Vysotsky slowly grew out of this phase and started singing more serious, though often satirical, songs. Many of these songs were about war. These war songs were not written to glorify war, but rather to expose the listener to the emotions of those in extreme, life-threatening situations. Most Soviet veterans would say that Vysotsky's war songs described the truth of war far more accurately than more official "patriotic" songs.
Nearly all of Vysotsky's songs are in the first person, although he is almost never the narrator. When singing his criminal songs, he would adopt the accent and intonation of a Moscow thief, and when singing war songs, he would sing from the point of view of a soldier. In many of his philosophical songs, he adopted the role of inanimate objects. This created some confusion about Vysotsky's background, especially during the early years when information could not be passed around very easily. Using his acting talent, the poet played his role so well that until told otherwise, many of his fans believed that he was, indeed, a criminal or war veteran. Vysotsky's father said that "War veterans thought the author of the songs to be one of them, as if he had participated in the war together with them." The same could be said about mountain climbers; on multiple occasions, Vysotsky was sent pictures of mountain climbers' graves with quotes from his lyrics etched on the tombstones.
Not being officially recognized as a poet and singer, Vysotsky performed wherever and whenever he could – in the theater (where he worked), at universities, in private apartments, village clubs, and in the open air. It was not unusual for him to give several concerts in one day. He used to sleep little, using the night hours to write. With few exceptions, he wasn't allowed to publish his recordings with "Melodiya", which held a monopoly on the Soviet music industry. His songs were passed on through amateur, fairly low quality recordings on vinyl discs and magnetic tape, resulting in his immense popularity. Cosmonauts even took his music on cassette into orbit.
Musically, virtually all of Vysotsky's songs were written in a minor key, and tended to employ from three to seven chords. Vysotsky composed his songs and played them exclusively on the Russian seven string guitar, often tuned a tone or a tone-and-a-half below the traditional Russian "Open G major" tuning. This guitar, with its specific Russian tuning, makes a slight yet notable difference in chord voicings than the standard tuned six string Spanish (classical) guitar, and it became a staple of his sound. Because Vysotsky tuned down a tone and a half, his strings had less tension, which also colored the sound.
His earliest songs were usually written in C minor (with the guitar tuned a tone down from DGBDGBD to CFACFAC)
Songs written in this key include "Stars" (Zvyozdy), "My friend left for Magadan" (Moy drug uyekhal v Magadan), and most of his "outlaw songs".
At around 1970, Vysotsky began writing and playing exclusively in A minor (guitar tuned to CFACFAC), which he continued doing until his death.
Vysotsky used his fingers instead of a pick to pluck and strum, as was the tradition with Russian guitar playing. He used a variety of finger picking and strumming techniques. One of his favorite was to play an alternating bass with his thumb as he plucked or strummed with his other fingers.
Often, Vysotsky would neglect to check the tuning of his guitar, which is particularly noticeable on earlier recordings. According to some accounts, Vysotsky would get upset when friends would attempt to tune his guitar, leading some to believe that he preferred to play slightly out of tune as a stylistic choice. Much of this is also attributable to the fact that a guitar that is tuned down more than 1 whole step (Vysotsky would sometimes tune as much as 2 and a half steps down) is prone to intonation problems.
Vysotsky had a unique singing style. He had an unusual habit of elongating consonants instead of vowels in his songs. So when a syllable is sung for a prolonged period of time, he would elongate the consonant instead of the vowel in that syllable.
Mission Log: 8.1
...
This is Carver. The aftermath of Gand was fierce, overwhelming, and we were all left in disarray of the experience. In the firefight, he had made his final stand, and he had been killed by Grievous’ own hand, in a heroic attempt save us all. But, That was a different story, a different mission, and it isn’t the moment for flashbacks.
After the harsh environment of Gand, this was bliss. I felt almost limitless as I adapted to the new terrain, moving swiftly and easily through the water, under the surface of Manaan’s Ocean. However, I didn’t have long to enjoy it, for we were quickly assigned our first objective. We were ordered to investigate an abandoned Kolto mining station, who we had lost contact with days before. Separatist involvement was expected in the situation, and our mission was to take full control of the station. However, the droids weren’t our only problem. We had detected large amounts of Limpet Parasites surrounding the facility, who usually were known to feed on spilled oil and other substances in the water. Unfortunately, the mass amount of Kolto that they have consumed seems to have encouraged them to attach themselves to organic life forms, which will allow them to take over their intentions, and will possibly cause a threat to our troops. We were assigned to break through the defenses surrounding the compound, and extract any secure Selkath workers that were trapped inside the facility. The problem was, our armor didn’t make us immune to the infestation either, so that when we were entered the building, we were aware that infected miners and aquatic droids wouldn’t be our only enemies we may have to fight.
...
Connection Dropped.
Michelangelo's depiction of the Madonna and Child is located in the Church of Our Lady in Bruges, Belgium. She was the subject of the 2014 film "The Monuments Men". The statue has been removed twice from the church; once in 1794 during the French Revolution, and again in WWII.
The work is also notable in that it was the only sculpture by Michelangelo to leave Italy during his lifetime.
It is quite a serene and engaging sculpture; unfortunately, most of the church is currently in disarray due to an ongoing renovation.
Pioneer House:
Improved economic conditions and business confidence during the 1920s contributed to one of the CBD’s (central business district) most significant building booms. Built in 1924, Pioneer House is a surviving example of the changes wrought to the CBD as a result of this building boom.
Hoey, Fry Limited began commercial life as a Brisbane-based engineering supply company situated in 150 Edward Street in 1913. The firm’s establishment date is reflective of the development of the engineering profession in Brisbane. In 1874, the Queensland Post Office Directory (POD) listed only a handful of “Civil Engineers”. By 1890s, the number of engineers and the categories under which they fell had quadrupled. By 1900, there were six categories of engineers listed in the POD, occupying two pages. The categories included “milling”, “mining”, “refrigerating” and “electrical”. In the 1910 - 1911 POD, “Engineers’ Suppliers” is listed for the first time. This inclusion provides a useful context for the establishment of Hoey, Fry Ltd in 1913. The steady growth of the engineering profession reflected the broader growth and development of Brisbane in this period, especially the expansion of an electricity grid through the CBD and across into South Brisbane, the growth of secondary industry and the appearance and rise in popularity of the motorcar.
Hoey, Fry Ltd were clearly successful, for within a decade of its establishment, it was able to purchase the allotment adjacent to Invicta House, which was then under construction. The company planned to erect a multi-storey building in Edward Street at an approximate cost of £15,000. Construction on the building began in 1923 and was completed in 1924. Hoey, Fry Ltd was the exclusive representative of ‘Pioneer’ Belting & Mechanical Leathers, thus providing a likely explanation for the naming of the company’s building as ‘Pioneer House’.
The construction of the building contributed to the further development of the CBD’s principal warehouse precinct. The eastern portion of the CBD, roughly bounded by Elizabeth, Edward, Alice, and George Streets, developed as a warehouse and light industry precinct in the late nineteenth century. This section of the city was once known as Frogs Hollow because it was a low-lying, marshy area prone to flooding. In the mid to late nineteenth century the area was largely filled with small residences, boarding houses, and small businesses. From the 1880s, warehouses and small factories that were attracted to the area (as it was close to the wharf facilities located along the Town Reach of the river) progressively replaced many of these earlier buildings. This process reached its apogee in the 1920s.
Brisbane’s CBD also experienced a substantial building boom during the 1920s. According to the editor of the Architecture & Building Journal of Queensland, 1923 was the year that “The Building Boom” was manifestly apparent. Pioneer House, construction of which began in 1923, made an early contribution to this building boom.
As an important new building, Pioneer House was featured in some detail in an article that appeared in the Architecture & Building Journal of Queensland in July 1924. The article begins by describing the building’s height of five storeys and a basement. The floors and stairs were made with reinforced concrete and attention was drawn to how well lit the premises was. The building had an electric lift, which by “an ingenious device…will be able to serve the basement through the roof over the ground floor area”. Some attention was also paid also to the interior: “Handsome swing doors of silky oak and bevelled glass lead to each floor”. Pioneer House was the visible symbol of the company’s success, with even the Architecture & Building Journal of Queensland commenting that Hoey & Fry were “to be congratulated on their enterprise”.
The architectural firm of Atkinson & Conrad designed the building. This firm (1918 - 1937) was one of the more prominent architectural firms operating in Brisbane in this period and was responsible for a number of significant buildings in Brisbane, including the Masonic Temple in Ann Street (1930), Brisbane Boy’s College (1931), and the Courier-Mail Building in Queen Street (1937). Atkinson & Conrad also designed Invicta House, the building adjacent to Pioneer House. Walter Taylor, who is best known for construction of the Walter Taylor Bridge in Indooroopilly, constructed the building. The use of reinforced concrete in the construction of Invicta House was a hallmark of Taylor’s construction method in this period.
Hoey, Fry Ltd occupied the ground floor and continued to do so until at least the 1950s. The upper floors of Pioneer House were leased as offices to a variety of businesses over time. In 1986, Hoey, Fry Ltd was taken over by the major Australian company, Pacific Dunlop.
As with most retail premises within the CBD, Pioneer House has undergone a number of internal changes over the years to accommodate the requirements of its different commercial tenants. Alterations were carried out on the shop front in 1959 and office space in 1959 and 1979. Still, Pioneer House, along with Invicta House and the neighbouring Hotel Embassy (1928), give a distinctive, modern appearance to the Elizabeth and Edward Street intersection within the CBD.
The Brisbane History Group identified Pioneer House as part of Brisbane’s commercial heritage in 2002, when they included it in their publication Walking Tours – Brisbane’s Commercial Heritage 1900 - 1940. Of the nearly 90 buildings erected in the CBD during the important interwar building boom, more than half have since been demolished. Pioneer House is one of the few remaining buildings that is indicative of the changing landscape of the CBD that occurred during this period.
Invicta House:
Hooper & Harrison Ltd, woollen merchants, based in Sydney, operated from Elizabeth Street premises from 1895. The company was one of a number of woollen merchants operating in the city at this time. Initially, an agent represented the company. In 1919, however, the company opened a Queensland office and was thereafter known as Hooper & Harrison (Queensland) Ltd Woollen Merchants. By 1914, Queensland was the largest supplier of wool in Australia and Brisbane the principal centre for wool sales in the state, providing a reasonable explanation for the establishment of a Queensland office by the company in the CBD.
The company progressively purchased a parcel of land on the corner of Elizabeth and Edward Streets between 1919 and 1922, after which work was begun on the construction of a purpose-built warehouse building with office space. The building was completed in 1923 and was given the name of ‘Invicta House’ after the ‘Famous Invicta’ brand of clothing of which Hooper & Harrison was the sole proprietor in Brisbane.
The construction of the building contributed to the further development of the CBD’s principal warehouse precinct. The eastern portion of the CBD, roughly bounded by Elizabeth, Edward, Alice and George Streets, developed as a warehouse and light industry precinct in the late nineteenth century. This section of the city was once known as Frogs Hollow because it was a low-lying, marshy area prone to flooding. In the mid- to late-nineteenth century, the area was largely filled with small residences, boarding houses, and small businesses. From the 1880s, warehouses and small factories that were attracted to the area (as it was close to the wharf facilities located along the Town Reach of the river) progressively replaced many of these earlier buildings. This process reached its apogee in the 1920s.
Brisbane’s CBD also experienced a substantial building boom during the 1920s. According to the editor of the Architecture & Building Journal of Queensland, 1923 was the year that “The Building Boom” was manifestly apparent. The article stated: “Among the architects’ offices a very fine assortment of work is to be found either actually commenced or on the board” with Invicta House being one of the examples mentioned. The construction of Invicta House was considered integral to the beginning of the CBD building boom.
Following the construction of Invicta House, the Architectural & Building Journal of Queensland published an article drawing particular attention to the fact that the building was fireproof, serviced by a lift and particularly well lit, even in the basement. The qualities of the interior were thus described:
The reinforced concrete stairs are rendered to the first floor level in Terrazzo with wrot iron palisading and maple handrails. The entrance hall has a panelled dado in Queensland maple wax…The offices and mouldings to doors are similarly treated and give a most pleasing effect.
In February 1924, it was reported that Invicta House was a “handsome warehouse, occupying one of our most promising business centres.” The cost of the building was given as approximately £25,000. With its modern appearance, the building made a distinctive contribution to the warehouse precinct in the eastern part of the CBD.
The architectural firm of Atkinson & Conrad designed the building. This firm (1918 - 1937) was one of the more prominent architectural firms operating in Brisbane in this period and was responsible for a number of significant buildings in Brisbane, including the Masonic Temple in Ann Street (1930), Brisbane Boy’s College (1931) and the Courier-Mail Building in Queen Street (1937). Atkinson & Conrad also designed Pioneer House, the building adjacent to Invicta House. Walter Taylor, who is best known for construction of the Walter Taylor Bridge in Indooroopilly, constructed the building. The use of reinforced concrete in the construction of Invicta House was a hallmark of Taylor’s construction method in this period.
Hooper & Harrison continued to operate from the first floor of Invicta House until at least the 1950s, while the other floors were leased by a variety of different tenants. The most prominent kind of business activity was warehousing, consonant with the building’s original design. By the 1940s, however, an accountant and the real estate agent, Ray White had offices there.
Ownership of the building passed to Labor Enterprises Pty Ltd, the commercial arm of the Australian Labor Party (ALP), in 1961, though they occupied the building from 1958. The then Labor-owned radio station, 4KQ, also operated from Invicta House from the late 1950s. Invicta House was, until 1972, the state ALP headquarters. Political conditions for the ALP were mixed during their period of occupancy of Invicta House. On the one hand, the federal and state branches of the Party had fallen into disarray following a split in Labor ranks in the 1950s. This split effectively stymied ALP re-election both federally and in Queensland in this period. At local government level, however, the situation was much different. A Labor administration, headed by Clem Jones, was elected in 1961. The Jones era of municipal government (1961 - 1975) in Brisbane is historically significant. According to one historian: “Clem Jones will be remembered very much for bringing Brisbane into the modern era”. As Lord Mayor of a Labor administration, this legacy reflects the broader significance of the ALP and its state headquarters in Brisbane.
Source: Brisbane City Council Heritage Register.
So live your life, ay ay ay.
Instead of chasing that paper.
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Ain’t got no time for no haters
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
No telling where it’ll take you.
Just live your life (Oh!), ay ay ay.
Cause I’m a paper chaser.
Just living my life.
I’m the opposite of moderate, immaculately polished with the spirit of a hustler
and the swagger of a college kid.
Allergic to the counterfeit, impartial to the politics.
Articulate but still would grab a nigga by the collar quick.
Whoever had problems, they reckonsile they just holla ‘tip.
If that don’t work and just fails, then turn around and follow ‘tip.
I got love for the game but ay I’m not in love with all of it.
I do without the fame and the rappers nowadays are comedy.
The hootin’ and the hollerin’, back and forth with the argueing.
Where you from, who you know, what you make and what kind of car you in.
Seems as though you lost sight of whats important with the positive.
And checks until your bank account, and you’re about poverted.
Your values is a disarrayed, prioritized are horribly.
Unhappy with the riches cause you pis-pone morraly.
Ignoring all prior advice and fore warning.
And we might be full of ourselves all of a sudden aren’t we?
Models: Moa+nono+Hayooy+yasmeen(yoyo)+nenos I poid
Piced by: Moa xD
Edit: Miss Flower <3
Autorack train Q234 shoots under the CP5 signal, as they sail trhough Little Ferry, on a warm June afternoon. If all goes well, they'll have the railroad all the way to Doremus Ave yard, since they just passed Q434, which is one of their Docks line obstacles. On the left is a collection of NYS&W power in various states of disarray. The 3806 has been tagged and shopped, with damage to the steps and handrails on both ends.
The Museum Club, Flagstaff, AZ
The Museum Club, a Route 66 icon in Flagstaff, Arizona, began its life as the boyhood dream of taxidermist Dean Eldredge in 1931. When Eldredge found a petrified frog as a child in Wisconsin, it spurred a lifetime as a sportsman, adventurer and collector. Dean began his taxidermy business in 1918. In the early 1930s Eldredge saw an opportunity when he purchased a piece of federal land, three miles east of Flagstaff on Route 66. Soon, he hired unemployed lumberjacks to cut trees, haul them to his property and built what he touted as "the biggest log cabin in the world.” Later he would revise his claim to "the biggest log cabin in the nation,” then to "the biggest log cabin in Arizona.” In any case, he finally had a showplace for his lifetime collection of stuffed animals, six-legged sheep, Winchester rifles, Indian artifacts, two-headed calves, and more than 30,000 other items. Operating as a museum, taxidermist shop, and a trading post, scores of Route 66'rs stopped in to visit Dean and his collection during the five years that he operated the museum. Before long, locals dubbed the museum "The Zoo,” a name that has stuck with the building to this day.
Unfortunately, when Eldredge died of cancer, most of his collection was sold and the building was purchased by a Flagstaff saddle maker named Doc Williams. In 1936, Williams, profiting from the many travelers of the Mother Road and the end of Prohibition, opened a night club that was an immediate success.
Over the years, the building passed through several owners and survived as a nightclub, recording studio and roadhouse. By the 1950s, the club had deteriorated to a rough and tumble roadhouse patronized by a crowd that often times preferred a little blood with its beer.
In 1963, Don Scott, a steel guitarist who’d spent time with Bob Wills’ Texas Playboys, bought the club and moved to Flagstaff along with his wife Thorna. Scott wasted no time turning the club into a country music dance hall and began to book old friends like Wills, and new ones, like Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson. "Pappy,” as Scott was called by his friends, had many contacts in the music industry and before long he put the club "on the map” in the western swing circuit. Wynn Stewart, Wanda Jackson and the Texas Playboys were just a few of the acts which appeared at The Museum Club. Many aspiring recording stars, making the pilgrimage from Nashville to Las Vegas, would book into The Museum Club. Some, like Barbara Mandrell, simply showed up, grabbed a guitar and played impromptu.
Living in an upstairs apartment in the building, both Don and Thorna Scott were active in running the successful club until 1973, when a tragedy ended Thorna’s life. After a long night, the couple had closed the club and Thorna headed up the stairs to retire for the evening, leaving Don behind on the first floor to finish up.
However, before she reached the apartment she apparently tripped and fell from near the top of the stairs. Breaking her neck, Thorna lapsed into a coma and a few weeks later she died. Don Scott became terribly despondent after her death, suffering from constant memories of the event and loneliness. Unable to endure the pain any longer, Don took his own life in 1975 by killing himself with a rifle in front of the fireplace.
In 1978 Martin and Stacie Zanzucchi bought the club, began extensive restorations, and added taxidermy mounts, antlers and period pieces to the club. Today, "The Zoo" continues to host the rising stars of country music and the new sounds of Nashville. Recent concert performers have included Asleep at the Wheel, Marty Brown, and the Clinton Category. Popular groups such as Mogollon, and Rednecks-The Band, play regularly at The Museum Club.
Interestingly, the club not only hosts its many country western musicians and fans, but also the ghosts of former owners Don and Thorna Scott. Signs that Don and Thorna never left are evident to employees as well as guests. Footsteps and creaks are often heard coming from the upstairs floor where they once lived, lights have a habit of flickering on and off, chairs rock back and forth on their own, and fires have been lit in the hearth when no one is around. Thorna apparently makes her appearance at all hours of the day, often seen on the back stairway and the back bar where confused patrons sometimes mistake her for a bartender. She's also been seen in dark corner booths too. Occasionally customers will buy her a drink only to find she has vanished when they return
One man, who lived in the upstairs apartment for a time, says he was pinned to the floor by a friendly female ghost. Evidently, Thorna has a sense of humor in her life beyond the living, as she stated to the man, while sitting on his chest, "You only need to fear the living." Then the apparition disappeared. Wasting no time, the tenant broke through the upstairs window, ran across the roof and disappeared, never to return.
One bartender, just starting her shift, was surprised to see the bar shelf disarrayed. Beer bottles were switched around, drink mixes were at the wrong end, and some liquor bottles had been knocked over. Because the bar area had been straightened up the night before, she had no choice but to blame it on the Scotts.
Many guests of the establishment have taken pictures and videos where they report ghost like images appearing on the film.
Recently, one employee of the Museum Club reports that though the power in the upstairs floor has been shut off, the lights have been coming on more and more often. Others have reported also seeing the lights from the street while driving by late at night.
Once located on the outskirts of town, this old highway watering hole is a Route 66 throwback now surrounded by present day Flagstaff. Today, the Museum Club is a popular roadhouse and dance club, offering the best in live country western and after hours entertainment. Check out the great music at the Museum Club and while you’re there, keep your eye out for a ghost or two lurking in the background.
From Legends of America.com
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.
rumpled patterns within
warmth in mood
imagination among the lines
iPhone 11 Pro; Halide Photo App; Image Post: Affinity Photo 1.7.3
2020-02-01-iOS-0692
(Creative Commons 2020) GT Cooper
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.
Venetian lion of St. Mark in CROATIA
The first ruler to unite Pannonia and Dalmatia was Croatian king Tomislav, who was crowned in AD 925 and recognised by the pope as king. His territory included virtually all of modern Croatia as well as part of Bosnia and the coast of Montenegro.
By the mid-10th century, the country’s fragile unity was threatened by power struggles in its ruling class. Venice took advantage of the disarray to launch an invasion of Dalmatia at the turn of the 11th century that established its first foothold on the coast.
Krešimir IV (1058–74) regained control over Dalmatia with the help of the papacy, but the kingdom once again descended into anarchy upon his death. The next king, Zvonimir (1075–89), also cemented his authority with the help of the pope, but the independent land he forged did not survive his death.
*
Venetian rule in Dalmatia and Istria was a ruthless record of nearly unbroken economic exploitation. Early in their rule, the Venetians ordered the destruction of Dalmatian mulberry trees in order to kill the silk trade for no other apparent reason than to keep the region poor and dependent. Other trees also suffered as the Venetians systematically denuded the landscape in order to provide wood for their ships and building up Venecia. Olive oil, figs, wine, fish and salt were in effect confiscated, since merchants were forced to sell only to Venetians and only at the price the Venetians were willing to pay. Dalmatian fishermen were unable to salt their fish for preservation because salt was kept unreasonably expensive by a state monopoly. Shipbuilding was effectively banned since Venice tolerated no competition with its own ships. No roads or schools were built, and no investment was made in local industry. All manufactured articles had to be imported and, by the latter half of the 18th century, even agricultural products had to be imported to keep the population – barely surviving on roots and grass – from starving to death. In addition to Venice’s iron-fisted economic policies, the population was also subject to malaria and plague epidemics that ravaged the region.
.
Abandoned Abused Street Dogs.
Back Story .........................................
Lots of things have been going on around here.
Sometimes I zip out to the monkey temple in the
afternoon just to do a resupply for the nuns & monks.
Mamas skin problem seems to holding it's own and I've
made plans to take her in again on Thursday to see the
dog doctor.
Medical issues have put my normal schedule in a disarray.
Tomorrow is Wednesday and the dog doctor is always
closed on that day.The only day a week he takes off.
Point is that's why Mama is going to see him on Thursday.
From what I've been told the population of primates out here
has risen from 2000 to somewhere around 3000 . I've noticed
a tremendous amount of mother monkeys with babies on board.
Rabies is still an issue around Thailand and if it comes to the
monkey temple we'll have a huge problem to deal with !
The dogs all have their rabies shots and are now going
through their yearly booster program .
This inserted news article is about rabies in Thailand......................
Rabies is still an unresolved public health problem in Thailand. Approximately 300 cases of human rabies have been reported annually (Table 1) [1]. This number, however, is generally accepted to be under recorded. Half of the patients are below 15 years of age (Table 2). Rabies deaths have been reported all year round with slight increment in number during summer. For post-exposure prophylaxis against rabies, each year, about 80,000 people are treated at the health authority services throughout the country [2]. An underestimated number of patients have visited private clinics for the same purposes without any record.
Remember some time back I too was taking rabies shots ..;-(
Anyway for some good news, on the way home I purchased
3 kilos of fresh, sweet, organically grown mangoes...............;-)
Thank You.
Jon&Crew.
Please help with your donations here.
www.gofundme.com/saving-thai-temple-dogs.
Please,
No Awards, Invites, Large Logos or Copy an Pastes.
.