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getting ready for the school fundraiser/auction. we are making the centerpieces....and i have no idea how these will turn out, but we'll see!! i'll post a pic when one is completed. as for now, i thought their handwriting looked pretty cool.
with "Shaggy." He's a Jungle carpet python (Morelia spilotes cheynei). Carpet pythons are native to Australia. Photo by Frank.
Dreaming water graphic available for download at http://dryicons.com/free-graphics/preview/dreaming-water/ in EPS (vector) format.
View similar vector graphics at DryIcons Graphics.
Dreams off © <---- My blog. Do you want to see?
Youtube: Dream Factory
Photograph by Yusuf Alioglu
Photograph by Yusuf Alioglu
© All rights reserved
All rights reserved and photos cannot be used without permission.
This was my favorite photo from the chicago meetup. As soon as I saw these trees I was like Katie come over and model for me and then she did an awesome hair flip and then it was perfect. Yeah. Also apparently my week 24 photo got explored so that was cool.
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Dreaming in public is an important part of our job description... We're dreamers, you see, but we're also realists, of a sort.
- William Gibson
I'm incredibly in love with this image. Foremost it is very me, very raw. I'm in a field, dressed up, on this ruined couch, dreaming away. I usually dream of life like this. Dreams to me are so very important. They shape me. You know if I've had a bad dream because I'll be in a sour mood but when I've had a good dream I'll be excited, lively and full of creativity. I learn a lot and create a lot from my dreams alone. That is why they are important and it is also why this image is important.
Dreaming is like breathing to me. Take it away and I disappear.
Photographer: Medusa Gorgona Photography
Model : Natasha PurplePort
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I am always looking for TF-collaboration with photographers, models, MUA, Hairstylist, clothes and jewerelly designers as model and photographer. Photography my passion and hobby for many years - I love it. I am full of ideas, please look at my pinterest concepting&moodboard and let me know if you want collaborate.
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DDC "Dream"
We were in the midst of intense monsoons which make long alpine hikes dangerous. However, Shyla and I were dreaming of a hike up near our local glacier. We did get our dream, about a week later.
Dream pt. 4. "I ran to chase them into the field, but they danced up to the sky- I wanted to dance with them."
This was inspired by this photo and the galaxy image was found here.
I'm lacking in the photography department.
I'm going to start doing imitation photos for a while.
My earliest memory is a lie, lying in my bed long after dark, curtains closed to the world outside, wide awake with the whole house dreaming. I was crying for attention, hoping to be heard, imitating emotional distress to rouse my parents from sleep. I wasn’t sad, I was bored to tears with too-early bedtimes. But no matter the noise I made, silence was the company I kept.
I spent hours awake for years on end, and it all blurred together. This was the insomnia season, too late to turn on the light and read, too early to get up and run around the house. It was a lifelike limbo, and it felt just as real. Somewhere in the sleepless morning, I’d lose my faith in the coming dawn. My whole world was in the shimmer of headlights through windows, rectangles of light reaching a corner above me and fading at the far wall. They were my prison spotlights, periodically passing and warning against escape. I’d look for things that didn’t exist, grey ghosts living in closet clothing, shapes capable of becoming anything in the murky midnight. It was a place I entered and left through sleeping, solitary confinement, sometime between 11:00 last night and 4:00 in the morning.
Sometimes I’d give in to imagination. I’d be a magic carpet traveler, flying anywhere I wanted from the borders of my bed. Maybe I’d turn my clunky clock-radio on low, tuned in to 106.5 in Middleton. CBC Radio, playing back the scattered news stories of the wider world. I’d push my ear to the speaker for ten minutes of events from somewhere out there, the accents of Europe and tales from a mirrored hemisphere, seeking a connection to a planet out of reach. They’d tell me what was happening where the sun was shining, and faces and voices were nothing like my own. Sometimes I’d catch a glimmer of Radio Disney in New York City, just breaking loose from the static in the early AM. I’d listen to the latest pop music, strange language in the shuddering signal before it whispered out for good. I was haunted by songs like Dreams by The Cranberries, making me shake and shiver in the shadows with a feeling I couldn’t define. Our family never played popular music, so it felt foreign and thrilling as anything, love at first listen.
I was on my own, but I wasn’t alone. I shared a bedroom with the body of my older brother. David was born five years earlier, and he slept or snored through every evening. He was always present, like a somnolistic statue, a shadow casting itself in a puddle on the far wall. There was an alley between us, two narrow feet separating two single beds. He was a quiet boy, but now and then he’d speak in his sleep. I kept a journal for a while of everything he said, labelled and dated to tease him with later.
One night, with emptiness on my mind, I closed my eyes and watched what passed through the darkness of my eyelids. I waited for unprovoked images to wind their way across my vision, dancing into the inchoate darkness. I called it “passive imagination”, taking my mind out of the equation and a break from active thinking. It was a way to dream without dreaming, more honest than inspiration, easier than making sense of anything around me. It was like getting tangled in a recurring dream, waking to a blackness that welcomed me back. Everything felt philosophical, ageless in the darkness. I had early questions that I never asked in the daytime, never requested a response when I knew that no one had the answer. “What came before the beginning?” If it was God, when was God born? How can something come from nothing, when did all this timeless time that’s haunting me begin?
“Why am I me, and not someone else?” It seemed impossible that anyone existed. I was stuck in my skull, this endless elaboration of self, where I could hear my thoughts clashing and cluttered about. By the very virtue that I couldn’t read the minds of others, I was convinced that they couldn’t be real. How could they feel like I feel, how could they be some kind of heartbroken whole human if I’ve never heard a word to prove it? The more that I was sleepless, the less I was convinced by the sallow souls of the sunny world. They were thoughts unfurled with no wind to catch them, hanging limp limbs down to gravity, and disappearing at dusk.
When I did sleep, the old familiar nightmare kept returning. I was always floating with this vertigo feeling, somewhere in dark space. The wide world was out there, hovering beneath my feet. It seemed fine for a while, just buzzing with a terrifying unknowing. Then the screams started, a billion voices in a muted mumble at full volume, nothing ever whispered so loud. While I watched, the planet was swallowed slowly by some black hole opened wide, drifting from pole to pole until every single living thing was choked out of existence. Then I was alone, just a void in the universe, and me.
Then a woman’s voice said, “When you were young and afraid of the dark, you were really afraid of me.” I’d wake up staring at the ceiling in the morning, frozen in fear, until I convinced myself that I was finally, honestly awake.
I spent my days searching for things I’d seen while sleeping. I had this deep abiding belief in déjà vu, that no matter how ordinary, whatever happened in my dreams was coming true. One day, on our way to visit friends in Saint John, my family stopped at a Berwick junk shop called Bargain Harley’s. While walking down an aisle, I suddenly remembered something from sleep the week before. I knew from a dream, that on a shelf at the end on the left, there would be a box of Lego bricks with a castle, wizard, and dragon on the cover. I walked over, and there it was, like I’d tripped out of time and caught a splinter from a future that never really mattered.
Finally, one morning, I dreamt that I woke up.
January 17, 2023
Beaconsfield, Nova Scotia
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.. from the darkness of the night..
to the daylight of the day..
to bring upon ones's delight...
not caring of any other way..
to all the dreamers of the world like me..
dream on..
dream about your passions..
dream about your love...
to all the people who do not dream..
dare to dream....
i bet many a times you will scream..
fear not....
for every dream realized is a joy uncomparable...
every moment dreamt is so affable...
Worry not of failures...
for not all dreams are fulfilled.
let them aspire you to dream of more ventures..
of better futures...
and of greener pastures...
You will win...
for always has he been successful..
who has dared to dream.
Dream on ..
Dream on...
Dada photomontage. I do not claim copyright ownership of any of the original images, which are clipped, distorted and otherwise enhanced; and which are used non-commercially under the Doctrines of Fair Use and Freedom of Expression.
Hold fast to dream
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams,
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
A bit more literal visual interpretation, this time of Genesis 37:9.
"Soon Joseph had another dream, and again he told his brothers about it. “Listen, I have had another dream,” he said. “The sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed low before me!”"
BOX DATE: 1987
MANUFACTURER: Mattel
DOLLS IN LINE: Barbie; Ken; Midge; Christie; Teresa; Skipper (European exclusive)
RELEASES: 1987 California; 1987 California Dream; 1987 Club California (foreign release)
BODY TYPE: 1968; straight arms; bend & snap legs
HEAD MOLD: 1983 "Crystal"
***The doll on the right is wearing 1975 Best Buy Fashions #9130.
PERSONAL FUN FACT written by my sister: The guy on the left has a bit of a fairy-tale story behind him. During summer 2013, we saw these mangy Barbies from the mid to late 80s. They looked and smelled like they'd been tucked in a garage, basement, or attic for quite some time. Guessing by the amount of dirt on them (especially this poor Ken), I'd say they were stored in a garage. We haggled with the seller to get the lot of them for an acceptable price. We had most of the Barbies but not the Kens. However, we mostly purchased the group out of pity--I mean, they really needed our help. Among the other girl dolls rescued from that lot, California Barbie was there. Now, we already had a California Barbie (and two Midges) at that point but...well, they were a couple, how could we ever part them? So, Ken, his girlfriend, and all their friends moved to my house, got the full spa makeover, and are now just part of the family. Several of them, including this guy, also had pink stains removed from their legs. Of all the dolls we got in that lot, this Ken and, by association, his girlfriend are my two favorite dolls we got that day! He's just so cute and so iconic to me. I usually associate the lot we got him in as the "California lot" because I like him best.
His twin on the right was acquired the first day we went to our local flea market in April 2016. He was part of the largest haul we've ever imported--the "Ken Suitcase Lot." While several other Kens from his time look really similar, California Kens' piercing blue eyes always give them away. So, Shelly figured out that he was another California Ken. She also identified the awesome fashion pack he's wearing. She told me, as we were in the process of dressing up the clean dolls, to put it on somebody. I chose him because I thought his eyes would look great with the blue on the outfit. He's SO hunky in this ensemble! Normally, (this is going to sound silly) I feel bad dressing bin dolls in clothes from the bin they were found in. I mean, if it's their original outfit, I feel like I'm doing them a service like "Barbie thought she'd never be in this dress again." However, if the doll is missing his or her original outfit, I feel like we may as well put them in something we already had--because it's new to them. It could also make them feel more loved and part of our collection. (I especially remember dressing a Courtney we found in this same lot in a Skipper fashion Dad bought me on eBay when I was a kid because I thought she needed to feel loved.) However, in the case of Ken and this outfit...Well, Shelly thought it was too cool an outfit to not use immediately when we got such a large group of man dolls (thus "Ken Suitcase Lot"). I think Ken and this fashion were practically MADE for each other. It's just so good with his blond hair and blue eyes!
I dreamed of a wedding of elaborate elegance,
A church filled with family and friends.
I asked him what kind of a wedding he wished for,
He said one that would make me his wife.
~Author Unknown
I wish i had a better sunset that day... bt the day turned out real gloomy and cloudy just as the sun was about to set
Dream Garden is an enormous glass mosaic designed by artist Maxfield Parrish (1870-1966), and executed by Louis Comfort Tiffany and Tiffany Studios, for the lobby of the Curtis Publishing Building in Philadelphia — home of the successful magazines The Ladies' Home Journal and The Saturday Evening Post. The work was commissioned by Edward Bok, Senior Editor of the Curtis Publishing Company. Over a one-month period, prior to being installed in the Curtis Building, the work was exhibited at Tiffany Studios in New York City, attracting more than 7,000 admirers and garnering widespread critical acclaim. The Dream Garden took six months to install into its home in Philadelphia.
Measuring 15 by 49 feet, Dream Garden was produced by the Tiffany Studios in 1916, using over 100,000 pieces of favrile glass, each hand-fired to achieve perfection in each of the 260 colors. The partnership of Tiffany and Parrish had been called "one of the major artistic collaborations in early 20th Century America."
This is from the Roozengaarde Tulip Display in Mount Vernon, Washington, taken four years ago. This was our second trip to Skagit Valley for their tulip festival. The tulips are just gorgeous! I think we've gone every year we've lived here! It's something you don't want to miss!
This year, the tulips seem to be taking their time sprouting up. We did have an extra hard winter: an unusual amount of snow and cold temperatures. I'm hoping we had enough rain to bring on a bumper crop this year. We shall see! Hope you enjoy my dreaming of tulips! :)
Roozengaarde Tulip Display
Skagit Valley Tulips Festival
Mount Vernon, WA
© Copyright 2019 MEA Images, Merle E. Arbeen, All Rights Reserved. If you would like a copy of this, please feel free to contact me through my FlickrMail, Facebook, or Yahoo email account. Thank you.