View allAll Photos Tagged eTHIC
Not entirely sure which moining bee (Andrena sp.) this one is, but judging by how full the scopae (pollen baskets) on the hind legs are with lovely yellow pollen all the way up on the sides, it at least has very good work ethic.
Taken just after sunset and shot during the beautiful hazy soft light. The beautiful Basilica del Redentore again taken on last years Rohan Reilly work shop.
I keep looking through the files and finding shots that I think are worth processing. I highly recommend Rohans workshops as they are great fun and also very worthwhile. They are tiring though as his work ethic is 2nd to none.
I am desperate to do another as soon as possible if your reading this Rohan :-).
I hope you like the image and please comment and or critique.
Thanks in advance, Ricky
The most exotic city of Cuba, lots of different ethic groups have settled themselves in this city.
The second biggest city, after Havana. Santiago de Cuba, a city full with history of the revolution, the fight against dictator Batista.
The Capital of Santiago de Cuba Province, which has one of the first seven settlements that the Europeans founded in Cuba early in the 16th century, is one of the most picturesque on the island.
The founding fathers made the most of its stunning setting a coastal terrace bordering and impressive purse-like bayand used the wood from the tall forest on the nearby mountain range to raise the first buildings of what would, for several years, be Cuba's first capital.
Meanwhile, at Jerry's apartment...
"Well, George, you can't give up. You know, just keep knocking on doors."
"Knocking on doors? It's like, once they talk to me, they bar and lock the doors!"
...laughter...
"George, you have to keep trying. I was fired from Pendant Publishing but then I got the job with Mr. Pitt. And then, when I lost that, I was hired on at the J. Peterman Catalog."
"You met Peterman in the street! You were walking around in a daze!"
...laughter...
"Well... I mean... I have a job..."
"Maybe I should walk around in a daze in the rain."
...laughter...
"You're not far from that already."
...laughter...
"Funny, Jerry. Just what I need! Kick me when I'm down!"
"Oh, come on, George! Okay, do you have any other companies to visit?"
"Right now just one. The Dunder Mifflin Paper Company."
"What's that?"
"I don't know. Their information was very vague. Their company statement didn't make sense. They don't seem to have a real purpose."
"Hey, that sounds perfect for you!"
...laughter...
"Look, I would appreciate a company with a good work ethic."
"George, you never work, and you have no ethics."
...laughter...
"I don't know why I even bother to come over any more."
"Hey, nobody's twisting your arm."
...laughter...
...applause...
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A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
Funko
Mini Moments
Seinfeld - Jerry's Apartment
Jerry
George
Elaine
AI assisted image according to my instructions, rendered as Vintage ink drawing with sepia hues and finished with my handmade chiaroscuro digital painting and post-processure.
PROLOGUE: I support any means and tools to make and improve art. And I second the idea that AI doesn't need to be criminalized, but, instead, supported. Obviously, not indiscriminately but in the right places, in the suitable groups, with ponder and gut and with the right artists. (See my quest here below and in my considerations down in the comments roll).
EXCERPT :
"With AI you can create ugly monsters as well as beautiful creatures
(or even beautiful monsters) but the artistic level you can realize and appreciate
when, in both cases, you don't just leave the prompt result unaltered but, instead,
you improve* it with your hands, especially to correct errors and distortions
(like feet detached from legs, 7 fingered hands, distorted eyes and various
other several mutilations)."
*or, as my new Friend & AI master Philip says "Anatomically and surgically enhanced".
Are you beginning to be annoyed by AI ? Then readdit:
I hope my modern Hentai with a Vintage spirit will be liked or held per interesting enough to proceed reading what matters me the most on a serious criticality about the wrong usage of the Artificial Intelligence which is overflowing and overwhelming a lot.
This odd image has been inspired to me by watching some poorly done AI pics, for instance a woman meant to be a normal woman, even sexy, when the "prompt commissioner" didn't pay attention to the fact the picture was generated with deformed/distorted limbs, extra-long totally unproportioned feet, hands with 6/7 fingers or even disconnected from the wrists.
I am not meaning those creatures that intentionally are made with dark or naughty appearance (like fantasy vampires etc.) but to the figurative imagery that is believed to be perfect by whom directed the AI prompt without even bothering to move his hands to refine and improve what sorted out.
This let me deduce some people, due to lazyness or lack of talent, generate an AI image but can't help editing and refining it to make it pleasurable or realistic and they yet dare to call them "women" or "girls" without considering they generated distrofic bodies which may be disappointing and disturbing for the viewer or, if you prefer, just call them less than trash.
So, I been willing to generate a very stylistic monster where, even the distrofic body parts are as intentional as well cared and edited by applying a good processure, retouching and even some digital painting.
All in all, the final result looks like to me more acceptable and elegant than some careless distorted images made to resemble real and that someone dares to call "art" ;-)
>>> Even if I am not at all a AI expert, a lil hint I experienced by myself, for those who are not or not yet able to recognize if an image is a AI and if it has a dignity or not: look at the eyes, the limbs and especially the hands of the body. If you see many errors, that is for sure AI but, especially, a poorly done image where the "author" didn't engage at all to improve it, probably due to lack of skills.
I have seen beautiful AI imagines, full of poetry and so pleasurable but, guess what, when, instead, they are poorly done, it's typical to see them dumped in zillions of depot groups.
(For more, read the comment boxes below. As usual, I welcome anyone interested in taking part in the dialogue exchanging ideas in a respectful confrontation).
Seems the beautiful boss of the HQ wishes to meet with me after my 'hard' work ethic and my 'stamina' to perform many tasks efficiently. Just sitting with my cafecito while I wait for her to arrive.
Skawennati’s ground breaking practice skillfully links Hauenosaunee culture with cyber aesthetics. Her machinima – a technique of movie-making in virtual environments – includes cultural and historical references and highlights Hauenosaunee diplomacy, sovereignty and futurity. By evoking the cultural practice of extending the longhouse to accommodate new generations and others into the community, the title speaks to a deeply held ethic of inclusion.
This wasn't the photo I had originally intended to post tonight... but a message from an old friend took me in another direction and after a lot of tears, I arrived here. An old door on an old house.
I met Jim back when I worked at Mennen (B.K. ... before kids). He was my lab partner, the best lab partner I ever had.... which has nothing to do with his scientific skills or work ethic... he was simply, one of the most fun people I had ever worked with. He was also exceptionally talented... which also had nothing to do with the job. He wrote songs, and played guitar, and sang.... in the stairwell at Mennen... during work hours. Yup, we would sit in the stairwell, where the acoustics were good, and he would play his guitar and sing.... and then, wearing our lab coats, we would stroll out of the building and go out for breakfast (only on Fridays). It's really a wonder that we kept our jobs. He was also almost always late, and as I recall, we spent a lot of time planning and playing jokes on people... and going to the cafeteria. I loved that job!) Eventually, he moved to Florida and we lost touch until a couple of years ago when we found each other on Facebook. Turns out he is even more talented than I ever knew. He is also an artist. He was painting back when we worked together, but I guess I never knew that. After some twists and turns, life has turned out well for Jim and he is living in an old (very haunted) farmhouse in Virginia with someone he loves... and painting. Makes for an interesting life. I do hope to get down to see him sometime this summer.
Today I posted a photo with this quote: “It was a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They were filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that had ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years.
Wasn't it, after all, a kind of life?" ~Nora Roberts
... and Jim placed a link in the comments under my photo. His song.... his words.... are absolutely perfect. He has pretty much nailed the way I think about these old houses.
And here he is... sitting in a stairwell.... singing and playing, like old times, which made me smile.... about an old house... which touched my heart and made me cry. Give a listen www.youtube.com/watch?v=oX5WjjIu3BQ&feature=youtu.be
.... and then.... take one more look, before you close the door.
After I bumped into Princess Leia walking down the street, my wife and I headed to an art festival that was going on downtown. There were a lot of artists there that day who were making art on the sidewalk lining the park with chalk. Laura was one of those artists. Her work caught my eye first and then I noticed how awesome her tattoos were and I knew I had to take her portrait. I asked her if she would let me and she agreed I took only one shot and asked for her card because she was still in the middle of working on her piece and I didn't want to delay her any further. She went on to win 1st place for the people choice for the event!
I emailed her the next day to give her a copy of her photo and ask if she'd be willing to provide some info about herself to go along with my post and this was her response.
"I am 22 yrs old, I was born and raised in Northern California. Grew up in a family of talented artists. My family has taught me the importance of a good work ethic, determination and living passionately. I've been making art since a very young age. Having art shows and promoting myself since 16. I'm extremely passionate about art and I enjoy making people feel connected to my pieces. I really have my Family/friends to thank for supporting me as well as other artists I look up to. I like to use a couple different mediums such as, prisma color pencils, acrylic paint, pen and ink. I recently just started using chalk at the Chalk it up event at the Fremont Park, Sacramento where I was voted 1st for people's choice. I look forward to attending next year and meeting many more inspirational people."
If you are interested in checking out Laura's work she goes by "little_bow22" on Instagram.
El no-lugar no imprime característica alguna a quien lo transita, propiciando tan solo una ínfima relación personal. En definitiva, se trata de un lugar que carece de sentido. «Un no-lugar es un espacio intercambiable donde el ser humano permanece en el anonimato», explicaba Augé en 1992. No es lo mismo contemplar construcciones el Acueducto de Segovia, la Plaza de San Pedro, los canales de Venecia o la Torre Eiffel, que constituyen lugares únicos e intransferibles, con un McDonalds, cuya ubicación poco importa: son el mismo lugar (o no-lugar).
(fr) : La vie est une histoire racontée par un idiot, pleine de bruit et de fureur, mais qui ne signifie rien.
__________________________________________________
Outlining a Theory of General Creativity . .
. . on a 'Pataphysical projectory
Entropy ≥ Memory ● Creativity ²
__________________________________________________
Etude du jour:
La vie est une histoire racontée par un idiot, pleine de bruit et de fureur, mais qui ne signifie rien.
Life is a story told by an idiot, full of noise and emotional disturbance but devoid of meaning.
( William Shakespeare - Macbeth 5.5.26–28 )
__________________________________________________
rectO-persO | E ≥ m.C² | co~errAnce | TiLt
www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1Mkt81avak
Professor Lyra Everbane was born on a crisp February morning in 1999, in the enchanting wizarding village of Mould-on-the-Wold. The Everbane family, though not wealthy, was well-respected for their scholarly pursuits, particularly in magical folklore. Her mother, Moira, was a noted magical historian, while her father, Declan, was a wandmaker who specialized in rare woods. From an early age, Lyra was captivated by the legends her mother would recount by the hearth, tales of ancient heroes, magical beasts, and forgotten civilizations.
When she arrived at Hogwarts in 2010, Lyra was sorted into Hufflepuff, a choice that delighted her family. She embodied the house’s values of dedication, patience, and loyalty, often becoming the peacemaker among her classmates. Her warmth and kindness made her a favorite among her peers, while her determined work ethic ensured her success in her studies.
Lyra excelled particularly in History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology. She was captivated by how myths connected to magical creatures and the natural world. She spent much of her time in the Hogwarts greenhouses or on the grounds, seeking inspiration from nature and befriending the resident creatures. Her fascination with magical folklore deepened under the mentorship of Professor Sprout and later Professor Firenze, who encouraged her to view mythology as more than mere stories—tools of wisdom and prophecy.
After graduating in 2017, Lyra embarked on a journey across the wizarding world. She spent time with Veela in Eastern Europe, learned from centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and even gained the trust of the reclusive Merfolk communities in Greece. These experiences expanded her understanding of myth as a bridge between cultures and magical practices.
Her travels earned her respect in academic circles, but Lyra always remained grounded, refusing to let accolades overshadow her desire to teach. She returned to Hogwarts in 2029 to become the Professor of Mythological Studies, determined to pass on her knowledge to future generations.
As a professor, Lyra's Hufflepuff traits shone through. Her classroom became a haven for all students, a place where they felt valued and encouraged. She filled her lessons with interactive experiences, bringing myths to life with illusions, enchanted relics, and the occasional magical creature. Her ability to make every student feel seen and supported made her a beloved member of the Hogwarts staff.
While her sunny demeanor endeared her to many, Lyra carried an air of quiet mystery. Rumors swirled among students about the source of her knowledge of Thestrals, and some speculated that her compassion stemmed from personal loss. Despite this, she remained a constant source of hope and wisdom, always reminding her students that even the darkest myths often held lessons of resilience and light.
Today, Professor Everbane continues to inspire young witches and wizards, weaving together the wisdom of the past and the promise of the future in her teachings. Her loyalty to her students, her love of magical lore, and her steadfast determination ensure that her legacy will endure at Hogwarts for years to come.
The most exotic city of Cuba, lots of different ethic groups have settled themselves in this city.
The second biggest city, after Havana. Santiago de Cuba, a city full with history of the revolution, the fight against dictator Batista.
The Capital of Santiago de Cuba Province, which has one of the first seven settlements that the Europeans founded in Cuba early in the 16th century, is one of the most picturesque on the island.
The founding fathers made the most of its stunning setting a coastal terrace bordering and impressive purse-like bayand used the wood from the tall forest on the nearby mountain range to raise the first buildings of what would, for several years, be Cuba's first capital.
Nothing Az. Originally founded in 1977 population 4 people, abandoned in 2005. "The staunch citizens of Nothing are full of Hope, faith, and Believe in the work ethic. Thru-the-years these dedicated people had faith in Nothing, hoped fro Nothing, worked at Nothing, for Nothing."
There is a reason that someone somewhere coined the term eager beaver to define an enthusiastic work ethic. This beaver wrestles a freshly cut tree section under a log to take back to the den for winter feeding on the bark.
Grand Teton National Park
Up in the high valleys in Montana, some ranch lands lay hidden from the fly fishermen of the world testing their skills against the rainbow trout and brown trout on the Madison River. This stunning 20,000 acre ranch also has a stocked lake and miles and miles of endless views and happy horses. I joined my brother ,sister, nephew and his new bride to say farewell to a man who was family and a big influence in our lives. I hope the riding is even better where he is now. Life tried to break him down over and over and he fought back each and every time. A heart of an artist, the work ethic of a cowboy and the strength of a grizzly bear. He never told us how to live, he showed us with his dogged determination. RIP. Be free….
Most of you already know that in the first issue of our magazine we did an article on CLOWN the founder of T.I.T.S crew. When we put the issue together, we had a lot of east coast content and we wanted to do something on a west coast writer. CLOWN immediately came to mind. Everyone here at the mag referenced him as a major inspiration, especially since most of the staff was heavy into graff during the time period where CLOWN was out there pushing TITS crew really hard. I recently contacted CLOWN again to see if I could do an interview with him about the clothing line. It was at that point that I found out the real story behind the brand. TITS (the original graffiti crew) sent over this article and asked if I could post it up, so here you go.
Those Tits are Fake!
1995 was the year. The graffiti writer known as “Clown” was looking to draw some attention to his name. In a joking manner, the four letter word “Tits” was brought up. Bang! A light bulb popped into the heads of a few other fellow graffiti writers of the time and after a few months, “Tits Crew” was born. It took only a short time to form the crew which originally consisted of 10 members. Soon after, Tits Crew was a smooth running graffiti organization. At the time there weren’t many other groups who had four letter monikers to represent their crew, let alone four letters that even spelled out real words. This excited the new group of graffiti artists because they all had a common goal, destroy and this new name for their crew was going to grab attention. Original meanings for the acronym of the crew were brainstormed quickly. “Time is too short”, “Terror in the streets”, “Thunder in the sky” and “Clown’s original, “Two in the shirt”. It was genius.
Clown, the crew leader of Tits was a natural at his position. He was a motivator and a visionary. The Crew never just walked up to the wall and started painting. He instilled in the Crew to always approach the wall with a sense of perception, concealment and disguise. He had taken these eastern philosophies from literature he had studied and lived by such as The Art of War, Thunder in the Sky and The Book of 5 Rings. The crew would huddle up and pile into cars to find the best freeway spots California had to offer. It didn’t matter what city or town they were in, the tags, throw up’s and pieces were flowing at a high volume. Using these methods, Tits Crew had made themselves well known by 1996.
In 1997, Clown proposed the idea of traveling cross country and getting up in every state so that you could travel just about anywhere in the U.S. and see a piece of Tits Crew. Along with his fellow crew member and main partner in crime at the time, Clown and Kadie embarked on this adventure and got up in every state in the U.S. except for Alaska and Hawaii. After two months of night and day bombing and practically living out of a Greyhound Bus, they returned home feeling accomplished knowing that the goal had been fulfilled. Tits Crew was now known across the U.S. In 1998, crew members Clown, Mews, Paydirt and Diet were on to a new endeavor. This time, traveling to Europe to bomb and get the crew name out on a world wide scale. Tits crew was now setting up new branches in unfamiliar cities and drafting new painting partners from other crew’s as well as new members for their own crew. Tits Crew had already etched their mark in the underground graffiti scene. Kadie and Leson moved to San Francisco and Clown, Necro and Slie all moved northwest to Seattle, WA.
One member in particular from the Seattle days of Tits Crew seems to stand out in a major way. That would be “Mack”, also known as Marek Grubel. Marek was brought into Tits Crew in 1999 by Slie and became his painting partner and running mate. Marek’s entry into the crew was received with mixed reviews and emotions from members. Some were concerned that Marek’s loyalties were to himself, not the crew. They could not have been more right about this. In 2002, Marek quit doing graffiti . He had a baby on the way and was feeling like it was time to get things together. He had lost contact with all of the existing members of the crew and was flat out forgotten about. Marek’s short stint with Tits Crew was over. He was no longer considered a graffiti writer by many or any member of Tits Crew. Nobody heard anything about Marek until three years later. A member of Tits Crew caught a link that brought them to a website for a clothing company using the Tits Crew name to help launch it, as well as the trademark “Two in the Shirt.” Apparently, Marek had came up on some money and copyrighted the acronym “Tits” and the phrase “Two in the shirt”, in which he made into a clothing company. In other words, he stole the name of the crew and started to profit from it . Marek never had any contact, any arrangements or any approval from Clown or any other member of Tits Crew. It was all composed behind the backs of the guys who constructed this crew from the ground up. This was a man who spent countless hours, creating lifelong memories and building trust over a 2 and a half year period with this crew. And to now take a name that belonged to a group of men who worked years to bring it up and make it something, it was just unbelievable.
The point of this article is to expose the truth about Marek Grubel and his so called creation of the phrase “Two in the Shirt.” In a recent interview on www.senseslost.com he was interviewed saying that “Two in the Shirt” came about while “Drinking 40’s and eating macaroni salad from 7-11.” He went on to say that “It’s probably the expired mayo that sparked the think tank? I had no idea, I just know that I have a rare talent which is being able to be creative and also have a business ethic all in one brain.” The proof is there, the lies are ludicrous.
After 3 years of Marek pushing something that didn’t belong to him, Slie finally said screw it and put out a shirt with Marek. The only reason he did this is because he wanted to make sure the public knew that the real Tits members could drop conceptual clothing just as good if not better than Marek. Slie is dropping his own line soon with friend and partner Zack Stover called ‘Butter ‘N’ Bacon’.
This article was put together by members of Tits Crew to inform as many people as possible that Tits Crew is not supporting and will never be affiliated with Tits clothing. Every week, someone from Tits Crew get’s a call, text, email or has to engage in some conversation about Marek’s t-shirt Company. If you are supporting Tits Brand Clothing, know that you are not supporting Tits Crew and you have been misled.
Money and greed are notorious for the dissolution of relationships and bonds. They can easily turn friends into foes and make people do downright crazy things. Members of Tits Crew today are still active in the graffiti scene as well as moving forward in many ways of their own. We all wish Marek Grubel the best, it’s just a shame that without our consent he took something sacred to us and turned it into another clichéd, embarrassing porn t-shirt brand, with no creativity of his own.
I'm sandwiched between my Dad who rode to work everyday to save money and raise 7 kids and put them through school. He installed a calm yet efficient work ethic and believed so much in educating others that my brother left his basketball carreer overseas to teach highschool. Mr D is lucky to have the davenport bike lane at his footsteps. I am the first son, of a father who was also a first son, who now has his first grandson to carry on the genes.. A strong foundation to hold up these walls.
love you dad.
So, this is probably going to be a bit of a surprise for everyone. In a little more than a week, I am going to be heading out on a religious mission trip. I will be gone until December 2019.
During the two years that I will be gone, I will not have any access to social media, nor my parts. So this page will be completely dead during that time.
Sorry for those who look to me for inspiration, and thanks to everyone else for being an inspiration to me. I wish everyone the best while I'm gone.
Hopefully, I will return and continue my creative endeavors, as well as have a better work ethic.
I still have a few things to post before I leave, though.
stomper by my friends paebak and pear, along with crusher omye....love these guys' work ethic...had to repost
This Volvo has the older Bosnian style plates, issued until 2009. No region codes due to violence and abuse of different ethic groups in the country. I like to spot Bosnian vehicles, as they're quite rare here, even lorries.
c.1900km from home.
Old school cut & paste (scissors & glue) collage created for weekly themed blog:
The Kollage Kit
THEME: "Declutter" "Clean out"
NOTE: Long before being "green" was fashionable, Keep America Beautiful formed in 1953 when a group of corporate and civic leaders met in New York City to discuss a revolutionary idea — bringing the public and private sectors together to develop and promote a national cleanliness ethic.
Growing up as a little girl, I never understood why my dad could never get his hands totally clean and they were always cracked and rough. I'd sit and study them in wonderment and concern. Today I totally realize and appreciate the reason why, yet am still in wonder that to this day, he still is working so that others are taken care of. Thank you dad for imprinting that same work ethic, loyalty and yes, Polish stubbornness and fire in me. And the ability at end of day to be able to share a laugh, a good rant and stay up all night watching movies. I'm proud when I see how people love and enjoy you, nobody does so more than me. ❤️
Tropical Farms Hawai'i: Macadamia Farm
"Honor your Father and Mother"
Harry and Mary Lake dedicated their lives to the principles of Love and Service for all God's children, especially Native Hawaiians. They believed that tragedy and spiritual poverty could be overcome one day at a time by strength of character, and humble belief in a benevolent God. Their generosity, work ethic, profound sense of humor, and love of family were evident in every aspect of their lives. These statues stand as a symbol of Harry and Mary's core belief that through Christ, no failure need be final. We here at Tropical Farms Are the Children, Grandchildren, and Great-Grand Children of Harry and Mary Lake. We are honored to be their legacy.
"E ho omau ka holo moana"
Let us continue the voyage
Hand Carved by Mataiasi Taufa, under the direction of Master Carver Professor Viliami Tolutau, and Tuione Tuipalotu
Made using wood from the beautiful Monkey pod trees which surround us.
Elizabeth and I became friends at the park when we both had Corgi puppies, Connor and Jenna. At that time Elizabeth was a young adult, nanny and model. She went on to become a hair stylist and color expert, owning 2 salons and teaching color around the southwest. She now chooses to work alone, didn't like the sloppy work ethic of other stylists and didn't want "to be a frigging babysitter".
I love this energetic young woman; being with her is like getting a shot of adrenaline. She's fearless and loyal. When a pit bull tried to attack Jenna, Elizabeth threw herself down on top of the pit, much to the astonishment of both dog and owner. Attack ended!
I could tell more stories about this amazing young woman but you get the idea.
(Week 49 of personal challenge, "My Favorite Things.")
Ethics cannot be based upon our obligations toward [people], but they are complete and natural only when we feel this Reverence for Life and the desire to have compassion for and to help all creatures insofar as it is in our power. I think that this ethic will become more and more recognized because of its great naturalness and because it is the foundation of a true humanism toward which we must strive if our culture is to become truly ethical.
It started with a few good dates.
And then things went bad.
(And no... I'm not anti-men. And yes... I've known a whole lot of good ones. And yes... I've been the leaver far more often than the leave-ee in relationships. And yes... I've done my share of treating people badly. Sad, but true; it's all part of life. But today I want to tell this story for my Flickr friend azredheadedbrat. So please don't take offence or read too much into it. It's true, but it's for her. Okay?)
So... yeah. Things went bad.
I'm sure it was both our faults.
Me... like many young women... I had a stupid thing for "bad" boys. So when he started treating me badly, it only made me try harder to please him.
He was never violent. But he tortured me emotionally.
Our last date went like this:
It was a weeknight. Summertime. Very warm. I was already in bed, asleep, since I had to work early the next day.
He called. He wanted to see a late movie. And... (this is embarrassing but... yeah... life's like that) I (pathetically) jumped at the chance. Literally. Jumped.
I jumped out of bed. Got dressed. Tidied up. Combed my hair. Put on lipstick. Put on a dress. Drove for the better part of an hour to pick him up (since he was car-less... also jobless... but that's another story).
I picked him up and we drove downtown. Went to the movie HE wanted to see. (Something with explosions. Not my thing at all. The highlight for me was the cool sound made when a bottle rolled from the front of the theatre all the way to the back... churn rattle growl... after someone lay it on its side underneath their seat.)
All through the movie, I was fighting sleep. I've never been able to stay up late. And... as each minute ticked by... I was more and more aware of just how tired I was destined to be the next day at work.
When the movie finally ended, and I was driving him home.... yawning... barely keeping my eyelids up... I asked if I could spend the night at his place. It made sense. He lived just a few blocks from where I worked. And I lived a half hour's drive away. So... if I could stay with him... I could potentially squeeze in a whole extra hour of sleep.
Seemed like a decent thing to me. After all... it was him who'd kept me up late on a weeknight... seeing a movie he wanted to see... and I figured he'd be decent about it.
But he said no. He didn't want me at his place.
And that was the final straw.
I pulled over (we were still quite far from his place) and told him to get out. And then I just drove home.
All the way I raged in silence... working out exactly what I wanted to say to him. At home, I went straight to the phone... called him... and raged out my monologue. Which was to the effect that I never wanted to see him again.
I hung up. And went to bed. And... even though I was exhausted... I felt a lot better in the morning.
Of course he called the next day. And apologized. And of course I went for it.
Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.
Because he didn't want me back at all. He only wanted to be the one who ended it. And... as soon as I forgave him... he did.
That was it. End of relationship. I was horribly crushed. I mean... even though it was miserable, for some reason I clung to it... because he HAD been good to me in the beginning and some part of me persisted in believing that I could get that back.
At the time, I thought his dumping me was absolutely the worst thing I'd experienced. It took me a long long time to get over it.
But. It was in fact a gift. Because it cured my interest in "bad" guys.
Hallelujah and praise the stars for that.
Because... really... why on earth would any woman WANT a bad guy??? (No, don't answer that. It's totally rhetorical. And one of the universal mysteries of life. In my case, I think it may be linked to that dag-blatted Protestant work ethic thing. Like... anything that comes too easily CAN'T POSSIBLY be valuable, right? The harder you have to work for it, the better it must be, right?)
The lame-o moral to the story is that... even though I hated it... going through that breakup turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. If not for that, I'd probably still be miserably, pathetically dragging myself around after cruel, nasty, unavailable men.
So. Here's to growing older, and wiser. And learning from experience.
Az... hang in there. It's gonna be okay. Okay? There's a new day a-coming soon. I promise.
Biei Hokkaido vast snow fields broken by occasional trees creating simple but I think lovely compositions. A big thank you again to Rohan Reilly for his incredible work ethic and determination in finding then getting us to these wonderful locations
Happy Labor Day folks. Does anyone else find it ironic that we celebrate the American work ethic, workmanship and worker by not working today? In any case, enjoy relaxing on this day off. Background is a workshop I photographed a few years ago. Fort Worth, Texas, USA, May 2022
Best viewed large. All rights reserved
This is a full view of the setup in my garage for the cover shoot for the second edition of our parts catalog. That's me waiting to see if the photographer needs the bike moved, which is also why I am in my stocking feet so as not to mar the paper drape. I purchased two white paper background drapes and taped them together to get a wide enough "infinite" background for the bikes and models. After advertising in the local newspaper want ads we hired two women who were inexperienced models but eager to work with the local "chopper guys". You can see the calendar this session produced here www.flickr.com/photos/45519093@N00/127176550/in/set-72157... John Reddick, our product photographer for the first catalog was also half owner of the advertising agency which placed our magazine and newspaper ads. I had known him and his partner during my 4 years at the local newspaper where I worked as an artist in the retail display advertising department. John and Bill Smith leased space on the third floor of the newspaper where they provided services to both the editorial and advertising departments of the Stockton Record. I had worked with both men closely on many projects at the newspaper and it was a natural fit to turn to them when we needed to begin printing catalogs. In 1976, after I had closed my last motorcycle shop they offered me a job which I accepted. Even with my previous 9 years of advertising work, John mentored me in prepress imaging and halftone reproduction of photographs for offset lithography. He was a master craftsman with many years of trade knowledge, a patient teacher and the man who instilled in me the master/apprentice ethic. After he died several years ago, his daughter offered me his entire catalog of negatives. I accepted her gift and culled these images from his years of work for me and many other local businesses, politicians and community leaders. After removing all the negatives that pertained to my motorcycle shops I donated the remainder of the collection to the Bank of Stockton Photo Archives, a local 142 year old institution with a vast archive of historical images. Scanned from a 37 year old 35mm negative shot by John Reddick in September 1972.
Market, Alduba, Ethiopia, 30 Apr 2013.
Southern Ethiopia is a place of many indigenous ethic groups. The Bonna people are a big part of the market at Alduba, on the highway between Key Afer and Dimeka.
Ancoats, Greater Manchester. The Bee has historically become the symbol of the Manchester Work Ethic. This beautiful painting is/was exhibited free of charge, on a brick wall in Mason Street, Ancoats. Thank you BUBEK.
At chilly night, I'm waiting for you with a warm woollen hat and a stole.
AF-S Nikkor 50mm f1.4 with Nikon D750
November 4th, 2014
TITICACA ETHIC, Shibuya Ward, Tokyo, Japan
He's not afraid of hard work. He is a heavy equipment operator during the week where he operates a 20 tonne shovel and has a good work ethic. He'll help anyone.
I appreciate each and every visit, comment and fave here on my little corner of the world as seen through my lens.
My father passed away early this morning, as dawn was breaking upon the horizon. I was by his side as he reinquished his last breath and left this Earth. It is ironic that he should die so near to Christmas, because his father had died on Christmas day at an early age when my dad was a mere adolescent. After a hard night of restless struggling, the end came peacefully. His respirations became more shallow. He then made an expression as if pained by something. Then the expression turned to peace as he nodded his head, as if answering some cosmic question that only he could hear. And then, he was gone.
Earlier in the night, his last words had been " I love you, daddy"
I would like to say that my father was a paragon of parental love and wisdom, but he wasn't. I would also like to say that we had a strong father-son bond, but I can't. He wasn't like Ward Cleaver, Mike Brady, or any of those other television icons that made fatherhood appear like the noble calling that it should be.
His alcoholism and philandering didn't match up with his stern religiosity. In short, he was a man filled with contradictions. He was a diligent worker with a strong work ethic, but his money often went to support his mistresses-leaving mother to work harder to make up the difference.
But, despite his character flaws, I loved him. We all did. And I believe that, in his own odd way, he loved me too.
He was the quintessential likeable villain. He was a talented entertainer, public speaker, and pitch-man. He made his money as a salesman, and exceled at it.
He was a romantic dreamer. And just like most dreamers, he could sometimes be taken with dark moods and fits of rage. He was a troubled soul who never got over the injustice and poverty of his miserable childhood.
I want to remember my father with this old photo from October 1967, as a happy young man with a fast car and his whole life ahead of him.
I love you, dad, and I forgive you. And I hope to see you again one day in a better place.