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fyi:
The lunar influence on human behavior has been termed 'The Lunar Effect' or 'The Transylvania Effect'. The influence of the full moon remains one of the most common explanations for a wide range of bizarre events from deaths to violence in a psychiatric setting.
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night wish images (x2) blened and manipulated btw pixlr and gimp
Mass Effect: Andromeda
Hattiwatti's cinematic tools; hotsampling via SRWE (~76MP); bicubic smother resampling; reshade 4.0.2
My grandfather's clock looking something like a roulette wheel. (Escher effect from the Pixel Bender Droste filter)
"I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all." Ecclesiastes 9:11
Shot in the Upper Antelope Canyon, AZ
During the monsoons, rainwater washes down from the basin above these canyons picking up speed and sand. Over millions of years these flash floods have eroded the hard Navajo sandstone and left behind these beautiful, smooth wavy lines.
People can't help but stop in their stride and gaze upwards at the wonder that is Antelope Canyon. The twig above the lady's head was washed into the canyon during the last flash flood.
The above pic hardly does justice to the place (and the fact that my camera boosted the ISO to 3200 doesn't help either). Hopefully my tripod stabilized long exposures will turn out better...
Press L to view large and Press F to fav :)
Park Place at the corner of Burrard and Dunsmuir Streets in Vancouver, Canada. The first of three painterly renditions.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR VIEWS, COMMENTS, FAVES AND INVITES.
Spamming on the with the shots while I progress further through the game.
[i]ENB - Return to Darkness, AA8x, 4K textures, Custom Fov, Timestop, Freecam.[/i]
The reason for the existence of Sugar Mill Gardens is complex. It is first and foremost, an historic site, where the ruins of the old sugar mill from the former Dunlawton Plantation stand. There is little to be endeared with in that, as it was once a place of slavery and drudgery, greed and a lifestyle built on the backs of others. By the same token, it was a necessary part of life and trade back in the day.
Slaves at one point joined forces with the Seminole Indians during a war between the Indians and settlers. After the second one, the Indians succeeded in burning the mill down. What is left is a shell and remnants of that attack, and a reminder to people that injustice doesn't go unpunished, and labor should be fair and paid for.
During the Civil War, troops from the Confederate army camped in the very spot you're looking at. Their leisure was short lived, and after the war, so was their way of life.
Fast forward about 80 years. The once vast Dunlawton Plantation would be only a memory, but making a profit off this land was still very much in the forefront. As Central Florida's tourism grew, small theme parks depicting the beauty of Florida began to emerge everywhere. Northerners came to see the alligator farm in St. Augustine, and the beach of Daytona was being used as a race track during the early years of NASCAR. Even the old plantation, now reduced to a mere 12 acres, was reinvented as Bongoland, named for Bongo, a baboon that was the caged mascot of the place. (Why a baboon is beyond me, as they are certainly not native to Florida!) Anyway, during this time, people would come and take a tram ride through the park, where some 25 large concrete sculptures of dinosaurs loomed large over the grounds. The ruins were still, there, and people would carve their initials into the coquina to mark their passage through the park and also the anals of time. Children (and adults) would unthinkingly climb on the dinosaurs to take snapshots of their adventures in the Sunshine State.
Bongoland was a fleeting thought in the history of this place, lasting only about four years. Larger and more interesting and more profitable places were springing up all over Florida, drawing attention away from tiny, Bongoland. No one has ever mentioned what happened to poor Bongo. He was probably another victim of the greed that caged him, probably sent to a zoo or something.
Years later, the land was given to the county, and the place was deemed historic, and therefore, worthy of a little maintenance and upkeep. Volunteer gardeners created much of what you see now, and the county, almost too late, began to protect the historic ruins, and the 5 remaining sculptures that hadn't been ravaged to their destruction. Donations are accepted, but no fee is charged to enter.
When I began to come here regularly, a cat named Tigger lived here. Tigger had lived on the premises for many years. His family had left him for the volunteers to take care of, and fortunately, there were those who loved him and fed him. When I met Tigger, I knew he needed more, and began seeing that he got it, taking donations myself from people here on Flickr, from vet care to more food, to flea prevention, but what Tigger really needed was a home. I had to fight for that a little, but I won him, and for the next four years, Tigger was my cat.
There were times when I'd see Tigger looking out the window at the bright, full moon, and I know he was remembering this place, and being the little ruler of it. He'd look at the moon, almost with longing, until I'd open a can of food and he realized he liked it much better without the hundreds of mosquito bites and fights with other cats, and going hungry because a raccoon stole his food and slopped up his water by washing the kibble in it!
Tigger passed away Christmas Eve of 2012, and it's still a little hard for me to go to this place. It's not the same without him there. So I take lots of photos and visit again in a year or two. It is both happy and sad for me to be here, but it's beauty and story, right down to a baboon and a little cat, need to be shared, so I go, and I tell it. Perhaps knowing a bit about Sugar Mill Gardens and the cause and effect of the place will make these photos feel just a little more alive and meaningful to you, too.
21 Years of Begins Here
Pier Band Room, Frankston
Australia
supports:
Hands Like Houses
Shot for: Live at Your Local
original Ten has been bodyswapped and modded to be taller... perhaps exaggeratedly so, but that's the way i tend to visualise DT. new Ten is not modded at all... yet.
S!M is very confused...
ETA: this comic was definitely in the back of my mind:
The Butterfly Effect is simply:
If a butterfly flaps its wings in China, would it have an effect on the weather patterns in London? The obvious answer is no. But since every action has an effect on other probabilities... The result is infinite.
Seen @ Utrecht Botanic Gardens, Holland.
This is a repeat of the Determination photo to illustrate the use of the fog-1 texture I made available. This version has fog-1 applied with screen, as well as the texture "Sandstorm II". I also added a linear gradient from white to black, blended with screen to add a more even fog mixture. Enjoy.
Ironisk nok har det denne uken vært helt vindstille og 20 varmegrader(!), og mine ideer til tema VIND ble umulig å gjennomføre.
Da jeg på fredag plutselig oppdaget en liten sommerfugl liggende helt stille på gulvet mitt i stuen, mens jeg selv svettet som om det var sommer, begynte tankene å surre rundt teoriene om "butterfly effect og chaos theory". Så det må derfor bli min tolkning av ukens tema
Svart hvitt variant: www.flickr.com/photos/62098348@N02/7013433305/
Happy T-Day everyone! May you find yourselves at a welcoming table and with plenty to eat...
© Cynthia E. Wood
www.cynthiawoodphoto.com | FoundFolios | facebook | Blurb | Instagram
All images and textures are my own.
Photoshop CS4
Created for Award Tree "Art Tools and Materials Challenge"
(rejected)
Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky 1938 – 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. 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, 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. "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.
Owen loves when I close my eyes in the shower. He says it makes him believe I am at peace with myself.
Taken with Pentax K30 using the in camera toy lens effect filter . photo taken at Blyth Northumberland