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The Torre del Mangia is a tower in Siena, in the Tuscany region of Italy. Built in 1338-1348, it is located in the Piazza del Campo, Siena's main square, next to the Palazzo Pubblico (Town Hall). When built it was one of the tallest secular towers in medieval Italy. At 102 m it is second tallest after Cremona's Torrazzo (112 m (367 ft)), the Asinelli tower in Bologna at 97 m being It emulates Islamic architecture with its square minaret design, pointed arches and striking height. The tower was built to be exactly the same height as Siena Cathedral as a sign that the church and the state had equal power.
The name refers to its first bellringer, Giovanni di Balduccio, nicknamed Mangiaguadagni (‘Profit eater’) either for his spendthrift tendency, idleness or gluttony.
The tower has visually distinct levels, from the top:
a short pale-gray upper loggia
a marble (uppermost) structure.
a stone section that flares out slightly
a long red brick shaft
A marble loggia at the base of the tower where it meets the Piazza del Campo, known as the Cappella di Piazza, was added in 1352 to fulfil a vow to the Holy Virgin by Sienese survivors of the Black Death. The corner pilasters attained their current form in 1378, the sculptures decorating them being executed in 1378-1382 by Mariano d'Angelo Romanelli e Bartolomeo di Tommé. The simple wooden ceiling once covering the loggia was replaced by the current Renaissance marble vault in 1461-1468 by Antonio Federighi, also responsible for the bizarre decorations of the coronation. In 1537-1539 Il Sodoma painted a fresco above the altar, now housed in the town museum in the Palazzo Pubblico.
The upper-middle part in stone was built by Agostino di Giovanni to the design of one Mastro Lippo pittore, probably identifiable with Lippo Memmi. It consists of a parapet resting on corbels. The pronounced petal-like arches between the corbels have led writers to describe the structure as a tulip or lily.
The clock on the lower part of the shaft was added in 1360. There are three bells, the largest one is called the "Sunto" - an abbreviation of assunto, a reference to the assumption of the Virgin. The bell plays a notable role in the celebrations of the Palio.
The walls of the tower are approximately 3 m (9.8 ft) thick on each side.
"A sparrow falls by providence, and the evening sky
is smeared indigo. I won’t repeat our darling word
dusk, since breaking old habits is a new promise.
Sometimes the heart locks, before it dangles, ready
for releasing. Something in the amorphous shape
the trees espouse at this time of day is a resistance
to anything particular or complex, as if a more subtle
variation were possible. A toning down of contrast
makes the hour we named for us a kind of yielding.
‘We are something’, you say, and I try to believe.
But even as I write, the sky’s streaks fade, the burls
of cloud formations begin to disappear, obeying
Newton’s third law that for every act in this universe
there is an equal and opposite one. Today I walked
the streets, observing what I’ve missed of late—
a white magnolia in full bloom with delicately scented
petals, chaste as Ophelia, among the topiary plants;
a house in ruins becoming some ugly new development.
And, of course, I thought of us—that hole we cut
in the stillness of evening, when the heart is disposed
to abandon the thought of never wanting this to stop.
The heart is mute but cries out in protest: Be free,
what are you afraid of? Advice I tested last night
at the Opera Bar. I kissed the princely lips of madness:
Hamlet himself, after the proscenium. Not yet drunk.
His eyes, untamed, a little lost, perhaps. I trembled
but he didn’t seem to mind, and I was glad, recalling
a soliloquy which speaks of fate’s occasion being fickle,
how the end is ever present, how the readiness is all.
The harbour slapped softly, in Luna Park the Ferris wheel
turned. At least every so often, it is good to tremble.
And somehow the moment cured me of the incomplete
metaphor of madness I had taken for myself. So moments
change us, the evening bleeds and bruises. Words come
to me as freely as a sparrow falls, unfastened by the sky."
© 2010, Michelle Cahill
What weighs more?
In one hand still unopened and unread book of world's history, in the other hand a random bunch of beautiful and informative books.They speak of secret societies, dream psychology and therapy, a short history of the world, a world atlas, huge dictionary and a something more.
There could have been also books of religions, medicine, something of biology and technology mythology and space and other million themes, but it is not physically possible.
The idea is clear I guess.
This is for 118 pictures in 2018, #13, "Equal". It is two 1/2 teaspoon scoops of spices - ground cumin on top and ground cayenne on the bottom. Two of my favorite spices.
Plushie and I got cute and ran some errands which included a quick stop at Bephora ....
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6tMJBkZ41A
More details soon <3
All of the pictures are © copyright by P1ay "All rights are reserved" worldwide. Please do not use, copy or edit any of my photographs. However please feel free to contact with me if you are interested in using any of my images.
Can you imagine a world were we did not look at the colour of someone skin or their religion and looked at them as equals. Why do we have to imagine?????
All of the pictures are © copyright by P1ay "All rights are reserved" worldwide. Please do not use, copy or edit any of my photographs. However please feel free to contact with me if you are interested in using any of my images.
My most horrible post ever!
Being stuck at work I couldn't find the time to shoot anything outside this horrible take in the restaurant last night, between the starter and main course.
Holidays urgently needed...
Captrain Portugal, formerly known as Takargo, hauls a number of freight trains in Portugal. They are for example the main operator in the harbour of Porto. In the aternoon a number of container trains leave the harbour, heading for an equal number of destinations. It's about 16:00 hours when Captrain 6005 finally leaves Porto-Campanha station, heading for Alcântara-Terra station in Lisbon (Lisboa). About 15 minutes later the train passes alongside the atlantic ocean, heading south as it passed me on a short weekend trip to get some warmer weather.
Today is Autumnal Equinox...when the Sun is exactly above the Equator, when the backyard squirrel is perfectly balanced, and when day and night are of equal length.
my portrait of m.i.a. for the upcoming show 'world on fire', opening february 2nd in LA, in conjuction with the grammys.
more info on the show here
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"Now is the time to make justice a reality for all God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment." -- MLK
Words as relevant today as they were over 52 years ago.
I wonder what Dr. King would think about the state of our country these days?. We have made so many advances as a society, but when it comes to equality for ALL, we are still struggling.
Let's keep striving to wipe out prejudice and hate in our hearts and learn to be tolerant and accepting of everyone.
Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!
(a mural in Philadelphia)
Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is Strength.
Arnold Schwarzengger
Wickham Place is the London home of Lord and Lady Southgate, their children and staff. Located in fashionable Belgravia it is a fine Georgian terrace house.
Vera, the current Lady Southgate dislikes her mother-in-law because she has the annoying habit of not retiring to a quiet life in the Dower House on the Buckinghamshire estate, preferring instead to spend a great deal of time in London during the Season, using Wickham Place as her base. And why should the Dowager retreat when she was a famed as a beauty not so long ago, and still is very beautiful, intelligent and vibrant? Doors to salons and soirees open to her in preference to her ‘Dollar Princess’ daughter-in-law. The Dowager dislikes her daughter-in-law in equal measure as she is disliked by her. The Dowager despises her American vulgarity, lack of taste and tact and has never forgiven her for stealing away her eldest son, even though the Southgate estate required an eligible American heiress or else sell an old master or two, thanks to the late Lord Southgate’s gambling and poor head for investments and the Dowager’s frivolous spending.
The Dowager, through careful Machiavellian emotional manipulation of her eldest son, has ensured that even though she has been displaced by the ‘Dollar Princess’ as mistress of Wickham Place, she still has a splendid suite on the second floor, always at the ready for her arrival. Tonight, the Dowager is in residence and in her drawing room, where he awaits her son, who must pass her open salon door on his way to the library.
“Richard! Richard, is that you?” the Dowager calls sweetly as she senses someone in the hallway outside her door.
“Mother, you aren’t out this evening?” Richard replies, popping his head through the door, book in hand on his way to the library, just as the Dowager suspected.
“No Richard, not tonight. I couldn’t bear to go to Evelyn’s supper party, especially since I’ve been in London for nearly two weeks and barely seen you.”
“I’ve been here, Mother.”
“I know darling, but I’ve been so frightfully busy catching up with everyone. You know how much I like to be amid the pleasures of the season. You really should have come with me to the Royal Academy. There were some marvellous paintings this year!”
Eying his mother’s table set before the fire Richard remarks, “Backgammon, Mother?”
“Yes darling, I thought you might care to play a game with me since I’m home this evening. I know how much you love backgammon. Remember how we used to play backgammon together when you were young?”
“I seem to recall that you always won.”
“Well,” the Dowager’s eyes narrow. “I did win a few times, but I don’t think I always won, darling.”
“Well, I was just going to the library to return a book and then Vera and I…”
“Oh Vera!” the Dowager scoffs with a wave of her elegantly bejewelled hand. “You can see Vera any day of the week, whereas I am here now.”
“And I see that you’re prepared with a bottle from my cellar.”
“One of you father’s bottles: Romanée Saint Vivant 1885.”
“Well… maybe just one game, Mother.”
The Dowager’s eyes light up as she indicates to the empty Chippendale chair at the Queen Anne table.
“But only if I can smoke, Mother. This is my house now, and I can smoke wherever I like.”
“Of course Richard,” the Dowager smiles at her son’s petulant outburst. “Wickham Place is yours now, and you may do as you please. I’ll ring for Withers and have him bring an ashtray, and some chocolates. I always remember we’d eat chocolates whilst we play.”
With a silver ashtray and a glass bowl of chocolates provided by Withers the Butler, mother and son settle down to play a friendly game of backgammon.
“So,” Richard asks as he opens the bottle of burgundy and pours wine into the Dowager’s glass. “What is it you want, Mother? You may get the better of me more often than I’d care to admit to, but even I, with my dim wits, can see through this subterfuge.”
“Richard!” she gasps. “You wound me!”
“No-one wounds you, Mother, except maybe when they tighten your reticule.”
“How vulgar! I didn’t raise you to talk about money, Richard. I see that my daughter-in-law’s frank conversation skills are rubbing off on you.” Richard glares at her, and she stands rebuked, so with a more gentle voice the Dowager continues, “However, since you mention it, I would like to talk about my pitiful allowance. I can’t manage the Season on such a paltry amount.”
This year the FFF+ Group have decided to have a weekly challenge called “Snap Happy”. A different theme chosen by a member of the group each week, and the image is to be posted on the Monday of the week.
This week the theme, “games” was chosen by David, DaveSPN.
What better game to play than backgammon amid the elegance of the Dowager’s drawing room. However this upper-class domestic scene is different, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures, some of which come from my own childhood.
Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:
The backgammon set I made myself from a beautifully appointed kit. The buff coloured felt around the outside of the box is so soft.
The Queen Anne lamp table that the game is set on I was given on my seventh birthday, and it is one of my oldest miniatures in the collection.
The two Chippendale chairs are from a larger artisan carved dining room suite that I bought a few years ago from a miniature specialist in America who acquired it from a miniatures museum that was closing. Some of the chairs have stickers on the underside of their seat cushions indicating that they come from the ‘white room’.
The dice are actually a pair of wooden miniature Georgian gambling dice (inherited from my Grandmother, passed down through the generations).
The red and white marbled bowl containing miniature chocolates is actually a 1920s glass bugle bead.
The two glasses and the bottle of burgundy are 1:12 miniature artisan pieces which are made from real glass. The label is a genuine facsimile of its real size equivalent.
The ashtray is also an artisan piece, made of cut clear crystals set in a silver metal frame. The tray has black ash in it, and even came with its own 1:12 cigarette which rests on the lip, just where Richard put it before he started playing backgammon with his cunning Mother.
The book is also an artisan piece with printed words on each page and bound in buff coloured leather.