View allAll Photos Tagged existential
"I call a lie: wanting not to see something one does see, wanting not to see something as one sees it... The most common lie is the lie one tells to oneself; lying to other is relatively the exception."
~ Friedrich Nietzsche, 1894/1990, The Anti-Christ (R. J. Hollingdale, Trans.), p. 185
Granny finds herself in the middle of mayhem at the behest of We’re Here! and The Three Stooges Existential Balloon Factory.
Spooks, 1953, Columbia Pictures.
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clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
Qi Bo's photos on Flickr Hive Mind
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
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This year I asked myself, like so many Sicilian and non-Sicilian photographers, where to go to take pictures for Good Friday, to discover one of the many popular traditions scattered throughout Sicily, in fact Easter in Sicily is a cathartic moment for those in search of traditional popular events, to be able to tell with words and above all (for those like me) with photographs, a research that may appear not without contradictions, for example for that great Sicilian thinker who was Leonardo Sciascia, for he Sicily cannot be called Christian, which he defined the Sicilian festivals, at best it is only in appearance, in those properly pagan explosions, tolerated by the Church; Sciascia deals with the topic as an introductory essay in the book "Religious feasts in Sicily" (a volume that is still found on flea markets at ever higher prices), illustrated with photographs of a young and still unknown Ferdinando Scianna (in the first edition they made a mistake also his name, Fernando Scianna can be read on the cover), a book that did not fail to raise some controversy precisely because of the introductory note of the Sicilian thinker, appearing in open controversy with the sacredness of that popular devotion (so much so that the book was the subject of a criticized by the newspaper of the Holy See, The Roman Observer), Sciascia writes “What is a religious feast in Sicily? It would be easy to answer that it's anything but a religious holiday. It is, above all, an existential explosion; the explosion of the collective id, where the collectivity exists only at the level of the id. Because it is only in celebration that the Sicilian emerges from his condition as a lonely man, which is after all the condition of his vigilant and painful superego, to find himself part of a class, a class, a city ”. Going back over the thought of Gesualdo Bufalino, Sicilian writer and poet, we find interesting indications on the meaning that the Sicilians give to these traditional popular events, he says "during Easter every Sicilian feels not only a spectator, but an actor, before sorrowful and then exultant, for a Mystery which is its very existence. The time of the event is that of Spring, the season of metamorphosis, just as metamorphic is the very nature of the ritual in which, as in a story from the “Opera dei Pupi” (Puppets work), the fight of Good against Evil is fought. The Deception, the Pain and the Triumph, the Passion, the Death and the Resurrection of Christ are present”.
In short, Easter in Sicily is a recurrence deeply felt throughout the island since ancient times, it has always had the moving participation of the people as its fulcrum, with representations and processions that have become rites and traditions that unequivocally characterize many Sicilian towns, which recall the most salient moments narrated in the Gospels and which recall the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, with processions formed by the various brotherhoods (sometimes with theatrical re-enactments) which have in themselves contents and symbols often coming from the Spanish domination, which in Sicily between the 16th and 17th centuries.
Returning to my question, expressed at the beginning, I had several suggestions from friends and acquaintances, among these a nurse friend of mine, originally from Leonforte, Vincenzo, managed to tickle my interest in a particular way, hence the photographic story that I present, made this year, is that of the Good Friday procession of Leonforte.
The procession begins in the late morning, which proceeds from the Oratory to the Mother Church, through the Piazzale Matrice, during the short journey the Stations of the Cross are meditated on; the procession that advances towards the Cathedral (which will represent Golgotha, because it is there that the Crucifixion of Christ will take place) is started by a large Cross, behind it proceed two long lines of sisters and brothers, there are those who carry cushions with nails, the crown of thorns, and the sheet of the deposition with a "Red Rose" on it; then we find Christ with an uncovered face supported by five brothers, followed by the Virgin of Sorrows, carried on the shoulders of the confraternity of the same name. At noon, inside the Mother Church, once in front of the Cross, the statue with jointed arms is "crucified". When dusk comes everything is ready for the procession, which starts from the Mother Church with the rite of the deposition of Christ down from the Cross, which is taken care of by the priests; the procession winds along an estimated route of just over 7 km, involving the 13 churches of Leonforte (thirteen as there are stations of the “Way of the Cross”), a procession called "'U Mulimentu", a term that indicates the sepulcher which it guarded for three days the body of Christ before his Resurrection (The procession of the “'U Mulimentu” can be dated around 1650). This itinerary also includes the lighting of a huge bonfire placed in the square in front of the " Great Fountain of Leonforte" (built on the remains of an ancient Arab fountain), from whose 24 spouts water does not come out only on Good Friday, as a sign of mourning the death of Christ.
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Quest’anno mi ponevo la domanda, come tanti fotografi, siciliani e non, dove recarmi a realizzare fotografie per il Venerdì Santo, alla scoperta di una delle tantissime tradizioni popolari sparse in tutta la Sicilia, la Pasqua infatti in Sicilia, è un momento catartico per chi è alla ricerca di eventi popolari tradizionali, da poter così raccontare con parole e soprattutto (per chi come me) con fotografie, una ricerca che può apparire non priva di contraddizioni, ad esempio per quel grande pensatore Siciliano che fu Leonardo Sciascia, per lui la Sicilia non può dirsi cristiana, che definiva le feste Siciliane, al massimo lo è solo in apparenza, in quelle esplosioni propriamente pagane, tollerate dalla Chiesa; Sciascia affronta l’argomento come saggio introduttivo nel libro “Feste religiose in Sicilia” (volume che si trova ancore sui mercatini dell’usato a prezzi sempre più alti), illustrato con fotografie di un giovane ed ancora sconosciuto Ferdinando Scianna (nella prima edizione sbagliarono anche il suo nome, sulla copertina si legge Fernando Scianna), libro che non mancò di sollevare qualche polemica proprio per la nota introduttiva del pensatore Siciliano, apparendo in aperta polemica con la sacralità di quella devozione popolare (tanto che il libro fu oggetto di una stroncatura da parte del quotidiano della Santa Sede, l’Osservatore Romano), Sciascia scrive “Che cos’ è una festa religiosa in Sicilia? Sarebbe facile rispondere che è tutto, tranne che una festa religiosa. E’, innanzi tutto, un’esplosione esistenziale; l’esplosione dell’es collettivo, dove la collettività esiste soltanto a livello dell’es. Poiché e soltanto nella festa che il siciliano esce dalla sua condizione di uomo solo, che è poi la condizione del suo vigile e doloroso super io, per ritrovarsi parte di un ceto, di una classe, di una città ”. Andando a ripercorrere il pensiero di Gesualdo Bufalino, scrittore e poeta Siciliano, si trovano indicazioni interessanti sul senso che i Siciliano danno a questi eventi popolari tradizionali, egli dice “durante la Pasqua ogni siciliano si sente non solo uno spettatore, ma un attore, prima dolente e poi esultante, per un Mistero che è la sua stessa esistenza. Il tempo dell’evento è quello della Primavera, la stagione della metamorfosi, così come metamorfica è la natura stessa del rito nel quale, come in un racconto dell’Opera dei Pupi, si combatte la lotta del Bene contro il Male. Sono presenti l’Inganno, il Dolore e il Trionfo, la Passione, la Morte e la Resurrezione di Cristo”.
In breve, la Pasqua in Sicilia è una ricorrenza profondamente sentita in tutta l’isola fin dall’antichità, essa ha sempre avuto come fulcro la commossa partecipazione del popolo, con rappresentazioni e processioni divenuti riti e tradizioni che caratterizzano inequivocabilmente numerosissimi centri Siciliani, che rievocano i momenti più salienti narrati nei Vangeli e che ricordano la Passione, la Morte e la Resurrezione di Gesù Cristo, con cortei formati dalle varie confraternite (a volte con rievocazioni teatrali) che hanno in se contenuti e simbologie spesso provenienti dalla dominazione Spagnola, avvenuta in Sicilia tra il XVI ed il XVII secolo.
Ritornando alla mia domanda, espressa all’inizio, ho avuto diversi suggerimenti da parte di amici e conoscenti, tra queste un mio amico infermiere, originario di Leonforte, Vincenzo, è riuscito a solleticare il mio interesse in particolar modo, da qui il racconto fotografico che presento, realizzato quest’anno, è quello della processione del Venerdì Santo di Leonforte.
La processione inizia in tarda mattinata, che procede dall’Oratorio fino alla Chiesa Madre,attraverso il piazzale Matrice, durante il breve tragitto vengono meditate le stazioni della Via Crucis; ad inziare la processione che avanza verso il Duomo (che rappresenterà il Golgota, perché è li dentro che avverrà la Crocifissione del Cristo) è una grande Croce, dietro procedono due lunghe file di consorelle e confrati, ci sono coloro che portano i cuscini con i chiodi, la corona di spine, ed il lenzuolo della deposizione con sopra una “Rosa Rossa”; poi troviamo il Cristo a volto scoperto sorretto da cinque confrati, segue la Vergine Addolorata, portata in spalla dall’omonima confraternita. A mezzogiorno, dentro la Chiesa Madre, giunti dinnanzi alla Croce, la statua con le braccia snodabili viene “crocifissa”. Quando sopraggiunge l’imbrunire tutto è pronto per la processione, che inizia dalla Chiesa Madre col rito della deposizione del Cristo giù dalla Croce, della quale se ne occupano i sacerdoti; la processione si snoda lungo un percorso stimato in poco più di 7 Km, interessando le 13 chiese di Leonforte (tredici quante sono le stazioni della Via Crucis), processione chiamata “’U Mulimentu”, termine che indica il sepolcro che custodì per tre giorni il corpo del Cristo prima della sua Resurrezione (La processione del “’U Mulimentu” è databile intorno al 1650). Questo percorso prevede anche l’accensione di un enorme falò posto sul piazzale antistante la “Gran Fonte di Leonforte” (costruita sui resti di una antica fontana araba), dalle cui 24 cannelle non esce acqua solo il giorno del Venerdì Santo, in segno di lutto per la morte del Cristo.
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Processione del Venerdì Santo a Leonforte (2023)
Venerdì Santo mattina (crocifissione)
Leonforte - Venerdì Santo 2012.wmv
Venerdì Santo - Leonforte (Enna)
venerdì santo 2022 rientro chiesa madre Leonforte
Traslazione Urna Gesù morto dalla matrice all'oratorio (Leonforte)
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Il Nome della Rosa (film 1986) TRAILER ITALIANO
Il nome della rosa (FILM 1986) TRAILER ITALIANO 2
IL NOME DELLA ROSA - IL MISTERO DELLA BIBLIOTECA
IL Nome della Rosa - Confessione di Frate Remigio
Era - In Fine - Nel nome della rosa - TelediscoArteVideo
Il Nome della rosa - Scena finale
Intervista a Umberto Eco sulla sua vittoria al Premio Strega 1981
Umberto Eco ''Odio 'Il nome della rosa', è il mio peggior romanzo''
The Name of the Rose Official Trailer #1 - Sean Connery Movie (1986) HD
The name of the rose - Did Christ laugh
The Name Of The Rose, Confession Remigio
Umberto Eco: Signs and Secrets | Introduction to The Name of the Rose's writer
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For this photo I was inspired by the following two quotes about the existentialism by Friedrich Nietzsche and Albert Camus:
"It is a folly to pretend intelligence when standing before the abyss, for the abyss neither notices nor cares, and all that remains is the echo of our own vanity. „
"To insist on being realistic in a world governed by uncertainty is itself an act of absurdity, for the only certainty is that nothing is ever truly certain."
In this photo I wanted to depict the essence of absurdity and existential uncertainty along with profound emptiness and meaninglessness of existence. The empty, worn-out chair—repaired countless times—stands as a meeting point between absence and presence. It occupies a space once filled with purpose. Its shadow reflects its form but distorts it thus reflecting the distortions in our perception, questioning the validity of what we think we know, representing the struggle to find meaning in the midst of absurdity.
Using a new build I originally designed for Matorans, I created some characters that exist within my own fictional universe. :-)
Characters from left to right are;
Kuric
Unoffically the leader of the Oratokans. Extremely cunning, Kuric is not liked by many, but is needed by all. He bears more weight on his shoulders than any other Oratokan.
Tokk
The mechanic who puts together new Oratokans. He is insular and odd. Tokk is unstable, known to have existential crises and dodge work for weeks at a time.
Hawke
Braving the island's wastelands, Hawke is tasked with locating Oratokan pieces and bringing them back to Tokk. Friendly, reasurring, and loved by all.
Rhain
Rhain created the job of colour therapist. She works with the Oratokans to find the colours that put each one at ease, and paints them using her airbrush.
ADR1FT
- Freecam CE table and 3DMigoto HUD Toggle by One3rd
- Reshade 3.0.6 (SMAA, color adjustment via Ioxa Color Filter)
- SRWE for 1:1 AR & hotsampling
- MSI Afterburner
- Faststone (Lanczos 2)
- Pseudo-existential mood :v
The abandoned coast guard station at Whiskey Island at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River, Cleveland, OH. Look large if you like
Mamiya 645e, 55-110, exposure unrecorded at F11 on Portra 160.
Yup - got a new (to me) body and an honest to got medium format zoom lens, which is cheaper and lighter than getting a 55, 80, and a 100. The 645e is made of plastic and is lighter, which partly offsets the weight of the lens.
My Nikon Coolscan arrives today and ... it got damaged in shipping :-(. So ... it's going back, sadly, as I got it at a good price. (I suspect the place that packed it dropped it, as the broken piece, off the front panel, wasn't inside the box) Later Note: Nope: tilting the scanner reveals the sound of something small rattling around inside ... probably the broken off piece.
eBay is very buyer-centric, which sucks if you're a seller, which I am not, in this case.
Is this God's way of telling me to get an Epson V850?
Oh, and halfway through scanning this roll my Epson V600 died. As in the power light went out and won't come back on.
I'm having an existential crisis. Maybe Ralph will let me borrow his again, for awhile.
On the plus side, I learned that shooting the film with compressed air gets rid of lots of dust. Man ... I shoulda done that YEARS ago - always did in the analogue darkroom days.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAXg78MKJcM
Do you wanna start a cult with me?
I’m not vibrating like I oughta be
I need a purpose, I can't keep surfing
Through this existential misery
Now, we are going to need some real estate
But if I choose my words carefully
Think I could fool you that I’m the guru
Wait, how do you spell epiphany?
Before the truth will set you free
It’ll piss you off
Before you find a place to be
You’re gonna lose the plot
Too late to tell you now
One ear and right out the other one
Because all you ever do is chant the same old mantra
Could I have your attention please
It’s time to tap in to your tragedy
Think you could use a new abuser
Close your eyes and listen carefully
Imagine you're stood on a beach
Water gently lapping at your feet
But now your sinking
What were you thinking?
That’s all the time we have this week
iPhoneography on iPhone 7 Plus.
This and the two to the right all featured together on "in explore" this morning; March 22, 2019.
The latest blog. Full of existential musings, scattered photos, and skill-testing questions. Plus LARPing and jokes!
mikeambach.substack.com/p/staying-on-the-ship
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Sometimes the water seems wide, impossibly so, stretching out like an endless mirror reflecting a surreal dreamscape where the horizon blurs and bends, where the water seems to hold the secrets of the universe in its glassy depths.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.
corporate poetry (noun)
/ˈkɔːrp(ə)rət ˈpoʊɪtri/
1. The art of transforming ordinary marketing copy into sweeping emotional verse about the human condition even when selling something with zippers.
2. A literary genre pioneered by brands who believe a backpack can heal the world.
Example: “I’m not just a water bottle. I’m a vessel for your journey.”
Synonyms: aspirational branding, brand myth-making, emotional copywriting, existential capitalism.
See also: soul-washing, adventure-washing, inspirational inflation.
I get those late winter blues when I stare into the abyss of a snowstorm and ponder the futility of shoveling my driveway, knowing I'll have to do it again tomorrow.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.
"I was conscious, and that's all. Beyond my consciousness, there was nothing else.
More time passed. I waited for something to happen. Nothing happened.
I was calm. Or frozen. I felt as if I was on the verge of the most terrifying thought in the world, but I wasn't having it quite yet.
Then I had it."
- Alex Garland, The Coma
"As long as one person still lives..." "..it will be eternal proof that Mankind ever existed."
So, as you would be able to tell from my last few descriptions, I'm having an existential crisis. When you're in such a mental state, your views of the world become skewed.
As I look at the shot of this horrible grey industrial block, I wonder if this is the true legacy of the human race. When we're all dead and gone, it feels like these structures will sum up our contribution entirely.
The reality of this shot involved peeing at the side of the road, having to get the tripod out for the 50th time and lots of shivering.
I thought she was going on a deep sea journey, but in reading the write-up, it sounds more like a journey to human connection..
Apparently that helmet is made from an old furnace..
"Lost 5 – Signal" is a sculpture by artist Karl Mattson, displayed in Penticton as part of the city's Public Sculpture Exhibition from May 2024 to April 2025. This 14-foot-tall piece, constructed from new and salvaged steel, depicts a figure extending an arm skyward, symbolizing an attempt to send or receive a signal, reflecting humanity's search for connection in uncertain times.
The sculpture is installed at the Front Street roundabout, a prominent location that ensures visibility to both residents and visitors. This placement continues Penticton's tradition of showcasing impactful public art, following the display of Mattson's earlier work, "Lost," in the same location during the 2020-2021 exhibition.
Mattson's "Lost" series serves as a commentary on humanity's complacent progression into an uncertain future, with each piece exploring themes of environmental decline and existential struggle. "Lost 5 – Signal" emphasizes communication and the human desire for connection amidst these challenges.
There are many generic kinds of time. Each field of gravity in the
Universe has its own specific time, determined by the mass contained
in that field. There are no two points on Earth which at the same
moment of astronomical time would remain in the same relation to
the Sun, even though the practical convention of time zones imposes
consistency on all local clocks.
These thoughts formulated by Jarosław Kozłowski in 1978 amazingly
correspond with many of his installations. The artist’s obsession with
time is present both in his utterances and in specific actions. Alarm
clocks, watches, temporal manipulation—that’s a frequent motif in
his practice. He used watches for the first time in 1968 in his
environment Situation. Then they returned in the eighties when he
started smashing alarm clocks in Continuum, series of drawing
performances. During the nineties Kozłowski began to create
large-scale installations, in which he deconstructs time and space as
a basic categories of description of the world.
Time Archive is a site-specific installation, inscribed in given space.
Row of shelves is filled with clocks previously owned by real people
and indicating different times of day. Going each by their own time,
with references to their owners/users, the clocks represent personal
time or, in other words, history in its individual dimension. In this
archive, the hundreds of alarm clocks—individual meters of time—
drown out the authority of ‘monumental time’, associated with sym-
bols of power and compared to Nietzsche’s ‘monumental history’.
Indicating different hours, minutes and seconds, the clocks relativise
official measures of time and divisions into geographical zones. As a
space of experiencing time, the archive becomes a place of cultural
experiences, where the simple question about time (what time is it?)
refers to questions about the philosophical and political foundations
of the place of its presentation.
The sound of the ticking clocks is an integral part of the project. The
accumulative aesthetics of a collection of alarm clocks, each looking
differently and showing a different time, have an extension in the
ticking sounds, overlapping and merging into a drone. Despite the
proverbial silence of archives, the space of the Time Archive is
enlivened with its sounds.
The Time Archive project expands on themes tackled in many of
Jarosław Kozłowski’s earlier works, including in spectacular installations
such as Personal Files (1993) in a former archive in the Hague,
Personal Files II (1997) at the National Museum in Poznań, Time
Vacuum (1999) at the Arbäaer Museum in Reykjavik, Time Cistern
(2006) at the CCA Ujazdowski Castle in Warsaw, or Time Library (2007)
in the Kalisz Museum, previously the municipal archive. In all those
projects, time was considered in its various categories: biological,
existential, metaphysical, astronomic, institutional, and in relation to
the given place, its history, philosophy and politics.
Strictly speaking doctrinal knowledge is independent of the individual. But its actualization is not independent of the human capacity to act as a vehicle for it. He who possesses truth must none the less merit it although it is a free gift. Truth is immutable in itself, but in us it lives, because we live.
If we want truth to live in us we must live in it.
Knowledge only saves us on condition that it enlists all that we are, only when it is a way and when it works and transforms and wounds our nature even as the plough wounds the soil.
To say this is to say that intelligence and metaphysical certainty alone do not save; of themselves they do not prevent titans from falling. This is what explains the psychological and other precautions with which every tradition surrounds the gift of the doctrine.
When metaphysical knowledge is effective it produces love and destroys presumption. It produces love, that is to say the spontaneous directing of the will towards God and the perception of "myself" - and of God - in one's neighbour. It destroys presumption, for knowledge does not allow a man to overestimate himself or to underestimate others. By reducing to ashes all that is not God it orders all things.
All St. Paul says of charity concerns effective knowledge, for the latter is love, and he opposes it to theory inasmuch as theory is human concept. The Apostle desires that truth should be contemplated with our whole being and he calls this totality of contemplation "love".
Metaphysical knowledge is sacred. It is the right of sacred things to require of man all that he is.
Intelligence, since it distinguishes, perceives, as one might put
it, proportions. The spiritual man integrates these proportions into his will, into his soul and into his life.
All defects are defects of proportion; they are errors that are lived. To be spiritual means not denying at any point with one's "being" what one affirms with one's knowledge, that is, what one accepts with the intelligence.
Truth lived: incorruptibility and generosity. Since ignorance is all that we are and not merely our thinking, knowledge will also be all that we are to the extent to which our existential modalities are by their nature able to participate in truth.
Human nature contains dark elements which no intellectual
certainty could, ipso facto, eliminate...
Pure intellectuality is as serene as a summer sky - serene with a serenity that is at once infinitely incorruptible and infinitely generous.
Intellectualism which "dries up the heart" has no connection
with intellectuality.
The incorruptibility - or inviolability - of truth is bound up neither with contempt nor with avarice.
What is man's certainty? On the level of ideas it may be perfect, but on the level of life it but rarely pierces through illusion.
Everything is ephemeral and every man must die. No man is
ignorant of this and no one knows it.
Man does not always accept truth because he understands it; often he believes he understands it because he is anxious to accept it.
People often discuss truths whereas they should limit themselves to discussing tastes and tendencies ...
Acuteness of intelligence is only a blessing when it is compensated by greatness and sweetness of the soul. It should not appear as a rupture of the equilibrium or as an excess which splits man in two. A gift of nature requires complementary qualities which allow of its harmonious manifestation; otherwise there is a risk of the lights becoming mingled with darkness.
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Frithjof Schuon: Spiritual Perspectives and Human Facts
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Quoted in: The Essential Frithjof Schuon (edited by Seyyed Hossein Nasr)
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Image: Descent from the Cross, Novgorod school (late 15th c.)
My friend and I had a conversation today over lunch about how her husband, who will turn forty next year, has been going through an existential crisis lately that ends each weekend with overeating pastries. After we parted and I was freezing, I went to eat alone because I was the only one in our party of two who was starving. I was alone at the bar, caught in my teenage comfort foods—matzah ball soup, French fries, coffee, and cheesecake—staring at the windows in front of me. For a split second, I had my own crisis—unsure if it was truly existential or just a typical New York City “romantic” moment many have experienced before me. I didn’t really think of myself; I thought of New York City and its magic. As I finished my second cup of coffee, melancholy and nostalgia took over me, but I can't say that feeling was sadness entirely. No, it was a “romantic” NYC moment, as if that's how one is supposed to feel after an amazing day in the city. I felt as if I was part of “You’ve Got Mail,” with Tom Hanks just around the corner. Then I thought, maybe New York City really is the best place to be if you give it a chance. I will not question if that feeling is just an illusion. Not tonight.
Law’s notes: 9-30-XX
I change more with each passing day. I feel that when I first sprang into being, the birthchild of decades old memories and something funky in the water of Midian, I was a completely different person.
It’s probably a matter of the experience of this transformation process. Cluster of memories > Brain tape > Clone = … I dunno… existential crisis? Most likely. The hole is there.
I spoke to D at length this evening, after a grueling 18 hours of free running… and spilled it. Told her how I felt something was missing in my essence. Something core. I told her it was probably my soul. She said it was probably purpose.
Volpe said exactly the same thing, the other night.
Soul… what is a soul? Is a soul simply purpose? D said it’s easier to define. Yes, purpose is… but is that what I’m missing? Purpose. I didn’t feel this way before the transbeing process.. but I was a cocky young pilot, moving into a training programming that I excelled at. I was about to be liberated from my parents, put into a school where I could do the things I loved – I had it all.
Now my parents have been dead for almost a year. My training program ended fifteen years ago, and I’d moved on… and became Laz. Hero. Loving husbanesque thing. All around nice guy.
Not me though. I’m not a Hero. Not a husbandesque thing. And definitely not an all around nice guy… or am I? Maybe that’s what’s missing. That purpose. Apparently the Old Man knew that. He found it. He didn’t feel something was missing.
But he wasn’t a clone of a man he isn’t.
I need to lay him to rest in my own head. Truly made a division somehow…
But have a made a mistake contacting all of his old friends? Was that the crucial turning point where I went wrong – coming back here, to Midian? Or is this the first step in finding purpose… and, God Willing… a soul?
digital art 2008.
a friend of mine was telling me about a person who had been going to a psychiatrist for about 2 years.she eventually asked him if he had arrived at a diagnosis to which he delivered a rambling monologue of which the only thing she remembered was the phrase "existential ambivalence".
i wondered what that looked like!
So the sun disappears. Under the weight of the gravitational pull. Pushed by this deep sense of existential emptiness. If you think about it, there is only a sun that shines on us. The same that we share. Without it, we feel blind and disappeared.
Hasselblad 501 CM
Zeiss Planar 80mm f/2,8
Foma 100 120mm b/w film
R09 (1 + 37)
20° stand
Through transparent curtains I sense the world going by,
Outside the earth is hushed--as if holding its breath,
Time envelopes the room like a beggar's ragged coat,
I'm a witness to life's transient sigh.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.
I think a lot and it is not what I am boast of. It is what I know about myself and what a great many of people have also noticed. But I think not in that way when you have to wait for my decision. I am fast at making decisions. I am thinking a lot about existential questions. I feel that the life that I have is the only true thing that I actually have and live it meaningfully is my greatest wish and desire as I believe there is not going to be another chance. Sometimes this thinking brings a lot of harshness. Sometimes it is not easy to adapt to the lack of universal meaning in life. But you know what they say? Isn’t the thirst the provement of water existence? So I keep searching life answers.
© Mari Nino Photography
| blog
Upon entering "Yummy Restaurant," the laws of logic appeared to unravel. The waiter, dressed in a tuxedo made of live eels, welcomed me with a grin that revealed a set of carnivorous teeth. The menu, written in a language unknown to mankind, presented dishes with names like "Existential Enigma" and "Metaphysical Morsel." As I attempted to savor the first bite, my spoon transformed into a wriggling millipede, leaving me pondering the true meaning of gastronomic absurdity.
The sun is a generous lord | It shares its light |
With all things Great or Small.
Straight out of the Camera. A camera is a receptacle of light. A photographer is a gatherer of light. A camera can capture infinite attributes and hues of light. Attributes and hues which can be manipulated but (perhaps) never enhanced by post processing on a computer. Personally I believe that a mild tweaking of exposure or white balance may be necessary at times but extensive processing sucks out the meditative and emotionally charged component of an image leaving behind something which is unreal and lifeless. To PP or not to PP? An existential dilemma which every photographer has to solve for him-her-self.
I am tinted and toned by what I do. Who I connect with, where I go and when, and how I do it all compile why I am the way I am.
.... I can't choose between these two editions! lol What is your opinion??? Which do you prefer? xD Thanks in advance for the opinions! greetings and happy week!
....así es, no puedo decidirme por ninguna de las ediciones de esta foto!! jajaja Cuál es vuestra opinión??? Cuál os gusta más u os disgusta menos?? xD Gracias desde ya por las opiniones!! un saludo y feliz semana!
Whatever had caught the attention of this little mantis within the bush, it was of sufficient interest that it didn't notice me at all - it made me chuckle to see what looks like a mantis existential moment, staring deep in to the abyss!
Archimantis latistyla
5 cm length
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The sun is a generous lord | It shares its light |
With all things Great or Small.
Straight out of the Camera. A camera is a receptacle of light. A photographer is a gatherer of light. A camera can capture infinite attributes and hues of light. Attributes and hues which can be manipulated but (perhaps) never enhanced by post processing on a computer. Personally I believe that a mild tweaking of exposure or white balance may be necessary at times but extensive processing sucks out the meditative and emotionally charged component of an image leaving behind something which is unreal and lifeless. To PP or not to PP? An existential dilemma which every photographer has to solve for him-her-self.