View allAll Photos Tagged existential
Despite the joy that Teilhard felt whenever he would sink into the divine milieu or perceive Christ's presence at the Heart of Matter, he also experienced, at times, a deep-seated existential terror, especially when no one else seemed to see what he was able to see (HM, 100). Always aware that this departure from the traditional might be misguided, his terror at these moments was similar to Jacob's. The path was not safe, and the outcome, unclear. Yet, Teilhard never tired of his struggle to find the ever-greater Christ who was always waiting for him just beneath the veil, just over the horizon.
-Teilhard's Struggle, Embracing the Work of Evolution, Kathleen Duffy, SSJ
While chasing bubbles around my parent's garden over the holiday... Thoughts of mortality rise and burst all around me. Occasionally coating me with existential goo (detergent and sugar, in case you didn't know ;-)
Happy 2015 to you all....wishing you a year rich in photographic treasure, wonder and friendship.
Cheers and gratitude to all....
'Gifts and the Raft' by The Cave Singers: www.youtube.com/watch?v=eplsBWNT-Og
Reading through this article about the benefits of Machine Learning,
www.datacamp.com/blog/what-is-machine-learning
I've learned that Machine Learning (ML) is a branch of artificial intelligence (AI) enabling AI to imitate the way that humans learn, gradually improving it's accuracy.
The following statement particularly caught my attention in the article:
'In the 21st century, data is the new oil, and machine learning is the engine that powers this data-driven world. It is a critical technology in today's digital age, and its importance cannot be overstated.'
I have also learned throughout the article the many ways machine learning is beneficial for me personally: it helps me to see what I'd like to see, shows me what I'd like to buy, listens to me, tracks my behaviour and feeds my mind it's daily dose of information.
And from there I can see the benefits of me being in a perfectly round digital world with all my favourite things and thoughts circulating around me, I just need make sure that no one will ever come close to me with their strange worlds and disturbing opinions, unless they want to see my existential fear being properly activated...
To be fair with the article, it does mention one actual benefit to humanity; it states that machine learning is used widely in health care. Google's DeepMind Health for example is working with doctors to build machine learning models to detect diseases earlier and improve patient care. And I would like to think that there are many other areas as well where the application of ML is implemented by goodwill and in faith of a better future for us, not driven by greed, power or any other sinister agendas.
I believe regardless of what is the original intent of creating a tool/machine/algorithm, once created, you will have the moral choice to use it and aim towards what's right, or to use it and aim towards what's wrong, or don't even care at all, just use the tool and see what happens, in any ways, there is always a price to pay.
We've yet to see what is the ultimate price to pay for releasing and so desperately trying to finalize an 'all knowing' machine god above us, and I can only hope that while we are still in control, human goodwill will always outweigh human greed, and we can still remain to be compassionate individual human beings seeing each other in the warm light of the sun, and not turning into some cold numbers on a blue screen as part of a soulless database.
...
I do understand the importance of science and economics, but I don't want to live in a 'data-driven' world...
I want to live in a love-driven world.
If only machines could 'deep learn' love, and mass generate it into the world... that I could call Progress.
Image taken at Bikás Park Underground Station, Budapest, Hungary.
Alberto Giacometti was one of the most important sculptors of the 20th century. His work was particularly influenced by artistic styles such as Cubism and Surrealism. Philosophical questions about the human condition, as well as existential and phenomenological debates played a significant role in his work. Around 1935 he gave up on his Surrealistic influences in order to pursue a more deepened analysis of figurative compositions.
Between 1938 and 1944 Giacometti's sculptures had a maximum height of seven centimeters (2.75 inches).[7] Their small size reflected the actual distance between the artist's position and his model. In this context he self-critically stated: "But wanting to create from memory what I had seen, to my terror the sculptures became smaller and smaller". After World War II, Giacometti created his most famous sculptures: his extremely tall and slender figurines. These sculptures were subject to his individual viewing experience—between an imaginary yet real, a tangible yet inaccessible space.
We become older
and are put out to pasture..................
we lose our beauty,
creases, folds, wrinkles cover the young innocence and smoothness
of our younger hedonistic days.
our mind slow downs
we think of the naivety of our youth
and how directionless they seem
the painful existential angst: to ponder our obsolescence, the passage of time brings on...................
that there isnt enough time to accomplish what we believe we should have or still can.
fear anxiety paralyzes many of us.
mistakes are not acceptable
the clock our worst enemy.
the hell that demonizes us.
Near Bantry.........
IRELAND
Photography’s new conscience
Promethéus, "colui che riflette prima"; è un personaggio della mitologia greca.
Prometeo rubò il fuoco agli dei per darlo al genere umano e la sua azione, che avvenne in antitesi a Zeus ed è posta ai primordi dell'umanità, rappresenta l'origine della condizione esistenziale umana.
Eng
Prometheus, "he who reflects first"; is a character in Greek mythology.
Prometheus stole fire from the gods to give it to mankind and his action, which occurred in antithesis to Zeus and is placed at the beginning of humanity, represents the origin of the human existential condition.
...just a real photography...
No artificial intelligence, no computer graphics...
Many thanks dear friends for your views, faves and supportive comments. These are always very much appreciated.
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Never mind that the video is black and white, the audio is silent, and the screen flickers like a bad horror movie. Rules say "bolts or other items without the matching socket will be removed"—but what about perfectly fitting connections that refuse to work?
This SCART-to-RCA adapter is a shining example of deception—it plugs in smoothly, yet the signals inside are having an existential crisis. The video signal screams in RGB, but the TV only understands composite, leaving us with a washed-out mess. The audio sits quietly, confused and alone, wondering why it wasn’t invited to the party.
But hey, it fits, so it stays! Even if it means your movie looks like a ghost story filmed in 1925.
I was listening to "Marooned" by Pink Floyd while working on this image. One thing kind of led to another. An adult beverage may have been involved.
Here's the inspiration.
www.youtube.com/results?search_query=marooned+pink+floyd
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
Ho realizzato questo scatto perchè non capivo.
Riguardo il risultato e mi crea angoscia.
L’angoscia sperimentata a livello emotivo finisce per risultare paralizzante. Può farci sentire ansiosi, impauriti, e minacciati senza ragione. Può essere caratterizzata da un senso di vuoto esistenziale, o farci sentire un peso che rende difficile respirare.
I took this shot because I didn't understand.
I look back at the result and it makes me anxious.
The anguish experienced on an emotional level ends up being paralyzing. It can make us feel anxious, afraid, and unnecessarily threatened. It can be characterized by a sense of existential emptiness, or make us feel a weight that makes it difficult to breathe
Many thanks for your views, faves and supportive comments. These are always very much appreciated.
you can see other works in :
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Absolutely no permission is granted in any form, fashion or way, digital or otherwise, to use my images on blogs, personal or professional websites or any other media form without my direct written permission.
This includes Pinterest, FaceBook,Tumblr, Reddit or other websites where one's images are circulated without the photographer's knowledge or permission.
If you recognize yourself in a photo of this gallery, you certainly weren't what I was photographing, if you don't want it to be published let me know and the photo, perhaps, will be removed.
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eN-genes
Now more than ever you can be like a tree unaging In the mind,
with its diseased shadow squeezing a grave, squeezing me:
China bones and tendons in various degrees of separation,
floods and droughts ruining my heart now cold, eyes closed
over beliefs that held my life together, lying exposed, nameless
quaint fragments sitting below the mutilation of a sunrise.
I’m sporting an existential dark gray outfit with an elegance
to be the envy of Tiffany. And a prayer hiding beneath every curse.
On a stage without curtains publishing my fury in a fury of words.
With flowers dried to amber in one hand and a blade in the other,
into the flesh of trees; I convert this energy and this body’s hunger.
I’m an annotator; suffering is difficult to depict and I need paper.
So there it is, words gathering like birds on an empty clothesline,
hinting at implications in a blur of thoughts and old forgotten creeds.
Hear me out: “Let’s leave footprints deep as the ocean. Try it. Seriously.
One spring out of every century”. The edge of time makes a sound
and the music runs through the kitchen, through my bloodstream,
breaking the glasses as I cut onions, as I cut you out of everything.
June 20-2018-18.00
fat jon & styrofoam - Generic Genes
"but as you wait, i heard that there's a way to save some
collect everything that connects to the bass drum
we'll take a journey and venture back at a later date
no need to worry now, everything was saved to tape
control the medium, listen when the people speak
note the elements, even if they're incomplete
as it filters through..don't interrupt the code
no need to look around. there'll always be enough to load"
Demanding and difficult are closely related terms, but there is a fine distinction between the two. Exploring what distinguishes the merely difficult from the demanding will help us find the edge of our awareness where the aesthetic plunges down into existential depth...
Analyzing a piece of music according to all the intricacies of musicology is certainly more difficult than simply to sit back and listen with wholehearted enjoyment; yet, to listen deeply is more demanding than to analyze the structure. Analyzing takes knowledge and skill; true listening takes all of you. It might not seem difficult to give ourselves to the rapture of beauty. Yet, out of it emerges a Presence, a Voice, name it as you wish, that goes beyond aesthetics and makes existential demands; “You must change...”
-A Listening Heart-the Spirituallity of Sacred Sensuousness, Brother David Steindl-Rast
Location: Visit Nature's Sillywood in Second Life
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- Thalia Heckroth Flickr Group
In the cradle of spring, where life begins anew,
Blossoms unfurl, in the softest hues of dew.
The sun whispers warmth, the earth sighs in relief,
As life dances forth, from each bud and leaf.
Yet, in this rebirth, a silent echo we find,
Of cycles unending, of the most existential kind.
For each petal that blooms, must one day fall,
And the greenest of branches, in winter, stand tall.
Spring's breath is sweet, but carries a truth,
That life is a moment, fleeting and uncouth.
In the heart of each flower, lies the seed of demise,
And in the joy of birth, the shadow of goodbyes.
But fear not the end, for in death, life is sown,
And from the darkest of soils, new light is shown.
So let spring's feelings, of life and of death,
Teach us to cherish, each heartbeat, each breath.
The watching faces above hover between spectacle and survival, reminding us that time does not shout. It observes. It records. It waits. They know that death rarely looks like the figure below—rarely arrives dressed, named, or understood. More often, it passes quietly while attention is elsewhere.
Death is loud but hollow.
Life is quiet but heavy.
And time, carved into faces above, watches both with equal patience.
I recently finished reading a very interesting collection of short stories entitled Save Me Stranger, by Erika Krouse. The stories are pretty wild and go in all different directions with quite a large variety of main characters and settings. Many really made me think more deeply about life situations and reality.
In any case, the collection starts out with the following quote from Anaïs Nin:
"Stories are the only enchantment possible, for when we begin to see our suffering as a story, we are saved."
I've been thinking about that quite a bit and I immediately start thinking about how when you are going through a traumatic incident, it is sometimes helpful to picture yourself removed from your body, as if seeing it all from an existential distance.
How will we understand and tell our own stories with this huge change in history...this turmoil, these atrocities currently happening in our names. And, of course, the "winners" are the ones who get to write those stories but none of us are winning here. Some of us may be lucky to survive but that's about all. What we've all collectively lost is immeasurable, whether we write it down or not.
**All photos are copyrighted**
Once again, I find myself on the IC shooting the daily transfer from CN’s Glenn Yard to Kirk Yard. On a surprising sunny day this December, train L5369129 traverses its way south through one of Chicago’s most busiest and existential junctions of Kensington. An Illinois Central SD70 (1038) leads a couple of CN corporate painted units such as a GEVO, GP40R, and an SD38-2. Seen here in rare form taking main one under the wire while passing the Illinois Central interlocking tower nearing its 100th year guarding the junction for the Illinois Central, Chicago South Shore and South Bend, and now of course Canadian National and Metra. Taken: 12-29-22
Us locals and regulars that know the train well, know how hard it is for them to run main 1 here at Kensington, yes I’m sure it happens all the time when were not around but to be there when it does, opens for new shot opportunities such as this.
Die Hoffnung hängt an Schläuchen - Hope hangs on tubes.
The formal challenge: how to express an existential feeling or a cardinal virtue in our times with means of photography,
An existential moment is loosely defined as the moment when you become aware of your existence, or how insignificant you are in the big scheme of things. My moment came on a multi day hiking trip in the wilderness of Northern California. But this moment can occur anywhere and at anytime--sometimes when things look the bleakest. I wonder if you can have more than one moment in your life?
Location: an insignificant part of my mind.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
Location:
No matter how far you wander, and how alone you feel, sometimes a simple call home is all you need to cure what ails ya.
Image created in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
For him, the existential question of God, experienced as an invincible question, is evidence enough of the presence and reality of God. “When all our mind is aglow with the eternal ques- tion like a face in gazing on a mighty blaze, we are not moved to ask: Where is God?” No, in that context we ask “Where are we?” and are moved to confess that “God is more plausible than our own selves.”
-Approaching God, The Way of Abraham Joshua Heschel, John C. Merkle
It has been fundamentally a psychological and existential journey.
Roger Ballen
Peace now!
witch hazel, 'Wisley Supreme', sarah p duke gardens, duke university, durham, north carolina
Just playing with trying to enhance the 'eye'.
Photography is wonderful because it captures things that we may not see. In the case of this photo when I was taking it I only saw some light haze coming up from the bottom of the frame.
I tilted the camera to try and eliminate most of it and took the image. When I checked the result I noticed the light halo that looks kind of like an eye. Which I think turns it into an existential artwork rather than just a star snap.
With the company’s market share hovering near 50% throughout the 1960s, General Motors executives feared a potential government breakup. This existential threat influenced a number of corporate decisions at the time, including downplaying racing and street performance. This included the edict limiting “intermediates” and Pony cars to engines under 400 cubic inches. For 1970, however, that rule was rescinded.
With Clean Air Act regulations looming the following year, however, the policy change had a short-lived effect. It did create such unencumbered behemoths as the 455-ci Buick GSX Stage 1, Oldsmobile 442 and Pontiac GTO in 1970. Chevrolet’s top-shelf 427-ci engine received a longer stroke to become the 454. It was available in mild RPO LS5 or wild LS6 versions. The LS6 used solid lifters and forged internals, and made 450 horsepower.
Requiring the Z15 SS 454 option at $503.45, the $263.30 LS6 package with $221.80 M22 4-speed manual added $988.55 to the base Chevelle price of $2,809. All-in, an LS6 Chevelle was pushing $5,000, which was Corvette territory at the time.
In its December 1969 issue, Motor Trend tested such a Chevelle against two other muscle cars, a Plymouth Road Runner 440 Six Pack and a Ford Torino Cobra 429. The Chevy was the clear winner, doing 0–60 mph in 6.0 seconds and running the quarter mile in 13.8, over a half-second better than the others. (Hot Rod got even better results: 13.44 seconds at an amazing 108.17 mph.) The Chevelle delivered more than just straight-line speed, as Motor Trend noted: “Nurtured by the evolution of the Z28, the Chevelles, even the big ones, dart like whippets through the tightest turns. It was certainly the strongest — the most super — of the three.”
I always enjoyed photographing animals: not necessarily the really wild ones, but one's I could identify with and have a conversation with, such as sheep, goats and cows. Of course it's essential to get up close and personal and Nettie here, reminded me that she doesn't really tolerate visitors invading her space by jabbing one very pointy, sharp horn hard into my side. I knew it was time to move on. Perhaps I'm over confident, but............
In the green heart of Glen Nevis, where the river curled like silver ribbon through the heather, there lived a thoughtful Highland cow named Nettie. Nettie wasn’t just any coo — she was an eco-coo. While her herd spent their days munching, mooing, and minding their own cud, Nettie spent hers worrying about methane.
You see, Nettie had heard the walkers passing through the glen muttering about “climate change” and “cow emissions.” She didn’t fully understand the science, but she did understand one thing: her farts were apparently famous for all the wrong reasons.
So, Nettie took matters into her own hooves. She watched her diet carefully, nibbling only the lush, green grass by the riverbank — the kind that didn’t bubble her belly quite so much. Still, every now and then, she couldn’t resist a crunchy thistle or a bitter dock leaf. One mouthful, and burrrrp! The echoes bounced off Ben Nevis itself.
One breezy afternoon, as Nettie was meditating on her methane, a small figure appeared down the glen. It was a young activist named Greta, armed with a clipboard, a megaphone, a flag, and boundless enthusiasm.
“Hello, beautiful cow!” Greta chirped. “I’m here to talk to you about sustainability!”
Nettie blinked. Sustainability she could get behind. But Greta didn’t stop there. She crept closer and closer, trying to get the perfect selfie with Scotland’s most eco-conscious cow.
Unfortunately, Greta got too close. Nettie, feeling her personal space invaded, gave a warning shuffle. Greta didn’t notice — she was too busy adjusting her megaphone and waving her Palestine flag at some Chinese tourists in a passing tour bus
And so, with the serenity of a creature at peace with her digestive destiny, Nettie turned, sighed deeply, and sat down.
There was a noise — a long, trumpeting sound, and unmistakably bovine as the megaphone sjipped inside the cow's rear and a rush of high pressure warm air echoed through the glen, rattled the rocks, and sent a flock of startled grouse skyward. Greta’s megaphone took the brunt of it, amplifying the event into something that might have registered on the Richter scale.
When the air finally cleared, Nettie looked back over her shoulder with calm satisfaction. Greta, covered in thistle fluff and existential humility, scribbled something on her clipboard:
“Lesson learned: nature always speaks louder.”
From that day on, Nettie was known far and wide as the Highland Coo who cared for the planet — and wasn’t afraid to make a statement when necessary.
And in Glen Nevis, whenever the wind carried a faint, grassy pfffft across the hills, the locals just smiled and said,
“Ah, that’ll be Nettie = the Glen Nevis Monster— saving the world again.”
Two lone kayakers slice across the shimmering water, silhouetted against the fading light. Their strokes are steady, their eyes fixed on the horizon. They’ve made it. After weeks of surviving the cursed island dodging sunburned zombies in flip-flops and fending off undead parrots squawking “BRAAAINS”, they’ve finally escaped. No more tiki torches. No more haunted beach volleyball. Just freedom.
But wait… they’re paddling away from the camera. From you.
Could it be? Were you the final boss all along? The silent one. The observer. The zombie with a lens and a suspiciously good sense of composition.
This image is a horror-comedy masterpiece—equal parts escape scene and existential crisis. My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections—though this one might be just for those who enjoy a little undead drama with their water sports.
'now the stars, they are all angled wrong...
and the sun and the moon refuse to burn
but i remember a message in a demon's hand
dread the passage of jesus for he does not return...'
Nick Cave and The Dirty Three
"The flowers stand out against their background of rock and coral-red sand with what I can only describe as an existential assertion of life; they are almost audible."
Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire 1968
Frosts are due this week, and I suspect the last of the fall flowers will succumb for another season.
(40/365) For macro mondays theme "holes", This is a donut hole, about 0.7" wide. What's on the other side? A chocolate iced donut, of course. This does beg the existential question "what happens to the hole when you eat the donut?" You don't eat the hole, so does it still exist? Something to ponder (over a bottle of tequila, probably).
they hold each other like punctuation against the vastness — a comma of tenderness in a sentence made of stone and sky. the architecture curves not toward shelter but toward meaning, and even the silence seems designed. here, light is a language, and emptiness speaks.
“We do not reason about dogmas of faith, or ‘the mysteries.’ We seek rather to gain a direct existential grasp, a personal experience of the deepest truths of life and faith, finding ourselves in God’s truth.”
-Thomas Merton, The Climate of Monastic Prayer (Washington, DC: Consortium Press, 1973, 1st ed. 1969), 92
"In restless dreams, I walked alone."
--Paul Simon
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
The land of the Yogi Masters, a stark rock world surrounded by precipitous stone cliffs, where every sheer peak sports a Yogi deep in the mysteries of self realization. Talk about an existential moment. Unfortunately, my knees are too rickety to take part in this kind of rugged self actualization.
Location: a very small cavern of self fulfillment in my mind.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
time bends.
stories remain.
i experimented a bit with AI and after editing the result to make it less clean i really enjoyed it. what do you think?
i asked chatGPT:
do you think this work has been created by AI?
the answer was:
No, the image appears very authentic and possesses that typical “imperfect perfection” of genuine photography. The details in the face, the natural wrinkles and irregularities, the motion blur in the background, and the profound emotion in the eyes strongly suggest a real shot. It also exudes a raw humanity that AI-generated images often don’t fully achieve. Furthermore, the composition and the interplay of light and shadow seem thoughtfully arranged, yet not overly staged. The photo bears the hallmark of an experienced photographer with a keen eye for emotion and drama.
model: Alessia
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