View allAll Photos Tagged existential
Fomaton MG 131 24x30cm in Moersch SE5
A + B + H2O = 40+35+1000
Lith Ī© - 30 sec
Kentmere 400@800 in Ilford Microphen 1+0
š· Holga 120GN
Two lone kayakers slice across the shimmering water, silhouetted against the fading light. Their strokes are steady, their eyes fixed on the horizon. Theyāve made it. After weeks of surviving the cursed island dodging sunburned zombies in flip-flops and fending off undead parrots squawking āBRAAAINSā, theyāve finally escaped. No more tiki torches. No more haunted beach volleyball. Just freedom.
But waitā¦ theyāre 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 masterpieceāequal 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 collectionsāthough this one might be just for those who enjoy a little undead drama with their water sports.
Once again, I find myself on the IC shooting the daily transfer from CNās Glenn Yard to Kirk Yard. On a surprising sunny day this December, train L5369129 traverses its way south through one of Chicagoās 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 Iām 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.
You live in your underwater world while I walk up top just yards away, and most of the time Iām never even aware of you. But this afternoon when the tide was low and the sun came out, I saw you. A beam of sunlight caught your tentacles and lit you up so beautifully, like a little green sun with a fiery ring of flames around you.
In your mysterious world on the seafloor, there are ancient forests, rivers and meadows with colorful flowers ā¦ theyāre all just a little different from the ones I know. And thatās what I love about you! Youāre so different and exciting. Itās almost like youāre a messenger from a parallel universe.
I grew up bilingual, so Iāve always known there is more than one way to do things and more than one way to think. Being in the tidal zone, youāre sort of bi-existential, too. Sometimes youāre left high and dry out of water and then you hide your tentacles and look like an old wet sock. But you can survive and you just wait. The tide will return and when it does, you transform back into that alluring and predatory flower of the seafloor!
Be intoxicatingly different!
Claudia
like a brushstroke vanishing in light, the silhouette floats into the glow ā neither arriving nor leaving, just passing. shadows collapse behind her like closed pages, and only silence remains in the tunnelās breathless geometry.
At almost 16,000ft in elevation, we are on final approach the summit of railroading in the Americas. It is here at Ticlio where FCCA legs out its final sprint to Galera, and where the Peruvian railroad stands alone atop the Western World. At 3 miles in altitude, the air is thin, the wind is frigid, and the rocky Andean landscape is as hazardous as the manmade infrastructure built to conquer it.
In a desperate attempt to rescue a mechanically-plagued loaded ore train, a tag-team of three ex-Norfolk Southern C39-8s tackle the grueling climb back to Galera, led by 1012 and 1026. It is rare to find a double-header on the mountainous section, and a triple-header is almost non-existent; however, desperate times call for desperate measures. The battle against gravity was a spectacular one and the pinnacle of hard-nose, gritty, mountain railroading. The field a fire a mere kilometer, but the implications, potentially existential. Eventually, the 3 C39-8s emerged victorious, guiding the train to a temporary respite at the summit after a furious bout of combat at 15,700 feet.
Navigating the high AndƩs is a daunting proposition for both railroaders and railfans alike. Altitude sickness is no joke, and coupled with the freezing temperatures, high winds, and terrifyingly lawless highways (not to mention almost complete lack of amenities), most days end with one question: "how the hell did I end up here?"
This is a metaphor for existential loneliness and helplessness. The "leaf in the wind" is always looking for support, always wanting to grab onto something, because it seems to him that everything around him is crumbling.
āŠŠ°Š¶Š“ŃŠ¹ Š¶Šµ Š·Š°Š½ŃŃ, Š±ŃŠ°Ń, ŃŠ²Š¾ŠøŠ¼ Š“ŠµŠ»Š¾Š¼. ŠÆ ŠŗŠ°Šŗ ŠŗŠøŠ½ŃŃŃŠ¹ Š²ŠµŃŃŠ¾Š¼ Š»ŠøŃŃŠ¾Šŗ. ŠŠ¾ŃŠ¾Š¼Ń Š¼ŠøŃ Š½Š°Ń, Š¼Š°, ŃŠ°Šŗ Š¶ŠµŃŃŠ¾Šŗ.ā (ŃŃŠ“Š¾Šŗ ŃŠ· ŠæŃŃŠ½Ń).
ŠŃŠ¾ŃŃŃŃ ŠæŠµŃŠµŠ“Ń Š¼Š½Š¾Ń Š±ŃŠ² ŃŠ¾Š·Š“ŃŠ»ŠµŠ½ŠøŠ¹ Š½Š° ŃŠøŃŠ»ŠµŠ½Š½Ń ŃŠµŠŗŃŃŃ ŠŗŠ¾Š½ŃŃŃŃŠŗŃŃŃŠ¼Šø ŃŠµŠ½ŃŃŃ, Ń Š¼Š°Š¹Š¶Šµ Š² ŠŗŠ¾Š¶Š½ŃŠ¹ Š· Š½ŠøŃ Š±ŃŠ»Š° Š»ŃŠ“ŠøŠ½Š° Š² ŃŃŠ°Š½Ń Ā«ŃŠ°Š¼Š¾ŃŠ·Š¾Š»ŃŃŃŃĀ». Š¢Šµ, ŃŠ¾ Ń ŠæŠ¾Š±Š°ŃŠøŠ², Š²ŠøŠŗŠ»ŠøŠŗŠ°Š»Š¾ Ń Š¼ŠµŠ½Šµ ŠæŠ¾ŃŃŠ²Š½ŃŠ½Š½Ń Š· ŃŠ°Š¼Š¾ŃŠ½ŃŠ¼ Ā«ŠŠøŃŃŠŗŠ¾Š¼ Š½Š° Š²ŃŃŃŃĀ». ŠŠµŠ½Šµ Š½ŠµŠ¼Š°Ń Š½Š° ŃŠ²ŃŃŠ»ŠøŠ½Ń, Š°Š»Šµ Ń ŃŠµŠ¶ ŠæŠ¾ŃŃŠ²Š°Š²ŃŃ ŃŠ°Š¼Š¾ŃŠ½ŃŠ¼, Ń Š¾Ń Ń ŃŠæŠ¾ŃŃŠµŃŃŠ³Š°Š² Š·Š° ŃŠ½ŃŠøŠ¼Šø.
Š¦Šµ Š¼ŠµŃŠ°ŃŠ¾ŃŠ° ŠµŠŗŠ·ŠøŃŃŠµŠ½ŃŃŠ¹Š½Š¾Ń ŃŠ°Š¼Š¾ŃŠ½Š¾ŃŃŃ ŃŠ° Š±ŠµŠ·ŠæŠ¾ŃŠ°Š“Š½Š¾ŃŃŃ. Ā«ŠŠøŃŃŠ¾Šŗ Š½Š° Š²ŃŃŃŃĀ» Š·Š°Š²Š¶Š“Šø Š² ŠæŠ¾ŃŃŠŗŃ Š¾ŠæŠ¾ŃŠø, Š·Š°Š²Š¶Š“Šø Ń Š¾ŃŠµ Š·Š° ŃŠ¾ŃŃ Š·Š°ŃŠµŠæŠøŃŠøŃŃ, Š°Š“Š¶Šµ Š¹Š¾Š¼Ń Š·Š“Š°ŃŃŃŃŃ, ŃŠ¾ Š²ŃŠµ Š½Š°Š²ŠŗŠ¾Š»Š¾ ŃŃŠ¹Š½ŃŃŃŃŃŃ.
I've shown you the black and white version of the famous Cascade Brewery in Hobart (see below). But how might it look in a Wes Anderson movie?
When I took the shot I made sure that the line of the mountain led up to the summit of the building. This can only work when the light on the main subject (the Cascade facade) is sufficient to distinguish it from the background. Front lighting is essential for the Wes Anderson look. So that came with composing the photograph.
Next came the processing, and here it was essential the change the basic palette from darker colours to more pastel ones. Anyone who knows this scene - and it is one of the most photographed buildings in Tasmania - understands how lightening the greens in the hedge is crucial in getting the look. Most important however, is the crop, so that the building is right in the centre of the frame and any extraneous features (for example the cars in the car park) are removed.
Wes Anderson has been for many years now one of the most innovative and stylish film directors in the world. His most recent movie Asteroid City is a complex existential drama that resonates well with the darker themes in the movie Oppenheimer (which came out at the same time).
A Wes Anderson movie has a particular stylist look that is known instantly to his fans. Each of us have our favourite Wes Anderson movies. For me, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Moonrise Kingdom, and the earlier take on Jacques Cousteau, The Life Aquatic are right up there. But each Wes Anderson movie has its own particular charm and sting in the tail (try The Royal Tenenbaums for sting!).
For those unfamiliar with Wes Anderson, this short video on his editing style might be a good place to start: Wes Anderson Symmetry & Editing Techniques ā 3 Ways Anderson Balances his Edits
www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-XoLPmZZl4
As still photographers we can learn a great deal from the film makers.
the girl stands alone on the dark hill, small against the vast sky. the clouds twist like unseen hands, reaching down, shaping something unknown. a single contrail cuts through the silence. to the right, the building stands, cold and distant, its steps leading somewhere unseen. does she belong here, or is she just passing through?
a child stands alone on the stairs, quietly holding the rail. the line of light above cuts through the space like a thought ā clear, silent, and pointed directly at her.
there is no urgency. only form. only stillness.
this is how presence begins:
not with action, but with a line and a pause.
I always think a lot more about death when I'm sick and mainly I think about how tombstones are a real untapped potential in eternal humor that keeps on giving. At the Basilica di San Miniato a Monte, I didn't see any funny tombstones. There were none that read, "But, I haven't finished the last chapter of Baron in the Trees, yet!" or "Hey death, can you please just wait until I get to the end of the My Brilliant Friend series?!" These are, in my humble opinion, great tombstones. You've got a book recommendation and something funny at the same time. You know those cemetery visitors would run home and read Italo Calvino and Elena Ferrante before the Grim Reaper could chase them down, anyway!
How about a horror film whee the authors of a small macabre town realize that the only way they can pacify a melancholic group of existential zombies is to feed them books?
**All photos are copyrighted**
A blue world can always use a splash of red.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
Adrenaline runnin' through my veins
I'm a skeleton when you say my name
And the high, no, it never goes away
Like jumpin' out an airplane to swimmin' with the sharks
That existential feelin' when you're starin' at the stars
There's a hurricane in my head, but the lightnin' in my heart
Makes it worth it
Yeah, I still get nervous
When you walk through the door and you look in my eyes
Yeah, it feels, yeah, it feels like the very first time
I can fall for you forever, I'm certain
'Cause I still get nervous
When your lips hit my lips and the fireworks fly
Sendin' sparks through the air, like the Fourth of July
I can fall for you forever, I'm certain
'Cause I still get nervous
Every time, every time we touch
It's like paradise, fell down from above
And the high, even too much ain't enough, nah, no
Like flyin' in the fast lane, no headlights in the dark
That existential feelin' when you wonder what you are
Got a wild wind in my head, but the butterflies in my heart
Make it worth it
Yeah, I still get nervous
model: Alessia
please View On Black
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Ā© All Rights reserved. Use without permission is illegal
āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«ā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«āŖā«
thanks for the visit but no awards please
Such A Call Is Divine Mystical Call.
by Dr. Antony Theodore ,Sunday, December 3, 2017
Reading the teachings
of the Fathers,
holy scriptures
of the world religions,
the Rheinish mystics,
the English mystics,
the Spanish mystics,
the Hindu mystics,
the Sufi mystics,
and the study of
existential philosophy
and modern psychology
will result in an inner experience
which will affect the whole life
and all those who come into
contact with you.
Such a call is divine mystical call.
The one who listens to it
and works hard will become
a mystic whose works
will be a joy for all
those who seek God.
he sits alone, hand shading eyes against light that isn't there. the bench holds him. the sea stretches beyond. what he searches for on that horizon remains between him and the water. portixol, palma, 2026.
āI sometimes look into the face of my dog Stan and see a wistful sadness and existential angst, when all he is actually doing is slowly scanning the ceiling for flies.ā
ā Merrill Markoe
Thoughtful Duncan...
=====================================================
Do not blog, pin, or add ANY of my images to a website without asking.
All of my photographs are Copyrighted and All Rights Reserved.
(Ā© All rights reserved), Every single image is protected under the United States and International Copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without written permission.
Thank you for respecting the copyright.
beneath a sky stitched with fading light, a lone figure stands at the worldās edge, cradled by silence. between sea and sky, where all journeys end and begin, he carries the quiet weight of becoming.
Without sentimentality
Love
is where
we find cobwebs
cleared from the path
we travel
from now
to now
to now.
You have passed
on.
Are you still
teaching?
I wonder,
with you
blown apart
will some of
the billions of particles
distributed amongst us
kill contempt
in one fell swoop?
Will you
finally
penetrate
the hate
that laughed
at your expense?
Love
with no distraction
known
or unknown
love
aware
and existential
undeterred
by competition
ego
hunger
lust
fear.
It is always
here
now.
This is an image from my project Aftermath.
Aftermath is a photography series I created during the pandemic, using a range of experimental techniques to explore the human condition in times of crisis. By employing methods such as film soup, developing color film with black-and-white chemistry, and innovative and alternative darkroom printing, I aimed to reflect the uncertainties and disruptions of the era. The work delves into themes of resilience, vulnerability, and the broader existential challenges posed by capitalism, offering a layered social commentary on our shared experiences during turbulent times.
It's just another day in the sum of all the days. It's nice to have a loving friend to pass the time with.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
he walks with the weight of years in his posture, swallowed by a city that looks away. light finds him, but it offers no warmth Ć¢ only the outline of existence. in this frame, time folds inward and forgets to move.
āThe darker the world gets, ... the more art we should create, the more music we should make. It is literally a tool of mental emotional survival. For me, at least, I can say it becomes more and more existential.ā
~Igor Levitt, Classical pianist, Professor, Hanover University of Music, Drama and Media (German: Hochschule fĆ¼r Musik, Theater und Medien Hannover, abbreviated to HMTMH)
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 belowārarely 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.
To Prologue of the Story "The Doors"
ā«ā«Klangkarussell - Home (Lyrics)ā«ā«
In the stillness of the moment, amidst the chaos of life, we often forget how to slow down and breathe the infinite here and nowā¦to uncover the essence of what it means to be truly home.
Wandering in this universe through time and space once realizes that home, sweet home is not merely the four walls that shelter us or the bed that cradles our weary bodies, it is not the confining space of routines and societal expectations.
Instead, it is not something we can touch with our fingers at all but it's a sanctuary where our hearts find solace, where time stops and we can contemplate our true selves and delve deep into the nature of our existence.
I often encounter humans who clutter their lives with trinkets and possessions deemed valuable yet are ultimately useless, and labeling them as treasures of home, yet they remain tethered to a superficial sense of comfort that mistakes for a semblance of home.
Imagine sleeping on the floor, feeling the coolness of wood beneath you, gazing at the stars above, twinkling like forgotten dreams, and witnessing the vibrant colors of a rainbow that stretches across the horizon breaking through the storm.
In those moments, just outside of that swift current, beyond the hustle of life, forgetting about the rules and duties we stop, feel, and breathe ā¦.. and a train from Romashkovo can symbolize our journeys ā both physical and existentialāreminding us that if we donāt take a moment to appreciate the dawn, we may very well be late for everything that truly matters.
All too easily, we can become blind to the moments that offer clarity, the ones that urge us to inhale deeply, to cherish the now. Life unfolds in layers; in the interplay of tension and release, in the dance between longing and fulfillment.
So let us choose to savor these moments, to simply breathe and rejoice in the beauty of what we hold dear, in the here and now.
(to be continued...)
Devoted to my Ronnie, a talented and amazing musician who touched my heart deeply with Love į¦
296/365
I have quite a few bottles that I want to put lights into, but I am struggling to know what colour lights to put in them. I have a couple of blue bottles that I feel would work well with crisp white, and I have a tree-shaped bottle especially for Christmas for which I need to find lights. I am currently thinking 40 green micro LEDs with 20 crisp white micro LEDs because I think our tree has crisp white LEDs - the only problem is that I cannot quite remember what colour lights our tree has. I know that the lights around the house are warm white and that the tree's colour theme is ice blue and silver, but I cannot remember whether the lights on the tree are white or blue. I think I am going to have to take a gamble and say that they are white.
This all sounds very trivial, but in my mind, it is what is bothering me most today. I have days where I can spend hours grappling with big, existential and metaphysical questions, and then days where all I can think about is the colour of a couple of fairy lights.
āOne does not become fully human painlessly.ā
-- Rollo May
American existential psychologist (1909 ā 1994)
the light carves a sharp question mark on the old asphalt. he steps into it, a figure caught between the vast, consuming dark and an uncertain path ahead. his gesture is an unspoken plea, a silent weighing of invisible burdens. where the shadows end, and the journey begins anew, he stands. a solitary soul at a crossroads of time and choice, the city's indifferent hum his only witness. it is a moment of profound, quiet decision.
The Kurukshetra is the great, apocalyptic field of battle in India's massive epic poem ( the longest in world literature ), "The Mahabharata". Two clans of a family, in dispute over the succession to the throne and the rulership of the land, square off in one of most violent and bloody battles ever rendered in verse. The tragedy of it is that it was family members destroying each other in the most unthinkable ways over this dispute. Few survived and to this day, the site of the Kurukshetra, which is known, is still remembered for not only for the war but also as the site of "The Bhagavad Gita", a story set within the events of "The Mahabharata".
The "Gita" begins as the Pandavas gather across from the Kauravas on the plain of battle, the brave Pandava warrior, Prince Arjuna, is paralysed the existential dread. How can he and the Pandava go to war and slaughter their relatives? His chariot driver is none other than the god Krishna in human form. As Arjuna loses his resolve over his deeper questions, Krishna begins a dialogue with him that is one of the great existential/spiritual teachings of the ages.
Abstraction from straight photographs. Created July 19, 2022.
Zoom in for a more detailed and immersive view.
Explore Aug 23, 2022.
____________________________________________________
Ā© 2022, Richard S Warner. All Rights Reserved. This image may not be used or copied or posted to another website in any form whatsoever without express permission of the creator of this work, with whom the sole copyright resides.
Instagram: Richard S Warner.
It is an undeniably cool thing to have photographed trains all over the country already this year. From the eastern Appalachians, to the CA mountains, I am fortunate and grateful to capture some amazing scenes. Sunset seat is located just north of San Diego, and on our last night in CA, Kasey wanted to check off jumping in the Pacific ocean from her bucket list. Once she did, we made our way up to this spectacular vista. The low clouds provided an amazing backdrop as a southbound Surfliner cruised by in a beautiful golden hour scene. These are the nights that make us all existentially happy as photographers, bearing witness to these amazing scenes, so we can tell the story.
This photo was taken by Sophie, during her recent visit to this wonderfully sprawling philosophy bookshop in Rome, Italy.
Sophie tells me that "the bookshop's resident cat was very helpful and recommends Kierkegaard for existential crises".
It's the same frame, but I pulled out some Retrobrom paper from the closet that's been sitting there for about five years
Foma Retrobrom 151 in Moersch SE5
A + B + H2O = 40+35+1000
Lith Ī© - 20 sec
Kentmere 400@800 in Ilford Microphen 1+0
š· Holga 120GN
The Drakensberg Mountains are the largest and most impressive Mountain Range in Southern Africa. They constitute a 'natural' border between South Africa and Lesotho, and majestically straddle both countries. They are renowned for their multiple microclimates and for their spectacular summer thunderstorms. The Lesotho highlands which they surround are critical to the provision of water to Gauteng and the Highveld- including Johannesburg, the economic epicentre of sub-Saharan Africa. Theoretically, the greater Johannesburg-Gauteng industrial and postindustrial megalopolis should not exist - but the combination of ingenious hydraulic engineering and water affairs planning on the one hand, and natural bounty from Lesotho on the other renders this vast, dry, megalopolis (sometimes a little precariously!) viable. Good summer rainfall is existentially imperative.
Something as small as a morning sunrise is enough to make a day. My life is the sum of its small occurrences me thinks--some are more influential than others.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
"Jyoti C. Singh Deo is a Bangalore-based multi-disciplinary artist. Her solo show titled "Existential Dichotomy" is a mirror to the stark realities of life. "
www.instagram.com/p/CAC1X7foDp4/
it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ettore_Sottsass
DerniĆØre photo de la journĆ©e-Chez mon styliste personnel
Trying on dresses by designer Barbara Berghino / essayer les robes de la crƩatrice Barbara Berghino
How Do You Keep the Music Playing
RetardĆ© suite au gel de certains aiguillages Ć la sortie du Pont Victoria, le CN 529 (NS 31T/CPKC 929) vient de traverser le Canal Lachine et roule Ć vive allure en direction du triage de Taschereau avec une EMD SD70ACC en tĆŖte. MĆŖme si une vingtaine de secondes māont suffit pour photographier le train, mes mains se sont gelĆ©es et jāai du serrer les dents jusquāĆ la station de mĆ©tro pour me rĆ©chauffer et me poser des questions existentielles.
Delayed following frozen switches just out of the Victoria Bridge, CN 529 (NS 31T/CPKC 929) has just crossed the Lachine Canal and runs at track speed towards Taschereau yard with an EMD SD70ACC leader. Even though it only took me about twenty seconds to catch the train, my hands froze and I had to grit my teeth until I got to the metro station to warm up and ask myself some existential questions.