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The term despair, when used by existentialists, refers to the fact that all the choices we make are based on uncertain information and an incomplete understanding of the world.
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I’d just nodded off when I heard the phone barking excitedly at me. And although it’s set to silent mode from 11pm each night, a few close family members such as my son are able to get hold of me in the small hours - just in case of emergencies. I’m not sure exactly where a sighting of the Northern Lights over his home in Wadebridge ranks on the grand scale of existential crises, but living this far south in the UK, it’s certainly a very rare event. I blinked at my phone, cursed quietly when I saw the hour, and peered through the bedroom window into the inky night. No Aurora here, at least not that I could see. Not even the merest shimmer of green.
For a while I lay awake, feeling the aching muscles that had carried me through five a side football just a few hours earlier. Quite what I think I’m achieving by continuing to play twice a week with less than two years to go until I reach sixty is anyone’s guess, but despite the tired limbs and the fact that several of the regulars are younger than my tracksuit bottoms and my white Paris St Germain top, I’m still loving it too much to give up just yet. When we returned from lockdown three years ago, almost all of the old gang retired within a few months, leaving just a very small rump of us fifty-somethings with the vacancies filled by a glut of youngsters. And now, into the first hours of Saturday, I lay in bed in the darkness feeling no urge whatsoever to go out and explore. Besides which I’d had a large whisky after dinner - so driving anywhere was out of the question.
The next morning I awoke to a steady stream of images on social media, showing me exactly what I’d missed. And I’m not just talking about your carefully composed works of art here, but phone snaps from friends, stumbling about in their gardens after midnight, trying not to fall into the goldfish pond as they stood in wonderment under a colourful night sky such as they’d never seen before. You’ve all seen those images - many of you have taken them too so I don’t need to go any further. I looked at the app to see a riot of red banners with ever increasing numbers next to them. Later, the weather forecaster said it was the biggest solar storm in twenty-one years, yet I’d missed it. I really should have paid more attention to the news bulletin earlier that night. With clear skies, something special had been on the cards and I’d ignored it in favour of a generous single malt to soften the after effects of chasing round a sports hall trying to keep up with the opposition, some of them young enough to be my grandsons.
Later on Saturday Ali and I headed down to Godrevy to meet one of you for the very first time. Christine was here with her husband Dave to shoot the sea thrift, although it seemed they were probably here a weekend too early. They too had witnessed the previous night’s spectacle, as I soon saw on the back of Christine’s camera. “Where had I been?” Suffering then - and suffering the ignominy of missing it ever since, came the answer. Seriously, it’s at moments like these when you question your commitment to this hobby. I’m sure I could have hobbled over to the woods across the road and found something to shoot my aurora with. There are plenty of old mining ruins around here for starters.
And so on Sunday morning, once again in the small hours, I looked at the app, which had by now been buffering since tea time. Yet although the red flags were no longer playing, I was still receiving red alerts on the hour. I looked out of the window at the sky and could see the stars. And as fortune only favours the ones who actually get out there, I set off for Wheal Coates to enjoy an hour of underachievement in the pitch black night. I couldn’t see a thing, and though my camera was picking up the purples in the sky, the episode was doomed. A little after 3am, I headed back to the car, telling myself there would be more opportunities, even if I am at a point in life that I’m no longer sure I can wait another twenty-one years.
So from me at least, nothing speaks more plainly of failure this week than my posting an image that isn’t of the Aurora. But I can at least congratulate those of you who did manage to capture the lights, and it does give me the most tenuous of excuses to share this one from last winter. More glorious light, albeit western light rather than the magic of the north. Next time, I’ll stay away from the Scotch and make sure I’m there alongside you to capture one of nature’s greatest shows.
Here's Christine's photo, taken about half a mile along the beach from here: www.flickr.com/photos/christine192/53715593422/in/datepos...
Together/apart--the method of modern love. Or maybe just one of many methods.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
2006 was my first time walking the trails above a friend's home in Ben Lomond, CA. It was a magical experience. It remains embedded in my senses... the soft air on my skin, the loamy smell rising with every step, the birdsongs and rustle of furry beings, that feeling of being surrounded by beauty beyond comprehension, wanting to hold on to it, but knowing existentially that was impossible.
I believed it was only the moment I could not keep... that everything would remain to return to and enjoy.
And, now, in a flash, all this may be gone. Seventy miles away, safe in my suburban home, I can smell the trees burning. I can see the orange of their embers stain the sky an alien color.
I cry for the wildlife. I cry for my friends not knowing if their home, one that has been in their family through generations, still stands.
I look at my snapshots, remembering that, at the time, I thought I can always go back and take better photos with a better camera and, then, never doing it.
The lesson is, there may never be a next time.
EDIT: My friends' home miraculously survived. The surrounding forest and most of their neighbors' homes did not.
Cette photo me semblait trop "symbolique" pour être mise de côté.
Et alors que les interrogations de ce badaud face à la vitrine de ce bar/tabac/presse nous restent inconnues, certains titres et stickers affichés semblent se batailler : entre mal et remède... Ou entre angoisse réelle et élixir de colporteur douteux...
I met two aliens today. I was in the middle of nowhere when I spotted them approaching. "Hiya!" I said, "I didn't expect to see you here today!"
"Well..." started one of the aliens to the other, "We were just saying the same thing, when we saw you!"
"Aye, right, so what brings you here then?" I said.
"Och, we just took a ride oot, and decided to see where our space craft would take us. We're on a mission to find another habitable planet"
I must admit I was somewhat surprised by this, if not already slightly amazed by bumping into two travelling spacemen. "So, where are you from?" I queried, "and where did you get the fake Scots inflection?"
"Well, we come from far, far away. we've been picking up your weird messages and signs intended for extra terrestrials for some time, telling us where you are. And we listen to BBC Alba: very funny! Make us laugh like Cadbury's Smash" www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4MTgjNkfyI
"But you won't want our planet: we have so many problems! We have an existential threat from climate change! We will all die. We have protesters: Just Stop Oil, they say or we will die a horrible death".
The two aliens, suddenly changed, taken slightly aback. One of them said, the weirder looking one, "Oh, I'm sorry. They are not your people. They are our people, aliens like us. They were already causing problems for us and we put them on your earth just to cause problems. You see, we want your planet. We are too cold, we want a warmer planet, like your's. These people we sent to your planet who now protest, only a short time ago were protesting on our planet, shouting "I'm fffffing freezing. Trump more CO2". But no one wants to do it. Everyone is vegan, it's a disaster. We want your planet. Our leaders have plans to remove you from Earth and send you all to another place"
This was all a bit bizarre. "B-But" I blurted, "Everything is so shit here. No one has a clue how to fix our world, and our experts and leaders are useless. We are doomed!"
"Naw! said the slightly less ugly alien. "Don't believe a word the experts say! They are also aliens that we put amongst you, so that your will to live would diminish and you would happily allow yourselves to be transported elsewhere. Have no fear. Electric cars: rubbish. Net zero carbon: complete tosh. Covid: a bit of flu. All will work out ok. We already have all the solutions to your problems: we just can't fix our own! Fly all you like, eat what you want. Ignore the influencers, the vegans, woke teachers, the deviants.....all freaks and weirdos. You've already got the best planet. We wish ours could be like yours. In fact I think we will just make it our home, with you. We can help you save your planet without all that Just Stop Oil, Woke tosh. Please, can you take us to your leader?"
have I ever mentioned how much I love thistles and the beauty of their design? Must be one more reason why I love Scotland so much :)
This expressionist photo depicts a distorted and fragmented figure, conveying a sense of isolation and anguish. The blurred and obscured features of the model's face, as well as the contorted positioning of their hands, evoke a sense of emotional turmoil and inner conflict. The obscured identity of the subject in the photo, coupled with their closed eyes and obscured face, adds to the enigmatic quality of the photo. The high contrast between light and shadow, as well as the soft focus and blurred edges, contribute to the overall mood of unease and intensity. The photo is intended to leave the viewer with a sense of ambiguity, uncertainty, and existential angst.
- Cardiacs - Is This The Life?
Following around to see a life that's never in
Always calling itself on its own phone
Though it's never quite at home in the world today
See it to arranging the day
Prepared in its own
Special way
With added loving care
THOUGH IT'S NOT BEEN THERE SINCE YESTERDAY
Looking so hard for a cause
And it don't care what it is
And never really ever seeing eye to eye
Though it doesn't really mind
Perhaps that's why
It never really saw
Never really saw...
Saw...
When you feel a warm coffee breeze and hear laughter skidding across the table, that’s my kink. I’m dropping caffeinated garbage into my failing corpse to help nature with the deterioration. Excuse me if i’m antisocial. But still. Wanna come over and have an existential crisis together? Extinction protocol dream portal 1.
Invisible Reality - Parallel Fantasy
There’s a quiet ache that lives in all of us - a longing not just to be seen, but to be known. It’s the ache of walking through the world with stories tucked behind our ribs, hoping someone might ask the kind of question that unlocks them. It’s the ache of laughter that almost covers the loneliness, of strength that hides the softness we wish someone would touch gently.
And then there’s the awe.
The awe of connection. Of finding someone who doesn’t flinch at our truth. Who hears the tremble in our voice and leans in, not away. It’s the awe of shared silence, of glances that say more than words, of feeling like we belong - not because we’re perfect, but because we’re real.
To be alive is to carry both: the ache of isolation and the awe of intimacy. We crave closeness not just for comfort, but because it reminds us we’re not alone in our wondering. That someone else is out there, navigating the same questions, feeling the same pull toward meaning.
Intimate connection isn’t just romance or friendship - it’s the sacred exchange of presence. It’s saying, I see you, and hearing, I’m still here. It’s the moment when the ache softens and the awe expands, and we realize that maybe, just maybe, we’re building something beautiful together.
Thursday is my day to meet people for coffee and have discussions. Today's topics seemed to revolve around themes of existential crisis and topics like "Is the constant pursuit of happiness making me sick" and allowing experience to take a central role rather than perfection. Better to have the experience than wait for the perfect moment. I cannot tell you how much I love these talks. So...who can I meet for coffee next? Really.
Join me on my personal website Erik Witsoe or contact me at ewitsoe@gmail.com for cooperation. Thank you.
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...a mysterious intersection of chance and attention that goes well beyond the existential surrealism of the "decisive moment".- Lee Friedlander
Sunrise of 2.14.20 over the scar of an old burn near the Lassen/Plumas County line up the near Antelope Lake in Northern California.
Artistically, the image is created out of an existential craving for beauty - and hence pleasure.
Processing took place entirely with the Artisan Pro X panel. More info on my panel on my website. I've conducted a few live webinars earlier this year on the use of the Artisan Pro panel and actually beyond merely explaining the panel. Much time was also spent on explaining/demonstrating the generic principles behind B&W photography. Those webinars, 6 hours in total, have been recorded and are available, unedited on Youtube: part 1 - beginners and part 2 - Advanced
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I have been off flickr for a few years. I am trying to revive this account in order to better organize, archive my various photography/printing projects. So pardon the “work in progress” as I clean up and get things updated. I’m excited to see everyone’s work again :-D and I hope I will be motivated to keep this up! I’m still on insta, but it just doesn’t cut it when it comes to archives and organization.
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.
Angst
See below in the first comment for the untouched raw file..
I have had this shot in the planning for some time but I have been waiting for the overcasted dead light to get this washed out color. Everything was done in cam. My remote shutter release (Velo) broke down so I had to set it to 10 sec delay and run for it:p Glad there wasnt many around.. Had no tripod so I just placed the cam on the ground and put a lens under the lens..
I have removed 2 items from the building. A cctv and an antenna. White balance and colors were adjusted in Ligthroom. Also adde some contrast and sharpening to get the that clean futuristic look I hope I have gotten..
Inspiration for the pov was stolen from "stoffen", see link below for his shot.. I like it a lot.
I hesitated a lot to find a good title and I came down to a shortlist of:
Angst
Paranoia
Paranoia, the destroyer
The truth is in there
After you
Any tip on a good title is very welcome.
****
Update: I know see a different take on this shot as pointed out from the comments down below..
The title should be: Can you give me a hand please?
As this guy (me) is trying to move the box and not hiding from demons (wich was what I tried to look like).
Haha...
*****
Angst means fear or anxiety (anguish is its Latinate equivalent, and anxious, anxiety are of similar origin). The word angst was introduced into English from the Danish and Dutch word angst and the German word Angst. It is attested since the 19th century in English translations of the works of Kierkegaard and Freud. It is used in English to describe an intense feeling of apprehension, anxiety, or inner turmoil.
In German, the technical terminology of psychology and philosophy distinguishes between Angst and Furcht in that Furcht is a negative anticipation regarding a concrete threat, while Angst is a non-directional and unmotivated emotion. In common language, however, Angst is the normal word for "fear", while Furcht is an elevated synonym.
In other languages having the meaning of the Latin word pavor, the derived words differ in meaning, e.g. as in the French anxiété and peur. The word Angst has existed since the 8th century, from the Proto-Indo-European root *anghu-, "restraint" from which Old High German angust developed. It is pre-cognate with the Latin angustia, "tensity, tightness" and angor, "choking, clogging"; compare to the Ancient Greek ἄγχω (ankho) "strangle".
In Existentialist philosophy the term angst carries a specific conceptual meaning. The use of the term was first attributed to Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard (1813–1855). In The Concept of Anxiety (also known as The Concept of Dread, depending on the translation), Kierkegaard used the word Angest (in common Danish, angst, meaning "dread" or "anxiety") to describe a profound and deep-seated condition. Where animals are guided solely by instinct, said Kierkegaard, human beings enjoy a freedom of choice that we find both appealing and terrifying. Kierkegaard's concept of angst reappeared in the works of existentialist philosophers who followed, such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Jean-Paul Sartre and Martin Heidegger, each of whom developed the idea further in individual ways. While Kierkegaard's angst referred mainly to ambiguous feelings about moral freedom within a religious personal belief system, later existentialists discussed conflicts of personal principles, cultural norms, and existential despair.
existential joy…
life's impertinent quaver
between stone and sky
Twenty-second in the series ‘Wild Bonsai’, this tree is fifty-five inches (1.4m) in height and perhaps 750 years old.
'Wild Bonsai' is a numbered collection of photos of naturally occurring bristlecones (p. longaeva) generally less than five feet in height (1.5m) and - as nearly as I can estimate - between fifty and five-hundred years old - some much older. Most will have sprouted and survived in tiny cracks and crevases or miniature basins of sand and gravel. Shaped by the elements, flourishing tenaciously in the most minimalist of conditions, their lives are measured not in the millennia of more robust bristlecones, but in centuries...often mere decades.
'Duality', the cover photo for this album, is to me a matriarch of sorts and will remain unnumbered as a small token of a deeply intuitive and unapologetic respect that remains as transcendent and mysterious to me as it may seem odd to others. The essay that accompanies 'Duality' could, in many ways, apply as well to any other tree I may post in this series.
A perspective: Housed in the Tokyo Imperial Palace, the fifth oldest living cultivated bonsai in the world is something over 500 years old and is a designated National Treasure of Japan.
our brain collecting information to compare with our guidelines to make sense.
According the online information,
thought encompasses a flow of ideas and associations that can lead to logical conclusions. Although thinking is an activity of an existential value for humans, there is still no consensus as to how it is adequately defined or understood.
Textures by Cris Buscaglia Lenz :: www.flickr.com/photos/crisbuscagliacom/ and Leo Bar.
Inspired by Lois Greenfield dance photographs.
When I reflect on the pressures of my younger years, they all point to one thing. Time management. Never enough time to do the things I really wanted to do and lots of pressure to do things I didn't want to do. Such was, and still is, life in corporate America.
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio 2.0 and Lightroom Classic.
—K.T. Jong
Back to the daily grind.
I have had a number of existential realizations on my break...or, really, re-realizations about what is important in life, and the things I must do to live a life I am proud of.
That said, I have a new portfolio website up!
Explore
#28
The early morning news brought in by the waking Sun
as if nothing ever changed
as if everything has now changed
for the better, one's hopes may yet rest upon
these very trying times
their ambivalence steers a rough course upon which to tread-on
as if giving it a go is worth it's weight in gold
turning a blind eye would be a fool's paradise
it's element of surprise still glistens;
a gift-wrapped morning
a gilt-edged opportunistic dream
it's legacy is reality's warning
stand to the attention of Nature's roll-call!
endemic in our genes is the fickle fashion of common sense
in need of topping-up, upgrading, purchasing beyond the means by fad of brand
is this what we've come to??
losing our responsibility under bane of freedom's lost
our fight is now one of existential renew
sometimes it seems that nobody even listens
because no-one ever speaks
and yet if you light a candle, we all seem to agree
under one notion of elemental being
our policy makers really are expendable,
but we are not...the only ones this flame is freeing
it's a tale of fortitude against the slavery of the Soul
corporate chaining offers us a defenceless all-consuming 'will'
written long before we begin to see out our days
but such overnight grabbing offers a gleaning of truth;
an insight into the overextended arm of greed
whilst we retain the Spring of Youth
it matters not the lay of your hinterland
whether nautical or conto(u)rtional
we all steer a natural course of human emotion
our dreams converse with our routines, and vice versa
only our understanding lags behind-
all of Nature's signs, the multifarious Universal precursor.
by anglia24
09h30: 14/04/2008
©2008anglia24
Oddyssey - 2005 is the title of the commissioned mural at the new University Hall, build to celebrate the Singapore’s National University Centennial. Measuring 110 sqm and realized in glazed stoneware, it is Delia’s largest ceramic mural, executed as a continuous composition, which was conceived as an integrated artwork for the new building’s architecture as a functional, "cascading wall". It is an interpretation of a timeless and universal theme- the perpetual journey followed by the eternal return to home, the process of maturation trough sacrifices, struggle and aspiration. The large scale of the mural allowed for the creation of an allegoric, symbolic space which is able to convey the message of conquering the unknown and the pleasure and satisfaction of adventure and discovery. The water, in its dramatic transformation, from quiet river or waterfall to open sea or turbulent ocean is used as a metaphor for the shaping, learning and development process students encounter since their early age to their adult life. The water, as a source of life, is the physical and existential medium for all natural growth as much as schools and university in all human societies are the source of knowledge and spiritual nurturing, inspiration and sublime intellectual achievements.
Still from the ongoing Existential Production of my life—an unedited reel that unspools like a Faulkner novel gone slightly feral, all run-on sentences and commas scattered like confetti, dashes crowding out the margins, parentheses opening and closing in places where no parentheses should logically be (if logic has anything to do with it), periods appearing late or not at all. One continuous monologue, breathless and unending, with the occasional still-frame—snapped at random intervals—to prove that this whole improbable production is in fact happening.
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Nikkormat FT
Nikkor 50 mm f1.1,4
Kodak Ektrachrom
Lab processed
Scanned and edited by me
Before I even began contemplating being a vegetarian, I remember as a child looking at the struggling lobsters and other trapped fish in these holding cells at markets and restaurants and I remember feeling so sad and identifying with these writhing beings, struggling in anguish at this point of their futile existence. And I remember thinking….is this life? And we are just supposed to eat them? I found out much later when I was in my 20s that I was allergic to most seafood, not that it mattered. I think I might also be little allergic to suffering. It seems to impact me in a different way than other people. It’s hard for me to breathe just thinking about all of the pain world wide.
So, I see this little girl clutching her stuffed animal with this look of shock, revelation, and revulsion on her face and, though this is far from a perfect photograph in many ways, I can so relate to that look.
When I was seven or eight, I also visited Red Lobster for the first time in my life. My mom, a seafood fanatic at the time (she’s now a vegetarian), really felt like if I just tried it, I would like it. But, I saw that lobster and locked myself in the bathroom, having the first panic attack of my life. That existential dread was going nowhere and I refused to come out until she promised to take me home. I rarely ever “got my way” when I was a child but my mom figured out pretty quickly that she didn’t want to visit me several years later as a seriously malnourished 30 year old, eating only crumbs of biscuits other restroom goers were willing to feed me every now and then.
**All photos are copyrighted. You can have my panic attack, though**
The coracle fishermen lead a tenous existence of great hardship.
Fishing in their unwieldy round boats (coracles), they eke out a truly existential life for themselves.
This is right outside the house at about 9 AM today.
DSC_1177 nero exp copy
Of course, one of the main legitimate functions of thought has always been to help provide security, guaranteeing shelter and food for instance. However, this function went wrong when the principal source of insecurity came to be the operation of thought itself. (- David Bohm)
So here we all are, still in our matrix that we expereince as our "own" life, limited to 3 dimensions, lending parts of the same energy. Are we not the same?
I AM NOT I
I am not I.
I am this one
Walking beside me whom I do not see,
Whom at times I manage to visit,
And at other times I forget.
The one who remains silent when I talk,
The one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
The one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
The one who will remain standing when I die.
Juan Ramon Jimenez
If you visit Whitemill Bay, with the exception of North Ronaldsay, there is nothing but open sea until you arrive at Shetland. The Northerly wilderness and the deserted bay bring home the feral expanse of the Northern Isles and a trajectory towards the Faroe's, Iceland, Jan Mayen and the Arctic Circle.
Whitemill Bay is eerily beautiful, the patterns of the untouched slate that are prevalent across the bay, the white sands and the deep, variegated hues of the ocean inspire awe and evoke a feeling of alienation that is redolent of human disparity with nature. Paradoxically, the beauty of the bay evokes a profound calmness that, for me, is an expression of the existential link between human beings and nature. However. I acknowledge that the bifurcation between man and nature is arbitrary.
There was no human presence during my visit, the only other creatures I observed were a splattering of Sea Gulls in the near distance, baying and shrieking like some kind of Jurassic animal! The natural light appeared to be filtered through the dramatic cloud forms that threatened storms, despite the warm, sunny conditions. Rainbow-like colours hung in the air, giving a subtle colouration and the graphic hues of the rocks, sea and sand seemed to create a painting that was yet to be painted!
Simon
Orkney Isle's, Scotland.