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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.
Title: The Final Voyage of the Trawler Hawser and the Rusty Old Shackle
Once upon a briny dusk in the forgotten harbor of Crumpet’s Cove, an aging trawler named Hawser stirred from a decades-long nap. Her hull groaned like a grandmother with gout, barnacles clinging to her underbelly like stubborn regrets.
Beside her, hanging limply from a creaking bollard, was Shackle—a rusty, irritable hunk of iron with a temper like a wet matchstick and a voice like someone gargling gravel and moonshine.
"I’ve been thinking," muttered Hawser, her anchor winch twitching with vague purpose, "what if we just... left?"
Shackle squinted. “Left? We’re antiques, Hawser. Artifacts. Fish laugh at us. Seagulls use my eyelet as a public restroom.”
“Exactly,” said Hawser with a glint in her fog-light. “Let’s go out not as scrap, but as legends. One last voyage—for self-discovery!”
Shackle spat out a fleck of rust. “You’ve been listening to the tide-poets again, haven’t you?”
But deep down—beneath the barnacles and the tetanus—they both yearned for something more. Something wet and dramatic.
With a wheeze, a belch of diesel, and an illegal amount of enthusiasm, Hawser heaved herself off the dock. The ropes gave way with a theatrical snap, and Shackle clanged into place like a rusty exclamation mark.
They sailed into the open sea, where waves greeted them with surprise and mild concern.
“Where to?” asked Shackle, now vibrating slightly with existential dread.
“North-by-northeast-by-chaos,” said Hawser. “We follow the jellyfish. They know things.”
Three days in, they found a floating disco run by philosophical squid. Shackle got in a dance-off with a bioluminescent cuttlefish named Kevin and realized he’d been clenching his metaphorical jaw for 43 years. Hawser learned how to feel the ocean, instead of just floating above it. She cried bilge water for the first time since '79.
They sailed further.
They survived a romantic entanglement with a lovesick lighthouse, narrowly avoided being recruited into a pirate-themed reality show, and at one point, accidentally entered a whale’s book club. (Moby-Dick was panned.)
At the edge of the world—a place cartographers refuse to acknowledge due to tax reasons—they met The Great Crustacean, a sentient lobster the size of a small village, who challenged them to a riddle contest.
Shackle won by accident when he sneezed out a bolt that landed perfectly in the lobster’s weak spot. Hawser screamed, “THIS IS WHAT GROWTH FEELS LIKE!” and accidentally triggered her emergency foghorn, summoning every sea creature within 50 nautical miles.
Together, the duo was declared “Honorary Ocean Elders” and gifted a sash made entirely of kelp and unsolicited advice.
They never returned to Crumpet’s Cove.
Some say Hawser became a floating spa for therapy seals.
Others claim Shackle was last seen hosting a podcast about corrosion and emotional vulnerability.
All we know is, somewhere out there on the misty blue, a trawler and a shackle are still discovering themselves—and possibly reinventing maritime jazz.
Fin. And some people about Ai taking their jobs
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?"
CARETAKING/INTERSPACES The Weird And The Eerie/fluctuating networks of existential events : Photographic pathologies of alterity
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...
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.
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**
Tonight Ukraine stands alone, but it has never had more friends. However too many of those 'friends' are cowed by timidity, greed and sloth. NATO stands at the door, unable to assist for fear of an existential war for the world. Whilst Britain supplied 2000 of the latest NLAW and even more Javelin anti-tank missiles, and demanded extreme European sanctions on Russia Germany supplied 5000 helmets. Only late today has it agreed to supply 1000 obsolete anti-tank weapons and 500 Javelins. Apparently it is now considering agreeing to Russia being blocked from the SWIFT banking system. Belgium wanted sanctions to exclude diamonds. Italy wanted luxury goods such as Gucci loafers and handbags excluded from sanctions. Where are their morals? Can they even be trusted as NATO members? Would they fight at all in defence of another NATO member? with handbags? In the face of an existential threat to another democratic European country they have shown themselves to be feeble, selfish, slow and unreliable, and almost useless in the defence of freedom and democracy. As we all watch the news we see citizens of a country where they stare in the face a terrible threat to their own survival, pride, patriotism, determination and a desire for right to prevail over evil. I think Ukraine are winning the right to be good members of the EU and NATO.
Russia and all its people will suffer unprecedented sanctions from all round the world. Manchester United have cancelled Aeroflot sponsorship. Poland and Sweden are refusing to play Russia in World Cup qualifying games, Russian F1 Grand Prix cancelled, Russian private aircraft and airliners are banned from flying over many parts of the world. Visas cancelled. Banks blocked. The Rouble in freefall. Champion's League final taken away from St Petersburg. Bolshoi Ballet cancelled. Russia banned from Eurovision Song Contest, Kremlin website taken off-line, Russian ships taken into custody. peace, stop the war, protests in Moscow and around the world, ............the world is not happy with Russia! Even China is distancing itself from what Russia has done....what Putin has done in all Russian's names. You are pariah's of the world. Putin has stolen your future.
Putin will be defeated by his own greed and stupidity. Viva 🇺🇦 No surrender!
The philosopher Friedrich Nietzche spent seven wonderful summers on these trails, the most productive period of his life. I found his ideas a bit disturbing yet they keep on grasping at my consciousness. These huge mountains remind me of our insignificance. Yet, they also possess the explanations of our existential dilemma as Nietzche may have seen. At least, that's how I see it when I also put my feet on these trails.
The beech leaves are coming out. Tried to match with this photo my contemplative mood.
These are times where perseverance is more important than ever. This is easier with a purpose. It creates meaning, as reflecting on life creates meaning. Life is inherently meaningful, it does not matter which purpose one follow, as long as one follows it and this purpose is in accordance with a virtuous live.
Living a creative and compassionate life is meaningful. Enjoyment of beauty, art and nature is meaningful. Perseverance in the face of suffering is meaningful.
Living in awareness is meaningful. Going with the flow is meaningful.
The saying I have chosen belongs to the 6th-century Chinese sage Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching.
the most golden of all sunrises I've ever witnessed in my life, right over the Norwegian Sea. A moment to remember :)
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.
I spent a morning in Roseville last week waiting for Marg to finish up with an outpatient foot surgery. Roseville is a large sprawling city with its roots as a bedroom community to nearby Sacramento. I drove around a bit and true to my nature was drawn to the less attractive side of town--the railroad yard. I'm sure there's an existential reason for this--kind of like thinking about thinking about how your thoughts tend to randomly intersect.
Roseville CA
Kent Monkman derived the title of his piece from the iconic portrait of the same name by Norwegian painter Edvard Munch (1863–1944). Like Munch, Monkman harnesses the universal language of anguish to create an image of terror that reverberates beyond the canvas. Monkman’s work also calls to mind Irish-British painter Francis Bacon (1909–1992), whose image of a distorted Pope Innocent X embodies the idea of power twisted into cruelty, a critique of institutions—the church and the state—that have so often perpetuated violence. But while Munch and Bacon express existential dread, Monkman grounds his scream in lived intergenerational trauma, transforming modernist symbols of despair into a searing indictment of colonial violence.
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.
where once fruitful soil
and profound sky and earth's thrum
now but futile shards
and frail grasp of meager cleft
through merciless time
Solastalgia: “ …a form of emotional or existential distress caused by environmental change.”
*in explore
a fleeting silhouette climbs into the light, framed by brutalist curves and the hush of concrete. the world below watches in shadow, as if remembering a dream it never lived.
“A horse is a horse, of course, of course…”
Which, in classical epistemology, is precisely the kind of dangerously deterministic axiom that quantum mechanics once politely asked us to stop saying out loud.
Here we have a properly structured test image: clear subject, stable composition, respectable lighting conditions, and two horses contributing more gravitas than most peer review committees combined.
I had naively assumed that soul, focus, timing, and subject matter might constitute a persuasive argument.
This was adorable.
⸻
1. The Physical System: ECC-1
These two equine subjects currently exist in a rigorously stable state of ontological obviousness.
In the literature, this is formally defined as:
Equus Certus Condition (ECC-1)
“A state in which the object is so clearly itself that even philosophy stops arguing.”
Under ECC-1, a horse is, in fact, a horse. No ambiguity. No interpretive wiggle room. No existential loopholes.
Naturally, this is where things begin to go wrong.
⸻
2. The Measurement Problem: POAIT
Explore, however, operates under a different framework entirely.
This is known as:
Post-Observational Aesthetic Indeterminacy Theory (POAIT)
POAIT states that:
An image does not have a value.
It waits for one.
Within this regime, a photograph may exist simultaneously as:
- selected
- unselected
- and “we’ll think about it later, maybe after coffee”
until the Algorithm performs a measurement event.
At that moment, reality collapses into a single outcome, usually involving something like a perfectly composed, technically excellent photograph of two horses being quietly outperformed by a heavily motion-blurred image of a pigeon aggressively attacking a traffic cone while accidentally achieving Renaissance lighting and being titled “untitled_7_final_FINAL(2).jpg.”
⸻
3. The Explore Manifold Problem
This leaves us with a fundamental paradox:
Is this image overlooked?
Or is it, in a deeper sense, too coherent to be processed?
Current theory suggests the system is navigating a high-dimensional structure known as the:
Explore Manifold of Controlled Absurdity
In this space, meaning is not rewarded.
Instead, meaning is treated as a suspicious outlier.
⸻
4. Competing Hypotheses (None Survived Peer Review)
The causal trigger for selection has not been isolated, but several models are under consideration:
- stochastic resonance in recommendation space-time
- non-linear chaos propagation across engagement manifolds
- a hidden Markov process exhibiting emotional instability
- planetary retrograde interference (Mercury behaving like it has admin access)
- and a single geriatric CERN hamster maintaining legacy infrastructure with what can only be described as “vibe-based engineering”
None of these models has been falsified, primarily because the system refuses to behave consistently long enough to run a proper experiment.
⸻
5. Empirical Anomaly: The Untitled Event
Meanwhile, within the Explore manifold, a photograph titled “Untitled”—containing approximately 14% recycling bin and 86% unresolved existential ambiguity—has achieved full quantum aesthetic elevation.
This state was previously considered theoretical.
It is now, unfortunately, operational.
⸻
6. The Horses Respond
The two Eds have conducted a formal review of the available data.
Ed 1 supports the hypothesis that Schrödinger was not merely correct, but conservatively optimistic.
Ed 2 proposes a more radical model:
that Schrödinger’s cat was not a thought experiment at all, but an early prototype of the Explore ranking algorithm.
Both hypotheses were withdrawn after peer review collapsed into a single blurry image of an elbow accompanied by the comment:
“methodology unclear, vibes acceptable.”
⸻
7. Conclusion
The Eds have reached a consensus:
Explore is not a system.
It is a live experiment in quantum irony, where coherence is a liability and randomness is a credential.
They remain fascinated.
Not because they understand it.
But because nothing this inconsistent should be this certain.
⸻
“A horse is a horse, of course, of course…”
But under POAIT, however that statement remains under active review.
…….
Αμηχανία–Amechania
What ἀμηχανία means
This is not uncertainty.
It is not ambiguity either.
It is ἀμηχανία.
In ancient Greek, ἀμηχανία means: having no means left—no way forward, no method that still works, and no remaining procedure that can produce a solution.
So the key difference is:
- Confusion: you don’t understand what is happening.
- Ambiguity: multiple interpretations are still possible.
- ἀμηχανία: interpretation itself has stopped being useful.
It is not that we cannot choose.
It is that there is no longer a meaningful basis for choosing at all.
What this looks like in practice
In ἀμηχανία, everything may still appear normal.
The system still runs.
The data is still there.
The options are still visible.
But none of it leads anywhere.
- Explanations exist, but they no longer explain.
- Causes can be described, but they no longer organize what we see.
- Observations remain clear, but they do not resolve into understanding or action.
So the situation is not chaotic. It is worse than chaos in a specific way:
It is stable, but non-resolvable.
How this differs from confusion and ambiguity
Confusion is temporary: it ends when understanding arrives.
Ambiguity is productive: it allows multiple readings to coexist.
ἀμηχανία is different from both:
- It is not a lack of understanding.
- It is not a surplus of meanings.
- It is the point where meaning stops producing consequences.
Nothing is hidden. Nothing is unclear.
And yet nothing can be concluded.
System interpretation
In system terms, ἀμηχανία is not a failure state.
It is a completed transformation of the system’s purpose.
The system does not break.
It continues to function correctly.
But it no longer produces decisions, preferences, or outcomes that matter.
In this sense, Explore does not simply fail to choose.
It reaches a deeper condition:
the conditions required for choice are no longer active.
Conclusion
The Eds’ assessment is no longer tentative.
Under POAIT, the system has reached a stable endpoint:
a state of ἀμηχανία in which everything can still be seen, but nothing can be resolved.
Explore does not end in confusion.
It ends in the quiet realization that confusion is no longer doing any work.
Or, under POAIT, are provisionally believed to approve pending further measurement.
——————
———
IPY 💕Sunny Side
It was full moon yesterday, and because it coincided with the moon at its closest position to earth, the full moon showed 7% larger than average.
Looking at the sky last night, my thoughts dreamt away. Existential questions. Why is the universe organized as it is? Planets, moons, stars, galaxies. Formed by the law of nature, but are other forms of organisation possible as well? And is our planet the only one with life? If so, why are the other celestial objects existing? If not, how will life on other planets look like? Similar as ours, or organized differently?
The universe seems to follow strict mechanical rules, while this still leads to diversity and chaos on every scale. What does that mean for our own free will? Is it really free, or is it only a product of this mechanical chaos as well, and ergo deterministic?
Questions to dream about, without finding definite answers. Perhaps that is what keeps us moving. If we would knew it all, what would be left to dream about?
HSS!
ODC - Theme (20-06-2013): The big question
Silders Sunday (23-06-2013)
EXPLORE (23-06-2013)
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
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.
A solitary figure stands where rock meets sea, confronting the vast horizon without promise of reply. Not serenity but the raw tension of existence—alienation sharpened into defiance, solitude carved into symbol. Here, the world is indifferent, the sea restless, the rocks unyielding. Yet in the act of standing, the figure affirms a fragile freedom: to face the void, to remain, to choose.
Life doesn't have to be one big existential crisis after another. It's like any other job. You get two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour for lunch.
When existential mist drapes the immediate world in a layer of mystery
The rising sun sheds it's morning light
Reveals what matters and begins to solve the mystery
Paddling my canoe often provides me with answers
Lyrics and music that answer the enigna can be heard in the link below
Melody Gardot & Philippe Powell - Plus Fort Que Nous
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECuKTK1Tnk8&list=RDpCX3JtxzxI...
Stay blessed
g
Oslo's Frognerparken is known by tourists as Vigeland Park, after the early 20th century artist Gustav Vigeland, who with a few sculptors created an installation of over 200 statues and other works in granite and bronze, mostly human figures in all states of life and attitude. It is epic, existential, and unique. I had photographed it once before many years ago, in daylight and warm weather, so it was interesting on my recent visit to see it at dusk in winter. Some of the figures are lit by stylised electric lights that are part of the installation, and their warm colour made strong contrasts with the freezing conditions, as well as revealing the textures of the granite and bronze in human form. I'll post some more over the next few weeks.
My favourite city walk, the green tunnel that follows the chalk stream, which is a conduit for so much wildlife. Sometimes you won't see any animals, but other times you can see kingfishers, little egrets, water rails, grass snakes, water voles, muntjac deer, foxes and many other species. We are very lucky to have it, and take part in the regular clear-ups of the rubbish that either blows in or gets callously dumped there. This threat is dwarfed however by the existential one posed by over abstraction of water from the springs that supply it; our water supply must be managed for people and environment first, and private profit second.
Henri, le Chat Noir: The Existential Musings of an Angst-Filled Cat by William Braden
Gift Shop, West Building, National Gallery of Art
Washington DC
2 Jan 2026
Darker Regions...
I am alone lost trembling, confused my body turned upside down restricted blinded in darkness tears unseen cries unheard . I am lost forgotten dehumanised, none existential. A voice called out to me in the darkness to bring me hope and carried me home as l dreamt myself back into my innerworld in dawns light.
I am thinking about the struggles women and children are faced with every day who are bravely fighting for their freedom and rights and hope they are soon liberated and live life in freedom and peace soon. Prayers that all remaining hostages of Israel are safe soon brought home to their families' loved ones. ️🙏
#feminists#feminisim#womenempowerment#painting#art#artist#nature#expressionist #painting #artist #fineart #love #newyork#acrylicpainting #artwork #artworldly #artistsoninstagram #newyorkartist #artofinstagram #expression #expressionism #abstract #originalart #design #artstudio#blue #impressionism#collageart #loveart#night
We operate exclusively with things that do not exist, with lines, surfaces, bodies, atoms, divisible time spans, divisible spaces—how could explanations be possible at all when we initially turn everything into images, into our images!
[Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), German philosopher, classical scholar, critic of culture. Friedrich Nietzsche, Sämtliche Werke: Kritische Studienausgabe, vol. 3, p. 473, eds. Giorgio Colli and Mazzino Montinari, Berlin, de Gruyter (1980). The Gay Science, first edition, "Third Book," aphorism 112 (1882).]
"Among the different types of project, that of bad faith is of generic importance for an existential understanding of what it is to be human. This importance derives ultimately from its ethical relevance. [Jean-Paul] Sartre's analysis of the project of bad faith is grounded in vivid examples. Thus Sartre describes the precise and mannered movements of a cafe waiter. In thus behaving, the waiter is identifying himself with his role as waiter in the mode of being in-itself. In other words, the waiter is discarding his real nature as for-itself ... to adopt that of the in-itself. He is thus denying his transcendence as for-itself in favour of the kind of transcendence characterising the in-itself. In this way, the burden of his freedom, i.e. the requirement to decide for himself what to do, is lifted from his shoulders since his behaviour is as though set in stone by the definition of the role he has adopted.
The mechanism involved in such a project involves an inherent contradiction. Indeed, the very identification at the heart of bad faith is only possible because the waiter is a for-itself, and can indeed choose to adopt such a project. So the freedom of the for-itself is a pre-condition for the project of bad faith which denies it."
University College, London
The Soviet-Afghan War memorial in the Victory Park in Armenia's capital Yevevan. It's located on "Heroes Alley" where Soviet-era war heroes in Afghanistan back to the 1930s are commemorated by name. I can find no more information about it.
3,762 Armenians fought with Soviet forces in Afghanistan and 128 died. Yet it is dwarfed in the Armenian imagination by the wars of independence and the independence era, existential for national survival and, for Armenians, vastly more deadly. The dead of those wars are not commemorated in the Soviet-era Victory Park, but 11 km away at Yerablur.
I cannot even find details of the sculptor of this memorial or its date of construction, although it is well-kept and I do know Armenian veterans of the Soviet-Afghan War hold an annual commemoration here.
Skin retouching totally happened here, without a doubt, as a creative and somewhat existential exercise.
the Scottish Queen apparently is not amused. That's what I like about thistles: their existential stance! :D