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Zoos exist, in part, to educate the public about animal conservation. Here, Jess explains target training to a guest, while Bane stands by, hoping for more food!
You might notice that Jess also has a blue target. That's for Mutant, the female ostrich. Jess noted that ostriches can distinguish those two colors.
The Crawford family first came to Bangor in the early seventeenth century. William Crawford rented the area which became known as Crawfordsburn from Sir James Hamilton. In 1670 the family purchased the estate from the Earl of Clanbrasil. Eventually the estate passed to the Sharman family by marriage in the early nineteenth century.
William Sharman was born in 1781. He was brought up at Moira Castle which his father rented. This house no longer exists. William’s father was a collector of revenue and customs in the Lisburn area, but also owned land in various places, including Rathfriland. William later wrote about his youth, explaining that he was considered a delicate child. He did not go to school and was taught by his father. He was not sent to college either, lest his morals should be corrupted!
In 1805 William married Mabel Crawford of Crawfordsburn. They lived for a time on the family estate in Meath and also in Dublin. In 1826 they were called to Crawfordsburn. Mabel’s father was in his 80s and her brother had been badly injured. It was decided to break the male entail on the estate. When Mr. Crawford died in 1827, William and Mabel became the owners of the Crawfordsburn estate. William adopted the name of Crawford by royal license.
William Sharman Crawford, aged 47, was now the owner of 5,748 acres in County Down at Crawfordsburn, Rademon, Banbridge and Rathfriland as well as 754 acres at Stalleen in County Meath. He had a substantial income of £8,000 a year. Mabel and William now resided at Crawfordsburn. We were shown a picture of the house from a book by Proctor and Malloy, published in the early 1830s. The house had been built about 1780 and modified about 1820. The gate house on the Crawfordsburn Road is quite sophisticated when compared to the original house. The reason is probably genealogical. One of his sisters married the first Earl of Caledon and their son employed the famous architect John Nash to remodel his house. The Crawfords probably met Nash when staying at Caledon and got plans for the gate lodge.
William Sharman Crawford took an active interest in politics. He is best known for his advocacy of Tenant Right – the Ulster Custom which gave a tenant greater security through the three “f”s: fair rent, fixity of tenure and free sale of goodwill. Crawford called this “The darling object of my heart”. This idea was not popular with other landlords, but Crawford remained a strong advocate of it for the rest of his life. He may have been influenced by one of his tenants from the Banbridge area – Hugh Bronte, the grandfather of the Bronte sisters of Haworth.
In 1831 Crawford contested the election for County Down. Two families had for some time dominated the two seats available for the county in the House of Commons – the Hills of Hillsborough and the Stewarts of Mount Stewart. Two sons of these families also contested the 1831 election. Voting took place over four days in Downpatrick and there were allegations of bribery. Crawford was supported by Mr. Johnston who owned a brewery in Newtownards. He also held 50 acres from the Stewart family which he lost after the election. Sharman Crawford failed to win a seat, but did not give up his political ambitions.
In 1832 he stood for Belfast against Lord Arthur Chichester, the son of the Marquis of Donegall. He lost support because of his views on scripture and education. A new education scheme included the spending of half a day on scripture. Crawford approved the reading of scripture, but not as something to be enforced in schools. He endorsed the sign on Crawfordsburn school which said “No Bible Read Here”. Finally he entered parliament as M.P. for Dundalk in 1834. His tenants and the local Bangor liberals welcomed him home with celebrations and bonfires. His success at Dundalk was probably due to several factors. There were only 200 men in the town qualified to vote and he had the backing of the famous Irish politician Daniel O’Connell. Lord Castlereagh called him O’Connell’s slave but they later fell out as Crawford favoured reform and a federal system in Ireland, while O’Connell went further and advocated the end of the Union. Crawford held the Dundalk seat until 1837.
Now he was in parliament, Crawford came to the attention of the English radicals. He was offered a seat in Rochdale as a supporter of free trade and was the M.P. for the town for 11 years. In 1852 he once more contested the County Down seat. It was a hotly contested election with rioting in Downpatrick where the election was held. Local papers condemned his radical views.
William Sharman Crawford died in 1861 aged 81. His funeral took place from Rademon to the family vault at Kilmore Church.
His daughter Mabel, one of eleven children, became a great traveller, writer and feminist. She wrote three books, including one on Life in Tuscany. The estate was inherited by Major John Sharman Crawford who had been born in 1809. He faced difficult times due to famine, crop prices and land acts. It was during his time that the railway was extended from Holywood to Bangor in 1865. He made improvements to the estate, including the gate lodge on the Helen’s Bay road.
On his death the estate passed to his brother Arthur, a barrister. The latter restored the family fortunes by his marriage to a distant cousin Alicia, whose family owned a brewery in Cork. The brewery was inherited by her son, Colonel Robert Gordon Sharman Crawford in 1889. On the death of his father in 1891, he also inherited the Crawfordsburn estate. He built the model farm and land steward’s house. Then in 1904 he began building the present Crawfordsburn house which was designed by Vincent Craig, brother of the politician Sir James Craig. It was a substantial house in the Victorian style and had 25 bedrooms, including those for the servants. Vincent Craig also built a house for himself in Helen’s Bay and designed the Royal Ulster Yacht Club headquarters about 1899.
Colonel Crawford became deeply involved in unionist politics at the time of the Home Rule Crisis, before the First World War. He became an M.P. and later a member of the Northern Ireland Senate. His son was killed in a motorbike accident at Aldershot in July 1913. Terence Sharman Crawford is commemorated by a plaque in St. John’s Church in Helen’s Bay. His father also built a memorial hall in Crawfordsburn in 1914. The inscription “RGSC 1914” is still visible on the corner of the building. Edward Carson was staying with Crawford at the time of Terence’s death. Carson was due to address a meeting of Volunteers on the afternoon of the day when the telegram arrived, but Crawford insisted that the meeting went ahead. Crawford became commander of the North Down battalion of the Ulster Volunteers. When Northern Ireland was set up in 1921 he became M.P. for mid-Down.
Crawford’s other great passion was sailing and he became Vice Commodore of the Royal Ulster Yacht Club. He was involved with some of Sir Thomas Lipton’s challenges for the America’s Cup. He died in 1934 of pneumonia while on a trip to New York. The Crawfordsburn estate passed to his grandson who was a minor. Finally in 1947 the estate was sold to the Northern Ireland Hospitals’ Authority. The house became a children’s TB hospital. More recently it was sold and converted into flats. .... called Sharman.
Extract from online notes of Bangor Historical Society.
fibre artist Hiromi Tanga in front of her 'Monster Hotel', wool and other fibre activities for children as part of the 'Out of the Box' children's festival at South Bank. I have previously photographed her art when she had a solo exhibition at the Gallery of Modern Art a few years ago.
Peony Poppy.
They bloomed near the end when I felt the chill in the air. I can't explain it. I'm sure everyone has that feeling though. You walk outside and the air has a feeling or a smell. I can't express what it is but it is some change that says the season is changing. Summer is to end.
I wonder what this means for me? I'm going into fall feeling more strung out. I'm an adult afraid of going any direction but I need to go a direction. I need too.
"I wanted to eat of the fruit of all the trees in the garden of the world ... And so, indeed, I went out, and so I lived. My only mistake was that I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom." -- Oscar Wilde. "De Profundis" (1897)
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Lock-Down / Quarantine - Italia
@ Fattoria di Petrognano (c.1680 A.D.), Tuscany, Italy.
B/W study in back-lighting / silhouette - [plate II.2]
(+) www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5tfadddgoY
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The Masnavi:
Description of Love
"A true lover is proved such by his pain of heart;
No sickness is there like sickness of heart.
The lover's ailment is different from all ailments;
Love is the astrolabe of God's mysteries.
A lover may hanker after this love or that love,
But at the last he is drawn to the KING of love.
However much we describe and explain love,
When we fall in love we are ashamed of our words.
Explanation by the tongue makes most things clear,
But love unexplained is clearer.
When pen hasted to write,
On reaching the subject of love it split in twain.
When the discourse touched on the matter of love,
Pen was broken and paper torn.
In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as an ass in mire;
Naught but Love itself can explain love and lovers!
None but the sun can display the sun,
If you would see it displayed, turn not away from it.
Shadows, indeed, may indicate the sun's presence,
But only the sun displays the light of life.
Shadows induce slumber, like evening talks,
But when the sun arises the "moon is split asunder."
In the world there is naught so wondrous as the sun,
But the Sun of the soul sets not and has no yesterday."
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History / Storia:
Petrognano draws its origins from the Gens Petronia as if to say "Gentis Petroniae Fundus", as in the Val di Sieve there are two other places of the same name: Petrognano di San Gaudenzio and Petrognano di Borgo San Lorenzo. The Petrognano Farm is located in the Val di Sieve, 35 km from Florence in the Pomino Doc area and covers an area of 250 hectares with landscapes and crops characteristic of ancient Tuscan agriculture. // Petrognano trae le sue origini dalla Gens Petronia come a dire “Gentis Petroniae Fundus”, in quanto nella Val di Sieve esistono altre due località omonime: Petrognano di San Gaudenzio e Petrognano di Borgo San Lorenzo. La Fattoria di Petrognano si trova nella Val di Sieve a soli 35 km da Firenze nella zona del Pomino Doc e si estende su una superficie di 250 ettari con paesaggi e colture caratteristici dell’antica agricoltura toscana.
Via di Petrognano divides the two nuclei, noble and agricultural, of the rural settlement of Petrognano in two, consisting of several buildings. The actual villa, formerly owned by the Donati and Borromei families and today by the Gambaro counts, dates back to the 17th century, and has a rectangular plan, facing west on an English lawn, and to the east on two panoramic terraces, one of which it houses an Italian garden . The garden houses a couple of fountains with statues and masks, and a shed that was once perhaps a noble chapel.
On the other side of the road is the farm, which made up a rural village in which there was a public fountain (still existing and functional), a wash house, an oil mill, a cellar and other housing and working complexes for the peasants. // La via di Petrognano divide in due i due nuclei, signorile e agricolo, dell'insediamento rurale di Petrognano, composto da più corpi di fabbrica. La villa vera e propria, già delle famiglie Donati e Borromei e oggi dei conti Gambaro, risale al XVII secolo, ed ha una pianta rettangolare, affacciata a ovest su un prato all'inglese, e ad est su due terrazze panoramiche, una delle quali ospita un giardino all'italiana. Il giardino ospita un paio di fontane con statue e mascheroni, e una rimessa che un tempo fu forse cappella gentilizia.
Sull'altro lato della strada si trova la fattoria, che componeva un borgo rurale in cui si trovava un fontana pubblica (tutt'ora esistente e funzionale), un lavatoio, un frantoio, una cantina e altri complessi abitativi e lavorativi per i contadini.
774 A.D. The first certain news of Petrognano dates back to the Lombard period. Giovanni Lami in his work “Monumenta Sanctae Ecclesiae Florentinae” wrote that in 774 Charlemagne assigned churches, castles and courts to the Badia di Nonantola in the Modena area and among these the Court of Petrognano. // Le prime notizie certe di Petrognano risalgono all’epoca longobarda. Giovanni Lami nella sua opera “Monumenta Sanctae Ecclesiae Florentinae” scriveva che nel 774 Carlo Magno assegnò chiese, castelli e corti alla Badia di Nonantola nel modenese e tra queste la Corte di Petrognano.
1046 A.D. The oldest part of the Villa di Petrognano dates back to the year one thousand, born as a watchtower of the valley, built in stone blocks. In 1046 the Benedictine Abbey of San Miniato al Monte, which at the time was part of the Diocese of Lucca, was patron saint of Petrognano. // La parte più antica della Villa di Petrognano risale all’anno mille nata come torre di guardia della vallata, costruita in blocchi di pietra. Nel 1046 risulta patrona di Petrognano la Badia Benedettina di San Miniato al Monte che all’epoca faceva parte della Diocesi di Lucca.
1286 A.D. The Petrognano Farm was passed to the Diocese of Florence and subsequently to that of Fiesole, as evidenced by the documents of the Bishop's Curia of Fiesole. The Villa di Petrognano was a stately home of the bishop's canteen of Fiesole and was cited several times for the excellence of its wines. // La Fattoria di Petrognano passò alla Diocesi di Firenze e successivamente a quella di Fiesole, come testimoniano i documenti della Curia Vescovile di Fiesole. La Villa di Petrognano era una casa signorile della mensa vescovile di Fiesole e citata più volte per l’eccellenza dei suoi vini.
1677 A.D. Due to its splendid position in the valley and the particularly mild climate, the Villa di Petrognano became the summer residence of the Bishops of Fiesole. The villa was enlarged in at least two periods: between 1677-1689 by Cardinal Filippo Neri Altoviti, and by Bishop Ranieri Mancini in 1703. // Per la sua splendida posizione nella vallata ed il clima particolarmente mite la Villa di Petrognano divenne residenza estiva dei Vescovi di Fiesole. La villa venne ampliata in almeno due momenti: tra il 1677-1689 dal Cardinale Filippo Neri Altoviti e dal Vescovo Ranieri Mancini nel 1703.
1866 A.D. Petrognano was bought by the Budini Gattai family, great building contractors at the time Florence was the capital. They invested a large fortune by buying 17 farms in Tuscany and the Palazzo Grifoni in Piazza SS Annunziata in Florence. In the hall on the first floor or Petrognano, there is a frieze on which all the villas owned by the family are represented. // Petrognano fu acquistata dalla famiglia Budini Gattai, grandi imprenditori edili all’epoca di Firenze Capitale. Investirono un’ingente fortuna comprando 17 fattorie in Toscana ed il Palazzo Grifoni in piazza S.S. Annunziata a Firenze. Nel salone al primo piano corre un fregio su cui sono rappresentate tutte le ville possedute dalla famiglia.
1870 A.D. Massive state-of-the-art works commenced on the farm: New farmhouses, roads, aqueducts, a power plant with a hydraulic turbine and a large water storage were built. The villa was further enlarged and restored taking on its current appearance: a large cellar, the wine cellar, the orciaia, the mill, the oil mill and an immense terrace overlooking the valley were also built. // Nella fattoria vennero iniziati imponenti lavori all’avanguardia per quell’epoca. Furono costruite nuove case coloniche, strade, acquedotti, un impianto per lo sviluppo di energia elettrica con una turbina idraulica ed un grande deposito dell’acqua. La villa venne ampliata ulteriormente e restaurata assumendo l’aspetto attuale: venne costruita una grande cantina, la tinaia, l’orciaia, il mulino, il frantoio ed una immensa terrazza sulla vallata.
1930 A.D. Maria Francesca Budini Gattai married Count Enrico Galeotti Ottieri della Ciaja who had the church dedicated to St. Peter rebuilt in front of the farm. From their marriage, 5 daughters were born; Cecilia Galeotti Ottieri della Ciaja is the current owner and lives in the main villa with her 3 children. // Nel 1930 Maria Francesca Budini Gattai sposò il Conte Enrico Galeotti Ottieri della Ciaja che fece ricostruire la Chiesa dedicata a San Pietro di fronte alla fattoria. Dal loro matrimonio nacquero 5 figlie; Cecilia Galeotti Ottieri della Ciaja è l’attuale proprietaria e vive nella villa padronale insieme ai suoi 3 figli.
2000 A.D. By virtue of its history, architectural, artistic and environmental characteristics, in the year 2000 the Ministry for Cultural Heritage and Activities notified the Villa of Petrognano and its annexes worthy of protection. // In virtù della sua storia, delle caratteristiche architettoniche, artistiche ed ambientali, nell’anno 2000 il Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali ha notificato la Villa di Petrognano ed i suoi annessi beni degni di tutela.
#ThroughHerLens
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(+) An 18-year Journey, in Poetry and Image:
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To honor the over 2700 fallen soldiers from WWI to the present whom called Florida home, The Southeastern military Academy and Road to Victory military museum will be displaying a hand made cross for each soldier killed in action. It's a bittersweet site to behold knowing that they died for freedom yet left behind those who loved them. Perhaps one day we wont have to send people to shoot each other over petty ego issues, Oil or other rediculous reasons. Although, I fear that wont happen for many many generations. My brother Cory served in Afghanistan and I'm thankful every day that he made it back. Some of his friends weren't so lucky and each of them deserve to be honored.
I received a text this morning from my mother with pictures of the memorial cemetery. She was covering it for TreasureCoastHappens.com and thought it may be a nice addition to Project365. I agreed and put the word out that I was looking for volunteers. Lauren Milazzo volunteered herself and her two sons Aiden and Christian for the shoot. We setup to meet at 7:30pm just 30 min before sunset. I wanted to get some shots before and after the sun set but knew that working with kids only gave me a short window of cooperation.
Now, just to eliminate confusion, this was a staged shot. Lauren's husband Chris was just out of frame acting as child handler. I wanted to portray loss in today's shot and thought a mother and children in a sort of mourning state. It may be a bit morbid but I feel it was appropriate in light of the holiday. Although, you don't have to have lost to remember.
I arrived 5 minutes late due to an unforeseen vehicle situation. Lauren and family were waiting amongst the sea of crosses. Shawn and his son Rylan stopped by to observe for a bit. I was also joined by China, a German woman who just moved to the states to pursue her love of photography and see where it takes her. This was a quick way for me to meet her and see if she will be able to assist me in future shoots. China, a reserved and quite young woman didn't speak much but I more than made up for her lack of vocalization! I think with her knowledge of photography, she will be a good assistant. I said, as long as she doesn't mind me never shutting up, we'll be ok. That will remain to be seen!
We shot till just after sunset, only moving twice in the cross maze. The last shot turned out to be the winner as I had them hold the dog tag. Christian nailed the expression as he looks sad and deep in thought. I love how it turned out and know I have a new set of models for future shoots.
I feel the need to mention here that everything for this memorial was donated, including time, labor, materials, and money. There will be no profit made yet the town of Tradition couldn't find it in their hearts to donate the use of the land. They had the audacity to charge the organization a fee. I encourage anyone from the towns administration reading this to contact me to explain this. Have none of you ever lost anyone to war? You don't always have to think with your wallets. Stop being cold hearted bastards and pay a little respect.
Anyway, thats enough of that.
Lighting:
AB800 Med Softbox 8:00 1/2 power. Cyber Syncs
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The We are Here challenge on July 21 2018 was: Conspiracy Theory
Our tour guide cautioned us not to ask any questions about spaceships and aliens, on pains of being expelled from the tour. In spite of which, there were about half a dozen questions along those lines. So, in the name of decorum, this photo leaves the conspiracy theorizing up to the viewer.
By the way, if you go to Stonehenge, I highly highly highly recommend this Special Access tour by Pat Shelley, which gives you access to the central area of the monument after the crowds have gone. [edit] - it is special not only in the ability to see the stone circles up close, which is the climax of the evening tour. Before that, Pat and his team give you a wonderful walking tour of the Stonehenge ceremonial campus - an archaeological overview, Woodhenge, Durrington Walls, the burial mounds, the Cursus, and a walk up the Avenue to behold Stonehenge as the ancients might have done.
Stonehenge, UK - July 21 2018
The Rabbis taught: Four [Sages] entered the Pardes [literally "the orchard."]. Rashi explains that they ascended to heaven by utilizing the [Divine] Name [i.e., they achieved a spiritual elevation through intense meditation on G‑d's Name] (Tosafot, ad loc). They were Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher [Elisha ben Avuya, called Acher— the other one — because of what happened to him after he entered the Pardes] and Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva said to them [prior to their ascension]: "When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes' (Psalms 101:7)." Ben Azzai gazed [at the Divine Presence - Rashi] and died. Regarding him the verse states, "Precious in the eyes of G‑d is the death of His pious ones" (Psalms 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and was harmed [he lost his sanity — Rashi]. Regarding him the verse states, "Did you find honey? Eat only as much as you need, lest you be overfilled and vomit it up" (Proverbs 25:16). Acher cut down the plantings [he became a heretic]. Rabbi Akiva entered in peace and left in peace. Ramak now cites the Tikunei Zohar which adds some details not mentioned in the Talmud. The ancient Saba [an old man] stood up and said [to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai], "Rabbi, Rabbi! What is the meaning of what Rabbi Akiva said to his students, "When you come to the place of pure marble stones, do not say, 'Water! Water!' lest you place yourselves in danger, for it is said, 'He who speaks untruths shall not stand before My eyes.' But it is written, "There shall be a firmament between the waters and it shall separate between water [above the firmament] and water [below the firmament]" (Genesis 1:6). Since the Torah describes the division of the waters in to upper and lower, why should it be problematic to mention this division? Furthermore, since there are [in fact] upper and lower waters, why did Rabbi Akiva warn them, "do not say, 'Water! Water!'"
The Holy Lamp [a title accorded to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai] replied, "Saba, it is proper that you reveal this secret that the chevraya [Rabbi Shimon's circle of disciples] have not grasped clearly." The ancient Saba answered, "Rabbi, Rabbi, Holy Lamp. Surely the pure marble stones are the letter yud — one the upper yud of the letter aleph, and one the lower yud of the letter aleph [an aleph in script is formed by an upright yud at the top to the right, and an upside-down yud at the bottom to the left, joined by a vav, the diagonal line between them]. Here there is no spiritual impurity; only pure marble stones, and so there is no separation between one water and the other; they form a single unity from the aspect of the Tree of Life, which is the vav in the midst of the letter aleph. In this regard it states, "[lest he put forth his hand] and if he take of the Tree of Life [and eat and live forever]…(Gen. 3:22) Ramak now begins to analyze these passages. The meaning of Rabbi Akiva's exhortation is that the Sages should not declare that there are two types of water. Since there are not [two types of water] one would be causing a separation. This is the meaning of "do not say, 'water, water'" — do not say that there are two types of water, lest you endanger yourself because of the sin of separation. For this reason the old man asked two questions, both of which are real questions: "There shall be a firmament between the waters and it shall separate…" (Genesis 1:6). Thus there are two types of water and a separation between them. In this case, does it not appear to be permissible to refer to two types of water? Even more problematic is that the Torah itself states, "It shall separate between water and water" — the water above the firmament and the water below the firmament. This is a complete separation. The marble stones represent the letter yud. The old man asked a second question — the waters are in fact of two types: water of the firmament and water below the firmament [in rivers, lakes and seas]. Why then did Rabbi Akiva exhort them not to say "water, water, lest they endanger themselves?" On the contrary; it should be permitted to mention two types of water, for this is no worse than the language used by the Torah, and this is also the situation in fact! Now Rabbi Shimon did not wish to explain this matter himself; he wanted his disciples to hear it from the old man. The old man explained that each of the marble stones represents the letter yud. As we have explained elsewhere this means a yud at the beginning, and a yud at the end, according to the mystical explanation of "I am first and I am last" (Isaiah 44:6). The first yud represents chochma, and the second yud represents malchut, which is also chochma according to the mystical explanation of the light that returns from below to above (called or chozer). The upper yud is the yud of the Tetragrammaton (Yud-Hei-Vav-Hei) while the lower yud is the yud of the Name Alef-Dalet-Nun-Yud. The latter is the concept of "female waters" (Mayin Nukvin), and the former the concept of "male waters" (Mayin Dechurin). They are called "female waters" because they receive from below, from the performance of the commandments, and through them a person has the ability to affect the higher worlds so that the light will shine forth and become clothed in them, as in a palace. Thus the light that is elicited [by the performance of the commandments is like] a king in his palace. These are also the keys to the inner and outer aspects. The inner aspect is the light of the Tetragrammaton, which undoubtedly descends as or yashar from above to below. The outer aspect is that which returns according to the mystical explanation of or chozer. This is the meaning of the statement in regard to the sefirot "from below to above, and from above to below," as explained elsewhere. This is signified by the top and the bottom yuds of the aleph. This is also the secret of the intertwining (shiluv) of the two Names --Yud-Alef-Hei-Dalet-Vov-Nun-Hei-Yud — with the upper yud at the beginning and the lower yud at the end. These two yuds are referred to in the passage "pure marble stones." Each of the yuds is a stone because its shape is round like a stone. It is called "marble" because marble is generally white, which is indicative of the attribute of Mercy (in Hebrew rachamim). In this sense it is also similar to water [which represents kindness]. Now since these two yuds are the aspect of compassion, just like water, which is called "waters of kindness," they are therefore referred to as "marble," as we just explained. We can also explain this by way of [the science of] tzeiruf (letter combinations and permutations): The sefira of chochma is called yesh — "being" [since it is the first immanent sefira], spelled Yud-Shin in Hebrew. The lower chochma [i.e., malchut] is called shai [Shin-Yud — the identical letters, but in reverse order]. When both words are combined they form the word shayish — Shin-Yud-Shin ("marble"). The yud is chochma, the source, and the shin is the emanation of its branches [i.e., the branching out into sefirot according to the mystical explanation of or yashar]…Malchut is called shai according to the mystical explanation of the light that reverses (or chozer). When these two words, signifying these two types of light, are combined to form the word shayish (the two yuds combine into one). They are the letter yud...the upper and lower yuds of the aleph are joined by a diagonal vav
They are called "pure," for there are a number of different types of water [mentioned in the Torah]; one of these is mei nida — literally waters of impurity [because they are used to purify a person after he became contaminated by contact with the dead. Water from a living spring is mixed with the ashes of the red heifer and is then sprinkled upon the impure person]. Separation and division is mentioned in regard to this type of water, as will be explained. These waters [of the pure] marble stones are completely pure and pertain to Atzilut.
"They are the letter yud — one the upper yud of the letter aleph…" We already explained above that the Name Yud-Alef-Hei-Dalet-Vav-Nun-Hei-Yud has the upper and lower aspects of chochma [represented by the two yuds] and six letters in between, alluding to the letter vav [which has a numerical value of 6. Note that the upper and lower yuds of the aleph are joined by a diagonal vav. This is the way a scribe traditionally writes the letter א]. This symbolizes tiferet, which branches out into six extremities [tiferet is the central sefira of the six sefirot of Zeir Anpin]. The vav is situated between the yuds in order to join them. That is to say, through tiferet the daughter [malchut] is able to ascend "to her father's house as in her youth."
It is for this reason that Rabbi Akiva warned them not to say that those two marble stones were separated from one another, G‑d forbid, for this is not true. On the contrary, the firmament between them, which is tiferet, actually unites them and through it they are joined together. There is no separation other than in a place of spiritual impurity, as it is written, "to separate between the impure and the pure" (Leviticus 11:47). But in a place of purity — pure marble stones — "do not say, 'water, water." This is what the old man was explaining, "Here there is no spiritual impurity… they are from the aspect of the Tree of Life…" These waters are in Atzilut and therefore there is no separation between them… on the contrary, the firmament unites them….
The tree of life. It is arguably one of the most popular symbols in the Bible. It’s too bad that so many people read Genesis, discover the tree of life, and think it’s literal. To do so robs the mind of this ancient symbol’s true beauty and essence! Sometimes called the cosmic or world tree, the tree of life did not originate with the authors of Genesis. For thousands of years it has been used in sacred literature to describe man’s connection with the divine. Although different cultures have known this tree by different names, the essence of this tree’s significance is essentially the same; it represents both divine and natural man, the spiritual and natural world. And just as the tree of life symbolically spans all the worlds of existence, so does man. I know the above sounds super spiritual, so what does it really mean for all of us down here on earth? Simply put, the tree of life is about the evolution of subjective consciousness from the lower planes to the higher planes—the world of physical matter to the world of energetic spirit. And consciousness is the center of it all! Consider the Buddha. He was enlightened under the great Bodhi tree. Is it really just a coincidence that Odin gained supernatural abilities (enlightenment) under the branches of Yggdrasil, the mythological tree of the ancient Scandinavians? How about the fact that ancient Mayan kings, including Pakal Votan, were portrayed on stone monuments with the world tree emerging from their headdress (more enlightenment imagery)? I apologize in advance to the fundamentalist that believes the concept behind the tree of life is unique to Biblical literature, but I don’t think all this imagery is coincidental. In fact, we can easily connect enlightenment with the Biblical tree of life. Consider the scripture from Revelations: “…To him that overcometh [achieves enlightenment] will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the Paradise of God” (Rev. 2:7). The seven seals being opened throughout the course of the Book of Revelations corresponds to the opening of the seven chakras, the cause of enlightenment, and eating from the tree of life is symbolic of the fruit one gains after traversing the many planes of consciousness. They key to understanding the above statement must include a knowledge of both the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. ,Let’s review the scripture from genesis that references both trees. Unveiling it will reveal some heavy esoteric knowledge . “And out of the ground made the LORD God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:9). Why do you think the Genesis author implies that both trees are in the midst of the garden? It is because together they represent different aspects of ONE tree! The world tree is comprised of both the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. In the realm of duality you cannot have one tree without the other. The experience of man includes both trees, from limited individual consciousness to the liberation gained through cosmic consciousness. When consciousness (spirit) incarnated on the physical plane, man began living out his existence among hardship and pain. This is part of the growing process, and there is going to be some wounds to lick. But to he who overcomes by continuing to grow consciously will be given to eat of the tree of life.
The key is in the fruit! Within the experience of duality lies consciousness evolution and moving up the tree of life to partake of its fruit. Again, we can prove all this with scripture. Review Genesis 2:9 again. God said the trees in the garden were for food. This has nothing to do with physical food. It’s a about spiritual food. Let’s compare the fruit of each tree from Gaskell’s Dictionary of Scripture and myth. Fruit of the tree of life: “Symbolic of the higher emotions and faculties of the buddhic [Christ] nature laid up for the soul when perfected.” In Revelations Jesus states that the tree of life on either side of the river bears twelve fruits that provide healing. What causes us to express the higher emotions and mental faculties of the Christ? It is through the acquisition of wisdom, which brings healing. “She [wisdom] is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her…” (Proverbs 3:18). How does anyone gain wisdom? It starts with obedience to God on the physical plane. It ends when one truly learns the lessons (on the soul level) that experience in duality provides. Now consider the other side of this coin: Fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil: “A symbol of the experience acquired through the activities of the lower nature and the development of the moral nature.” How does the Bible explain how man acquired experience and learned to develop the moral nature? By being kicked out of the garden (spiritual existence) to live life among “thorns” and “thistles” (duality). This is the fruit of the knowledge of the tree of good and evil! Sometimes the tree of life is inverted in Kabbalah. The inverted tree of life has its roots firmly established in heaven (spiritual planes) and the rest of the tree emanates into the physical world. Likewise, man originated in the Eden, a spiritual plane, and ended up in the physical world, earth. The inverted tree depicts this process. Now it is up to us to climb back up the spiritual worlds. I like to picture the inverted tree as the tree of life and the right-side up tree as the tree of knowledge of good and evil. It makes sense for me to picture the two in this way because remember that the true world tree contains both the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Picturing one tree as inverted and the other right-side up helps me to get a clear picture for the functions of both trees. Tree of LifeThe tree of life then is the ultimate motif of the evolution of consciousness. Its branches reach into heaven, the spiritual planes. The trunk resides on the material plane, and the roots grow into the earth, or underworld, which represents many subconscious aspects of our soul.
The consciousness of man then can be likened unto a tree itself. The ultimate goal is to become complete and whole, which is the true meaning of Biblical perfection. This is accomplished through following and understanding the deeper esoteric meanings of God’s commands.
“And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf [true ideals] shall not wither; and whatsoever he does shall prosper” (Psalm 1:3).
Returning to the tree of life is to gain enlightenment. It is guarded by Cherubim because we must go through the planes of existence and experience duality in order to raise consciousness before we can gain access. It’s that simple.
Every day that you wake up, consider it your day to experience something that brings you one step closer to again gaining access to the tree of life, or enlightenment! And it’s all Biblical! I especially want Christians who are questioning orthodox interpretation to know this, so I’ll say it again. It’s all Biblical! Don’t fret the fact that the Bible is truly a book with eastern concepts woven throughout. Doing so only limits the truths provided through this great book. It certainly isn’t of isolation.
Did the Tree of Life mentioned in the book of Genesis, have power to impart immortality to mortal man, as might be deduced from Genesis 3:22?’
The Tree of Life stood in the centre of the Garden of Eden which elsewhere is called ‘The Garden of the LORD’.1 It was a real tree, to be sure, but let me suggest that it was also symbolic of the fact that God was, and is, the source of eternal life and blessing. Adam and Eve were to have their life centred in Him, even as the Tree was in the centre of His Garden. Other parts of the Bible also mention The Tree of Life. In Ezekiel 47:12 (NASB) we read of trees whose ‘fruit will be for food and their leaves for healing’. This image is taken up also in Revelation 22:2. It is clear particularly in Proverbs where a number of things are referred to as ‘a tree of life’ (wisdom (3:15), the fruit of the righteous (11:30), desire fulfilled (13:12), and a soothing tongue (15:4)) that the Tree of Life in these references symbolises that which brings joy and healing to people. This, I suspect, was what the original, the real Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden symbolised. It was material, yet it stood for the blessing of eternal life which God would give to Adam and Eve, and their descendants, if they were to pass the test of obedience. They were permitted to eat of any tree in the Garden except the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil on pain of death.2 Now, use a little lateral thinking. What else in the Bible is real and material, yet at the same time symbolises the life which is in Christ and points us repeatedly to Him? Something in which Christians share, and which reminds them that Jesus’ death brings us life? It is the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.
IF ADAM PASSED THE TEST OF OBEDIENCE, IT WOULD BE THE MEANS OF GOD’S IMPARTING ETERNAL LIFE TO HIM. Now, let us return to the Garden of Eden. I want to suggest that the Tree of Life was there to perform such a sacramental function. If Adam passed the test of obedience, it would be the means of God’s imparting eternal life to him, not by magic, but by the working of his Spirit ‘by, with and under’ the fruit of the Tree. But Adam sinned. He failed the test and lost his right to eat from the Tree. As one commentator puts it, ‘that he might understand himself to be deprived of his former life, a solemn excommunication is added; not that the Lord would cut him off from all hope of salvation, but, by taking away what he had given, would cause man to seek new assistance elsewhere.’3 Just as Christians who profane the Lord’s Supper are subject to judgment, so Adam would have been further condemned if he had presumed to eat the fruit to which he was not now entitled. In doing so, he would have been trying to rob life from God, a grave blasphemy. The implication of Genesis 3:22 (NIV) ‘And the Lord God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live for ever,”’ is that he, and us with him,4 would have been plunged into a condition of absolute lostness. He would have lived eternally cut off from God without hope of escape from the terrible consequences of sin. This would have been God’s just punishment for such a presumptuous sin, not merely a ‘magical’ effect of the Tree of Life. Mercifully, God did not permit this to happen.5 Adam was cast out of the Garden of Eden. No longer could he even contemplate eating from the Tree of Life. It was beyond his reach. Physical death now began to enter the human race. Adam began to die! The last Adam (Christ) later came to Earth to die so that through faith in Jesus, we may now inherit the eternal life Adam forfeited. Indeed, Jesus says to those who persevere in faith, ‘To him who overcomes, I will grant to eat of the Tree of Life which is in the Paradise of God.’6 The Genesis account of the Tree of Life reminds us there is only one way to attain to an eternal life of blessedness—the way God has appointed. That is through His Son, the Creator of heaven and Earth—the Lord Jesus Christ. It is He alone who can say, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life.’
The Muslim man explained that probably the most fundamental difference is that the Koran2 speaks of Jesus as a prophet—definitely not the Son of God. That evening, the Australian-born student told her father of the encounter, and asked, ‘Dad, I’ve been thinking … our bodies are unclean! Why would God, who is pure, sully himself by coming down to Earth in human form?’ After her father failed to give a reasoned answer, she turned her back on the church, converted to Islam and later married a Muslim.3. Such a question requires only a basic understanding of the Atonement to answer. Salvation required a sacrificial ‘last Adam’ (1 Cor. 15:45) to shed His blood in death, one who was a physical descendant of the first, yet sinless. This could be fulfilled only through God incarnate, Jesus Christ (Hebrews 9:12, 22). Notice, though, how all this is built upon the foundational Genesis truths of the first Adam bringing in sin and death, and the first shedding of blood as a covering for sin (Genesis 3:21). The increasing confusion caused in the church by long-age compromises (which, by putting suffering, death and bloodshed before Adam, undermine these truths) is a major reason why so many today cannot give reasoned answers to basic Gospel-related questions (contravening 1 Peter 3:15). This leaves young people in the church vulnerable to being tossed by winds of false doctrine (Ephesians 4:14).
Following September 11, 2001, the increased prominence of Islam in the media, and public declarations by government (and many church) leaders that Islam is a ‘great’ religion, will likely raise further questions in the minds of many young people in the churches. E.g. ‘Do Jews, Christians and Muslims worship the same God?’ and ‘What does the Koran say about the Bible?’ Many Christian commentators have sought to raise awareness of fundamental doctrinal differences between the Koran and the Bible (see below), but few people are aware of how the Muslim’s holy book starkly contradicts the Biblical account of our origins. Genesis provides a unified description of Creation; the Koran does not. Creation, The Fall, Flood and Babel . Genesis provides a unified description of Creation; the Koran does not. Instead, fragmented passages are scattered across many of its 114 chapters (‘Sura’). The tables (below) attempt to assimilate these fragments for a clearer picture of what the Koran says, compared to the Bible. The many contradictions highlighted in these tables surely demolish any claims that the ‘revelation’ given to Muhammad is not a corruption of, but reliably builds upon, Judeo-Christian history. Eve’s distorted view, obviously wrong, is portrayed as truth in the Koran. For instance, the Koranic account prohibits Adam from going anywhere near the Forbidden Tree, while Genesis says that God only commanded Adam not to eat its fruit (see Table 2). (Man had been placed in the garden to tend it (Genesis 2:15), which seems to require physical access to each tree for e.g. pruning.) Interestingly, the Bible relates that Eve, who was deceived (1 Timothy 2:14), had misconstrued God’s instruction to not eat of the fruit from the tree to instead also mean not to touch it (Genesis 3:3). Yet Eve’s distorted view, obviously wrong, is portrayed as truth in the Koran [update: see Did Eve lie before the Fall?—Ed.]. The Biblical account of origins also makes more sense of today’s world than does the Koran—e.g. the presence of sin, violence, death and the origin of languages (and concomitant minor ‘racial’ differences). The Bible explains why the whole creation is so obviously groaning, in bondage to decay (Romans 8:19–22). In contrast, the Koran makes God responsible for death and suffering (see Tables 1 and 2), in common with long-age and evolutionary Christian views, and Eastern religions.
The Koran and evolution
With the increased adoption of evolution-based curricula, some Muslim leaders and scholars began to recognize the threat to Islam from a rising tide of evolutionary thinking. Their response has been either to attack evolution, or, more commonly, to blend it with Islam.
New Scientist reported that Islamic creationist books cite and copy Christian creationists, but with Biblical references deleted.
1. The Islamic creationists
The creationist Muslims claim that ‘The theory [of evolution] and the holy Qur’an are in direct conflict with each other and no compatibility is possible anywhere.’4 New Scientist reported that Islamic creationist books cite and copy Christian creationists, but with Biblical references deleted.5
2. The Islamic evolutionists
Evolution-believing Muslims seem to be far more numerous, and vocal, than creationist Muslims.
They have a substantial strategic advantage precisely because the Koran is so vague, nebulous and seemingly open to various interpretations.6 They delight in pointing out that, in contrast, ‘There is absolutely no ambiguity whatsoever in the Biblical description of the Creation in six days followed by a day of rest, the sabbath, analogous with the days of the week.’7 These evolution-accommodating Muslims are adamant that the ‘days’ of Creation in the Koran ‘mean in reality “very long Periods, or Ages, or Aeons”?’.7 Muslim apologists gleefully point out that the Koran is compatible with evolution where the Bible is not. Muslim apologists gleefully point out that the Koran is compatible with evolution where the Bible is not, e.g.: ‘Neither here nor anywhere else in the Holy Qur-án is it affirmed that Adam was the first man, or that there was no creation by God before Adam, nor that Adam lived or man was created, or the earth made, only six thousand years ago.’8,9 Long-age Muslims exploit the Bible’s explicit detail of the Flood, too. They say that because the Bible clearly says there was a recent global Flood, while ‘science’ says there was not, the Bible is wrong and the Koran is thus confirmed to be right!10 Some of the Muslim literature even claims that the Koran shows that Allah revealed to Muhammad details about the ‘big bang’, ancient universe and evolution long before scientists began to ‘discover’ such ‘facts’.11
Christian awareness: In the same way that being aware of evolutionary challenges to our faith helps us to be ready with answers,12 so, too, we need to be aware of what religions, including Islam, actually say, in order to be better prepared to answer our children’s questions.13 When men teach things that are contrary to the Bible, we are commanded to actively oppose such ideas (2 Corinthians 10:5). Christians need to be ready to help guide young people through the kinds of ‘intellectual crisis of faith’ that many confront in their teenage years—whether because of exposure to evolutionary teaching, or to other religions.
Knowing that the Word of God accurately explains our world ahead of all opposing ideas not only strengthens our own faith, but gives us the confidence to reach out in love to challengers—including Muslims. In Koran 6:91, the Book given to Moses is described as ‘a light and guidance to man …’
Using Genesis to reach Muslims?
Just as the Apostle Paul used Athenian beliefs to draw his Greek listeners to the truth of the Gospel (Acts 17:22–23, 28), Christians could use a similar approach when talking with Muslims. One could start by reminding the Muslim that the Koran says that the Scriptures of Jews and Christians were given by God, e.g. Koran 2:87—‘We gave Moses the Book and followed him up with a succession of Apostles; We gave Jesus the son of Mary Clear (Signs) and strengthened him with the Holy Spirit.’ Similarly, in Koran 6:91, the Book given to Moses is described as ‘a light and guidance to man …’ . So why so many irreconcilable differences between Genesis 1–11 and the Koran? A Muslim might say that today’s copies of the Bible have been corrupted. But the earliest Biblical manuscripts (e.g. in the British Museum14) date from before Muhammad, demonstrating the reliability of our current copies. The Bible explains that death, violence, pain and decay entered a once-perfect Creation as a result of Adam’s sin in the garden of Eden. A further challenge for the Muslim would concern the presence of death, suffering, grief, etc., in the world. Consider the following exchange between American TV host Larry King and Georgetown University’s Islamic professor of theology, Maysam Al-Faruqi:
KING: Maysam, if you believe in heaven and paradise, then dying is good?
AL-FARUQI: Absolutely. And dying is perfectly natural, it’s the end of things.
KING: Why do we treat it tragically? … …
AL-FARUQI: Well, there is the pain …15
So in this Muslim (also theistic evolutionary) view of death as ‘perfectly natural’, why grieve and wail at the death of a loved one? The Islamic professor’s answer, ‘Well, there is the pain …’ begs the question: ‘So pain and suffering are a “natural”? part of God’s good (Koran 32:7) creation, too?’ Clearly, Muslims have no satisfactory answer.But the Bible explains that death, violence, pain and decay entered a once-perfect Creation as a result of Adam’s sin in the garden of Eden (Genesis 2:17, 3:19; Romans 5:12–17; 8:19–22; 1 Corinthians 15:21–22). Thankfully, this situation is only temporary, as God gave his Son, Jesus Christ, the second Person of the Trinity, that those who believe in Him can look forward to the coming restoration, to a world with ‘no more death, mourning, crying or pain’, i.e. no more Genesis Curse (John 1:18, 3:16; Acts 3:21; Revelation 21:4, 22:3).
In Islam, Adam (Ādam; Arabic: آدم), whose role is being the father of humanity, is looked upon by Muslims with reverence. Eve (Ḥawwāʼ;Arabic: حواء ) is the “mother of humanity.” The creation of Adam and Eve is referred to in the Qurʼān, although different Qurʼanic interpreters give different views on the actual creation story (Qurʼan, Surat al-Nisaʼ, verse 1).
In al-Qummi’s tafsir on the Garden of Eden, such place was not entirely earthly. According to the Qurʼān, both Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit in a Heavenly Eden (See alsoJannah). As a result, they were both sent down to Earth as God’s representatives. Each person was sent to a mountain peak: Adam on al-Safa, and Eve on al-Marwah. In this Islamic tradition, Adam wept 40 days until he repented, after which God sent down the Black Stone, teaching him the Hajj. According to a prophetic hadith, Adam and Eve reunited in the plain of ʻArafat, near Mecca. They had two sons together, Qabil (Cain) and Habil (Abel). There is also a legend of a younger son, named Rocail, who created a palace and sepulcher containing autonomous statues that lived out the lives of men so realistically they were mistaken for having souls. The concept of original sin does not exist in Islam, because Adam and Eve were forgiven by God. When God orders the angels to bow to Adam, Iblis questioned, “Why should I bow to man? I am made of pure fire and he is made of soil.” The liberal movements within Islam have viewed God’s commanding the angels to bow before Adam as an exaltation of humanity, and as a means of supporting human rights; others view it as an act of showing Adam that the biggest enemy of humans on earth will be their ego. The Garden of Eden is spoken about prominently in the Quran and the tafsir (interpretation). This includes surat Sad, which features 21 verses on the subject, surat al-Baqarah, surat al-A’raf, and surat al-Hijr. The narrative mainly surrounds the expulsion of Iblis from the garden and his subsequent tempting of Adam and Eve. After Iblis refuses to follow God’s command to bow down to Adam for being his greatest creation, Allah transforms him into Satan as a punishment. Unlike the Biblical account, the Quran mentions only one tree in Eden, the tree of immortality, which Allah specifically forbade to Adam and Eve. Satan, disguised as a serpent, repeatedly told Adam to eat from the tree, and eventually both Adam and Eve did so, thus disobeying Allah.These stories are also featured in the Islamic hadith collections, including al- Tabari. The Tree of Immortality (Arabic: شجرة الخلود) is the tree of life motif as it appears in the Quran. It is also alluded to in hadiths and tafsir. Unlike the biblical account, the Quran mentions only one tree in Eden, also called the tree of immortality, which Allah specifically forbade to Adam and Eve. Satan, disguised as a serpent, repeatedly told Adam to eat from the tree, and eventually both Adam and Eve did so, thus disobeying Allah. The hadiths however speak about other trees in heaven.
Juneteenth was just recently signed into a national holiday, but it has been around a while. It commemorates when Union Army General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston, TX on June 19, 1865 and brought enforcement of the Proclamation that had been signed 3 years prior, but was being ignored.
Hush now, don't explain
You're my joy and pain
My life's yours love
Don't explain
model: Nathana Machado
photo/retouch: Saulo Mohana
first, this is the older/bored dog version of all the other fun pics i've seen recently of dogs wrapped in chirstmas lights.
second - and i am totally serious about this - he loved being wrapped in the lights because they were warm.
finally, this was the first photo shoot with my new camera, so he really had no choice. and i think i'm going to like this camera just fine.
It would be awesome, if you could support me with a like on my facebook page!
“It was rigged, I tell you,” said Fletcher of Lenfald. He had stopped at an inn in the market city of Ainesford, during his return north from the C.R.A.S.H. games, in which he had been a participant and bronze medalist in Archery. He was giving a colorful account of the Games to the common room.
“We were told to eat at a local restaurant by a fellow competitor, an Outlaw, I think.”
“Why those scoundrels were allowed to participate is beyond me,” said Adam, an Ainesford native.
“Anyway, nearly the entire Lenfel team got awful food poisoning from the vile place. It was a struggle to stand up, let alone shoot straight. Of course, I knew something was up, so I didn’t have the house special like everyone else. Thus I escaped the worst of it, though camel burger I had was bad enough. Did you know ground meat could be tough?”
“Well, that does explain a lot,” said Adam. “We were hearing wild rumors that Garhims were actually better than Lenfels at archery.”
“Well they have been practicing,” said Fletcher, “I’ll give them that. What I’m really wondering is who put that Outlaw up to it. Of course, the Games overseers never investigated it. I suspect the Loreesi, but they didn’t win either. Maybe they just couldn’t shoot well enough even with the competition out of the way.”
“Well, I reckon we’ll be happy to get even camel burgers in Lenfald soon. Those new tariffs are driving the price of food higher and higher,” said Adam.
“Bah,” said Fletcher, “I say forget them and their grain. We can eat venison out of the woods.”
“That’s fine for you,” said Adam, “but this city lives on Loreesi grain. Cityfolk can’t get to the woods to hunt, and meat doesn’t keep. Poor merchant families are already starting to starve.”
“Well if we need to import,” said Fletcher, “it should be done privately, without letting the puppet-king’s highway robbers levy the tariffs.”
“There are outlaw smugglers out East, but they charge nearly as much as the taxmen. Besides, the Loreesi have patrols hunting smugglers, with orders to kill on sight, or so I’ve heard.”
“We don’t need the Outlaws,” said Fletcher, seeing a chance to make a quick Draken and thwart Chartres at the same time. “We’re not bound by the puppet-king’s laws. And you said that the cities need grain the most. There has to be a way to bring it in right here, under their noses.”
“Excuse me,” said a man sitting at the table nearby. He was dressed in Southern style clothes and a white turban. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying. My name is Hassan. I’m from South Ainesford, across the river, and I think I might be able to help you.”
“A Loreesi?” Fletcher said suspiciously. “Why would you want to help us?”
“Son,” Hassan said, “you aren’t the only ones whom that young fool Chartres has hurt. I’m a baker, and every day I bring bread across the bridge to sell in Ainesford. Now though, with the King’s Tariff on grain products, I can’t make a profit. It’s destroying my livelihood, and I’m not the only one either. Our farmers are forced to give away their grain for nearly nothing, while the Lenfels, happy to pay the old prices, starve.”
“It’s outrageous,” said Fletcher. “Now what do you propose?”
“Just this. I can buy grain in Loreos without suspicion, and more to the point, without taxes. My bakery is right on the riverfront, backed by an old dock frequented by fishermen.”
“Hmm, I see,” said Fletcher. “Do you have a place we could hide a riverboat for loading?”
“I have a celler which could be made to open the river, under the wharf,” said Hassan.
“Excellent,” said Fletcher. “Then we would just need a boat, and a place to land it on this side.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem,” said Adam. “Duke Meyrick, err, supports such entrepreneurship. If we landed a shipment of grain at the city docks, no questions would be asked.”
* * *
The conspiracy was assembled quickly. Adam recruited willing Lenfels, Fletcher obtained a small river boat, and Hassan stockpiled grain, purchasing in small amounts so as not to attract attention.
On a foggy night when the moon was new, the first boatload was brought across. Adam, Fletcher, and three other Lenfels brought the boat quietly across the river and slipped it under the docks. The conspirators had opened Hassan’s celler to the river, and Hassan’s son, a fisherman, had moored his boat and hung his nets to dry in front of the opening to hide it. The smugglers entered this hidden chamber, and docked. Fletcher kept his dirk and bow close to hand, but Hassan was trustworthy. They quickly loaded the boat with barrels of grain, then pushed off. With muffled paddles, they delivered their cargo directly to the Ainesford dock, where it was sold the next morning to be grateful citizens.
* * *
For the next several weeks this operation proceeded smoothly. Then one night, as Fletcher and his men were loading the boat, he saw Hassan enter, looking worried.
“My informant in the city guard has sent a message. They’re sending a squad of troops and they’re under orders to kill every smuggler they find. Someone’s tipped them off. ”
“Son of a used camel dealer!” Fletcher said. “We might be able to escape with the boat, but if they find our dock and all the grain in the bakery, you’ll be arrested for sure.”
“I doubt we could make it across. They’ve probably got a boat out there, watching.”
“Then we’ll have to fall back on the contingency plan. How much time do we have?”
“I give us ten minutes.”
* * *
Fletcher assembled their forces. He and another Lenfel had brought bows and arrows. Hassan had acquired an antiquated crossbow. One smuggler had a spear. Adam was in the Ainesford militia, and had a pike. Hassan had also contracted the services of a local thug, who, after a bag of silver and a free meal, had been found to be a secret Lenfel sympathizer. The smugglers donned disguises, so they would look like Outlaws. Most wore masks, Fletcher had a tattered black cloak, and Adam carried a Queen’s Dragon shield.
Everyone with weapons was soon in position, and the last smuggler was sent to finish loading the boat.
Soon the squad of Loreesi guards marched into sight, their way lit by flickering torchlight. They stopped at Hassan’s door and pounded on it.
“Open in the name of the King!” their captain commanded.
Hassan’s son appeared from the alleyway to the left of the shop.
“Are you looking for smugglers?” he said, gesturing towards him. “Back here.”
“Go with him,” the captain said, indicating two of his men.
They followed Hassan’s son through the alley, which was made even narrower by creates stacked along the wall. When they reached the dock behind the building, Fletcher and the other archer, crouching on the flat roof, stood and let fly arrows. Fletcher’s aim was deadly, even in the darkness, and one man dropped without a sound. The other soldier was hit, but cried out. Fletcher shot again. Hassan’s son began disposing of the evidence.
Hearing the cry, the three soldiers rushed the alleyway, and were as suddenly surrounded when two more smugglers leapt from hiding behind the building, and the scimitar-wielding thug charged across the street. Fletcher, Hassan, and the other archer each aimed their arrows at a soldier. While the Loreesi guards’ superior training might have prevailed against the men on the ground, they stood no chance against arrows from the rooftop, and had nowhere to run.
“Hold!” cried the guard captain. “Don’t shoot, and we will lay down our arms.”
“And then go for reinforcements?” Fletcher said. “I don’t take prisoners.”
“If you allow us to go free, I will not harm you. I will return and tell my commanding officer that we saw no signs of smuggling activity, and that we were attacked by men dressed as outlaws.”
“And why should we trust you?” Fletcher said.
“I am a man of honor,” the captain declared. “I will not break my word.” He laid down his weapon and his men did likewise. “You would shoot us in cold blood?”
Fletcher thought of his father. His arrow pointed at the lion on the man’s chest, and his bowstring quivered.
“No.” Fletcher slowly released the arrow and released tension on the bow. “If the Loreesi are men of honor, then I am too.” He signaled the smugglers to let the soldiers go.
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This is my entry for Lenfald's 24th Local Challenge.
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A build for Lands of Rowia, a LEGO castle group in which members create a character and then use Lego builds to tell their story in a shared LEGO castle world. LoR also features motivational contests and challenges. We are currently looking for new members, so come on over, pick a faction and join the fun!
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Comments and critique welcome.
I usually try headshots on white, neutral or black backgrounds, but they just seem to pop that bit more on black. I'm also favouring slightly de-saturated colour over mono, but I can't quite explain why.
Grandchildren playing on a tablet computer while on a birthday visit in Aarhus, Denmark on March 5, 2016.
between ciboule and ciboulette (ciboule is spring onion and ciboulette is chives). Thursday market on bvd de Grancy. The market opened at 5pm, just as it started to rain.
Krýsuvík Geothermal Area
Not too far from the centre of Hafnarfjörður rest the remarkable solfatara fields of Krýsuvík, where you’ll discover an expanse of steaming volcanic vents and boiling hot springs, framed dramatically by a range of multi-coloured hills.
A well-maintained boardwalk winds through the bubbling and hissing Seltún geothermal area, with informative signage explaining all the important geological facts. The massive solfatara steaming away on the hilltop is a tempting attraction, even for those with tired legs, and the spectacular view of the surrounding area is well worth the extra legwork. As a short side-trip, you can also explore the coastline, where you’ll discover the stunning cliffs of Krýsuvíkurbjarg—an area renowned for its rich birdlife.
Besides the mud pools and sulphur deposits, you'll find wildly colourful crater lakes. The Grænavatn, Gestsstaðavatn, and Augun lakes are old explosion craters formed by volcanic eruptions. Grænavatn Lake, 46 meters (150 feet) at its deepest, glows with a deep green hue and is coloured so because of the presence of thermal algae and crystals that absorb the sun's rays. Gestsstaðavatn Lake draws its name from Gestsstaðir, a nearby farm, abandoned during the Middle Ages. On either side of the main road are two small adjacent lakes, called Augun (the eyes).
Just a few minutes' drive from the surreal landscape of the geothermal area sits the stunning Krýsuvíkurberg Cliffs. Here, thousands of seabirds nest in the rugged hillside beside the crashing surf of the Atlantic Ocean. For a peaceful jaunt, hike along the trail to the edge of the cliffs where it's possible to spot kittiwakes, guillemots, razorbills, and other birds as they dive into the sea to feed or frolic with their flock.
Agosto 2011.
Lhasa (Tibet).
"The Jokhang is built over a lake and several legends attempt to explain the selection of such an unusual location. In one, Princess Wen Cheng chose Lake Wothang just to be contrary; presumably she was not happy being married off to a barbarian king and having to leave China. In another tale, Songtsen Gampo tossed a ring from his finger and promised to build the temple wherever it fell. When the ring landed in the lake, a stupa appeared magically and the Jokhang was constructed on this auspicious site. The stupa is said to be still beneath the temple. A stupa inside the building is considered the "upper" stupa. Murals near the entrance to the Inner Sanctum show the episode with lake, ring and stupa, and subsequent construction of the Jokhang. Goats helped fill the lake by carrying earth on their backs, as shown in the mural. Indeed, one explanation for the the name Lhasa is that it evolved from the word Rasa, with "ra" in Tibetan meaning "goat."
Title.
A corner of the station restaurant.
( LUMIX G3 shot )
London. UK. 2015. … 1 / 7
(Today's photo. It's unpublished.)
Images.
Rory - WHO ARE YOU ANYWAY? (ft. Leon Thomas)
youtu.be/KZ4EWHaxE5w?si=sLBst-GSgWzAvESz
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“A.I. - About Apple’s Identity”
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
---
### Will Apple Listen to Mark Zuckerberg’s Criticism?
I Don’t Think So—At Least Not for Someone Enchanted by the Apple Vision Pro.
Mark Zuckerberg, CEO of Meta, recently appeared on a well-known podcast, where he criticized Apple for failing to release an innovative product since the iPhone and for experiencing a decline in sales.
Appearing on a podcast originating from Apple and then proceeding to criticize the company might seem like a lighthearted joke, but I believe he was serious.
Why? Because he now wields a weapon—the AR glasses.
With the support of various institutions and a team of highly skilled professionals, he has likely achieved some notable milestones. Yet, as someone who has been a devoted Apple user since the PowerBook 540c, I still do not sense any real craftsmanship or identity in what he creates.
This sentiment extends to other IT giants that currently dominate the world—Meta, Amazon, Tesla, Microsoft, and Google.
Just by listing their names, readers of this text are likely already picturing their respective CEOs.
In the past, I wrote that Steve Jobs was not an artist.
What he excelled at was weaving together scattered ideas from across the world, expanding upon them, and linking them to the future.
The true creator was Jonathan Ive.
A minority of people may share this perspective with me.
However, when I see these IT moguls quickly shifting their corporate stances the moment the possibility of Trump returning to power emerges, I feel compelled to speak my mind.
The AR glasses, the cars—everything they create lacks a fundamental concept.
Call it ideology or, in lighter terms, identity.
It is true that Tim Cook and Apple’s current team have become more prone to letting slip details about upcoming products before their official release.
I have always loved music.
Artists shut themselves in a studio, cutting off the outside world, pouring their anger, hatred, joy, and sorrow into each note with intense focus.
It’s as if they are entrusting something to their music.
And when they finally release their album, they explain the emotions and thoughts behind its creation.
(Prince, whom I admire, rarely spoke about his work, so understanding his art required engaging with the final product itself.)
Until an album is complete and released, artists say nothing.
It was those artists who moved me to my core.
The faint glow of Apple’s innovation still remains within me.
Not even last year’s widely criticized "failure"—the Apple Vision Pro—could extinguish it.
In fact, it shines even brighter than the iPhone.
Because beyond its cutting-edge electronic components, I can sense a concept, an ideology.
Unfortunately, I will never feel the same from Meta’s AR glasses or Tesla’s cars.
I have written at length, but here is the key article:
**Tim Cook Donates Over $1.5 Million to Trump’s Inauguration Ceremony**
🔗 [Gigazine Article](gigazine.net/news/20250104-apple-ceo-tim-cook-donates-1-m...)
At first glance, this might make it seem like Tim Cook, like other tech CEOs, has sold his soul. But that is not the case.
While Cook personally donated to Trump, Apple itself did not follow the same path as other companies.
Apple refused to bow to Trump.
If asked what Apple’s ideology truly is, I would answer this:
**Apple is a group of individuals who believe in themselves.**
Steve Jobs, watching from heaven, is probably chuckling at this overly serious text I wrote.
A company that does not pander to Trump—
That is Apple. :)
### January 15
After reading a heartwarming article.
**Mitsushiro Nakagawa**
---
**Postscript:**
Corrections made:
Before: "Appearing on Apple's podcast"
After: "Appearing on a podcast originating from Apple"
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:
Photo Music and iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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消えた境界線から生まれたもの ～ 去ってゆく川村記念美術館を振り返って ～
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
What Emerged from the Vanishing Boundaries~ Reflecting on the Departing Kawamura Memorial Museum ~
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54020588671/in/dateposted...
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8mm film of our honeymoon resurrected after decades.
youtu.be/zH-dG7bMeL4?si=yLF5_f1m-LhAVdPp
We found the 8mm film of our honeymoon for the first time in decades, and burned it onto a DVD.
On June 6, 1993, we got married, and headed straight to Nassau, Bahamas, via New York.
Our destination was the pink sand beach where the late Princess Diana went on her honeymoon.
If you're heading to the Bahamas, this might be a good reference.
The hotel we stayed at was the Ramada Hotel, which no longer exists.
My wife is showing us the hotel room.
But now you can see the beautiful scenery in real time.
When I played the DVD that arrived, it showed footage of our arrival in the Bahamas.
Please take a look if you'd like.
This time, we asked Fujifilm to make the DVD.
I'll post the link below.
Digitize videos and photos and convert them to DVDs | Fujifilm
fujifilmmall.jp/conversion/?_gl=1*1smvac9*_gcl_au*NTA1NDU....
#Bahamas #Nassau #PinkSandBeach #Honeymoon #1993
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Important Notices.
I have relaxed the following conditions.
I will distribute my T-shirt to the world for free.
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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Exhibition in 2025
Theme
The Nightfly
Images
Donald Fagen … I.G.Y.
youtu.be/Ueivjr3f8xg?si=xmqGPQjyIKoTs4Q5
Live.
youtu.be/Di0_KYtmVKI?si=CLFpU2n0gXahqLPB
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
Organizer
Design Festa
Location
Tokyo Big Sight
Date
Autumn 2025.
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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Notice regarding "Lot No.402_”.
From now on I will host "Lot No.402_".
The work of Leonardo da Vinci who was sleeping.
That is the number when it was put up for auction.
No sign was written on the work.
So this work couldn't conclude that it was his work.
However # as a result of various appraisals # it was exposed to the sun.
A work that no one notices. A work that speaks quietly without a title.
I will continue to strive to provide it to many people in various ways.
October 24 2020 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 402 _.Copyright©︎2025 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Profile.
In November 2014 # we caught the attention of the party selected to undertake the publicity for a mobile phone that changed the face of the world with just a single model # and will conclude a confidentiality agreement with them.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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Here’s a translated version with a style suitable for a news site introduction:
---
### **Interview and Novel: My Work**
I published a book in the past.
At that time, I uploaded my interview as a PDF online, both in Japanese and English.
Now, I am making it available for free.
More details can be found on Amazon.
**Writing a Novel.**
**Photography Techniques.**
**The Sense of Distance Between the Creator and the Work.**
These all share a common theme.
I put into words the things I felt and left them behind as a record.
I hope my text reaches many readers.
Thank you.
**Mitsushiro**
🔗 **[Access the Files Here](drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...)**
### **Contents**
📄 **1. Interview (English Version)**
📖 **2. Novel: *Unforgettable* (English Version)**
📄 **3. Interview (Japanese Version)**
📖 **4. Novel: *Unforgettable* (Japanese Version)**
*(This novel is dedicated to future artists.)*
*(456 pages in Japanese manuscript format.)*
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
---
### **Synopsis**
Kei Kitami, a student preparing for university entrance exams, meets Kaori Kamimura, an event companion six years his senior, through social media.
Kaori has come to Tokyo with a dream—to befriend famous artists.
To achieve this, she needs the influence of Ryo Osawa, a well-known radio producer.
During a live radio broadcast, Osawa speaks directly to Kaori:
*"I have a wife and child. But still, I want to see you."*
Meanwhile, Rika Sanjo, Kei’s classmate who secretly harbors feelings for him, is closely watching Kaori’s every move...
---
Main story
There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.
One to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.
The other to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days staring at the shine
quietly.
Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.
I face myself to change tomorrow a vague day into something certain.
That is the meaning of a rebirth.
I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.
After she left I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After
she left # how many times did I depend too much on her # doubt her # envy her and keep on telling lies
until I realized it is love?
I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the
daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.
I had been thinking about such a thing.
However I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see
something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me # a guy filled with ambiguous unstable
tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.
Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks. Electronic Publishing. It is free now.
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable '(ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
2.unforgettable '(JNP.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3. Streamlined trajectory.(For Japanese only.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8... =11
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My Novel : Unforgettable'
(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Kei Kitami, a student preparing for university entrance exams, meets Kaori Kamimura, an event companion six years his senior, through social media.
Kaori has come to Tokyo with a dream—to befriend famous artists.
To achieve this, she needs the influence of Ryo Osawa, a well-known radio producer.
During a live radio broadcast, Osawa speaks directly to Kaori:
*"I have a wife and child. But still, I want to see you."*
Meanwhile, Rika Sanjo, Kei’s classmate who secretly harbors feelings for him, is closely watching Kaori’s every move...
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
Main story
There are two reasons why a person faces the sea.
One to enjoy a slice of shine in the sea like children bubbling over in the beach.
The other to brush the dust of memory like an old man who misses old days staring at the shine
quietly.
Those lead to only one meaning though they do not seem to overlap. It’s a rebirth.
I face myself to change tomorrow a vague day into something certain.
That is the meaning of a rebirth.
I had a very sweet girlfriend when I was 18.
After she left I knew the meaning of gentleness for the first time and also a true pain of loss. After
she left # how many times did I depend too much on her # doubt her # envy her and keep on telling lies
until I realized it is love?
I wonder whether a nobody like me could have given something to her who was struggling in the
daily life in those days. Giving something is arrogant conceit. It is nothing but self-satisfaction.
I had been thinking about such a thing.
However I guess what she saw in me was because I had nothing. That‘s why she tried to see
something in me. Perhaps she found a slight possibility in me # a guy filled with ambiguous unstable
tomorrow. But I wasted days depending too much on her gentleness.
Now I finally can convey how I felt in those days when we met.
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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The schedule of the next novel.
Still would stand all time. (Unforgettable '2)
(It will not go away forever)
Please give me some more time. That is Japanese.
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My Works.
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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Do you want to hear my voice?
:)
1
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. First type.
2
About the composition of the picture posted to Flicker. Second type.
3
About when I started Fotolog. Architect 's point of view.
4
Why did not you have a camera so far?
5
What is the coolest thing? The photo is as it is.
6
About the current YouTube bar. I also want to tell # I want to leave.
7
About Japanese photographers. Japanese YouTube bar is Pistols.
8
The composition of the photograph is sensibility. Meet the designers in Milan. Two questions.
9
What is a good composition? What is a bad composition?
10
What is the time to point the camera? It is slow if you are looking into the viewfinder or display.
11
Family photos. I can not take pictures with others. The inside of the subject.
12
About YouTube 's photographer. Camera technology etc. Sensibility is polished by reading books.
13
About the Japanese newspaper. A picture of a good newspaper is Reuters. If you continue to look at useless photographs # it will be useless.
14
About Japanese photographers. About the exhibition.
Summary. I wrote a novel etc. What I want to tell the most.
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I talked about how to make a work.
About work production 1/2
About work production 2/2
1 Photo exhibition up to that point. Did you want to go?
2 Well # what is an exhibition that you want to visit even if you go there?
3 Challenge to exhibit one work every month before opening a solo exhibition at the Harajuku Design Festa.
4 works are materials and silhouettes. Similar to fashion.
5 Who is your favorite artist? What is it? Make it clear.
6 Creating a collage is exactly the same as taking photos. As I wrote in the interview # it is the same as writing a novel.
7 I want to show it to someone # but I do not make a piece to show it. Aim for the work you want to decorate your own room as in the photo.
8 What is copycat? Nowadays # it is suspected to be beaten. There is something called Mimesis?
kotobank.jp/word/Mimesis-139464
9 What is Individuality? What is originality?
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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Explanation of composition. 2
1.Composition explanation 2 ... 1/4
2.Composition explanation 2 ... 2/4
3.Composition Explanation 2 ... 3/4
4.Composition Explanation 2 ... 4/4
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My shutter feeling.
Today's photo.
It is a photo taken from Eurostar.
This video is an explanation.
I went to Milan in 2005.
At that time # I went from Milan to Venice.
We took Eurostar into the transportation.
This photo was not taken from a very fast Eurostar.
When I changed the track # I took a picture at the moment I slowed down.
Is there a Japanese beside you?
Please have my video translated.
:)
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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My statistics (as of December 15, 2024)
How many views have you had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 24,260,172 Views
Youpic 7,957,826 Views
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
My statistics (as of August 1, 2024)
How many views have I had on Flickr and Youpic
Flickr 23,192,383 Views
Youpic 7,574,603 Views
My statistics. (As of February 7, 2024)
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic
Flickr 21,694,434 Views
Youpic 7,003,230 Views
What is the number of accesses to Flickr and YouPic?
(As of November 13, 2023)
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot No. 204 _ . Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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Title.
駅のレストランの隅。
( LUMIX G3 shot )
ロンドン。イギリス。2015. … 1 / 7
(今日の写真。それは未発表です。）
Images.
Rory - WHO ARE YOU ANYWAY? (ft. Leon Thomas)
youtu.be/KZ4EWHaxE5w?si=sLBst-GSgWzAvESz
::写真の音楽とiTunesプレイリストをリンク::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/photo-music/pl.u-Eg8qefpy8Xz
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重要なお知らせ。
僕は以下の条件を緩和します。
僕はTシャツを無料で世界中へ配布します。
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50656401427/in/dateposted-p...
m.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/50613367691/in/dateposted-p...
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２０２5年の展示
テーマ
The Nightfly
Images
Donald Fagen … I.G.Y.
youtu.be/Ueivjr3f8xg?si=xmqGPQjyIKoTs4Q5
Live.
youtu.be/Di0_KYtmVKI?si=CLFpU2n0gXahqLPB
Mitsushiro - Nakagawa
主催
デザインフェスタ
場所
東京ビッグサイト
日程
2025年 秋。
exhibition.mitsushiro.nakagawa@gmail.com
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タイトル
“” A.I. アップルのアイデンティティについて””
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54271473379/in/dateposted...
マークザッカーバーグ氏の批判に、アップルは耳を傾けるだろうか。
僕にはそう思えない。アップルヴィジョンプロに夢を見せられた僕には。
メタのマークザッカーバーグ氏は、有名なポッドキャストに出演し、アップルはアイフォン以来革新的な製品を発売せず、売り上げも落ちていると批判したようだ。
アップル発祥のポッドキャストに現れ、アップルを批判すると言うのは軽いジョークに思えるが、真剣に訴えたんだろうと僕は思う。
なぜなら、今の彼はARグラスという武器を手にしているからだ。
おそらく、さまざまな関係機関や優秀なスタッフが彼を支え、それなりの目標を達成したんだろうが、パワーブック５４０cから使い続けてきた僕のような古いアップルファンからしてみれば、まだ物作りのアイデンティを彼からはまったく感じない。
これは他の、現在世界を制覇しているIT企業らも含む。
メタ、アマゾン、テスラ。マイクロソフト。グーグル。
社名が並ぶだけで、このテキストを読まれている方は名前と顔をすでに浮かべているはずだ。
僕は以前、スティーブ・ジョブズはアーティストではないと書いた。
彼は、現世界に散らばったイメージを紡ぎ合わせ、それを膨らます。そして未来へリンクさせる。それが得意だっただけだ。
実際に創作していたのはジョナサンアイブだ。少数ながらも僕のような意見を持っている方もいるだろう。
しかし、先述したIT関連の面々が、トランプ氏に再び権力が戻るとなった途端に会社の方針を覆す様子を見ていると、僕は一言、どうしても意見したいのだ。
彼らが作ったARグラスや車などには、肝心な観念が欠けている。思想という重い言葉や、軽めのアイデンティティと言い換えてもいい。
確かに、ティムクック氏やアップルの現在のスタッフらは、発売前の商品に関して口を滑らせることが多くなった。
僕は、以前から書いているように音楽が大好きだ。
外界を断ち、アーティストらがスタジオにこもって、怒りや憎しみ、喜びや悲しみを一心不乱になって一音に吹き込む。何かを託すと言ってもいい。
そして、完成したアルバムを発表し、どんな思いを込めて制作したのかを語る。（僕が好きなプリンスはほとんど語らなかったので、完成された作品を理解する必要があった）
アルバムが完成し、発表するまで、彼らはひとことも語らない。
僕の胸を震わせたのは、そんなアーティストらだった。
僕の中に淡く灯っているアップルの革新性は、いまでも消えていない。
それは昨年、大失敗だと批判されたアップルヴィジョンプロでさえも消すことはできない。むしろ、アイフォン以上の強烈な光を放っている。
ただの斬新な電化製品ではなく、細かな電気部品の向こうに観念や思想を感じるからだ。
残念ながら、メタのARグラスやテスラの車に、僕がその観念や思想を感じることは今後もないだろう。
長々と書いてきたが、結論は以下の記事だ。
1.5億円超をAppleのティム・クックCEOがトランプの大統領就任式に寄付
gigazine.net/news/20250104-apple-ceo-tim-cook-donates-1-m...
一読すると、ティムクック氏も他のIT会社同様、魂を売ったのかと思われるがそうではない。
ティムクック氏は個人的にトランプ氏へ献金をするが、アップル社だけは他社と同じようには献金していない。
アップルは、トランプ氏になびかなかったのだ。
アップル社の観念や思想とは、具体的に何かと訊かれたら、僕はこう答える。
アップルとは、自分自身を信じる人間が集まっているグループだ。
たぶん、天国のスティーブ・ジョブズは、僕がクソ真面目に書いたテキストを、鼻で笑っていることだろう。
トランプ氏に媚びない会社。
それがAppleさ。:)
１月１５日
嬉しい記事を読んだ後で。
Mitsushiro Nakagawa.
追記。
修正しました。
修正前 アップルのポッドキャストに現れ、
修正後 アップル発祥のポッドキャストに現れ、
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新婚旅行の8mmフィルムを数十年ぶりに復活😃
youtu.be/zH-dG7bMeL4?si=yLF5_f1m-LhAVdPp
新婚旅行の8mmフィルムが数十年ぶりに出てきて、DVDに焼きました。
１９９３年６月６日、僕らは結婚し、そのままニューヨークを経由して、バハマのナッソーへ向かいました。
目的地は、亡くなられたダイアナ妃が新婚旅行へ向かったピンクサンドビーチです。
もしもこれからバハマへ向かうならば、参考に見てもよいかもしれません。
泊まったホテルは、今はもうないラマダホテル。
妻がホテルの部屋を紹介しています。
でも、今はリアルタイムで美しい景色が見られますね。
届いたDVDを再生したら、バハマに到着したところからの映像でした。
もしもよかったら見てください。
今回、DVD化を依頼した場所は、富士フィルムさんです。
下にリンクを貼っておきます。
ビデオや写真をデータ化しDVDに変換 | 富士フイルム
fujifilmmall.jp/conversion/?_gl=1*1smvac9*_gcl_au*NTA1NDU....
#バハマ #ナッソー #ピンクサンドビーチ #新婚旅行 #1993
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” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2021 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
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プロフィール
2014年11月、たった1機種で世界を塗り替えた携帯電話の広告を請け負った選考者の目に留まり、秘密保持同意書を結ぶ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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インタビューと小説。
僕の本について。
僕は、昔に本を出版しました。
その際に、僕のインタビューをPDFでネット上へアップロードしていました。
その日本語と英語。
僕は、無料でを公開します。
詳細は、アマゾンのサイトへ解説しました。
小説の書き方。
写真の撮影方法。
作品への距離感。
これらはすべて共通項があります。
僕は、僕が感じたことを文章にして、残しました。
僕のテキストが多くの人に読んでもらえることを望みます。
ありがとう。
Mitsushiro.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
１ インタビュー 英語版
２ 小説。unforgettable’ 英語版。
３ インタビュー 日本語版
４ 小説。unforgettable’ 日本語版。(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
(四百字詰め原稿用紙４５６枚)
あらすじ
大学を目指している北見ケイは、SNS上で、6歳年上のイベントコンパニオン、上村香織に出会う。
上京してきた香織の夢は、有名なアーティストの友達になるためだ。
そのためにはラジオ局のプロデューサー、大沢亮の存在が必要だった。
大沢は、ラジオの生放送中、香織へ語りかける。
「僕には妻子がある。しかし、僕は君に会いたいと思っている」
ケイの同級生で、彼を想っている三條里香は、香織の動向を探っていた。。。。。
本編
人が海へ向かう理由には、二つある。
ひとつは、波打ち際ではしゃぐ子供のように、今の瞬間の海の輝きを楽しむこと。
もうひとつは、その輝きを静かに見据えて、過ぎ去った日々を懐かしむ老人のように記憶の埃を払うこと。
二つは重なり合わないようではあるけれども、たったひとつの意味しか生まない。
再生だ。
明日っていう、曖昧な日を確実なものへと変えてゆくために、自分の存在に向き合う。
それが再生の意味だ。
十八歳だった僕には大切な人がいた。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
５ 流線形の軌跡。 日本語のみ。
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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iBooks.電子出版。（現在は無料）
0.about the iBooks.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
1.unforgettable’ ( ENG.ver.)(This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216576828?ls=1&...
2.unforgettable’ ( JNP.ver.)(この小説は未来のアーティストへ捧げます)
itunes.apple.com/us/book/unforgettable/id1216584262?ls=1&...
3.流線形の軌跡。
itunes.apple.com/us/book/%E6%B5%81%E7%B7%9A%E5%BD%A2%E3%8...
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僕の小説。英語版
My Novel Unforgettable' (This book is Dedicated to the future artist.)
Mitsushiro Nakagawa
All Translated by Yumi Ikeda .
1/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24577016535/in/dateposted...
2/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24209330259/in/dateposted...
3/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/23975215274/in/dateposted...
4/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24515964952/in/dateposted...
5/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24276473749/in/dateposted...
6/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24548895082/in/dateposted...
7/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24594603711/in/dateposted...
8/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24588215562/in/dateposted...
9/9
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/24100804163/in/dateposted...
Fin.
images.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon Live in Dublin
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oKwnkYFsiE&feature=related
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Title of my book : unforgettable'
Author : Mitsushiro Nakagawa
Out Now.
ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
in Amazon.
Unforgettable’ amzn.asia/d/eG1wNc5
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僕の作品。
1 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48072442376/in/dateposted...
2 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48078949821/in/dateposted...
3 www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/48085863356/in/dateposted...
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あなたは僕の声を聞きたいですか？
:)
1
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。１種類目。
2
フリッカーへ投稿した写真の構図について。２種類目。
3
Fotologを始めた時について。 建築家の視点。
4
なぜ、今までカメラを手にしなかったのか？
5
何が一番かっこいいのか？ 写真はありのままに。
6
現在のユーチューバーについて。僕も伝え、残したい。
7
日本人の写真家について。日本のユーチューバーはピストルズ。
8
写真の構図は、感性。ミラノのデザイナーに会って。二つの質問。
9
良い構図とは？ 悪い構図とは？
10
カメラを向ける時とは？ ファインダーやディスプレイを覗いていては遅い。
11
家族写真。他人では撮れない。被写体の内面。
12
ユーチューブの写真家について。カメラの技術等。感性は、本を読むことで磨く。
13
日本の新聞について。良い新聞の写真はロイター。ダメな写真を見続けるとダメになる。
14
日本の写真家について。その展示について。
まとめ。僕が書いた小説など。僕が最も伝えたいこと。
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作品制作について 1/2
作品制作について 2/2
１ それまでの写真展。自分は行きたいと思ったか？
２ じゃ、自分が足を運んででも行きたい展示とは何か？
３ 原宿デザインフェスタで個展を開くまでに、毎月ひとつの作品を展示することにチャレンジ。
４ 作品とは、素材とシルエット。ファッションと似ている。
５ 自分が好きなアーティストは誰か？ どんなものなのか？ そこをはっきりさせる。
６ コラージュの作成も写真の撮り方と全く同じ。インタビューに書いたように小説の書き方とも同じ。
７ 誰かに見せたい、見せるがために作品は作らない。写真と同じように自分の部屋に飾りたい作品を目指す。
８ パクリとは何か？ 昨今、叩かれるパクリ疑惑。ミメーシスとは？
https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/ミメーシス
https://kotobank.jp/word/ミメーシス-139464
９ 個性とはなにか？ オリジナリティってなに？
おまけ 眞子さまについて
という流れです。
お時間がある方は是非聴いてください。
:)
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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構図の解説２
1.構図の解説２ ... 1/4
2.構図の解説２ ... 2/4
3.構図の解説２ ... 3/4
4.構図の解説２ ... 4/4
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僕のシャッター感覚
In the Eurostar to Venice . 2005. shot ... 1 / 2
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/49127115021/in/dateposted...
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Miles Davis sheet 1955-1976.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
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flickr.
www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/
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YouTube.
www.youtube.com/user/mitsushiro/
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instagram.
www.instagram.com/mitsushiro_nakagawa/
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Pinterest.
www.pinterest.jp/MitsushiroNakagawa/
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YouPic
youpic.com/photographer/mitsushironakagawa/
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fotolog
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twitter.
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facebook.
www.facebook.com/mitsushiro.nakagawa
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threads.
www.threads.net/@mitsushiro_nakagawa
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Blue sky.
bsky.app/profile/mitsushironakagawa.bsky.social
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Amazon.
www.amazon.co.jp/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHSKI3YMYPYE5UE...
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僕の統計。（2024年12月15日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 24,260,172 View
Youpic 7,957,826 View
x.com/mitsushiro/status/1868185157909582014
僕の統計。（2024年8月1日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 23,192,383 View
Youpic 7,574,603 View
僕の統計。（2024年2月7日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 21,694,434 View
Youpic 7,003,230 View
僕の統計。（2023年11月13日現在）
フリッカー、ユーピクのアクセス数は？
Flickr 20,852,872 View
Youpic 6,671,486 View
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Japanese is the following.
drive.google.com/drive/folders/1vBRMWGk29EmsoBV2o9NM1LIVi...
Title of my book unforgettable' Mitsushiro Nakagawa Out Now. ISBN978-4-86264-866-2
Mitsushiro Nakagawa belong to Lot no.204_ . Copyright©︎2020 Lot no.204_ All rights reserved.
_________________________________
_________________________________
” Lot No.402_ ” に関するお知らせ。
今後、僕は、” Lot No.402_ ”を主催します。
このロットナンバーは、眠っていたレオナルドダヴィンチの作品がオークションにかけらた際に付されたものです。
作品にはサインなどがいっさい記されていなかったため、彼の作品だと断定できませんでした。
しかし、様々な鑑定の結果、陽の光を浴びました。
誰にも気づかれない作品。肩書がなくとも静かに語りかける作品。
僕はこれから様々な形で、多くの皆様に提供できるよう努めてゆきます。
2020年10月24日 by Mitsushiro - Nakagawa.
Copyright©︎2024 Lot No.402_ All rights reserved.
_________________________________
_________________________________
Find me on: Facebook | Instagram | Website & Photo blog
Find out more about this project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page
-------------------------------
The lovely colourful style, and innocent, kind face of this Stranger attracted my attention as I was on my way home after a day of working on my upcoming photo book about Shoreditch life. I asked her if she had a few minutes for a portrait to spare, and she kindly waved 'no' yet I got the impression she didn't know what I was asking. I also, from her mannerism, guessed she might be Japanese, and that meant I still had a chance. So I asked her where she was from, still in English, and she said Japan. Lucky me! I then mustered all the rusty Japanese I had and explained the project and my intentions. She was happy to oblige and praised my Japanese, although as they often say, your Japanese is only actually great when nobody comments on it... ;)
Nao told me she is studying art and is from Tokyo, visiting London for the first time, by herself. She was thinking of seeing a musical that night so I recommended the Lion King. I wonder if she went to see it in the end. :)
Source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandugo
The Sandugo was a blood compact, performed in the island of Bohol in the Philippines, between the Spanish explorer Miguel López de Legazpi and Datu Sikatuna the chieftain of Bohol on March 16, 1565, to seal their friendship as part of the tribal tradition. This is considered as the first treaty of friendship between the Spaniards and Filipinos. "Sandugo" is a Visayan word which means "one blood".
The Sandugo is depicted in both the provincial flag and the official seal of the government in Bohol. It also features the image of the blood compact. The top of the seal explains the history behind the Sandugo event that occurred in Bohol, the fleet and the location where the Spaniards anchored and the place where the treaty was conducted which was dated on March 16, 1565
So before explaining the photo - a couple of cool things from recent times on my website.
The results of the International Photography Awards are out and I picked up three honourable mentions - more here
And I was recently invited to take part in the European Photography Google Plus Hangout which you can watch here - it's about black and white photography. (BTW it was my first G+ hangout, was only a bit nervous!).
So, I've not had much chance to get out recently but with the dark nights drawing in and the weather getting changeable I was keen to get out. Rather than head to the beach as I normally do I thought I'd head inland - something I'm keen to do a bit more of.
My website | G+ | 500px | Twitter
Could somebody, especially the physics/weather gurus explain this please?
Is that a UFO GPS landing director?
This lady was funny, and a good sport! She was sitting on the bench to the left with her lunch laid out and remarked to us that she felt a bit special as there were a lot of people wanting to take photos of her! We explained that they were probably actually taking photos of one of Brisbane's new Tiny Doors set up recently for Christmas. I don't think she was too disappointed not to be the centre of attention and happily posed for us. These days you just never know how people will react and she was really a good sport and had a laugh at the funny side of the situation. Post Office Square, Brisbane.
Stand-alone classic vector infographic on the cover of the Health and Science Section about different types of touch screen technology and future developments. Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop.
Online version: www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/touchscree...
*Not my photo/ art*
Oni is what my style of mecha are called here is a quick short backstory.
1185 A.D. gave raise to the first age of the Samurai. Samurai were mighty warriors that worked for powerful families in the ancient lands, the samurai were both loyal and disciplined there was no warrior more powerful. Like a wave the samurai grew in numbers and power taking over control of all of the ancient lands, until they came, the Oni. All around the world there are myths and legends of mighty monsters able to single handedly defeat armies of men. The home of the samurai received the main force of these monsters and with only a stroke of luck the samurai were able to defeat and trap most of the demons. The years passed and many forgot the truth, many stories meant to save the truth were dismissed as folk lore and legend, and so the world moved on without a care.
The year is now 1304 N.A. (new age) in this era the world, Exia, is filled with many races from other worlds and unimaginable technologies and magic. Sadly warfare is still a common plague the human race, factions owned by the five kingdoms of the world fight to gain power. Many of these factions do not fight with men but with incredibly powerful machines called Mecha; war machines that come in many different shapes, sizes, and origin; each having its own unique abilities. The most powerful mecha are of humanoid form and piloted by highly skilled individuals...
One of the kingdoms on a quest to protect their home unlocked the secrets of the ancient lands. Chaos and death in the form of demons soon followed the discovery. The three most powerful kingdoms banded together to drive back the demons known as Oni. Amid the chaos a small nation known as Zephyria was able to capture injured Oni. With the use of magic and technology the kingdom was able to bend the will of the Oni to their own.
Only pilots with immense mental skill and will power have a chance to sync their mind with the Oni, if the Oni takes over it steals the mind of the pilot and go's on a rampage as a demon killing the pilot in the process and if the pilot takes over all the Oni's power yields to the pilot and the pilot's personality and skills shine through. Pilots must have a compatible style to be accepted by the Oni. Once a pilot syncs (80%+) a Oni no other pilot can enter the Oni...
so time to explain lmao
y'all know that doll with the bad hair and the cracked ass blue eyeliner and scratched up eyes that was okay for like the start of 2014 then people got annoyed at?!?!?!?
im still using ha lollll
But more importantly, what this is:
I'm a music producer. I will use some instrumentals from the internet when I really cba, but 99% of the time I spend hours creating instrumentals and music with a variety of different music software. I have made over 150 songs so far for "DJ Dani Creamz (an artist in which I created when I was trying to hard and wanted to be cool lol)" but they're all on my laptop which the hard drive has failed on so pray for me y'all
but one album that I had saved onto a memory stick before my laptop crashed was "Mλgicλl". A bunch of music I created with a "fairy tale" kinda vibe. For those who had no idea about this, this is actually Dani's 9th album. You can find links to all her others on her website, which will be below lol.
But I just wanted to say that since my music is like 99% my own, I am able to get it distributed to several online music stores, including Amazon, iTunes and Spotify! This album, Mλgicλl, is available on August 14th on those 3 platforms, in the USA, UK and New Zealand. The iTunes Pre-Order link is below but it has yet to appear on Amazon or Spotify. The price is the lowest possible (for more than a single) because I know this isn't going to do anything. I'm not trying to make a profit from this, I'm doing it because I like it. I wanted to actually put it up for free but that's not an option, so I selected cheapest. If I can get the rest of the music off of my old hard drive, I will, but as of now, I have 1 other instrumental EP out for Distribution on the first friday of september, available worldwide on even more stores including Apple Music. I hope you guys like the music, and maybe support me? Thank you & i'll post any updates here from now on! Links:
DANI'S WEBSITE: djdanicreamz.webstarts.com/
DANI'S FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/pages/DJ-Dani-Creamz/1501549023399528
DANI'S SOUNDCLOUD: soundcloud.com/dj-dani-creamz-official
DANI'S OTHER MUSIC: djdanicreamz.webstarts.com/gallery.html
Mλgicλl iTunes PRE - ORDER: itunes.apple.com/gb/album/mlgicll/id1016885018
AVAILABLE AUGUST 14TH ON AMAZON, SPOTIFY AND iTUNES.
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Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.
Act 1
I begin my tale in the present…
That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….
It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges
As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.
But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:
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I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.
I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.
I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.
He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.
It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.
The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.
I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.
I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.
As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.
Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing
I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..
I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.
Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.
So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.
But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.
I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.
I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.
The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.
And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..
With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.
When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”
So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.
Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.
Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.
*****
So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?
I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.
Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.
I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.
On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.
The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!
I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.
Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..
They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid
And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!
One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.
But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.
This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.
They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.
With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .
After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.
It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.
And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.
After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.
So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.
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Act 2
So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.
As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.
The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.
I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.
I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.
That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.
It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.
I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.
I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.
It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself
I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.
The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.
But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.
I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.
It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.
But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason
I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.
I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!
I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.
I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.
About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously
The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.
Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.
Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.
We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.
I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.
The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.
She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.
But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.
With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !
What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.
Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!
I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.
So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!
The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.
Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?
And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...
I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……
Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.
The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.
As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…
No honor amongst thieves…
What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,
What will you have it be?........
To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)
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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.
Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .
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