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This is a little difficult to explain…
Arsenios Eznepidis (1924-1994), aka “elder Paisios”, seen on the icon on the left, was a Greek monk from Anatolia (Asia Minor) who became known for his life, his teachings and (random) prophecies, and was canonized by the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople in 2015 as “saint Paisios of Mount Athos”.
In 2012 a satirical page on Facebook, under the name Γέροντας Παστίτσιος (elder Pastitsios, whose face was substituted with pasticcio, a local pasta and béchamel dish, combining Greek Orthodox and Pastafarian imagery) reported a miracle conjured by the page’s creator, which was reproduced as real in numerous blogs and religion-related websites. The case reached the parliament when an MP from Golden Dawn, the ultranationalist, far-right, neo-Nazi political party of Greece, raised a question to the Minister of Justice. The creator/administrator of the page was arrested a few days later and received in 2014 a 10month sentence (!) for malicious blasphemy and religious vilification, which caused an upheaval in Greek social media, the left parties and any free-thinking/logical human being. After his appeal he was discharged in 2017 due to the expiry of the statute of limitations.
The idea of creating fictional characters based on Paisios quickly became a brief internet meme. On the bright side, this ridiculous story started a discussion regarding the blasphemy law, which will hopefully lead to its abolishment.
PS. The title (=redundant in Greek) is another play on Paisios' name.
Less words to explain "real love"...
...It looks like the heart behind the window is cutted out between the 2 scooters and viewed in perspective.
the macro mondays group’s theme for this week, 2/24, is sweet and/or savory and i think i have 3 possibilities :) ........... in new england we have a little quirk. if you want chocolate sprinkles, you ask for jimmies. no, i'm not sure who jimmy was-- maybe i should research that later after i dither and then choose.
If you are interested in my works, they are available on Getty Images.
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一張真正的照片無須說明,亦無法被文字語言所框限。
A true photograph need not be explained, nor can it be contained in words.
～Ansel Adams
We were happy to have our vehicle washed at the Heritage Christian School car wash; students raising money to fund a trip to Vancouver Island
Sometimes its hard to explain the sheer joy of dressing as a woman and making myself as feminine as I can be. So hopefully this picture helps explain that its the most wonderful feeling to wear a pretty dress and jacket and just be me as a woman. Happy New Year to all the kind people who like my photos, lets hope for many more in the new year.
Here’s a special one. “Stellar Dendrite” snowflakes are the ones we most admire. They quantify out concept of beauty in a way that can’t be easily explained, and the level of detail is fascinating to explore. View large!
Also check out "The Snowflake" print, just announced! skycrystals.ca/poster/
I’m surprised this one didn’t make the cut in last year’s snowflake series, but I was thrilled to finally put it through the editing process. Over four hours was spent on this snowflake image to bring you all the detail you see here – and over 40 images were combined to get the focus perfectly sharp from tip to tip.
Conditions to find snowflakes like this can be common, but you still need luck. Temperatures around -15C in the clouds tend to produce these kinds of crystals, but the humidity might have been lower than other similar snowflakes here. Notice the thicker side-branches everywhere but the outer area? This usually means slower growth and lower humidity. Humidity plays a huge role in the style and structure of a snowflake.
Notice also that the growth pattern seems to change at the outer edges. The humidity seemingly increased just before the growth of the crystal stopped. This can happen when the snowflake begins its descent and passes through another layer of the cloud that contains a higher concentration of water vapour. The snowflake will continue to fall out of the cloud and eventually to the ground, but falling through another cloud layer with different growth variables can cause this kind of change to the outer parts of any snowflake.
Looking very closely, you might also spot shadows being cast on a number of the side-branches. This is because they are growing on a different plane than the main branches. Even the main branches exhibit a slight “cascade” effect. What gives? I thought these crystals grew flat?
If a cavity forms along the leading growth edge of a branch, and that cavity grows too large, it can split the branch in two. This gives two new leading edges, and in this case the bottom edges seem to dominate, growing out faster and showcasing the cascading effect in the main branches. This lower dominance can be caused by the “knife edge instability”, or simply the direction that the snowflake is falling.
The side-branches are harder to explain. Why are some of them growing underneath? My best theory is that the main “ridges” grew very tall. The center of the main branches can grow thicker than the rest of the branch, and if they grow tall enough, the top edge can begin the growth of a new plate, much the same way “capped column” snow crystals form. This means that the side-branches aren’t actually growing underneath, but rather the top ridge of the snowflake is growing above them and covering their previous growth. Any physicist want to comment on this theory? I’m just a photographer!
Want to see this snowflake positioned with over 400 others in a single image? Check out “The Snowflake” print here: skycrystals.ca/poster/
If you got to the end of this rambling post and want to know more about how snowflakes for and how to photograph them, check out the book Sky Crystals here: skycrystals.ca/book/ - makes a great gift for the photographer or amateur scientist!
Jim is going to explain how we can all showcase our work, hopefully when something is tweaked for us on his land tabs (all a mystery to me :P). By taking a pic by what we consider to be our best work and submiting it to the guide we can not only improve visitors to the gallery but also show the virtual world our own special style. More info coming later maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Rainbow%20Park%20Island/11...
From the photoblog Chillimatic
Posting a photo of a shop called "Party World" here is an odd way to memorialize someone. Bear with me, I'll explain further down the page. Firstly a little on how I came to know about Jon Claremont and his work.
The service provider for my photoblog, Chillimatic, is called Expressions. Expressions won't be rivalling Flickr any time soon and perhaps due to the small number of subscribers, or perhaps due to the good work of the people who run it, Expressions is a genuine ‘online community’ (prior to joining I had thought this phrase an oxymoron) brought together by a shared love of photography.
Some particularly high quality photoblogs are nestled alonside my own (frankly amateurish) site. Chief among these is a blog I discovered during my earliest nose around Expressions called ClaremontPhoto - Jon’s photoblog.
The aesthetic of Jon’s pictures was so different to that which currently prevails in photography that it was a shock when I first landed there. My eyes had become too accustomed to the diamond-sharp, perfectly colour-balanced images that digital technology has made possible to immediately accept photos taken with film cameras and developed at the local One Hour Photo. Jon's snaps were often blurry and overexposed with no apparent colour scheme. His subjects rarely sat nicely in measured compositions.
Even when he was photographing the patrons of the shabby café-bars of Montemor-o-Novo, the town in Portugal where he lived - subjects who were in fact seated and immobile - there was always a touch of anarchy, a touch of humanity, his photos were alive. He once remarked in an e-mail to me that he didn’t do “pretty pictures”. He was wrong. His photos were beautiful, and in a way that all those diamond-sharp digital images could never be.
I started leaving comments on Jon’s site, he on mine, and our intermittent e-mail exchanges began. Just as one had to get past the aesthetic shock and look carefully at Jon’s photos to fully appreciate them so he looked carefully at others’. More than once he remarked on something in one of my shots that I hadn’t noticed myself. For this reason his words of encouragement were valuable to me; his appreciation was genuine.
Jon's warmth of character was a further quality as apparent in his photos as his mails. Most of his shots were of the inhabitants of Montemor, a village lost in the countryside 40 miles to the east of Lisbon, a town not pretty enough for tourism nor rich enough for chain store homogeneity.
Similarly, Montemor’s inhabitants are neither charmingly rustic nor the neat, presentable Gap-clad men and women that the global economy has moulded. They're a scruffy lot, spending their evenings sitting awkwardly on bar furniture, drinking cheap beer straight from the bottle, looking up slack-jawed at the football on the telly. In viewing Jon’s photos I was often reminded of Oscar Wilde’s famous aphorism “Work is the curse of the drinking classes”.
Most photographers, I think, would maintain a certain distance between themselves and such subjects, one that would translate into a mocking tone in their photos or a falsely reverent one: ostensibly honouring such ‘salt of the earth’ characters, covertly pitying them. Jon did none of that; the section at ClaremontPhoto compiling his ‘people’ shots is titled “Friends and Neighbours”. Quite right, they were not his subjects, he was one of them. The warmth and camaraderie so apparent in his photography were equally evident in his words to me.
Soon after I was first in contact with Jon he was appointed as Community Ambassador at Expressions, bringing to the members’ attention the work of other Expressions contributors, and continuing to offer words of encouragement and genuine appreciation to so many of us. He was very much the glue in our online community and I know that I am not alone in saying how greatly missed he will be.
I learnt of Jon’s passing on Friday and that same day Shanolyno, a fellow Expressions user, posted a comment on my photoblog. I mailed him to say thanks and told him the sad news. His words in reply voiced my own thoughts perfectly: “Seems strange to mourn for someone that I feel I know so well, yet I never met.”
I never met Jon Claremont either, I never even spoke to him and yet he touched me in some way, he inspired me, and I will miss him. For those that did know this clearly exceptional man, his family and friends, the loss must be very great indeed and my thoughts are with them.
So, the photo of “Party World”. It was taken in July of last year with a DSLR which I’d just bought, on the day I arrived in Sardinia, my holiday destination. During the preceding months I had spent much time on photography: taking photographs, tending to my website, reading about photography, viewing the work of others and occasionally exchanging e-mails with Jon.
Shortly before I left we had a quick exchange about Martin Parr, whose work we both admired. I wrote: “Regarding Martin Parr, yes the man is a genius, but I also kind of hate him because it's become impossible to take photos in certain areas (supermarkets and seaside towns in the UK particularly) without thinking of his brilliant photos. He kind of owns all that now. If I ever find myself in a run down bar in Portugal and I'm unable to take photos because you've taken all the ideas and own that environment I'll let you know.”
When I arrived in Olbia this throwaway comment had transformed into prophecy. Maybe it was the intensity of the sunlight (in Jon’s outdoor shots the walls and streets of Montemor appeared sun-bleached) or maybe it was the slightly tattered look that much of Olbia still has despite a recent influx of tourists courtesy of EasyJet, but I was unable to take pictures of the place, I saw Jon’s photos everywhere.
Thwarted in my attempts to take my own photos I decided to produce some imitation Claremonts. I turned the exposure up a notch to get the bleached look, switched the focus setting to “auto” to lose some sharpness and took a couple of shots of shop fronts which I imagined wouldn’t be out of place in Montemor. This shot was the most successful. I had intended to send it to him but, very regrettably now, never got round to it.
But "Party World", though? Surely not the best way to memorialize someone? Like I say - bear with me. This shop, despite its apparent banality, despite the cheap plastic knick-knacks it displays in the window, proudly proclaims itself “Party World” and this is in keeping with the meaning I read behind many of Jon’s photos. Despite the tawdriness of their surroundings; despite their shabby clothes; despite the cheap beer they’re given to drink every night; despite the fact that they live in a forgotten hinterland, held there just above the breadline; despite the fact that they’re old and working class (both characteristics that were once a source of pride but not so much these days); despite all this and much more, the people in Jon’s photos are mostly smiling. They’re happy.
My favourite of Jon’s photos is of a frail old man who sells lottery tickets from in front of a bar. According to the text accompanying the photo he’s there every week with the same patter, every week he has “the big one”. There he is - leaning against a rubbish bin, an expression of rapt wonder on his face as he eyes the little scraps of paper in his hand which, despite the 10-million-to-one odds, are going to bring in the jackpot. The Don Quixote of Montemor, he is both a fool and a hero.
As summations of the human condition go, it's hard to beat. We are born into a world without purpose or meaning where there is but one truth: that one day, soon, we will be gone from it, obliterated. We have no chance; we are playing a machine we will never beat, which metes out suffering so much more than joy... And yet we still believe, holy fools that we are, that we're going to land "the big one", that “A vida é uma festa!” Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Party World.
So rest in peace, Jon Claremont, and thank you for showing me all this.
If you've read this far I hope you'll click on the link for ClaremontPhoto. Many of his older photos (including the lottery ticket seller) have disappeared but there remain many photos of exceptional quality.
Explaining the towel: while it may seem a strange accessory to some of you, any local looking at this picture would immediately realise there was a baby tied to the young woman's back :-)
Adriene had this silver necklace made for my birthday. She appreciates my attempts to reclaim this word. When I was in college, I became sick and infuriated when hearing men call other men "pussys" for not being a "real man." But even more untolerable was hearing other women call other men "pussys" for failing at "manhood."
Whenever I heard "pussy" used in such a condescending way, I would always say "excuse me? those are my genitals you are referring to and my Pussy is POWERFUL, not weak. So if you are going to de-masculinize a man, you can de-phallasize him, you can call him an ass asshole, you can call him a dick, a bastard, but never give him the power of your pussy."
After giving that speech once every week I decided something had to be done, women needed to reclaim the word "pussy" and in effect reclaim their own pussies. So I coined the term "pussy power kunt control." Pussy Power stuck while kunt control fell to the wayside. I made buttons with the word "Pussy Power" and I passed it out to women who honored their pussies by referring to it as celebratory word, not a hurtful word.
Adriene has known me for about 10 years now and I think she has heard me give that speech so many times. Finally I have a beautiful necklace for my birthday from one of my best friends! thank you Adriene! you TOO have the power of the Pussy!
We will reclaim an identity that we allowed to be taken away from and reclaim the responsibilities that comes along with it. If YOU have Pussy Power, NEVER let a man or boy and most importantly another woman call another male a pussy in a hurtful or denigrating way. Those are YOUR genitals. PUSSY POWER!
Now on a separate note - Several friends commented on how they were so amazed I could post these photos about Adriene's pussy power necklace gift for me openly on flickr. My birthday was back in April - and those few comments made me pause before posting this on my blog. So here are my thoughts on this matter.
so when my friends told me that I was brave to openly post these- I ask them why exactly should I have been embarrassed or afraid? They would say well you know you get google searched for jobs and grants and people might think that you are a liability or they may judge you before they get to meet you. Academic colleagues have said well your students are going to find it and you're never going to get tenured for posting this or what happens if your professor sees this online? Well duh - I always googled people before I would interview, hire or even meet someone. I would like to remind everyone that I was openly doing internet searches on potential dates and hirings back in the late 1900's and early 2000's before Google even existed ok?
So of COURSE I understand that this public internet posting will be potentially seen by my past, current and future colleagues and/or students. But I don't think I am doing anything wrong or embarrassing when I insist that women not allow the word "pussy" to be used in a derogatory way. I am not using it in a nasty way - so how is that a liability? What I find offensive is when people remain quiet when something offensive is said. And worse off I find it offensive when people judge others for unsubstantiated reasons. To be anymore hush-hush with pussy feeds into larger schemas of patriarchy and misogyny.
I stand behind my attempts to un-dirty the word in a fashionable way. For too long (not in all communities) women's reproductive organs have been considered to be profane and unworthy of equal respect to the phallus. The sexuality associated with vaginas have been seen as a threat and rituals are created to take away the power from their vaginas. The menstrual cycles that women go through are seen as filthy - requiring physical separation of women from the community. I find it problematic that although we have formal gender equality, this is not always reflected in our vernacular. The heavy association of the word "pussy" is too weighted on the side of the "nasty" or as lacking a cock which means lacking power. So powerful and normalized is the cock that we celebrate and laugh at the word. Even when a male is called a "cock" - like "he's such a cock," he's a cock precisely because of his unwarranted use of power. We laugh at jokes about "dicks' - such as Justin Timberlake's Dick in a Box - but the word pussy is so nasty and weak that it can't even be intellectualized or comedized (I made this word up) in popular culture. My point is that the verbal representitive use of genitals reflects underlying real world inequalities and tensions between males and femals.
I simply will not be embarassed by the names of female genitals - And if this prevents me from being hired - then I certainly don't belong at that organization, institution or company. And if students can't take me seriously after reading this, then they need to grow up. Really. and if Professors find this and are horrified then I am sure glad that they aren't working with me.
When we make a claim to an identity, it's not just about claiming rights or something abstract like belonging - but it's about claiming responsibility to that identity. So in claims that I make - like I claim I am Chinese-American or I claim that I am from the U.S. or that I live in Brooklyn or that I a female- then I take a responsibility in those claims to act and to practice what I claim.
And hopefully future colleagues who do come upon this will see that this is a sign of character - that I am not afraid to stand behind someone or something. Now I am not some militant gender freak - so I feel no need to parade my thoughts or beat up people for calling men pussies. Nor do I lack the sense to wear this necklace when I interview someone or when I am being interviewed - or at some funding meeting or my dissertation defense or even at any professional meetings. I don't believe in drawing unnecessary attention to myself and detracting from the larger goals or messages in professional situations because I do understand wearing this necklace entails the burden of explaining the message - which I embrace in moments when I want to teach people about pussy power. BUT I will wear it when I find see fit and fashionable! And if after reading this explanation and you still find my pussy power offensive, horrific or distasteful then it's time to bring in some humor into your life and chillll out! Go turn on Prince and Mozart and watch some South Park.
I was waiting for the bus, when I saw a young guy approaching. I was quite in my own thoughts, lighting a cigaret when he ask me, if I had been waiting long for the bus?
I answered him in my very own male voice, that I had been waiting QUITE a while, so that it should soon be coming... Perhaps I should explain that I never ”twist” my vocal cords to sound female, but just as well, I try to refrain from growling and reaching the low tones and notes of normal speech. But this time I half forgot, or half didn't really care (even I don't know which)? Very unlike me really! Anyway, he did seem sligthly chocked, but I was puzzled to find him keeping the conversation going!? ”Is it time for the night busses already?” He said and I answered, though in my more usual ”Lisa way” now. He even sad down close to me in the bus and we talked on the ride towards the city of this and that, going out, nightbusses and so forth. At a time he said ”... Im just going to hang out with some friends, I seldom really go out as there is usually problems with ID... ”. I was confused.. ”But... problems with ID... but how so..?” .”How old do you think I am?” he asked, I guessed ”21... perhaps 23” I said and was QUITE surprised when he said he was only 16 years old. I was VERY surprised I must admit, so much it obviously showed, which made him proud he even said :o) ”Just wait!!” I smiled in return, ”soon enough, you will wish to be guessed YOUNGER than you are! :o)”
How insight full of you :o) how DO you do it? Read my mind this way, that is? But yes, of cause I could not help my self, asking him to guess my age?...though... the expression on his face made me wish I my self had brought an ID. I seriously doubt he belived me. Anyway, when the time came for him to get of the bus, he gallantly presenting me his hand, wishing me a good evening. He was.. EXTREMELY sweet, kind and empathic. Just a kid really, but with more wisdom than could be added together, from 3 average society adults.
I am so used to idiots, that these... human beacons of kindness, wisdom and light, never cease to amaze me, when they leisurely wander across my path in life. - I wonder.. if they in fact feel the same way as I do, about me I mean, those human beacons? Perhaps they do, in fact! Quite possibly, really!
A good start on the evening though, especially as the ”dress up” part was a little stressed with time. (I HATE that)
I was going to ”Queer party” at Warehouse 9. An event where one is sure to meet quite interesting people and I was not disapointed.
These 2 ”guys” (on the pictures)...I call them ”guys” as the one said -”To day I am Benjamin” -, was the incarnation of, femininity, in every little movement and gesture. The guy on the right, made a casual dance so nymph like, while just talking on the phone totally unaware, that I was stunned in admiration. Benjamin (the one on the left) at a time, took off his T-shirt, presenting a stomach and waist so slim and feminin, even I can not come close. He was wearing a black bra and it looked only, feminine!!! He even talked with a voice so velvet smooth, one thought only of one thing the second he opened his mouth and started pronunciation words :oP WOW!
These 2 ”guys” I have not seen before in Denmark. Obviously they are quite young and again I am filled with hope for the future, as they (much as I) had an invisible sign to every little thought and movement they made that said, ”This is me, try me, see if I give a fuck what you think!”
Then... a woman (she said she was a lesbian) started hitting on me.. I hate it when they do that.. Especially when I clearly sense, that in male form they wouldn't spare me a word or a second glance. But I did also meet a most charming and intelligent young guy, they DO exist, but again very very young was he, perhaps a little too.... :o)
All in all a good evening and I got to walk rather long through the city, in my super white ”walkability” 10 (though only 4 inch) leather stiletto heels. LOVE that, just walking down the street... Ok I admit it, you don't have to look at me that way.. I LOOOOVE it, when the cars honked their horn passing by, in salute to my feminin contribution to the streetview, all five times in fact ;o)
To be honest, it usually flatters me in such a degree I smile involuntarily, in bliss and thanks.. Though I try my best not to look in the direction of the cars, as it happenes I am quite familiar with the male system of comunication and content.
One can smile, blush and look down. But smiling facing a person, is a tiny, small invitation.
Transvestit København Danmark
Having explained everything to my Stranger N°91 I was able to get straight on with taking my photos of my Stranger N°92.
Meet Laurence, she's Jean-Louis's wife, she was married before and has 3 children from that marriage. She was born in the region and they now live near Lannion (about 10km from here). They were in Perros for an afternoon out.
Laurence is a nurse and when she was younger she had wanted to be a doctor. When she's not working she enjoys sport, especially "footing" which I think is called "shore walking" in English. Walking in the sea at a depth of about waist height. She also enjoys just walking too.
I took my photos where I had taken Jean-Louis but at least in my main photo of her the red awning hasn't shown up quite so much. I have added a second photo of her too, which I liked as she wasn't looking at the camera. I also wanted to keep her scarf in the shots as I love the colour and that it went so well with her colouring.
I then asked her what she hadn't liked as a child. When I'd asked Jean-Louis I had asked Laurence if she'd walk away a bit, so she didn't hear the question. I found that if I had two people in front of me and both were willing to take part it, I got a better "Don't like" photo from the 2nd person, when they hadn't heard the question. Laurence didn't and still doesn't like café au lait, but loves black coffee.
Before I took my "Don't like" photo I had to stop as I hadn't shown her the results of her main photos as I had to Jean-Louis. Once she'd seen that they were OK I got my last photo, which I had to take 3 of before I was happy with it!
We all chatted about photography, the project and food dislikes before we said our thanks and went our separate ways.
100 Strangers (Round I) www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/sets/72157627810663376/
100 Strangers (Round II) www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/sets/72157632333365533/
100 Strangers (Round III) www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/sets/72157634454644547...
100 Strangers Group www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/
Merci beaucoup Laurence.
Thank you for your favourites. :O)
I'd much rather not explain abstract photos because I think they should be about what YOU feel, think, remember, or what moves in you when you see them.
I'm redoing my site, but when you have a chance please visit:
and let me know what you think.
Danielle Paterson and Harrison Cole in 'Guy Fawkes It Up!" by Laughing Mirror theatre company, at this year's Edinburgh Fringe.
The play was directed by Chad Porter. I know both Harrison and Chad from last year's Fringe when they were in 'The Baffling Adventures of Question-Mark Man'.
AF-S Nikkor 300mm f/4E PF VR on Nikon 1 J5 using FT1 adaptor. 60 frame focus stack shot as JPEG Basic Small with Nikon Z6 and AF-S Nikkor 20mm f/1.8G.
It’s been a while (:. I will explain everything once I get back from my excursions and adventures in Montana in a few days when I return to Los Angeles... my house and LEGO-haven location!
Note: Sorry for the ugliness of my face... if you feel a burning sensation in your eyes look away haha. Also... comments and requests are always appreciated! Ask me any questions!
For centuries, the former royal abbey of Saint-Denis illuminated the artistic, political and spiritual history of the Frankish world.
The abbey-church was designated a "basilica" in Merovingian times. In the 12th century the abbot of Saint-Denis, Suger, still qualified it in his works as a "basilica". This qualifier was applied from the 4th century to churches whose floor plans were the same as those of Roman civic buildings with three naves, used for trade and the administration of justice. They were often erected outside towns and over the tomb of a saint. They were the site of a major pilgrimage and often the cause for the development of a neighbourhood or borough, like the town of Saint-Denis, which developed around the abbey and its economic potential.
Basilica is also an honorary title given to all kinds of churches, of all eras, that were the seat of a major pilgrimage. Only a cathedral is of superior rank. In 1966, the basilica was elevated to cathedral status, a name derived from "cathedra", meaning the seat of the bishop, the head of the diocese located there. A copy of the throne of Dagobert, the original of which is in the Cabinet des Médailles of the Bibliothèque Nationale, is currently used by the bishop as an episcopal see.
The first building rises from the tomb of Saint Denis, a missionary bishop who died under the yoke of Roman rule in the second part of the 3rd century. The body of the saint attracted many princely burials around him from the late 4th century. Besides a partly Carolingian crypt, the remains of the building consecrated in the presence of Charlemagne in 775, the basilica preserves the testimony of buildings that were decisive for the evolution of religious architecture: the façade (1135-1140) and the apse (1140 -1144), the work of abbot Suger, which constitute a hymn to light, a manifesto of new early Gothic art; other parts of the present church built in the time of Saint Louis from 1230 to 1280 are a testimony of the heyday of Gothic art, known as "Rayonnant", such as the exceptionally vast transept accommodating the royal tombs.
A place of remembrance from the early Middle Ages, the Dionysian monastery was able to link its fate to that of the monarchy, gradually asserting itself as the privileged tomb of the royal dynasties, taking advantage of the cult of Saint Denis. Forty-two kings, thirty-two queens, sixty-three princes and princesses and ten men of the kingdom rest in peace there. With over seventy recumbent effigies and monumental tombs, the royal necropolis of the basilica is today the most significant group of funerary sculptures from the 12th to the 16th century in Europe.
But the basilica of Saint-Denis was not the "graveyard of the kings" from the beginning of the Frankish kingdom as qualified by a chronicler of the 13th century. Until the 10th century, the abbey was in fierce competition with many other cemeteries, especially with Saint-Germain-des-Prés. At the accession of the Capetians in 987, its role as a royal necropolis gradually became confirmed and most sovereigns were buried there until the 19th century; although, for political, religious or personal reasons, some kings, like Philip I in 1108, Louis VII in 1180, Louis XI in 1483, Charles X in 1836 and Louis-Philippe in 1850, would be buried in other places. Louis XVIII, who died in 1824, was the last king to be buried in the basilica.
Throughout history the Frankish kings were always in search of legitimacy, which partly explains their will to be buried with the relics of Saint Denis, Rusticus and Eleutherius (all three having been martyred together). By way of their powers, the kings thought they had acquired power and protection during their life, particularly for their battles, and for going directly to Paradise.
The rallying cry of the knights on the battlefield in the 12th and 13th centuries, "Montjoie Saint Denis!", inscribed on the scarlet banner, interspersed with the golden flames of the famous oriflamme of Saint-Denis, became the motto of the kingdom of France, which was thus placed under the protection of the titular saint of the kingdom, Saint Denis. This standard is a beautiful image of the personal union between the abbey, the patron saint and the king. This ensign was always raised in time of war by the rulers who came to collect it from the hands of the abbot on the altar of the holy martyrs. It is one of the major objects of the mediaeval epic around which a first national sentiment formed. A 1913 copy, little conform to the original, remains in the basilica.
The Hundred Years' War, the Wars of Religion and political unrest contributed to the decline of the royal abbey of Saint-Denis long before the Revolution precipitated matters. In 1793, revolutionaries attacked the symbols of the monarchy, but the basilica escaped total destruction. In 1806, Napoleon Bonaparte ordered the restoration of the building. Then Louis XVIII restored the role of necropolis to the abbey. The restoration work continued throughout the 19th century and was conducted, in particular, by architects François Debret and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc from 1846.
2 - A royal monument
Burials before the 13th century
The rich and influential Parisian noblewoman, Saint Geneviève, showed special devotion to Saint Denis. She undoubtedly had the tomb of Saint Denis expanded or had a building built around it in 475. The development of a vast necropolis, which extended well beyond the church, in the 6th and 7th centuries, led to expanding the church.
Many high-ranking figures, mostly women, were then buried "ad sanctos" as close to the saint as possible. The discovery in 1959 of the sarcophagus of Queen Arnegunde, daughter-in-law of Clovis, who died around 580, shows the power of attraction of the sanctuary in this early period. The jewellery associated with her burial is kept in the Musée d'archéologie nationale du Domaine de Saint-Germain-en-Laye.
Fifty years later, in 639, King Dagobert was the first Frankish king to be buried in the basilica of Saint-Denis. Some Merovingians and Carolingians were buried there, such as Charles Martel, Pepin the Short and Emperor Charles the Bald.
Dagobert distinguished himself by making generous donations to the abbey and legend has it that he created the Saint-Denis fair that was held each October and was a great source of wealth for the monastery.
Charles Martel died in 741. Even though he was only the Mayor of the Palace he was given a prestigious burial, opposite the great King Dagobert. He thus enabled his family, the Pippinids, future Carolingians, to rise to the ranks of the greatest noblemen. His recumbent effigy, created in the 13th century, shows him crowned as the Capetians considered him as the ancestor of the great Carolingian dynasty.
Pepin the Short, the son of Charles Martel, was anointed by Pope Stephen II at Saint-Denis in July 754, thus sealing the alliance between the Frankish kings and the papacy. He was the first Frankish sovereign to be crowned as the image of God on earth in the image of king David. On this occasion he had the church rebuilt along the lines of the Roman buildings known as basilicas. Featuring a wooden ceiling, dozens of marble columns and decorated with thousands of oil lamps, for the first time it was combined with a crypt that housed the relics of Saint Denis until the 12th century. A few remains of this Roman-style martyrium, decorated with paintwork imitating marble, can still be seen.
Recumbent effigies said to be commissioned by Saint Louis
Louis IX (Saint Louis), who was canonised in 1297, was called a "superman" by the pope. A man of great faith, this king was particularly attached to Saint-Denis. He continuously strengthened the basilica’s role as a royal necropolis. The series of 16 recumbent effigies, said to be commissioned by Saint Louis in around 1265, is the largest funerary sculpture series of the European Middle Ages. Today 14 of the original sculptures remain. They are placed in both arms of the transept, virtually in their old locations evidenced by 18th-century engravings.
The mediaeval effigies, said to be commissioned by Saint Louis, are designed on the model of the statue-columns that decorate church portals. In the 13th century, they were among the first funerary sculptures made for the abbey of Saint-Denis. Previously, only the engraved stone slabs arranged on the floor near the altar marked the location of the royal tombs. The reorganisation of the necropolis, launched by the Capetian rulers, led to the discovery and transfer of the remains of the 16 sovereigns, buried between the 7th and 12th centuries. Their bones were then placed in boxes above which 16 recumbent figures with idealised faces were installed, a majestic expression of the royal function. The mode of representation of these sculptures is relatively uniform. The sovereigns wear a crown and carry a sceptre. These recumbent effigies, which were originally painted in bright colours, are dressed in the fashion of the 13th century. They are not represented dead; they have their eyes open to the eternal light. They assert belief in the Resurrection. They are turned towards the east, towards the sunrise, the image of Christ whose return they await.
But the layout desired by the Capetian rulers was also political. Through this grandiose setting, Louis IX developed the myth of monarchical continuity between the Merovingians, Carolingians and Capetians and aimed to link his family to Charlemagne, the most impressive figure in mediaeval monarchical ideology.
The inscriptions on the new tombs identify the kings and queens and clarify the genealogies. In the Middle Ages, in the centre of the transept, the gilded silver tombs of Louis VIII and Philip Augustus, the grandfather of Saint Louis, victor of the Battle of Bouvines in 1214, had the places of honour. The central tomb of the series is that of Louis VIII, the father of Louis IX. Indeed, according to the Dominican Vincent of Beauvais, an intimate of Saint Louis, the mixed blood of the Carolingians and Capetians flowed in the veins of Louis VIII as his mother, Isabella of Hainaut, was of Carolingian ancestry. It thus symbolises, in the Capetian family, "the return to the throne of the race of Charlemagne". Indeed, in the 11th century, Saint Valery had prophesied that the Capetian kingdom could only be maintained up to the seventh king, which was precisely Philip Augustus, father of Louis VIII.
This series was completed in around 1280 by erecting a magnificent tomb of goldsmithery in honour of Saint Louis, "the most beautiful tomb in the world" according to his chronicler Guillaume de Nangis. It was destroyed, as well as the other goldsmithery tombs, during the Hundred Years' War.
Thus the accomplishment of this sculpted series ensured the title of royal necropolis to Saint Denis, to which its abbots had long aspired, and offered the Capetian dynasty a legitimacy and prestige that it had hitherto been lacking.
.. how scientific claims behind cancer, vaccines, psychiatric drugs and GMOs are nothing more than corporate funded science fraud
Sadly, what often passes for “science” today in the world of health is little more than “Scientism” — a dangerous cult founded on...
Honestly Vincent had been looking forward to flying the skies with Damien despite everything that had happened between them recently. The engines were fired up and they were off for hours! It felt like old times with just the two of them. It was good to have one-on-one time again now that they weren't fighting. He was still clinging to the hope that things would go back to normal.
But while Vincent was smiling and chuckling...it was just a facade. What should have been a fun evening out instead had been secretly ruined for him. He had to put on a brave face because he sure as Hell wasn't about to tell Damien that he was thinking about Aiden and Charlie the Octopus (as he very recently and bitterly dubbed her). Even Damien and all the strong herb he could smoke couldn't stop those intrusive thoughts and images of the two of them together and all the what-ifs of what could be. And to top it all off he KNEW this was illogical!
The next morning after a restless sleep, Vincent groggily found himself standing alone with a steaming mug of coffee while staring up at Aiden's vacant hammock. He...he missed Aiden. What was up with that? He'd just seen him yesterday afternoon! There was no reason to be missing him already! Yet he was oblivious of the prevalent look of longing upon his face that suggested otherwise.
Damien returned very shortly afterwards with breakfast. He insisted on sticking around and keeping Vincent company while waiting. Aiden wasn't expected until noon and there was still a couple hours to go so Vincent was glad to have some sort of distraction again.
When Aiden arrived at the appointed time, he was greeted by Vincent and Damien up on the deck waiting for him while Vincent smoked from his pipe. It was the best way for Vincent to keep himself centered while they'd waited. Yet, if you'd looked at him you'd never guess anything was amiss. Thankfully, the moment his eyes rested on Aiden, relief filled him. That was better. However, there was still the matter of wanting to know how things had gone last night...
Aiden quickly put up his overnight bag and rejoined his crewmates on the top deck with Eugene the mechanical hermit crab in hand. He flashed a grin at Vincent as he took a seat down on the ground next to where his captain sat on a crate. With his legs spread out wide, Aiden set Eugene down on the floorboards and watched as he crawled around. With an impish little smile Aiden glanced up at Damien and gestured towards his creation.
"Damien, meet Eugene! I made him while you were gone. I used Fulgora's Eye just like with Pete!"
"You...you made another one."
"I did! He's adorable, isn't he? He just moves around aimlessly forever and ever and ever!"
"Yes," Damien agreed with a wry smile. He obviously didn't think so. "Absolutely ...adorable."
Aiden knew Damien didn't think much of him or his ideas. Likewise, Aiden didn't think much of Damien, so was he antagonizing him a little bit? Yes, he was! Pretending that Damien had meant it after all, Aiden grinned a little wider and responded enthusiastically, "Right?! Vincent thought so, too! You should have seen how tiny the screws were! I had a lot of fun breaking apart the Fulgora's Eye and chipping off a piece tiny enough to fit inside and..."
Vincent smirked a little to himself and said nothing as Aiden launched into one of his excited explanations about how he'd done it. He basically gave Damien a taste of his own medicine by not letting him get much of a word in. Nearly three minutes passed and Aiden was STILL talking about Fulgora's Eye and Vincent could see Damien was already spacing out. Vincent, however, was still following along interestedly.
When Aiden finished his excited rant one more minute after that, Vincent chuckled and told him, "Good! I'm glad you're making good use of the Fulgora's Eye." Though, opposite him, Damien sneered, "Good use? Eh, if you say so. At least the lantern is somewhat useful."
Aiden's head snapped up in defense and he opened his mouth to buck back when he saw Vincent's silent, pleading look; begging him to not say anything. So instead Aiden closed his mouth and scooped Eugene into his hand and held him close and tried not to let Damien get to him. This was bullshit. Utter...bullshit...
"We had a marvelous time last night! Leon's Claw is in great condition by the way," Damien informed Aiden with a small grin as he strode over and stood on Vincent's other side. "After sitting these two months on her ass there were no problems whatsoever getting her up in the air!"
Vincent chuckled and shifted off the crate and gave a small little stretch as he responded, "Well, thank Aiden! He's done a great job keeping the engines running and the ship ready to go at any time. Did you really think I was going to let my ship sit all this time as if she were dead in the water? Speaking of, I'd like to get back on schedule as soon as possible." Deflecting to the safer, new topic Vincent turned to look at his crewmates and huffed, "My uncle has been delayed further in his return to the capital. I need to speak with him before we make our final arrangements. He better be back before the ball or else I'd hate to be in his shoes when Aunt Jennifer finally gets a hold of him..."
Had...had Vincent not told Damien about their moonlit flight? Aiden wondered. He tried to listen as Damien and Vincent discussed how soon after the ball they'd be leaving. But instead his mind was occupied by the idea that Vincent and he shared a secret knowledge of a wonderful night together sailing the skies during the full moon.
Not long after Damien suggested that they head out to let Aiden settle in. Vincent didn't really want to go but he wanted to talk to Aiden in private. It would be easier to do that if Damien thought he was leaving, too. They had managed to skirt around yesterday's details. He'd not told Damien that Aiden had gone to the Dubois manor for dinner alone nor that there had been a gathering yesterday in Vincent's office beforehand. It wasn't that Aiden or he were doing anything wrong, right? He didn't 'have' to tell Damien everything that went on in his life!
After managing to shake Damien off half an hour later Vincent returned to Leon's Claw while trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach. Not knowing the details was eating at him! Yet in his calm voice he called out, "Aiden?"
"I'm here! Come on down!"
When Vincent made his descent, he found Aiden sitting atop his hammock and leaning back against the wall with his knees drawn up and forearms resting over his knees. In his hand was Eugene, who was turned off. It was as if he simply was wanting to hold something in his hands. There was no sign of Aiden's sketchbook or tools beside him. It appeared he was just...sitting. Aiden rarely just sat there unless something was heavy on mind. But he saw how Aiden sat up a bit more and his smile lighting up upon seeing him. With a small, curious tilt of his head Aiden asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, everything's fine. I-I was wanting to speak with you in private is all," Vincent explained with a slight smile. "About yesterday."
In private? That all but confirmed it, Aiden realized. Vincent really hadn't told Damien much of any of what's been going on lately. He felt his stomach fill with butterflies that Vincent had come to see him...just him.
"What about yesterday?" Aiden wondered aloud to him to which Vincent simply smiled as he leaned against one of the pillars.
"Ah, nothing serious. I was simply wanting to know how your evening was at my aunt's. Did you have a good time?"
Vincent gave a soft chuckle as Aiden lit up with an enthusiastic nod and exclaimed, "I did! I swear if I could eat Mrs. Faris' cooking again, I could die happy!"
"Without a doubt her cooking is worth visiting home for every time. What did she make?"
"Shepherd's pie!"
"I'm jealous! I don't think I've had that since last Summer."
"Next time, you should come with me! I'm going back over there on Monday afternoon!"
Wait...Aiden was going back over there on Monday? But why? Wetting his lips and ignoring the feeling of a rock sitting in his stomach, Vincent dared to ask, "What's happening on Monday?"
"Oh, I'm practicing with Charlotte for the masquerade! She even offered to come as my plus one."
"I see. Good for you! That's wonderful. I appreciate the invitation but I have plans that day. I'm sure you'll do great. Like I said, you've already got natural talent."
Vincent gave a nod and forced a smile to indicate his approval despite feeling as though he'd just been slapped. Apparently, Abigail hadn't kept an eye on things as much as he'd hoped she would. The idea of going back to his family home on Monday with Aiden didn't sound appealing at all; not if he was going to be subjected to watching Charlie and Aiden dancing and looking so fucking perfect together...
"Anyway," Vincent quickly added as his gaze diverted and pretended not to be bothered, "I'm glad things went well but I should take my leave. I'll be in touch."
Already?! Aiden didn't want Vincent to go yet! He'd only just gotten here! He quickly suggested, "You don't have to go yet. Did you want to stay and smoke together?"
"As tempting as that is, I really must be going. Maybe next time. Have a pleasant day. I'll see you soon."
"Oh, okay. See you soon."
And with that, Vincent left, leaving Aiden sitting atop his hammock with a small furrow on his brow and feeling even more troubled than before Vincent had arrived. That hadn't been Vincent's real smile. He knew his captain enough to be able to tell the difference. Aiden didn't like it when Vincent fake-smiled...but why do it to begin with? What was wrong?
...
The following week felt like a blur for Vincent. With the masquerade being less than a week away now and preparations to be made for leaving the capital in the near future, it was easy to keep himself busy. Plus, his uncle had finally returned after his massive but unavoidable delay. Unfortunately, that meant there was even MORE to be done with much less time to do it. Thankfully he had made it back in time! At least it helped keep Vincent's mind occupied...
Today, Vincent was due to meet with Damien and run a few errands for the ship's business. Once that was all taken care of, then he'd be heading to his most anticipated and final stop of the week: Rosamund's!
Rosamund warmly welcomed the captain and his first mate to her wagon. It had been since last Summer since she'd seen Damien. However, this time she observed the two of them with a slightly different lens now that she was aware that not all had been well with them lately.
It was a profitable meeting for both parties. Deals were struck, a late lunch of venison was shared, herb was smoked, and the day was going swell thus far! Vincent was happy with everything and he made sure Rosamund was well compensated for her wares and sensitive, particular information of which he'd not be able to find out otherwise regarding some rivals and competition. He was eagerly looking forward to the day here very soon where he'd be inviting Aiden along on these sort of meetings and get him fully integrated into the crew of Leon's Claw. In fact, he already had plans to do so after things settled down from the ball before heading back to the skies.
Once everything was all said and done, Rosamund escorted her guests back into the bustling city. She needed to run an errand there so they decided to walk together. Once they made it to where they needed to part, Vincent and Damien began to bid their hostess a final farewell. As Damien was chuckling and speaking with Rosamund, Vincent turned to look around at the city and...felt like he was suddenly punched very, very hard in the stomach.
Across the road and completely oblivious to Vincent's staring was Aiden. And he wasn't alone. Looking more mature and grown up than Vincent had ever seen her was Charlotte. She had her hands ('More like tentacles,' Vincent thought to himself) wrapped around Aiden's arm as he escorted her along. They were smiling! And laughing! At least they weren't completely alone. One of the family lady's maids was following behind a short distance away as a chaperone of sorts.
Vincent was aware that they were meeting for dance practices this week but what the Hell were they doing all the way out here?! The longer Vincent stared, the worse he felt! It felt like everything inside him was clenching painfully. And to make matters worse, Damien had suddenly noticed them as well.
"Is that-? It is!" Damien exclaimed with a wide grin. "Who would have thought it, eh, Vincent?" He set his elbow atop Vincent's shoulder and lightly leaned against him as he watched the young couple walk together from afar. Vincent folded his arms across his chest as Rosamund came up alongside Vincent's other side. She brought her hand up over her brows and peered around.
"Who are we talking about?"
"See the blond man with the blue shirt over there? That's our engineer: Aiden," Damien explained. Vincent silently begged him to stop talking, but Damien did not. He cheerfully continued, "And the beauty on his arm is Vincent's cousin. I had no idea they were courting! This is brilliant!"
"Ooh, I see! He's real easy on the eyes, too," Rosamund responded with an appreciative smile as she appraised Aiden's appearance from afar. With a smirk she gently nudged Vincent's arm and demanded, "So when were you planning to introduce us?! I forgot you said you had a new engineer!"
Vincent turned towards Rosamund and with absolutely no emotion on his face or in his tone as he responded simply, "Very soon. Forgive me, I just remembered I have a sudden urgent matter to attend to."
"Wait, Vincent! Where are you going?"
Ignoring Damien's demands and Rosamund's bewildered expression, Vincent continued to briskly walk away in the opposite direction of his associates and the direction Aiden and Charlotte were heading. He...he needed to go home. Now. He was done. Just...so fucking done with everything.
---
NEXT PART: (Soon to come!)
To select another chapter (or even start from the beginning), here's the album link:
www.flickr.com/photos/153660805@N05/albums/72157717075565127
***Please note this is a BOY LOVE (LGBTQ+) series. It is a slow burn and is rated YOUNG ADULT!***
Special thank you to my husband Vin for collaborating with me on this series and co-starring as The Captain! And BIG THANK YOU to Vin for also putting together all these poses and being my hero! ♥
And also thank you to Mythra Rose-Älskling for starring, once again, as our lovely Rosamund!
*** This scene was taken in Second Life at Victorian London - Time Portal! When you first land, head down the main road and just as you come to the main city square, look straight ahead across the courtyard and you'll find the location for this scene!
You can check out this AMAZING roleplay-type parcel and even rent from there! Its so realistic! Seriously! The details here are incredible!
DISCORD SERVER: That's right! The Captain and the Engineer has a Discord Server! If you would like to join and chat with other crewmates and see what's new and happening before it gets posted to Flickr, click the link!
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Day 63.
(sooc)
I suppose I should explain myself,
when I got back from Italy I had a really hard time dealing with the fact that I was really back here
living life day to day as usual
and so some of these photos were meant to be more therapeutic to me,
instead of new and innovative photography ideas.
And sunshine is healing.
Sports infographic explaining a new take on the physics of knucleballs. Adobe Illustrator, ink pen and watercolours.
Ealing Broadway, London - August 2023
Rolleiflex 2.8 E2, Ilford HP5 B&W Film
This family were sitting on a bench and I just had to ask for a photo. Muhammed, the father, was initially reluctant for me to take a photo, but after I explained that I am a street photographer and showed him some examples of my work, he agreed and asked his kids to sit up straight for the camera. One of the kids even tried to stand up and not be in the photo, but he quickly ordered her to sit down.
After I emailed a copy of the photo to Muhammed, he asked if I could send a colour version. It was difficult to explain that I used film and it was only black and white, although of course, these days, there are apps that could probably colorise it.
Check out my YouTube channel for more street photography content: www.youtube.com/@StreetPhotographyChina/