View allAll Photos Tagged fail
After running from Kalgoorlie towards Parkeston to assist a failed 5MP9, Q4005 had made it only a couple of hundred metres before itself failed with Q4005,SCT015,SCT007 once again a failure and waiting for another assistance loco on 13-7-13
"the artists of the "Casa del Musical" group (House of Musical)".
“gli artisti del gruppo "Casa del Musical".
-----------------------------------------------------------------
click to activate the icon of slideshow: the small triangle inscribed in the small rectangle, at the top right, in the photostream;
or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;
www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
……………………………………………………………………….
A history of Taormina: chronicles of a forbidden love and its great secret (not only Paolo and Francesca) with an unexpected "scoop".
This story is an integral part of the story previously told, the historical period is the same, the place is the same, the various characters often meet each other because they know each other; Taormina, between the end of the 1800s and the beginning of the 1900s, in an ever increasing growth, became the place of residence of elite tourism, thanks to the international interest aroused by writers and artists, such as Johann Wolfgang von Goethe , or great personalities like Lady Florence Trevelyan: Taormina becomes so famous, thanks to the paintings of the painter Otto Geleng and the photographs of the young Sicilian models by Wilhelm von Gloeden; in the air of Taormina there is a sense of libertine, its famous and histrionic visitors never fail to create scandal, even surpassing the famous Capri, in which, to cite just one example, the German gunsmith Krupp, trying to recreate the he environment of Arcadia that one breathed in Taormina (thanks to the photos of von Gloeden) was overwhelmed by the scandal for homosexuality, and took his own life. Taormina thus becomes a heavenly-like place, far from industrial civilizations, where you can freely live your life and sexuality; this is the socio-cultural environment in which the two protagonists of this story move, the British painter Robert Hawthorn Kitson (1873 - 1947) and the painter Carlo Siligato (born in Taormina in 1875, and died there in 1959). Robert H. Kitson, born in Leeds in England, belonged to a more than wealthy family, as a young engineer he had begun to replace his father in the family locomotive construction company (Kitson & Co.), on the death of his father in 1899 sells everything and decides to move very rich in Sicily to Taormina (he had been there the previous year with a trip made with his parents, here he had met, in addition to Baron von Gloeden, also the writer and poet Oscar Wilde who came to Italy, immediately after having served two years in prison in forced labor, on charges of sodomy); Kitson settled there because he was suffering from a severe form of rheumatic fever (like von Gloeden was advised to treat himself in the Mediterranean climate milder), and because as a homosexual, he leaves England because the Labouchere amendment considered homosexuality a crime. The other protagonist of this story is Carlo Siligato, he was from Taormina, he had attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, a very gifted painter, he was very good at oil painting (he exhibited his paintings in an art workshop, even now existing, in via Teatro Greco in Taormina), the meeting with the painter Robert Kitson, led him to adopt the watercolor technique: almost to relive Dante's verses on Paolo and Francesca "Galeotto was the book and who wrote it" the common passion for painting led the two artists to live an intense love story. Kitson built his home in the "Cuseni" district of Taormina, called for this "Casa Cuseni", the house was built between 1900 and 1905, its decorations were entrusted to the artists Alfred East (realist landscape painter, president of the Royal Society ), and Frank Brangwyn (painter, decorator, designer), he was a pupil of William Morris, leader of the English movement "Arts and Crafts" which spread to England in the second half of the nineteenth century (the Arts and Crafts was a response to the industrialization of Europe, of mass production operated by factories, all this at the expense of traditional craftsmanship, from this movement originated the Art Nouveau, in Italy also known as Liberty Style or Floral Style, which distinguished itself for having been a artistic and philosophical movement, which developed between the end of the 19th century and the first decade of the 20th century, whose style spread in such a way as to be present everywhere). Casa Cuseni has kept a secret for 100 years that goes far beyond the forbidden love lived by Robert and Carlo, a secret hidden inside the "secret room", that dinning room that was reopened in 2012; entering the dining room, you can witness a series of murals painted on the four walls by Frank Brangwyn, in Art Nouveau style, which portray the life and love story between the painter Robert Kitson, and his life partner, the Carlo Siligato from Taormina, but the thing that makes these murals even more special, full of tenderness and sweetness, is that "their secret" (!) is represented in them, it is described visually, as in an "episodic" story that really happened in their lives: Messina (and Reggio Calabria) are destroyed by the terrible earthquake with a tsunami on December 28, 1908, Carlo Siligato, Robert Kitson, Wilhelm von Gloeden and Anatole France leave for Messina, to see and document in person the tragedy, the city was a pile of rubble, many dead, Robert and Carlo see a baby, Francesco, he is alone in the world, without parents who died in the earthquake, abandoned to a certain and sad destiny, a deep desire for protection is born in the two of them, a maternal and paternal desire is born, they decide to takes that little child with them even knowing that they are risking a lot ... (!), what they want to do is something absolutely unthinkable in that historical period, they are a homosexual couple, what they are about to do is absolutely forbidden ..(!) but now there is Francesco in their life, thus becoming, in fact, the first homogenitorial family (with a more generic term, rainbow family) in world history: hence the need to keep the whole story absolutely hidden, both from an artistic point of view , represented by the murals (for more than 100 years, the "dinning room" will be kept hidden), both of what happens in real life, with little Francesco cared for lovingly, but with great risk or. I have allegorically inserted, in the photographic story, some photographs of the artists of the company "Casa del Musical", who came to Taormina to perform during the Christmas period: today as yesterday, Taormina has always been (starting from the last 20 years of the 19th century) center of a crossroads of artists and great personalities, Casa Cuseni also in this has an enormous palmares of illustrious guests, too long to state. The young boys painted on the murals of Casa Cuseni, wear white, this is a sign of purity, they wanted to represent their ideal homosexual world, fighting against the figure dressed in black, short in stature, disturbing, which acquires a negative value, an allegorical figure of the English society of the time, indicating the Victorian morality that did not hesitate to condemn Oscar Wilde, depriving him of all his assets and rights, even preventing him from giving the surname to his children. The boys are inspired by the young Sicilian models photographed by Wilhelm von Gloeden, dressed in white tunics, with their heads surrounded by local flowers. The only female figure present has given rise to various interpretations, one could be Kitson's detachment from his motherland, or his detachment from his mother. On the third wall we witness the birth of the homogenitorial family, both (allegorically Carlo and Kitson with the child in their arms) are in profile, they are walking, the younger man has a long, Greek-style robe, placed on the front, next to him behind him, the sturdier companion holds and gently protects the little child in his arms, as if to spare the companion the effort of a long and uncertain journey, there is in the representation of the family the idea of a long journey, in fact the man holding the child wears heavy shoes, their faces are full of apprehension and concern: in front of them an empty wall, so deliberately left by Frank Brangwin, since their future is unknown, in front of them they have a destiny full of unknowns (at the same time, their path points east, they go towards the rising sun: opening the large window the sun floods everything in the room). In the "secret room" there is the picture painted in 1912 by Alfred E. East, an oil on canvas, representing Lake Bourget. Carlo Siligato later married Costanza, she was my father's grandmother's sister, they had a son, Nino, who for many years lived and worked as a merchant in his father's art workshop. I sincerely thank my colleague Dr. Francesco Spadaro, doctor and esteemed surgeon, owner and director of the "Casa Cuseni" House-Garden-Museum, who, affectionately acting as a guide, gave me the precious opportunity to create "this photographic tour" inside the house- museum and in the "metaphysical garden" of Casa Cuseni. … And the scoop that I announced in the title ..? After photographing the tomb of Carlo Siligato, in the Catholic cemetery of Taormina, I started looking for that of Robert Kitson, in the non-Catholic cemetery of Taormina: when I finally found it (with him lies his niece Daphne Phelps, buried later in 2005) ... I felt a very strong emotion, first of all I was expecting a mausoleum, instead I found a small, very modest tomb on this is not a photo of him, not an epitaph, not a Cross, not a praying Angel to point it out, but ... unexpectedly for a funerary tombstone ... a small bas-relief carved on marble (or stone) depicting ... the Birth ... (!), obviously , having chosen her could have a very specific meaning: a desire to transmit a message, something very profound about him, his tomb thus testified that in his soul, what was really important in life was having a family, with Carlo and baby Francesco, certainly beloved, saved from a certain and sad fate, in the terrible Messina earthquake-tsunami of 28 December 1908 ... almost recalling in an absolute synthesis, at the end of his life, what had already been told in the "secret murals" of Casa Cuseni.
…………………………………………………………………..
Una storia di Taormina: cronache di un amore proibito e del suo grande segreto (non solo Paolo e Francesca) con inaspettato “scoop”.
Questa storia fa parte integrante della storia precedentemente raccontata, il periodo storico è lo stesso, il luogo è lo stesso, i vari personaggi spesso si frequentano tra loro poiché si conoscono; Taormina, tra la fine dell’800 e l’inizio del’900, in un sempre maggiore crescendo, diventa luogo di residenza del turismo d’élite, grazie all’interesse internazionale suscitato ad opera di scrittori ed artisti, come Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, o grandi personalità come Lady Florence Trevelyan: Taormina diventa così famosa, complici i quadri del pittore Otto Geleng e le fotografie dei giovani modelli siciliani di Wilhelm von Gloeden; nell’aria di Taormina si respira un che di libertino, i suoi famosi ed istrionici frequentatori non mancano mai di creare scandalo, superando persino la famosa Capri, nella quale, per citare solo un esempio, l’armiere tedesco Krupp, cercando di ricreare l’ambiente dell’Arcadia che si respirava a Taormina (grazie alle foto di von Gloeden) viene travolto dallo scandalo per omosessualità, e si toglie la vita. Taormina diviene quindi un luogo simil-paradisiaco, lontana dalle civiltà industriali, nella quale poter vivere liberamente la propria vita e la propria sessualità; questo è l’ambiente socio-culturale nel quale si muovono i due protagonisti di questa vicenda, il pittore britannico Robert Hawthorn Kitson (1873 – 1947) ed il pittore Carlo Siligato (nato a Taormina nel 1875, ed ivi morto nel 1959). Robert H. Kitson, nacque a Leeds in Inghilterra, apparteneva ad una famiglia più che benestante, da giovane ingegnere aveva cominciato a sostituire il padre nell’impresa familiare di costruzioni di locomotive (la Kitson & Co.), alla morte del padre nel 1899 vende tutto e decide di trasferirsi ricchissimo in Sicilia a Taormina (vi era stato l’anno precedente con un viaggio fatto coi suoi genitori, qui aveva conosciuto, oltre al barone von Gloeden, anche lo scrittore e poeta Oscar Wilde venuto in Italia, subito dopo aver scontato due anni di prigione ai lavori forzati, con l’accusa di sodomia); Kitson vi si stabilisce perché affetto da una grave forma di febbre reumatica (come von Gloeden gli fu consigliato di curarsi nel clima mediterraneo più mite), sia perché in quanto omosessuale, lascia l’Inghilterra perché l’emendamento Labouchere considerava l’omosessualità un crimine. L’altro protagonista di questa storia è Carlo Siligato, egli era taorminese, aveva frequentato l’Accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia, pittore molto dotato, era bravissimo nel dipingere ad olio (esponeva i suoi quadri in una bottega d’arte, ancora adesso esistente, in via Teatro Greco a Taormina), l’incontro col pittore Robert Kitson, lo portò ad adottare la tecnica dell’acquarello: quasi a rivivere i versi di Dante su Paolo e Francesca “Galeotto fu ‘l libro e chi lo scrisse” la comune passione per la pittura condusse i due artisti a vivere una intensa storia d’amore. Kitson costruì nel quartiere “Cuseni” di Taormina la sua abitazione, detta per questo “Casa Cuseni”, la casa fu costruita tra il 1900 ed il 1905, le sue decorazioni furono affidate agli artisti Alfred East (pittore verista paesaggista, presidente della Royal Society), e Frank Brangwyn (pittore, decoratore, designer, progettista), egli era allievo di William Morris, leader del movimento inglese “Arts and Crafts” (Arti e Mestieri) che si diffuse in Inghilterra nella seconda metà del XIX secolo (l’Arts and Crafts era una risposta alla industrializzazione dell’Europa, della produzione in massa operata dalle fabbriche, tutto ciò a scapito dell’artigianato tradizionale, da questo movimento ebbe origine l’Art Nouveau, in Italia conosciuta anche come Stile Liberty o Stile Floreale, che si distinse per essere stata un movimento artistico e filosofico, che si sviluppò tra la fine dell’800 ed il primo decennio del ‘900, il cui stile si diffuse in tal modo da essere presente dappertutto). Casa Cuseni ha custodito per 100 anni un segreto che va ben oltre quell’amore proibito vissuto da Robert e Carlo, segreto celato all’interno della “stanza segreta”, quella dinning room che è stata riaperta nel 2012; entrando nella sala da pranzo, si assiste ad una serie di murales realizzati sulle quattro pareti da Frank Brangwyn, in stile Art Nouveau, che ritraggono la vita e la storia d’amore tra il pittore Robert Kitson, ed il suo compagno di vita, il pittore taorminese Carlo Siligato, ma la cosa che rende questi murales ancora più particolari, carichi di tenerezza e dolcezza, è che in essi viene rappresentato “il loro segreto” (!), viene descritto visivamente, come in un racconto “ad episodi” quello che è realmente avvenuto nella loro vita: Messina (e Reggio Calabria) vengono distrutte dal terribile sisma con maremoto il 28 dicembre del 1908, partono per Messina, Carlo Siligato, Robert Kitson, Wilhelm von Gloeden ed Anatole France, per vedere e documentare di persona la tragedia, la città era un cumulo di macerie, moltissimi i morti, Robert e Carlo vedono un piccolo bimbo, Francesco, egli è solo al mondo, privo dei genitori periti nel terremoto, abbandonato ad un certo e triste destino, nasce in loro due un profondo desiderio di protezione, nasce un desiderio materno e paterno, decidono di prende quel piccolo bimbo con loro pur sapendo che stanno rischiando moltissimo…(!) , quello che vogliono fare è una cosa assolutamente impensabile in quel periodo storico, loro sono una coppia omosessuale, quello che stanno per fare è assolutamente proibito..(!) ma oramai c’è Francesco nella loro vita, divenendo così, di fatto, la prima famiglia omogenitoriale (con termine più generico, famiglia arcobaleno) nella storia mondiale: da qui la necessità di tenere assolutamente nascosta tutta la vicenda, sia dal punto di vista artistico, rappresentata dai murales (per più di 100 anni, la “dinning room” verrà tenuta nascosta), sia di quanto accade nella vita reale, col piccolo Francesco accudito amorevolmente, ma con grandissimo rischio. Ho inserito allegoricamente, nel racconto fotografico, alcune fotografie degli artisti della compagnia “Casa del Musical”, giunti a Taormina per esibirsi durante il periodo natalizio: oggi come ieri, Taormina è sempre stata (a partire dagli ultimi 20 anni dell’800) al centro di un crocevia di artisti e grandi personalità, Casa Cuseni anche in questo ha un enorme palmares di ospiti illustri, troppo lungo da enunciare. I giovani ragazzi dipinti sui murales di Casa Cuseni, vestono di bianco, questo è segno di purezza, si è voluto in tal modo rappresentare il loro mondo ideale omosessuale, in lotta contro la figura vestita di nero, bassa di statura, inquietante, che acquista un valore negativo, figura allegorica della società inglese dell’epoca, indicante la morale Vittoriana che non ha esitato a condannare Oscar Wilde, privandolo di tutti i suoi beni e diritti, impedendogli persino di dare il cognome ai suoi figli. I ragazzi sono ispirati ai giovani modelli siciliani fotografati da Wilhelm von Gloeden, vestiti con tuniche bianche, col capo cinto dei fiori locali. L’unica figura femminile presente, ha dato spunto a varie interpretazioni, una potrebbe essere il distacco da parte di Kitson dalla sua madre patria, oppure il distacco da sua madre. Sulla terza parete si assiste alla nascita della famiglia omogenitoriale, entrambi (allegoricamente Carlo e Kitson col bimbo in braccio) sono di profilo, sono in cammino, l’uomo più giovane ha una veste lunga, alla greca, posto sul davanti, accanto a lui, alle sue spalle, il compagno più robusto sostiene in braccio e protegge con dolcezza il piccolo bimbo, quasi a voler risparmiare al compagno la fatica di un lungo ed incerto percorso, vi è nella rappresentazione della famiglia l’idea di un lungo percorso, infatti l’uomo che regge il bimbo indossa delle calzature pesanti, i loro volti sono carichi di apprensione e preoccupazione: davanti a loro una parete vuota, così volutamente lasciata da Frank Brangwin, poiché il loro futuro è ignoto, davanti hanno un destino pieno di incognite (al tempo stesso, il loro cammino indica l’est, vanno verso il sole nascente: aprendo la grande finestra il sole inonda ogni cosa nella stanza).
Nella “stanza segreta” c’è il quadro dipinto nel 1912 da Alfred E. East, un olio su tela, rappresentante il lago Bourget.
Carlo Siligato, successivamente si sposò con Costanza, una sorella della nonna di mio padre, da lei ebbe un figlio, Nino, il quale per tantissimi anni ha vissuto e lavorato come commerciante nella bottega d’arte del padre. Ringrazio di cuore il mio collega dott. Francesco Spadaro, medico e stimato chirurgo, proprietario e direttore della Casa-Giardino-Museo “Casa Cuseni”, il quale, facendomi affettuosamente da cicerone, mi ha dato la preziosa opportunità di realizzare “questo tour fotografico” all’interno dell’abitazione-museo e nel “giardino-metafisico” di Casa Cuseni.
…E lo scoop che ho annunciato nel titolo..? Dopo aver fotografato la tomba di Carlo Siligato, nel cimitero cattolico di Taormina, mi sono messo alla ricerca di quella di Robert Kitson, nel cimitero acattolico di Taormina: quando finalmente l’ho trovata (insieme a lui giace sua nipote Daphne Phelps, seppellita successivamente nel 2005)…ho provato una fortissima commozione, innanzitutto mi aspettavo un mausoleo, invece ho trovato una tomba piccola, molto modesta, su questa non una sua foto, non un epitaffio, non una Croce, non un Angelo pregante ad indicarla, ma … inaspettatamente per una lapide funeraria…un piccolo bassorilievo scolpito su marmo (o su pietra) raffigurante…la Natalità…(!), evidentemente, l’averla scelta potrebbe avere un significato ben preciso: un desiderio di trasmettere un messaggio, qualcosa di molto profondo di lui, la sua tomba testimoniava così che nel suo animo, ciò che in vita fu davvero importante fu l’aver avuto una famiglia, con Carlo e col piccolo Francesco, certamente amatissimo, salvato da un molto probabile triste destino, nel terribile terremoto-maremoto di Messina del 28 dicembre del 1908…quasi rievocando in una sintesi assoluta, al termine della sua vita, ciò che era già stato raccontato nei “murales segreti” di Casa Cuseni.
………………………………………………………………………………….
WCRC Ex Works Class 47 47813 on the Northern Belle, Denton - Manchester Victoria at Denton Before it failed 15/06/2022
To quote Firesign Theater, "She's no fun, she fell right over." That applies to the erstwhile chimney on this eastern shack. I already posted Longmont City's fail at Chimney Rock. Well, if nothing else, Chimey Rock still stands and I took some pictures of it although I have no idea why. This fail left a few traces. An implement tire died in the yard. On the other hand, the shingles may still shed some of the elements.
I can see that Trump was here golfing and broke some windows. That's not likely to happen at his canceled Bedminster PGA tourney. A lot of UV at this rental and a bit of wind and rain too! Was this an ag labor shack or an original home? It had actual shaped siding. It looks like it was seriously constructed.
II slipped back into another prairie shack when I found this eastern shack to edit. This adds to the abandoned farmstead homes northeast of Longmont, Colorado near I-25 north to Wyoming. Living here provides a great view of the Front Range, if a bit damp and breezy. I added it to my shacks album.
This could be ideal to hang some clothes to dry out on the clothes line on the other side... especially if that warm breeze comes up to help whack the bed bugs in the UV. Could air out the bedding at the same time. Boy, I better shed my jacket pretty soon! Both windows being open let the morning breezes slide right on through.
eDDie tracked me down Friday night and after breakfast with [Wyoming Wanderer] Frank, eDDie and I trekked out to shacks directly along I-25 and I almost filled my film card for the very first time with these collapsing shacks. Prairie land, indeed! This old tumbleweed trapping homestead was along the rural route and shot earlier than the Pelican Pond house as the sky was beginning to develop. We accidentally hit unexpected killer skies that developed in the middle morning. If it rains, I'd suggest some drop here but not inside!
66567 Apparently "failed on a ballast working which again didn't get dropped over night, there was another ballast behind this but we couldn't get the shed on it 25/02/2018
It has been three days since we were run off the road into the Wither Woods. I can see why our Rego was apprehensive on getting involved on the continent. What should have been a simple trip to the Avalonian capital has turned into a slaughter in the dark inside these woods. Death lurks in these trees. My contingent of solders has all but vanished and I know it is not cowardice or desertion.
I fear if I fall asleep, I may never wake, but I have not slept since we were attacked on that first night; I can fight it back no longer. We’ve situated camp on this crag over a stream; we will be safe on two sides, at least. Hirbod has the first watch. May his eyes, and ears, not fail us tonight.
-Sicuro
After weeks of no word from Sicuro or the contingent of men he led to Avalonia, rumor made its way to the Rego of Varlyrio. This whisper was enough to convince his minster of War and himself that isolation from the continent was prudent. Varlyrio would not send troops to the Battle of Historica.
This is my entry into the Guilds of Historica Book III Challenge V: Category A (which takes place in Book II). This lost diary entry explains what happened to the contingent of troops sent by the Rego of Varlyrio. Their disappearance solidifies his view that Varlyrio should stay out of the distant war.
The coniferous trees follow Katie Walker’s design while the odd-angled branched ones are based on Legopard’s Design. I found both by following this Brickbuilt Tutorial.
I hav Been gone for a month I know but the end of my sports season is coming hopefully I will stop being dead, I now have two large space ships the mds and the battle front along with the stupid fail mech that u see thanks. :)
31233 which failed at Shrewsbury was on rear of 3z01 Shrewsbury - Derby RTC,97302 was the leading locomotive.passing Cosford station on 11/01/2015
Actually I created this part about 2 months ago
I really wanted to fold a whole Indominus but finally I failed to make her overly long arms
It was beyond my capacity
I hope that I can make whole model someday
“Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.” - Frank Lloyd Wright
August 5, 2023 • University of Alberta Botanic Garden • Devon, AB
They say the first time ain't the greatest, but it was still a thrill! This is a 45 minute exposure, with a wide angle lens.
God on the Other Side of a Shipwreck
by Jonathon Martin, from How to Survive a Shipwreck
Meet Jonathon Martin
Your faith will not fail you
You’re Still Here
The first things overboard when your ship wrecked were all the reasons you ever had for sailing. And when the life you knew is a life you know no longer, and the ship that took you on a thousand adventures before can no longer even keep you afloat, you are right to wonder if there is anything left worth having.
There used to be so many things that we could not live without! How could you live without this person? How could you live without this job? How could you live without this relationship? How could you live without this house? How could you live without your dignity? How could you live without your good reputation? And then death came to someone you loved, or you lost the job, or you sabotaged the relationship or felt your love sabotaged you, or you suffered public humiliation, or you lost your all-important sense of honor. And you thought you really would die.
There was a part of you, maybe even a really large part of you, that really did. There are some losses that in their way mark you forever, and some things you never get over. And because you loved this person or this life and career you built, or valued your dignity, when the bow broke, everything in you screamed. While the sails were ripping and the boards splitting, you heard the sound of your spirit dying. The life you had was over. But to your own shame, you were not over, as much as you may have wanted to be.
Maybe like a proud samurai, it seemed the best thing you could do on the other side of the shipwreck was to fall on your own sword and stage a protest against anything you once found beautiful. Because you were so sad. Because you were so guilty. Because you were so scared that in the loss of something outside yourself, you lost your own heart to the sea’s black rage.
And then came what might be the worst discovery: You didn’t die — not really. You walked away from the accident, whether or not you think you or God or the devil or the fates are somehow responsible for it. You just knew you would die, and at times it felt like something in you did.
But not you. Not all of you, anyway.
The ship may have gone down, but miracle of miracles, you’re still here.
Can you remember the first time after the funeral, after you could not bear to eat or drink, that the pangs of hunger overwhelmed you? Did you feel incredulous at yourself, at the animal part of you that still wanted food after such a thing? What about when there was a particular taste you wanted, because it was a taste that on some level you actually desired? However much fog, however much sorrow, however much grief — the experience of loss may have altered your taste buds forever. But it hardly killed them.
You watched dreams you cradled in your arms with the strength of all your tenderness descend into the sea. All that animated you, all that moved you before, could move you forward in the world no longer. The water filled your mouth and your nostrils, and you choked at the taste of it. But when the grief or the guilt or the loss recedes into the night and your soul sets sail again, you still dream — despite yourself. There is still a kind of music you will hear that stirs within you an unspeakable longing. There is still an ache, not just for all you lost, but to see and know and be seen and known still, to explore and imagine and create.
However much the longing for the past may assault your senses, it is not the only longing that remains. There is still a part of you that wants to make love, to feel yourself somehow connected. There is still a part of you that yearns for something outside yourself. You felt yourself out to sea, and yet some kind of desire, for something or another, bears you along, and you find yourself still somehow here — almost against your own wishes. And even in the moments when anything that felt like conscious desire went out with the tide, there is still some kind of near-morbid curiosity of how your life and story are going to turn out — even if you are lost enough to only behold what’s left of your life as a kind of bystander.
Somewhere between your body’s animal refusal to go down quietly, your mind’s refusal to stop imagining, and your heart’s refusal to stop dreaming, in the tangled mess of synapses and memories and impulses, there lies God.
In whatever remains in you that wants to create, to make, to birth something new, in whatever corner that longs for some kind of resurrection on the other side of death, something divine quietly snaps, fires, clicks, flickers. This is the Spirit of God, lurking in your own broken spirit.
You may find that your grief and sense of loss over the world you once knew seem endless. And yet there are possibilities and potentialities within you that are more endless still.
What is this unseen force that carries you forward despite yourself? Why can you not seem to choke, always and forever, your own irrational yearning, this buried but still breathing hope for more?
This ache is God’s fingerprint.
The stirring to create, to love, to live, to give of yourself when there is no self left to give — this comes from the Spirit.
You were created in the image of God. Before you knew anyone or did anything, everything was in you necessary to live at home in divine love. However buried that image of God is within you, that part of you that knows what it is to be perfectly loved, held, and known — it is still very much there. There is a part of you that does not need anything else, or anyone else in particular, to be alive. There is a part of you that knows this — part of you that has always known this — but has long since forgotten.
The God who sustains all created things with love sustains you. The God who created the world not to be exploited, dominated, or needed, but to love and to enjoy without clinging, is awake in your belly. And so in you is the capacity to love and to live without needing the world to work out a certain way in order for you to be okay. Your life, your existence, is contingent on that Spirit. But it is not contingent on anyone else, or anything else.
This is the liberating, terrifying discovery of life on the other side of the shipwreck. That while you are a creature — humble, dependent, small, in need of love and food and Shelter — you didn’t need anything else as much as you thought you did. That the things you knew would kill you don’t actually kill you. That the fire in you the sea should have drowned out, burns within you yet, if you do not let yourself smother it (and maybe even if you do). So much of the world you have known is no more. But if there is any truth in any of this at all, the shipwreck that threatened to destroy you utterly may be the thing that saves you yet. It may not drown you; it may transfigure you.
And if there is something truthful, something larger, about this irrational lust for life that is forged in the fires of death, it says something too about the people you lost. For if there is a God who not only creates but sustains and resurrects, then there can yet be life on the other side of death for all things. Then there is hope, not only for the yearning in you to drive you into union with God, but to be realized in union with those others. If death is not the final word, and chaos produces creation rather than destroys it, then many of the stories of the life you thought were long over are far from over yet.
Believing this won’t mean you won’t still feel the weight of deep, sharp, piercing grief, or that you should feel guilty when you do. On the contrary, people who don’t experience deep pain have not experienced deep love and are not to be envied. That doesn’t mean they are shallow — all of our souls surely have something of the same depths — they just may not be aware of their own yet. That day will come for them. But when you feel your own deep capacity for passion, compassion, mourning, even rage, you are glimpsing something of your soul’s own infinite capacity to know, to feel, and to become. Within the depths of all you feel the most deeply, something of the Spirit’s own immortal depths is reflected in you.
We have a capacity for love and hope and beauty seemingly too big for our heads and hearts, because we are created in the image of God.
Excerpted from How to Survive a Shipwreck by Jonathan Martin, copyright Jonathan Martin.
It's 1039 at East Fortune, this train was booked to depart Stenton at 0440, and the final part of the HOBC starts to move. I suppose this is a rare catch as ballast is coming along the overhead conveyor belt and dropping onto the track. Railway workers are walking in front and at the side as it makes its way slowly towards the other two sections of the HOBC before connecting all together.
This was taken on the 31st January 2018 and caused chaos for most of the morning, blocking the Up line between Drem and Stenton, with single line working and numerous cancellations for Virgin East Coast, Cross Crountry and Scotrail.
I am not sure if the HOBC is working this part of the train as there is a couple of guys in the cab or Freightliner 66571 is pushing, I suspect the HOBC. To the rear of the train can be seen the top of a track machine that usually follows the HOBC.
Any further info on this train would be much appreciated
You can't really see it, but my heels gave out from under me and I almost fell over. So much for take two...
8F, 48431 had been dumped in the yard at Oakworth on the 9th December 1995, having failed on a Santa Special. It made quite a nice glint shot. I wonder whether we'll ever see it in traffic again.
Light trail from my Mercedes and a random kid in a truck driving by. He saw the camera on the tripod, and me racing back the other way and wanted to stop and see what "cool as Hell-looking thing" I was doing.