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Quotation source: Drew Frank, Twitter twitter.com/ugafrank/status/476750574478966784
Image Source (CC): Orin Zebist, Flickr www.flickr.com/photos/orinrobertjohn/2351499538
This is my first attempt at replace color in photo shop and I really need some feedback, the orig. is green. I hope this one doesn;t look really edited.....
Seriously? com on im not that a good photographer but flickr is by far the roughest and toughest audience i've ever had.
i see to many "poo" around there being rated as top work and have been trough some awesome galleries that are too empty for the content and awesome photographers that are on them.
Who's leg do you have to "hump" around here to get that kind of treatment?
Praktica mtl3 + Pentacom 50 f1.8 + expired afga 200
Sorry to go all caps, but I've been working on a fig for GoT Night King, and it is seriously annoying me. Does anyone have any advice for the face?
At the end of this session of ESA's Pangaea 2021 course it is time to get together and listen to all the feedback useful to improve course activities.
Credits: ESA–A.Romeo
Hi, I am an amateur photographer who likes to explore the world from behind the lens of the camera.
The pics. you see reflect my passion and interest in photography.
Hope you like it, and encourage me by following me, adding my pics. to your favorites, and even by giving your valuable suggestion/feedback.
After a large Pick a Brick order, I assembled enough bricks to build the diorama pictured above. However, I would like to make it twice the size (four 48x48 baseplates) with pieces acquired through bricklink recently. When I made the Pick a Brick order, I miscalculated how many pieces were necessary by a longshot, so I now only have two baseplates of land with an ugly dirt patch. I need to know ASAP if i should make the four by four without the dirt patch, as I have come to like how it adds variation to the land. Obviously, the area that the dirt covers will be reduced if I keep it. Please leave feedback on what you think I should do about the dirt, I'm glad to hear any opinions on it. More (and better) photos to come of the finished product.
The third generation Ford Focus (also known as MK III) debuted at the 2010 North American International Auto Show as a 2012 model. The cars shown were a 4-door sedan and 5-door hatchback, also debuting a new 2.0L direct injection I4 engine. A 5-door estate (wagon) was previewed at the Geneva auto show a month later.
This generation of Focus would be the first Ford vehicle designed under the tenure of CEO Alan Mulally and his "One Ford" plan, which aimed to leverage Ford's global resources into creating more competitive vehicles that could be sold globally in each segment with minimal changes.
The "One Ford" plan would reunite the North American and global Focus line. The previous North American version was thus discontinued, and the new model was launched simultaneously in North America and Europe on May 2, 2011, both having started production near the end of 2010. Production in Asia, Africa, and South America followed later.
Ford debuted the all-electric Ford Focus Electric at the Consumer Electronics Show in 2011 to compete with the Nissan Leaf and the Chevrolet Volt and announced the hot hatch ST model at the Paris Motor Show in September 2010.
The Ford Focus was the best-selling car in the world for 2012
Focus RS
Following the merger of Ford's North American Special Vehicle Team (SVT), the European TeamRS and the Australian FPV divisions to the development of Ford's global performance vehicles, Ford's Advanced Product Creation and Performance Vehicles director Hermann Salenbauch announced that the decision to sell Ford Focus RS/SVT to North America depends on feedback from the media and customers. However, the product would only appear 2 years after the release of the third generation Focus models. On August 4, 2011 Ford's global boss for small cars, Gunnar Herrmann, revealed to magazine Drive that the third iteration of the hot-hatch was in the works. The new RS was expected to arrive towards the end of 2015 in Europe and the rest of the world; in North America it will arrive after 2015 . On January 21, 2015, Ford released a teaser video previewing the 2015 Ford Focus RS and announced a February 3, 2015 web-streaming reveal event from Cologne, Germany. At the 2015 Geneva Motor Show the production ready MKIII Ford Focus RS was unveiled packing the turbocharged 2.3 L I4 engine found in the Mustang EcoBoost with over 320 HP. In the Focus RS, the engine itself produces 345 HP. The car is equipped with Ford's all-new Torque-Vectoring All-Wheel-Drive system, as well as upgraded suspension and brakes. The RS will boast a model specific aerodynamic package that helps to differentiate it from other Focus models. The RS is capable of sprinting to 100 km/h (62 mph) in 4.7 seconds, as well as completing the standing quartermile in 13.46 seconds at 103.65 mph (166.81 km/h).
[Text from Wikipedia]
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ford_Focus_(third_generation)
This Lego miniland scale Ford Focus RS (C346 - 2016) has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 96th Build Challenge - The 8th Birthday, titled - 'Happy Crazy Eight Birthday, LUGNuts' - where all previous build challenges are available to build to. This model is built to the LUGNuts 21st build challenge, - "Millennium Marvels" featuring vehicles built post year 2000.
This is a collaborative art collection where writers use my portraits to explore individual characters. As a long term project, I am hoping to publish a book containing the photographs and accompanying stories. Art, in both forms, has wonderfully varied interpretations and these are (hopefully) paired examples of how artists can work together to form more complex pieces.
As with my photographs, all stories published here are copyrighted.
Hope you enjoy and, as always, email me if you have questions, feedback, or wish to contribute.
Below is the first combined effort.
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Photography by, Cassandra M. Kammerer
Short story written by, S.J.L.
You will never learn my real name. Some of your predecessors have asked, one even pleaded, but boundaries exist and I am quite particular. You lost all freedom when you told me your name Douglas, even if the loss was not immediately perceptible, and only by extension of my own gracious nature are you able to make these self-indulgent inquiries now. Your struggling questions are amusing, but as fruitless as the group counseling sessions to overcome your substance addiction. My confidence in your ability to fail is complete, but I offer one last recommendation: accept the vast weakness within yourself before I finish my latte and our time is up. Already shaking with confusion? Lamentable, but thankfully this is not really about you.
Hollow. That is the description I first wrote on my notepad about you. I see your skepticism, but here is where I circled it. Right at the top, what does it read? Page One. It took less than one minute to fully diagnose you and I have, on several occasions, encapsulated you to my colleagues as such: hollow. We are professionals and the sharing of such information was done under strict ethical code, of course. They had similar men as patients, celebrities like yourself, and needed comparative data. It is what we do, you see, we aggregate data from the weak to bolster our understanding of how not to be. Then we publish articles and books, creating our canon of behavioral norms and expectations. I choose the word canon carefully, Douglas. Your mother, who was also a patient of mine before she took her own life, was deeply fixated on a canon of her own, the Catholic worldview of her youth: heaven and hell – or, perhaps more simplified, good and evil. It was the great pendulum swinging through the landscape of her mind. Have you ever glimpsed away from yourself to ponder what it might take for a Catholic to commit suicide? How fractured she needed to be?
Are you actually displaying emotions for her suddenly? Where were you when she took the hatchet to her arm? Incidentally, I have always respected her choice in tools. If the magazines are to be believed, you were in Monaco, halfway through a month-long binge. You denied the veracity of those photographs, even to me; but, looking at you now, I think you are ready to admit you left the country knowing she was crumbling before your eyes. You were too weak even to try.
As I was saying, my colleagues and I do not see the evil or good of men. We identify weakness and prescribe strength. People like your mother, taught to worship a collapsed god, cannot be helped because their foundation is based on the archaic treatises of goatherds. Centuries of reinterpretation cannot change the simple fact her savior committed suicide, paving the way for her own. Taught to emulate weakness, and unable to locate conviction, she crawls to me, expecting her terrors and self-hate to disappear – which is not how therapy works, as you now fully appreciate.
How long did you wait after learning of her death before seeking my guidance? Three weeks? I remember you wore a disguise when you came through my office door. Yes, of course it was a disguise. Even in your deepest alcoholic engorgement, you never allowed yourself to be unshaven, let alone wear an Orioles ball cap. Please don’t insult my intelligence by claiming it was grief. Your girlfriend, who you may not realize has been on my weekly itinerary for over a year, told me what you said enroute to the funeral. Do you remember? No? You said, “Mom was a deranged lunatic. I am leaving this sideshow early because La Traviata opens tonight.” And you did.
Why am I saying these things? This is our last session, Douglas, and soon you will have found the cure to your hate-filled anxieties and the logical conclusion to your addiction. No, this is not tough love, for at least two reasons: first, a doctor cannot love her patient and remain objective; second, as previously stated, you are merely the thin shell of a human being and unworthy of anyone’s love. Hollow, remember? I am not passing judgment; I am treating you for an illness, one you have carried since you were eight years old. We have discussed the incident several times, so it should come as no shock the genesis was with the wagon, your friend Christine, and those two boys. She begged for your help when they were chasing her, but the boys threatened to take your wagon. She had even kissed you at the roller rink three weeks prior and you had exchanged valentine’s cards. For such a young age, the two of you had shared much. But you did not get out of your wagon for Christine, and those two boys brutalized her. Her parents moved to Florida shortly thereafter and you never saw her after that day. Your mother told me once she prayed desperately for that girl to pull through her surgeries, but what help did you offer?
You understood the ramifications of sticks and stones, right? Did their yells of victory or her screams of pain hurt you? Did you cry for her or only for yourself? You did not become feeble that day, for all children are; rather, it was the day you learned about the connection between cowardice and survival. Your addiction is the outward manifestation of the fear and weakness permeating your mind – it is the gaseous cloud filling the empty space normal people lack.
No, I don’t mind if you have a drink. I anticipated you might and had my secretary ensure the mini-bar was properly stocked. We are celebrating, after all – me with my latte and you with your bourbon. There is no need to bark obscenities, Douglas. You cannot visit a surgeon and become agitated when her delicate scalpel technique causes tissue to swell. The pain is natural and expected and the disease you have coruscating through your system has had twenty-nine years to fester.
Yes, I am a surgeon. I carve apart the minds and experiences of my patients and remove desiccation when I am allowed. Therapy is artfully complex in this way – regulatory and behavioral obstacles at every turn. Your girlfriend, Evelyn, understands this, but your mother did not. She needed me to cut her, wept for me to do so, but never once gave me permission. You are miserably similar to her in this way, refusing to sign the necessary paperwork. I am, in a sense, your five hundred dollar an hour barfly; or was, since our relationship is now over.
Time, nipping at your ankles, has caught hold finally. You have run dry on individuals to blame and the fiasco of your life will be reprinted for the slathering masses to devour. I know it can be heartbreaking to learn the thoughts you labeled as hope in your mind are false; however, you simply must appreciate those thoughts were never true. You would never consent to hope, not Douglas Clarion. Yes, you may have another drink; in fact, consider all three of those bottles a gift.
Now why would you ask me such a question? Vain until your last breath, Douglas. I grasp why women adore you, but it would be inappropriate for me to officially comment on your attractiveness. No, you may not kiss me, but it was sweet of you to ask. It lets me know you recognize I am in control. Control is the bedrock of civilized life, be it social or technological. Let’s examine your own civility: even now, knowing you will die soon if you continue, you are unable to prevent your own hand from raising that glass to your mouth; your life is chronicled for you by a professional mob armed with telescoping lenses and legally sanctioned deceit; food, clothing, and transportation is handled by servants, much like a toddler; and Evelyn counts herself fortunate if you can manage an erection more than once a month. Has there ever been anything more pathetic than a sagging philanderer?
No need to scowl, Douglas – it makes you seem ill-tempered and foul. I am explaining something critical, if you would pay attention. For all your wealth and luxury, you are remarkably uncivilized. By extension, I cannot in good conscience grant you the rights and privileges I do normal human beings. It is one of the fundamental reasons you are no longer my patient – I am not a veterinarian, after all.
There are tissues on the end-table if you wish to dry up your face, but it is time to stand up from the couch. No, I do not find you contemptible because you are crying. Everyone cries, Douglas, even me. No, I will never cry over you because you are a disgrace, filled with purposeless and unguided shame.
Which brings our session to its inevitable close. My latte is finished and you have managed, amazingly, to consume the entire bottle of bourbon. Be sure to try my other gifts after you arrive home tonight. I pronounce you cured. Yes, just like that. Please, Douglas, do not ruin the moment with more obscenities. I want to remember you exactly as you are right now. My secretary will collect the final payment on your way out.
* * * *
Good Morning, Jenny. Who is my nine o’clock? Mrs. Garnier? Are her files on my desk already? Very well. No, I was running late today and did not read the newspaper, what happened? Mr. Clarion was found dead in his penthouse? Was it an overdose? My my, the paparazzi will have a field day with this tragic story. Call Evelyn Wilson and schedule her tomorrow morning and cancel Garnier and my other morning appointments. I am feeling exultant today, Jenny, and will be at Linney’s having a spa facial – care to join me? My treat… Excellent. I have wanted to pick your brain for ages and this is the perfect opportunity.
Thanks to everyone for visits , comments , awards and invitations, I appreciate your feedback very much
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Candidate for 52 Weeks for Dogs. Feedback welcome.
More of my Dog Street Photography, and my Happiness Ambassadors series. I walked to a park with my dogs, and took pictures of people who wanted to pet them and were okay with my taking their pictures. They bring such happiness to me and to others, and then they get so happy themselves.
This is Lisette in the dog park, all happy after playing and happy to pose with a person. I don't know her; she just wanted to hug my Lisette and was into photography herself. Hard to photograph because this was after work, and very low light, just before sunset. I had to up the ISO because of the low light, and hence, it's grainy. Still, I thought it was worth keeping because I just love how their two faces almost become one in their expression of joy and happiness.
Lisette (1o yrs. old) used to hate the dog park. Ever since she was a puppy, she hated to go in, felt over-whelmed by the other dogs, but was okay with the people. So I stopped taking her into the dog park. But now that Jake (1.5 yrs. old) loves the dog park, Lisette also goes in and loves to run around with Jake in the dog park, and even sometimes to play with other dogs. I notice that most of the puppies find each other, and the older dogs don't play as much with the puppies. But Lisette loves to join with Jake's play and it's been so good for her. She is so happy.
Taken 3/15/10, Uploaded 3/18/10, #2198
If you wish, view "my own favorites" of my photostream, or view all of my Photostream, sorted by Interestingness: fiveprime.org/flickr_hvmnd.cgi?search_domain=User&tex...
Strobist Info: ABR800 into 30' moon unit, aimed right at their faces.
Been sittin' on these for a while - but I figured I'd make 'em public to get your comments, feedback, and suggestions - so let 'em rip!
This image was made without any use of photo-editing software. Simply set up your model in LDD and render it. Then render it again, using the PNG file from your first render as the decoration for the computer screen. Do this a couple of times more and then do a final render to add the camera. Thank goodness for a faster laptop, as this would have taken me forever 12 months ago.
Feedback desired - This is my first digitalization from a negativ. I am Thankful for every serious comment about this picture. How does it works? is it "naturally"? Thanks for your comment!! (The Camera is a minolta xd7 not a fuji)
This diagram of a feedback loop appeared on the common room chalkboard the day after a group discussion about communication styles. Thanks, Garrison!
I'm using this as a feedback page. Please comment if we've done a deal. Obviously, I won't delete any comments.