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Sabrisse is an angel fallen from the sky. This true beauty of the Czech Republic can be a seductive babe ready to show her most perverse side.
A Ghost bike memorial for - Matthew David Zaleski, killed by a drunk driver on July 12, 2022 on 13 mile in Warren, Michigan
Buffalo, NY. February 2017.
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I am fitting my hand made bjd Egg with an outfit and I am nearly finished making her wig, which is made from 2 size 5-6 doll wigs. Looks like I am going to need to order another wig to deconstruct and then reconstruct
St Mary, Combs, Suffolk
Combs is a large parish, and although there is a remote, pretty village that takes its name up in the hills, the bulk of the population of the parish is down in the housing estate of Combs Ford in suburban Stowmarket. Consequently, this church is often busy with baptisms and weddings, and can reckon on a goodly number of the faithful on a Sunday morning.
St Mary is on the edge of the housing estate, but the setting is otherwise profoundly rural: you reach it along a doglegging lane from the top of Poplar Hill, and the last few hundred yards is along a narrow track which ends in the wide graveyard. The church is set on low ground, hills rising away to north and south, and the effect, on looking down at it, is of a great ship at rest in harbour.
With its grand tower, aisles and clerestories this is a perfect example of a 15th Century Suffolk church in all its glory. In the 1930s, Cautley found the main entrance through the south porch, a grand red brick affair of the late 15th century. It has since been bricked up, and entrance is through the smaller north porch, which faces the estate. The gloom of the north porch leads you into a tall, wide open space, full of light, as if the morning had followed you in from outside. If you had been here ten years ago, the first striking sight would have been the three great bells on the floor at the west end. They represented the late medieval and early modern work of three of East Anglia's great bell-founding families, the Brayers of Norwich and the Graye and Darbie families of Ipswich. The largest dates from the mid-15th century, and was cast by Richard Brayser. Its inscription invokes the prayers of St John the Baptist. The other two come from either side of the 17th century Commonwealth; that by Miles Graye would have been a sonorous accompaniement to Laudian piety, while John Darbie's would have rung in the Restoration. It was fascinating to be able to see them at such close quarters, but they have now been rehung in the tower.
Stretching eastwards is the range of 15th century benches with their predominantly animal bench ends, some medieval and some clever Victorian copies, probably by the great Henry Ringham. The effect is similar to that at Woolpit a few miles to the west. The hares are my favourites. One is medieval, the other Ringham's work. They seems alert and wary, as though they might bolt at any moment. Clearly, the medieval artist had seen a hare, but lions were creatures of his imagination.
The great glory of this church, however, is the range of 15th century glass towards the east end of the south aisle. It was collected together in this corner of the church after the factory explosion that wrecked most of Stowmarket and killed 28 people in August 1871. The east window and most easterly south window contain figures from a Tree of Jesse, a family tree of Christ. Old Testament prophets and patriarchs mix with kings, most of them clearly labelled: Abraham and his son Isaac wait patiently near the top, and Solomon and David are also close companions.
This second window also contains two surviving scenes from the Seven Works of Mercy, 'give food to the hungry' and 'give water to the thirsty'. But the most remarkable glass here consists of scenes from the life and martyrdom of St Margaret. We see her receiving God's blessing as she tends her sheep (who graze on, apparently unconcerned). We see her tortured while chained to the castle wall. We see her about to be boiled in oil, and most effectively in a composite scene at once being eaten by a dragon and escaping from it.
Under the vast chancel arch is the surviving dado of the late 14th/early 15th Century roodscreen, a substantial structure carved and studded with ogee arches beneath trefoiled tracery, the carvings in the spandrels gilded. At the other end of the church, the font is imposing in the cleared space of the west end. It is contemporary with the roodscreen, and the suggestion is that we are seeing a building that is not far off being all of a piece: the fixtures and fittings of a new building roughly a century before the Reformation.
A period of history not otherwise much represented here is that of the early Stuarts, but a brass inscription of 1624 reset on a wall had echoes of Shakespeare: Fare well, deare wife, since thou art now absent from mortalls sight. One of those moments when the human experience transcends the religious tussles of those days.
Outside in the graveyard, two other memorials caught my eye. One dates from 1931, and remembers My Beloved Sweetheart Stan... who died in Aden aged 22 years. Not far off, a small headstone of the late 17th Century records that Here Restesth ye body of Mary, ye wife of Tho. Love Coroner with two still born Children. I stood in the quiet of the graveyard, looking across to the suburbs of the busy town of Stowmarket, and I felt the heartbeat, the connection down the long Combs Ford centuries.
Behind me, there was something rather curious. Although this is a big graveyard, the church is set hard against the western edge of it. Because of this, a processional way was built through the base of the tower by the original builders, as at Ipswich St Lawrence and Stanton St John. This would have allowed medieval processions to circumnavigate the church on consecrated ground. The way here has since been blocked in, and is used as storage space. A surviving stoup inside shows that, through this processional way, the west door was the main entrance to the church in medieval times, when this building was the still point of the people's turning world.
A new Eagle showed up at the spit the other day. It appears to be just coming into its fifth year and reaching maturity, as its head and tail are mostly white, but still show traces of the dark juvenile colour. It's probably trying to establish a territory, and attract a mate. It found a tasty bit of fish skin, and returned to its pole for a nice quiet snack. A couple of younger juvenile delinquents showed up though, and chased it off the pole. It evaded them, and landed again, hoping to eat in peace. Continued tomorrow. Have a great weekend, everybody.
i had sudden inspiration... fitting inside a circle would be a full body shot, but i could look off into the distance and not feel so funny looking at the camera...
my daughter and i ran off to the park, where i remembered several tunnels... however, friends, they are not for adults... so i didn't fit!! hah! this brought many laughs... the idea, that i might fit inside here.
this brings to mind metaphors about fitting in... how we try to at certain times in our lives... do we grow out of this? to what extent? (my 12 yo is just beginning to consider this.)
still, it's my favorite of the day. one of the first days we've had here where i had to have a wool hat and coat on to stay warm.
(as a sidenote... i am thinking now about places for full body selfies all the time... the park had plenty more to play around with. and i am still looking for a tunnel i can fit in.)
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If you would like to use this picture in any sort of form, please send me a Flickrmail or send me an email at natehenderson6@gmail.com.
These wood strips were a bitch on wheels. Thin sapele cut to width, then a 45 angle routed where they'd meet lengthwise and another at the end for the corner. And it's not like the newly leather covered case was perfectly in geometric line or anything. So there was a whole lot of adjusting. Glue with a long setting time was crucial, along with a whole lot of creative clamping and wishing and prayin' and cursin'.
Then to color match with the oak drawers.
You really need to View On Black
This marks the 52nd shot of my 52 weeks of self portraits. It was the toughest one to do (although there were some about 3/4 the way through that seemed impossible to do as well). I have to say I'm sick of seeing myself and sick of doing self portraits. I honestly don't know how all the 365 'ers manage to do it. 52 is nothing in comparison. Still, I'm going to take a break from selfies for a while. [insert applause track here] I'm not sure for how long. Just long enough to be motivated. This may occur sooner than later since the pressure to take a weekly shot is off. I say pressure because after you've taken about 15 weekly portraits, you start to run out of original ideas. Not that original ideas won't surface, it's just that they take time to develop. I noticed that even after I had taken this photo, the creativity started seeping back in. Anyway, I chose this tunnel for the final shot. I'd had it in mind for over a month because I felt it symbolized both beginning and end in that you can see the light, yet I also have the choice to turn around and go the opposite way, not towards the end, but to the entry. There's light there too. I think there are certain times when you want to see the light at the end but often, the journey needs to continue. So you either wander around in the tunnel or proceed back to the entry. Me? I'm headed back to the entry. It also seemed fitting since this is New Year's Eve -- another end and beginning. With that, I wish everyone a very happy and safe New Year. Cheers!
[side note: the tunnel was quite busy with people passing by. I waited for quite a bit before I setup my equipment. Once others saw the tripod and camera bag, and that this might be a cool place to photograph, it was like a feeding frenzy -- people started snapping photos all over the tunnel (not of me, but of the tunnel). One guy even set his tripod up about 10 feet behind me. I had to check to make sure there wasn't one of those 'Kodak Picture Spot' signs nearby.]