View allAll Photos Tagged generosity
These gorgeous handmade ornaments were given me by a generous, grand and artistic friend! Though there are 4 photos, two of them are a view of the same ornament. These three glorious creations are on the Christmas tree at Riversong, our Alabama home on the Elk River. The other three are on the Christmas tree at Lagniappe, our home in New Orleans! I couldn't not bear to leave all in New Orleans, and I expect the other three will be coming back here to reside on the big tree for the rest of the holidays! But OH! How we are enjoying them on each tree! Such sparkle to catch the eye, and remind us of those we love!
46/365 Photo Manipulations Project
Many thanks to the following for their generosity:
background - HKD
www.flickr.com/photos/h-k-d/5212285240/
Foreground:
Jim Trodel - www.flickr.com/photos/trodel/3598490021/in/faves-30797387...
Sax player - gadl
www.flickr.com/photos/gadl/108324116/in/faves-30797387@N04/
Texture - Caro's Lines www.flickr.com/photos/caroslines/2333470622/in/set-721576...
Piano keys photoshop brush courtesy of www.obsidiandawn.com
Created in Photoshop Elements 7
Fotografía tomada en la precordillera de Santiago de Chile, en el Parque Aguas de Ramón, comuna de La Reina, el día 5 de noviembre de 2019 con cámara Sony Cybershot
Photograph taken in the precordillera of Santiago de Chile, in the Aguas de Ramón Park, commune of La Reina, on November 5, 2019 with Sony Cybershot camera
The sun is a generous lord | It shares its light |
With all things Great or Small.
Straight out of the Camera. A camera is a receptacle of light. A photographer is a gatherer of light. A camera can capture infinite attributes and hues of light. Attributes and hues which can be manipulated but (perhaps) never enhanced by post processing on a computer. Personally I believe that a mild tweaking of exposure or white balance may be necessary at times but extensive processing sucks out the meditative and emotionally charged component of an image leaving behind something which is unreal and lifeless. To PP or not to PP? An existential dilemma which every photographer has to solve for him-her-self.
A very generous friend gave my husband and myself a gift voucher for Tetsuya's for Christmas. I made a booking for us for our wedding anniversary that was on the 18th, but last night, the 20th being the closest to date I could get. A lovely evening; great atmosphere, very attentive staff and a wonderful 10 course degustation. I've only posted a few of the dishes.
People are generous during the holidays, but we eat all year. These bags and baskets of food, goodies, and hand knit or crocheted hats and scarves were put together with love for elders in a rural area of SC for Valentine’s Day. Our elders have much to be proud of. They worked their entire lives, raised their children, cared for their grandchildren, paid their taxes, and helped build their communities. They often worked one or more jobs that are vital to society, but paid poorly. The minimum wage in my state is still $7.25 an hour. It was $1.25 when today’s elders started working. It’s not enough to build a retirement account. When their bodies can no longer work, they retire on less than $900 a month, many with just a few hundred dollars a month. Older adults are the fastest growing population of homeless people. Our elders matter and are a valuable part of our society. This Valentine’s Day share a piece of your heart with an elder in your life or community. If we’re lucky, we’ll live long enough to proudly be elders!
When the sky is generous, we can't remain indifferent... A beautiful serie of sunsets and sunrises for these last days, as to augur us the beautiful autumn lights!
Yesterday a sunrise and today a sunset! Enjoy!
Today's soundtrack: Behind the Moon, Matt Costa.
Please view it large on Black
Les Sables d'Olonne (France)
Crimea. Village Mezhvodnoe.
A person, who values the beauty of nature and ambient the world is far richer and happier than those, who did not notices this.
Thank you to everyone who stopped to watch, leave a comment, award, an invitation to the group! :)
Thanks to those who gave just smile and admiration and those who remained dissatisfied! :)
San Luis Obispo County, California, USA.
Photos taken of this species in this series were generously made possible by Dave Lawrence at his backyard feeder array.
The use of any of my photos, of any file size, for any purpose, is subject to approval by me. Contact me for permission. Image files are available upon request. My email address can be found at my Flickr profile page. Or send me a FlickrMail
POSEDUMP
"Home Body" Animations + Posepack
Mainstore link
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Captivated/156/104/1578
Marketplace link
marketplace.secondlife.com/p/POSEDUMP-Home-Body-Animation...
Be the first to kick start your generous support and fund my production with more amazing images!
Currently, I'm running a crowd funding activity to initiate my personal 2016 Flickr's Project. Here, I sincerely request each and every kind hearted souls to pay some effort and attention.
No limitation, Any Amount and your encouraging comments are welcome.
Crowd funding contribution can be simply direct to my PayPal account if you really appreciate and wish my forthcoming photography project to come alive.
Please PayPal your wish amount to : men4r@yahoo.com
Email me or public comments below your contribution amount for good records with your comments and at final day, at random, I shall sent out my well taken care canon 6D with full box n accessory during random draw to one thankful contributor as my token of appreciation.
Now, I cordially invite and look forward with eagerness a strong pool of unity zealous participants in this fundermental ideology yet sustainable crowd fund raising task.
Basically, the substantial gather amount is achievable with pure passion n love heart in photography and not necessary be filty rich nor famous to help me accomplish raising my long yearning photography career, a sucking heavy expense that been schedules down my photography making journey had inevitably, some circumstances had badly fall short behind racing with time and inability to fulfill as quickly in near future consolidating good fund .
Honestly, with aspiration and hope, I appeal to urge on this media for a strong humanity mandate through good faith of sharing and giving generously on this particular crowd funding excercise to achieve my desire n is not just purely a dread dream , is also flickers first starter own crowds funding strength turning impossible into reality through this pratical raising method that I confidently trust it will turn fruitful from all your small effort participation, every single persistency will result consolidating piling up every little tiny bricks into an ultimate huge strong living castle.
In reality, I have trust and never look down on every single peny efforts that been contributed as helpful means, turning unrealistic dream alive is the goal in crowd funding excercise, No reason any single amount is regard to be too small when the strength of all individual wish gather to fulfill my little desire to make exist and keep alive. .
I sincerely look forward each and every participants who think alike crowds funding methodlogy works here no matter who come forwards with regardless any capital amount input be big or small , please help gather and pool raise my objective target amount as close to USD$10K or either acquisition from donation item list below:
1- ideally a high mega pixel Canon 5DS ( can be either new or use ok)
2- Canon 70-200mm F2.8 L IS lens ( can be either new or use ok)
Last but not least, a photography journey of life time for a trip to explore South Island of New Zealand and Africa.
.
My intended schedule may estimate about 1 month round trip self drive traveling down scenic Southern Island of New Zealand for completing the most captivating landscape photography and wander into the big five, the wilderness of untamed Africa nature for my project 2016 before my physical body stamina eventually drain off.
During the course, I also welcome sponsor's to provide daily lodging/accommodation, car rental/transportation, Fox Glacier helicopter ride and other logistic funding expenses, provide photographic camera equipments or related accessories .
Kindly forward all sponsors request terms of condition n collaboration details for discussion soon.
Great Ocean Drive- the 12 Apostle's
Please Click Auto Slide show for ultimate viewing pleasure in Super Large Display .to enjoy my photostream . ..
Due to copyright issue, I cannot afford to offer any free image request. Pls kindly consult my sole permission to purchase n use any of my images.You can email me at : men4r@yahoo.com.
Don't use this image on Websites/Blog or any other media
without my explicit permission.
For Business, You can find me here at linkedin..
Follow me on www.facebook.com here
(...)
Queria inventar-te um sítio sem palavras
em que só sobre o corpo a luz derrama
sua generosa claridade.
(...)
(Bernardo Pinto de Almeida)
-------------------------
(rough translation)
I wanted to invent for you a wordless place
where only on the body the light spills
its generous clarity.
(Bernardo Pinto de Almeida)
The kind & generous Ron from hdrsoft have invited me to become a partner & affiliate of their software - Photomatix Pro. I guess with a photostream as awesome as mine, its hard not to be impressed by anyone lol! :P Seriously i'm only jokin'!! Really a big thanks for the offer Ron! :))
Let's go straight to the point. I have a Photomatix code for you hdr fanatics out there ! If you have been thinking of buying yourself a copy of Photomatix Pro all along...this might just be the right time to do so! :P (haha! Just kiddin' I'm no salesman here.. guess I watch too many TV commercials :P) I know most of my flickrs friends here are already using photomatix.. that is just too bad too sad :P This is especially for those hdr lovers out there who have been (quietly) following my photostream & wish to kick off this new found interest ;)
Here's the important part!
====================
Now you can get a fifteen percent off any photomatix software (both Windows & Mac) just by entering -> “A R T I E N G 1 5” (no spacing between letters :)) in the coupon code box of the Photomatix purchase website. With that money u can save, you can also treat yourself to another awesome dinner & tell yourself how good life is! haha! Btw this code is valid from 06 August 2009 to 06 August 2013 so lots of time to think about it :)
Of coz..before you decide to part with your hard-earned cash (like i always do :P), you should always download a free trial version of Photomatix from w w w . h d r s o f t . c o m to play around & see if you like it. Beware tho.. it can be addictive! :P
Last but not least, TGIF!!!!! Its party time! Hope everyone has a wonderful end to the week & a lovely weekend!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
About
The Victor Harbor Causeway, South Australia
Music
Jim Brickman & Martina Mcbride - The Gift
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bagan
Meditation Stage
Introduction of Two Light Set Up Low Key Photography Workshop at Bagan.
Be the first to kick start your generous support and fund my production with more amazing images!
Currently, I'm running a crowd funding activity to initiate my personal 2016 Flickr's Project. Here, I sincerely request each and every kind hearted souls to pay some effort and attention.
No limitation, Any Amount and your encouraging comments are welcome.
Crowd funding contribution can be simply direct to my PayPal account if you really appreciate and wish my forthcoming photography project to come alive.
Please PayPal your wish amount to : men4r@yahoo.com
Email me or public comments below your contribution amount for good records with your comments and at final day, at random, I shall sent out my well taken care canon 6D with full box n accessory during random draw to one thankful contributor as my token of appreciation.
Now, I cordially invite and look forward with eagerness a strong pool of unity zealous participants in this fundermental ideology yet sustainable crowd fund raising task.
Basically, the substantial gather amount is achievable with pure passion n love heart in photography and not necessary be filty rich nor famous to help me accomplish raising my long yearning photography career, a sucking heavy expense that been schedules down my photography making journey had inevitably, some circumstances had badly fall short behind racing with time and inability to fulfill as quickly in near future consolidating good fund .
Honestly, with aspiration and hope, I appeal to urge on this media for a strong humanity mandate through good faith of sharing and giving generously on this particular crowd funding excercise to achieve my desire n is not just purely a dread dream , is also flickers first starter own crowds funding strength turning impossible into reality through this pratical raising method that I confidently trust it will turn fruitful from all your small effort participation, every single persistency will result consolidating piling up every little tiny bricks into an ultimate huge strong living castle.
In reality, I have trust and never look down on every single peny efforts that been contributed as helpful means, turning unrealistic dream alive is the goal in crowd funding excercise, No reason any single amount is regard to be too small when the strength of all individual wish gather to fulfill my little desire to make exist and keep alive. .
I sincerely look forward each and every participants who think alike crowds funding methodlogy works here no matter who come forwards with regardless any capital amount input be big or small , please help gather and pool raise my objective target amount as close to USD$10K or either acquisition from donation item list below:
1- ideally a high mega pixel Canon 5DS ( can be either new or use ok)
2- Canon 70-200mm F2.8 L IS lens ( can be either new or use ok)
Last but not least, a photography journey of life time for a trip to explore South Island of New Zealand and Africa.
.
My intended schedule may estimate about 1 month round trip self drive traveling down scenic Southern Island of New Zealand for completing the most captivating landscape photography and wander into the big five, the wilderness of untamed Africa nature for my project 2016 before my physical body stamina eventually drain off.
During the course, I also welcome sponsor's to provide daily lodging/accommodation, car rental/transportation, Fox Glacier helicopter ride and other logistic funding expenses, provide photographic camera equipments or related accessories .
Kindly forward all sponsors request terms of condition n collaboration details for discussion soon.
Great Ocean Drive- the 12 Apostle's
Please Click Auto Slide show for ultimate viewing pleasure in Super Large Display .to enjoy my photostream . ..
Due to copyright issue, I cannot afford to offer any free image request. Pls kindly consult my sole permission to purchase n use any of my images.You can email me at : men4r@yahoo.com.
Don't use this image on Websites/Blog or any other media
without my explicit permission.
For Business, You can find me here at linkedin..
Follow me on www.facebook.com here
MOL Generosity (IMO: 953216) is a container ship registered and sailing under the flag of Liberia. Her gross tonnage is 59,176. She was built in 2012 by Hyundai Samho Heavy Industries, Samho. Her overall length (loa) is 275.07 m, and her beam is 40.04 m. Her container capacity is 5,605 teu. She is operated by Peter Doehle Schiffahrts-KG of Hamburg.
I photographed the MOL Generosity on her approach to berth at Fremantle Port on 12 September 2016.
A spate of generosity from the Originality Symbols collection
photo coode : g1.08
Limited editions 12 ( #1 is sold )
price: 2200 dhs
size 60*40cm
for order : g1uae@hotmail.com
MOL Generosity (IMO: 953216) is a container ship registered and sailing under the flag of Liberia. Her gross tonnage is 59,176. She was built in 2012 by Hyundai Samho Heavy Industries, Samho. Her overall length (loa) is 275.07 m, and her beam is 40.04 m. Her container capacity is 5,605 teu. She is operated by Peter Doehle Schiffahrts-KG of Hamburg.
I photographed the MOL Generosity on her approach to berth at Fremantle Port on 12 September 2016.
The winds blew hard and the promise of a sunset drew as many to the beach that night as one expects to see on a balmy summer night. The long reach of telephoto lenses were spotted on many cameras, including mine, until the sky suddenly turned into a this magical display of nature's beauty. I put on a wide angle lens and headed for the edge of Lake Michigan. My heart filled with joy as I saw how well the camera captured the generous scene before my eyes. Frankfort Michigan.
Crowds funding campaign !!
Please show support for my coming crowd funding raising activity with our beloved Flickr community . This project is to gather a minimum total sum of US$5000. I hope many of my existing contacts and new viewers can also come forward to participate raising such a meaningful charity target amount as I completely trust gathering all human unity power for relieving charitable deeds in remote Myanmar region to cater all inspiring hope to the helpless and needy kids for rooting their early basic child education path .
Any generouse fund from you can be direct to my PayPal : men4r@yahoo.com and kindly state child relieve help.
Thanks!
It really amazes me the generosity of some people. In addition, this whole concept that people on flickr and elsewhere are just ‘internet people’ and not real people.
Sunday I was asked to come down to Orange County to photograph yoga instructor, mentor and blogger Geri once again. Last time the concept was beauty, so we shot her at the Long Beach marina in daylight. This time, she wanted a more rugged, urban look. Beautiful yoga in an urban setting.
I asked Steve Moore and Hector Cruz if they wanted to come along, shoot along, etc. There wasn’t much money involved, but I thought it might be fun.
Not only did they both want to come along (and drive miles to get there) but they allowed me to use their Alien Bees, Cyber Syncs, ring flash, octabox and their entire studio. Plus, they helped with all the lighting, etc. I’m just blown away.
Now the funny thing is that their new studio Moore & Cruz just opened and they are doing some amazing work. Both come from different backgrounds, so when they combine for a portrait shoot, wedding, or just something fun, you better believe they have the equipment, skills and personality to make it happen. Does it sound like I’m giving an endorsement? You betcha. If you’re in the OC or LA area, be sure to look them up.
Thanks again guys!
This was shot at ISO 2500. Almost SOOC. There was an AlienBee 1600 on the left and right, both just using their modeling lamp, in some dark alley in Santa Ana.
"Generosity is a matter of heart and not finances" And I would say this is one very generous sunset! Personally that's how I feel when I am standing there in awe over these breathtaking moments...whether it is a sunrise or sunset they all leave me stunned. This moment was no exception! May we all live generously today ; ) ....and if I will just look up every day and look around, there is always a "reminder" to be generous...It truly is "more blessed to give than receive" : )
Thank you all for your generosity in sharing all your amazing captures! It's mesmerizing...I just want to drink them all in! I have seen some amazing shots already in 2011 and the best is yet to come! Whew Whoooo! ; )
Enjoy every moment, they all count! Have a great day! We have so much to be thankful for!
For all my flickr friends - this is my thank you!
Thank you for all your generosity, comments, faves, and notes.
My ridulously generous chrismas present from Kurai~.
thanks so much~<3
I could finally afford the best merao I know
and the merjewlery i wanted for so long
and the black meroutfit Ive got in white allready(THANKS Azaiya THANKS for making it~<3).
~^.^~Shuri will probably never walk again, only swim~^.^~.
Aaaand
I'm firmly stuck in the upcoming Na'vi-hype after I watched the trailer earlier this year actually, but I watched the AvatarMovie the day before yesterday and finally made a Na'vishurishape, like I had intended since I saw the trailer because I like the more animalistic look to it~
I love her face~(which is the only thing I changed anyway;Nose+forehead, and lips a little :D)
viva Na'vi~
This belonged to my very good friend, Minseon Lee, who so generously gave me my first Korean showing just a couple of months after I arrived. A dozen of my best photos were arrayed upon the walls of her coffeehouse for six months. Her lovely place and delicious brew was a magnet for so many people involved in photography and the graphic arts there in Chungmuro.
Those days are gone but certainly not forgotten and are cherished memories for me as it provided me with a social life that was most enriching and an enduring friendship with a very artistic soul.
Minseon is still in business just around the corner and about 30 meters up on the left on that little street to the right of the former Coffee Bubble. The new place is called "Chungmuro 29" coffee roasting house. She roasts it herself and it is truly the best coffee in town!
And...unlike so many other places in Seoul her coffee is only 1,500 Won!! No kidding! It beats the pants off Starbucks' ridiculous 7,500 price and is so good it is in a different universe--one we can all afford!
So, to everyone, but especially to my fellow photographers and other graphic artists in Seoul who still do have reason to go to Chungmuro (they haven't said the last rites yet!) I highly recommend Chungmuro 29.
Nikon F4 with AF Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.5-5.6 on Portra 400.
“Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.”
John Wesley quotes
its titled by عزه
All The Comments and FAVs are most appreciated!
The 'smugglers' who shared the cabin with me on the Trans Siberian always placed a generous cash gratuity into our passports as we were to be searched. Andre 'the elder' would assert his authority as the head smuggler and collect all four of the passports... including mine... and he would give them to the officials with a mischevous smile and a nod that said 'this is my gift to you.' This is my business. This is what I do.
Andre always put the American passport on the bottom... I think he thought it would draw less attention there...and then he always shushed me with a stern and piercing look as he prepared for these most critical transactions. The first thing the official would do is put the American passport on top. I began to realize that although we shared that cabin and the comraderie of the rails... or confinement thereof... that Andre 'the elder' didn't really think that having an American in his cabin was all that much good for business. It seemed to bring a little 'extra special' attention and scrutiny to his little clandestine smuggling operation. Maybe he had to bump up the bribes a notch or two to insure the safe passage of his valuable contraband. Either way you could just tell by watching him that Andre was a bottom line kind of guy.
By the end of the journey though Andre had invited me to live with him and his family in Poland... to work at his store... and to marry his daughter who he assured me had the bluest of eyes and breasts that were the national pride of Poland. Although I never saw him again I came to love Andre as a father in law even though I never met his daughter... somehow I feel like I know her.
It's no joke either about Polish womens breasts being an object of national pride. Somehow Andre 'the elder' seemed capable of working it into any conversation relating to his motherland... to which Andre 'the younger' and their female companion would invariably agree with.
This usually led to a toast... a clanking of the glasses... the tipping of a bottle and a slurred chorus of 'nasdorovia's.'
Whenever the merits of Polish breasts were agreed on, indeed that meant it was time to drink some more vodka. Even to this day... when I think of Andre or Polish womens breasts... it makes me want to knock back a shot of vodka... but I don't drink anymore and really I am more of an ass man... but still. I never had the heart to tell Andre that... I mean, talking about Polish womens breasts really seemed to make him so happy. I didn't want to take that way from him. You've just never seen a guy so filled with joy as Andre was whenever his favorite subject was being discussed or debated... it really lit him up from the inside.
Anytime you want to make a Polish national feel good... or homesick... just bring up the fact that Polish women have the best breasts. It's been good for a lot of free drinks for me.
I had just left Asia... everyday I travelled closer to Europe. With the passage of time and distance Andre's observations were indeed verified though... the closer I got to Poland... the larger breasts became. I'm not kidding. Andre was right.
The first Russian I met... the man smiling in the photograph... was like most Russians it seemed...named Sergei. A few were named Alexander or Andre. I think Russians have only three names... except for politicians or people of fame. I might have met a couple of Victors and a handful of Igor's as well. Somebody once said they'd heard of a Russian named Nikolai too. Still... most men in Russia are named Sergei. That's just the way it is there.
Seconds after I took this photograph Sergei slipped into his pocket without flinch or hesitation the currency that Andre had stashed in his passport. I knew it was coming and I was watching closely for it. I barely caught it. And I grew up in Chicago.
Living on that train with those smugglers was like taking an advanced college course in the subtleties and techniques of graft. It was Andre 'the elder' who taught me that you need to keep variable amounts of currency in each of your four pockets... like five in one, ten in the next, then twenty and a hundred...and that you must properly size up the person you are attempting to bribe and choose from one of your pockets the minumum amount you are betting it will take to pacify that official.
That's helped me more than once in life since then.
Andre also showed me that it was really important to telegraph the bribe... to look the mark right in the eyes and demonstrate that one... you were about to bribe him and two... that you were going to reach into your pocket and take out all of the money you had available to you for this transaction. It was really deep psychology according to Andre. The man had an ethic and he was a perfectionist. It's always remarkable to watch such a master at work.
Andre pointed out that it was good form to allow your pocket to turn slightly inside out so that the mark could see that indeed you really emptied it. This he noted made them feel really special. Like you went all the way for them. He also taught me that a bribe is never to be peeled off of a larger wad of bills or taken from a wallet... unless you had done business with the mark before but in his opinion it was still a bad idea.
Andre's bribes never failed or produced even the slightest trace of hesitation. The man was truly a master. Andre 'the elder' was the maestro of bribery. And he taught me well. Halfway through the journey he announced that he was getting sick of the train and that he and his cohorts were getting off at Irkusk and flying on to Moscow.
He gave to me a case of vodka and an envelope with additional bribes in it and told me that he would meet me in Moscow with the 'goods' next week.
I was proud and honored that Andre 'the elder' trusted me with the 'stuff.'
I was officially a smuggler now.
When I went through Japanese customs they even pulled me right out of line... took me to this little office where I presumed I was going to learn what a rough rectal exam was like. They never even looked in my bags though... they just wanted to know if I slept with any prostitutes in Bangkok... it was a real interrogation too... they didn't believe me when I said I hadn't... they even tried to say I must be gay then. the fact that I didn't seem to take much offense at their calling me gay really seemed to disturb them because thry had a little conference among themselves... in Japanese... so I had no way of knowing what they were saying.
I told them that i did get a killer massage at the James Bond Turkish Bath and Massage House... but there was no happy ending if you know what I mean. I only went in because of the James Bond motiff. I'm a sucker for that stuff... like the cosmonaut cigarettes on the train in Russia.
Still they didn't believe me but they let me go with a warning... a reminder to call them if I wanted to change my story and they gave me this pamphlet that described all of the symptoms one might have after a hedonistic weekend in the city of angels... Bankok. Reading the brochure it made me really glad I just stuck with the massage. The pictures, even though they were in black and white, they were especially disturbing.
Bangkok... really the only reason I went there is because I loved that song by Murray McMurray... you know the one... 'one night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble.' I wanted to see what the inspiration for that song was... and I thought I could use some humbling. Murray was correctamundo... I was indeed humbled.
I dealt with smugglers before in Japan... Nigerians... but dealing with the Nigerians always made me feel dirty. And that was before they became famous on the internet.
Those Nigerians... they are a resourceful bunch though. And the colorful clothing... you haven't partied until you've partied with a Nigerian man wearing a yellow daishiki with a matching hat. I couldda stared at those intricate psychadellic patterns forever. I still felt dirty though. But as a rule, if you ever want anything illegal, if you want to find the corruption or a cities dark underbelly... look for the Nigerians... you can't miss them the way they dress. Or you can just find cab drivers... who are often Nigerian anyway. Cab drivers are also a valuable resource when you are looking for some sin in a new city. I never once got into one of those three wheeled cabs in Bangkok called "Tuk-tuk's" without being offered a "massagy-massagy," Not once.
When I was in high school and I wanted some beer or alcoholoc beverages... I'd just call for a cab... and when the guy got there... I'd tell him to go get me a twelve pack or something... then I would do that "rip the twenty dollar bill in half" trick and tell him he'd get to keep the other half when he came back. They loved that. It always produced for me. It's one of the most secret agent like things you could do... ripping a bill in half like that... it's an all or nothing move... it's like saying neither one of us trusts the other but this twenty... that's what it's all about. Of course you gotta figure in the cab fare too.
I think Nigeria has the worlds biggest cab driver school or something. Most Nigerian guys grow up to be cab drivers... the ones with more education do internet scams... white collar work. From what I've seen... those are your only two career paths if you're from Nigeria. Smuggling and dealing in hashish is just a very common side gig. And they had this scam where they used a computer to alter prepaid phone cards and increase their value. Nigerians can be geniuses.
It was a Nigerian that taught me that if you took the local train long distance in Japan you could have a friend get on at the station before your destination and give you an extra ticket he bought there for like a buck and you could save hundreds because if you over rode your fair they didn't check on the train... you just had to pay when you inserted your ticket at the exit. Those Nigerians.
The Japanese didn't have much an apetite for the devils weed... they preferred amphetamines... something I never did. I always thought it would be pretty hillarious to hang out with some really stoned Japanese people. I wondered what their eyes could possibly look like when they were smoking pot.
The other gaurd in the picture... the mean looking one... noted the transaction as if to say 'I had better get my cut' and the money quickly dissapeared with all of the magnificence of a Las Vegas slieght of hand magician.
You could see it in the officers eyes... and he didn't appreciate my shutter happy finger either. I thought this would be another precious roll of thirty five millimeter lost to the angry hands of the authorities. That stuff is hard to come by in Siberia you know.
It was obvious these men were used to being treated to such gratuities. Probably they sent word ahead... there is a man in the rear cabin who treats security officials very well.
It reminded me of the consulate officer at the Russian embassy in Beijing who informed me that they were 'all out of visas' until I produced my last eight american dollars... and even then he motioned for me to show him the inside of my bag because I'm sure he wanted to make it an even ten. That's why you keep your money in different pockets. Miraculously the rubber stamp that made visas was rejuvenated and after a strong smack on the stamp pad was good for just one more visa.
Our cabin and our bags were never searched. Not anywhere on the entire journey. They could have contained a ton of heroin or four chinese children set out to work in the kitchens of europe.
At this time I didn't know what the two Andres and their female cohort were smuggling, but I had hoped that it was indeed something that would make the journey more pleasant.
My passport was taken from me there at Manzhoulli and I was issued Russian travel papers that I carried for the duration of the trip. Papers that were stamped with a radiation symbol the morning after we tore ass through the radiated zone caused by the disaster at Chernobyl. To this day I wonder how the passport was returned to me as I departed Russia at the Polish border.
Later Sergei 'the compensated' and I sat outside the Manzhoulli station where he smoked a cigarette and asked me questions about America. It wasn't small talk... Sergei had a deep interest in the way things were there... why our countries grew up in this diabolic situation of mutual assured nuclear destruction. What was so different about us his words seemed to say in a meandering way. I saw then that Sergei was raised too on the same diet of propoganda that I was... just the other end of the spectrum. I remember it seemed as if we both realized that right at the same time... his deep basso Russian laughter overwhelmed mine and carried beyond our immediate confines to precede me into Siberia.
I uncapped the pewter whiskey flask in my bag... the one decorated with the golfers on it that I shoplifted from Carson Perie Scott's in high school and we shared a sip. The same one the port official in Shanghai uncapped to smell but never dared to partake of. I crushed that flask when I had it in my back pocket when I fell off the back of a moving truck... the flask was empty... which undoubtably had something to do with me falling off of the back of a moving truck... but I was crushed too because I loved that flask. I ended up filling it with water and freezing it repeatedly until the crushed metal expanded outward. Plus I think it's realy the only thing I've ever shoplifted... except for candy and stuff like that. I just fell in love with that thing the first time I saw it. I knew then that I had to have it and I carried it around the whole world.
In Siberia vodka was golden... but whiskey... even the cheap Japanese stuff I carried...Suntory I think... it produced a reaction in my Russian friends like nothing I had ever seen. One sip... savored as if it were sent from heaven above and there were kisses and bear hugs. One sip of whiskey to a Russian then always opened up an immediate and strong friendship. Sometimes it even lasted longer than the fire it produced in your stomach and the burn in your throat.
I watched the sunset there that evening in Manzhoulli. Alone at the side of the rails I wished that someone would have walked over... sat next to me... and even in the silence of those who speak no common language... just appreciated that Manzhoulli sunset with me.
If I could have found one...I would have paid a prostitute just to sit next to me and enjoy that there. But I've heard that prostitutes always make you pay extra for weird stuff like that. I did after all have a bag of Yuan's that I worked out of the black market in China. The ones that I was left with after they wouldn't let me buy booze with them. The ones only chinese citizens are supposed to carry. Foreigners in China are supposed to carry a different money than the Chinese... they're called foreign exchange certificates. I called them 'fecks' because I like to come up with acronyms or slang names for things. It makes me sound smarter... like I been around the block a time or two.
Chinese money confused me... they rarely used coins... I'd break a one yuan note... worth maybe twenty cents and about the size of a buck... and for change I'd get a bunch of smaller notes of differing sizes. It was like some of their cash was as small as a postage stamp. After a week I had so much of the stuff and couldn't figure out how to use it... I'd just open my hip bag and let the bus driver or shop keeper help themselves.
It was the hearbreak of the solo traveller... that I should be in a place of such significance and see something of extraordinary beauty and have no one there to even draw breath with in in the way one does when confronted with such magnificence. The sigh of beauty.
Envy was the emotion I always felt as I watched others hold hands or share the entwinement of a lovers arms... those who whispered to each other at these moments... them who had someone stand on the pier or at the station to wish them bon voyage... even more so they who met someone to welcome them to their destination.
I always stepped off of my conveyance alone.
I was there alone as the sun set on Asia... I said goodbye as it was dropping low over Mongolia and casting a gorgeous and firery reflection off of the steppes and the deserts miles distant.
It would be to me my last sunset of Asia.
And my last stupid thought. Possibly it was the vodka the Andres forced upon me there... but I clasped my hands behind my head and layed back on my backpack as the sun rounded the earth... and I entertained myself with a promise that if I were ever to become filthy rich that I would buy my childhood home... the one I grew up in... have it taken apart piece by piece and put into shipping containers where I would then have them shipped here... or maybe to the Steppes of Mongolia in front of me... and reassembled exactly as it was. I didn't care where... I just thought it would be loads of fun to take my childhood home apart and rebuild it somewhere really far away.
That I might live in my house and look out the window at this place.
"Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need." - Khalil Gibran
-----
Every Tuesday at work we have 'soup day'. Someone from the office brings in homemade soup and shares with the soup people; this week was my turn.
Part of bringing in soup is supplying some bread to dunk so this morning after setting the soup up in the office crockpot I ventured to the market to grab some freshly baked bread.
I passed by the inspiration village and noticed how quiet it was and decided to drag my camera out of my bag to get a shot of this gigantic sign reminding people what city they were in.
I haven't done much to celebrate Canada 150 but I may as well make use of a good photography opportunity when one presents itself!
Hope everyone has had a good day.
Oh, and if you're wondering, it was cream of asparagus soup and it was a hit!
Click "L" for a larger view.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are not at Cavendish Mews. We have travelled east across London, through Bloomsbury, past the Smithfield Meat Markets, beyond the Petticoat Lane Markets* frequented by Lettice’s maid, Edith, through the East End boroughs of Bethnal Green and Bow, to the 1880s housing development of Upton Park. It is here that Frank’s closest and only surviving relation lives: his elderly Scottish grandmother, Mrs. McTavish. Edith and Frank have just become officially engaged after Frank proposed to Edith in the middle of a photography studio in Clapham Junction on Wednesday, a carefully planned ruse with his friend who works at the studio, where Frank presented Edith with a dainty silver ring her bought from a jewellers in Lavender Hill** Edith wasted no time telling her parents, Ada and George, that day, but the pair of them decided to tell Mrs. McTavish together on their Sunday off.
Getting out at Upton Park railway station, the pair exit the polychromatic red and brown brick Victorian railway station with its ornate finials and elegant quoining walking out into the bright summer sunshine. The glare of natural light after being in the London underground blinds them momentarily. Before them the busy high street shopping precinct of Green Street stretches in either direction to their left and right, the noisy thoroughfare chocked with a mixture of chugging motor cars, lorries and the occasional double decker electrical tram. Even horse drawn carts with placid plodding old work horses unperturbed by the belching of their mechanical usurpers join the melee of trundling traffic going in either direction. People bustle past them on the footpath, going about their Sunday business cheerily, many off to the nearby Queens Road Market.
“Come on.” Frank says comfortingly as he sees his fiancée’s nervous face, grasping Edith’s hand. “Cross with me and you’ll be safe.”
Taking his proffered hand gratefully, Edith takes a deep breath as the pair cross the busy thoroughfare of Green Street, weaving their way through the traffic. Reaching the other side safely, the pair head west a short distance before turning down the elm tree lined Kings Road, which is flanked to either side with identical polychromatic cream and red brick two storey Victorian terraces with grey or painted stone dressings. As Edith looks at their façades over the top of their low brick fences, familiar to her now, each one with a small bay with two windows downstairs and two upstairs, a recessed porch and front door with a window above that, she remembers how the first time she walked down Kings Road with Frank beneath the shade of the elm trees, she noticed the slight flutter of several sets of lace curtains in the downstairs and imagined the owners eyeing her with suspicion. Now she has been down Kings Road so many times with Frank and been introduced to so many of them, she knows the names of some of the suburban housewives peering out from the comfort of their front rooms.
“Hullo Mrs. McClintock!” Edith says brightly, waving to a woman standing at her window in a floral sprigged patterned dress who waves back cheerfully in recognition of Edith.
“Remember how nervous you were the first time we came to see Gran?” Franks asks Edith, putting his arm comfortingly around her and drawing her to him.
“How could I ever forget that?” Edith replies with a chuckle that is a mixture of both relief and nervousness as she remembers. “I was sure that Upton Park was going to be full of grand houses, and your Gran was going to be some grand Victorian lady, like old Mrs. Hounslow, my parents’ landlady, all dressed in black with lace trimmings.
“That makes me laugh.” Frank guffaws. “Gran was quite chuffed about being presumed to be a high-and-mighty matron!”
Edith sighs and allows herself to fall into Frank’s protective embrace and press against his side as they walk. The familiar scent of him: a mixture of soap and the grocery shop, is comforting and familiar to her now.
“I told you that you had nothing to worry about, and that Gran was as nervous as you. Not that she’d ever tell me.”
“And you were right, Frank.” Edith sighs. “Thank goodness!”
They stop in front of a terrace behind a low brick wall just the same as all the others, its front door painted black and a small patch of lawn, devoid of any other vegetation filling the space between the street and the house.
“Come on then, Edith.” Frank says with a winning smile. “Let’s go tell Gran our good news.”
After walking through the unlocked main door and walking down the black and white lino lined hallway of the terrace, the couple let themselves into Mrs. McTavish’s ground floor flat and walk into her kitchen, a cosy room dominated by a big black range and featuring a dresser that is stuffed with all manner of mismatched decorative china and a panoply of cooking items, just like Edith’s mother’s Welsh dresser in Harlesden. The walls are covered with cream coloured wallpaper featuring dainty floral sprigs. Several framed embroideries hang around the room and a cuckoo clock ticks contentedly to the left of the range. A rug covers the flagstone floor before the hearth. A round table covered in a pretty lace tablecloth has several mismatched chairs and stools drawn up to it. On the table itself stands a healthy looking aspidistra which obviously benefits from the sun as it filters through the lace curtains at the large kitchen window. Just like her mother’s table when guests come to call, a selection of decorative blue and white crockery has been set out, ready for use. A shop bought Dundee Cake***, still with its ornamental Scottish tartan ribbon wrapped around it, sits on a plate. A sewing work table with a sagging floral bag for storage beneath it stands open, its compartments filled with needles, thread, wool, buttons and everything a sewer and knitter needs. And there, in her usual place in her very old and worn brown leather wingback chair sits Frank’s Scottish grandmother, Mrs. McTavish.
“Och my bairns!” Mrs. McTavish enthuses in delight when she receives the exciting news from the happy pair, her voice thick with her Scottish brogue. “Och! I’m so happy for you!”
Sitting in her old, worn leather wingback chair with the tartan rug draped over the back, the old Scottish woman with her wrinkled face, reaches out and grasps Edith’s hands as the younger woman crouches down before Mrs. McTavish. Edith can see her eyes, buried amid a myriad of wrinkles sparkling with tears of joy.
Edith squeezes Mrs. McTavish’s thin and gnarled fingers tightly. “I knew you’d be happy for us, Mrs. McTavish.” She says with a beaming smile.
“Och! How could I not be?” the old woman chortles back. “I’m getting my greatest wish.” She looks across to her grandson as he fiddles with her white china kettle, placing it next to the hob on her old black coal consuming range, and smiles lovingly. “My Francis is getting wed, at last! And not before time, I might add, Edith dearie!” She glances back at Edith and says in a staged whisper quite loud enough for Frank to hear, “I’ve been telling Francis for months to propose to you!”
“Oh Gran!” Frank gasps with embarrassment as he turns from the range to face his grandmother. “How many times must I ask you to call me Frank. I’m Frank now, not Francis!”
“Och! What onsense!” the old Scottish woman says sharply, leaning forward in her seat and slapping her grandson’s forearm lightly. “You’ll always be Francis to me, my little bairn! It was the name your mither**** and faither***** gave you when you were baptised, so Francis you’ll be.”
Frank rolls his eyes at Edith, who tries to stifle her girlish giggle as she does. “Francis is a girl’s name, not a boy’s one.”
“Nonsense bairn!” Mrs. McTavish says again. “Must I keep reminding you about Francis Drake the great Elizabethan explorer? Hhmm? He was no lady!”
“And must I keep reminding you, Gran, that we don’t live in Elizabethan times.” Frank retorts with a shake of his head.
“That’s enough cheek from you, my bairn!” Mrs. McTavish replies with another gentle slap. “This is your Gran you’re talking to.”
“Yes Francis.” Edith says with a cheeky smile. “Be polite and respect your elders.”
“You keep out of this, my girl!” Frank laughs, wagging a finger at his fiancée, looking lovingly at her.
“Och! Ignore him, the silly bairn! You’re a good girl, Edith dearie.” Mrs. McTavish says happily. “You’ll be such a good influence on him.”
“I’d like to think that we are both a good influence on one another, Mrs. McTavish.” Edith replies. “Frank and I believe in an equal partnership. Don’t we Frank?”
“We do, Edith.” he answers simply.
“Just so, dearie.” Mrs. McTavish agrees. “So it was with my husband and I, and Francis’ parents too.”
“So, you’ve been telling Frank to propose to me for a while have you?” Edith asks, standing up from before the old woman, picking up a bright brass tea canister and a teaspoon from the small pedestal table drawn up to Mrs. McTavish’s chair and handing them to Frank.
“Aye, that I have dearie.” the old Scotswoman replies. “But he just kept fobbing me off, telling me some nonsense that it just wasn’t quite the right time.”
“He said the same thing to me a number of times, Mrs. McTavish.” Edith laughs. “We had the most beastly argument about it the day we went up the Elephant****** to do some window shopping.”
“And I was right.” Frank replies with a tone of justification in his voice. “It wasn’t the right time then, as it happens.” He opens the canister and spoons in fresh tealeaves into the china pot.
“Remember to add an extra scoop for the pot, bairn*******.” Mrs. McTavish reminds her grandson.
“How many times have I made tea for us in my life, Gran?” Frank laughs lightly. “If I don’t know that by now, after all these years and the many pots I’ve brewed, then I never will.”
“Just making sure, bairn.” Mrs. McTavish nestles back into the padded back of her chair. Then she thinks for a moment, her eyes flicking as she sits forward again. “And don’t stir that pot with…”
“I know, Gran, with the handle*****.” Frank replies. “It’s bad luck.”
“Aye! That it is, bairn.” The old woman turns to Edith. “Once the tea is made, you must stir it with the bowl of the spoon, Edith dearie, and not the handle, or it will be nothing but strive for you when you get wed!” She nods emphatically with a stern mouth that has retracted to nothing but a think line across her old, weatherworn face.
“I’d already partially paid of your silver ring, Edith and had it engraved that afternoon we spent up the Elephant.” Frank goes on, picking up the conversation about the timing of his proposal to Edith. “I wanted to give it to you when I proposed, so it really wasn’t the right time to do it. I just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”
“I know that now, Frank.” Edith assures him. “And it was perfect. It was perfectly wonderful, and it is a day I shall always remember for the rest of my life!” She sighs happily.
“I should hope you would, Edith.” Frank answers with a good natured chuckle as he returns the canister to his grandmother’s table. “After all, it isn’t every day that you get a photographic portrait sitting and a proposal all in the one day!”
“I’ll say Frank.” Edith looks down fondly upon her new silver ring, gleaming on her ring finger.
Edith has decided not to tell Lettice of her engagement, only announcing it once she and Frank have set a date for the wedding, a decision her mother, Ada, is very much in agreement with, worrying that the engagement may make Lettice see Edith as a liability rather than the valued maid-of-all-work that she currently is. To stop the ring from getting damaged by the hard work she does, during the week Edith has taken up wearing it on a small chain around her neck, but every Wednesday afternoon and Sunday she has off, Edith slips it back onto her ring finger proudly once she is out of sight of Cavendish Mews.
“I’m still sorry that it is only silver, dear Edith.” Frank goes on as he fills the teapot with boiling water from Mrs. McTavish’s gleaming copper kettle.
“I keep telling you, Francis,” she emphasises Frank’s real name as she speaks, indicating that this the point she is about to make, she does not want to again. “That a silver ring is good enough for me. In fact, it’s more than enough. I wasn’t expecting an engagement ring at all.”
“Well,” Frank blushes. “All the same, you shall have a gold wedding ring. Edith can wear Mum’s wedding ring, can’t she Gran?” He turns and looks hopefully at his grandmother as she sits in her chair. “You still have it, don’t you?”
“Och!” the old woman scoffs dismissively. “Well of course I do, bairn!” She hooks her thin, wrinkled fingers into the lace collar of the white blouse and fishes out a small golden chain about her neck, upon which hang two golden rings. “Your mither’s and your faither’s.” She smiles. “Better than lying and going to waste in the ground, bairn. Edith can wear your mither’s, whilst you can wear your faither’s, and that way they remain the pair that they are.”
“Oh Mrs. McTavish!” Edith gasps. “I couldn’t…”
However, the old woman holds up a hand, stopping Edith from speaking any more.
“Help me will you, Edith dearie.” She indicates with gesticulations that she cannot unfasten the clasp of the chain by herself with her old hands. “And Francis.” She holds out a pretty knitted tea cosy that was sitting on the arm of her chair to her grandson. “Cosy!”
“Thanks Gran!” Frank says gratefully, slipping it over the teapot.
Obediently, Edith walks up to Mrs. McTavish, and with the dexterity of her nimble fingers, unfastens the clasp of the chain. The old Scottish woman holds up her right hand to catch the two rings in her palm as Edith carefully lowers the chain.
“Good girl.” Mrs. McTavish says with a sigh, looking at the two golden rings which gleam warmly in the light filtering through the kitchen window.
“Mrs. McTavish…” Edith begins again, only to be silenced by the old woman’s raised palm again.
“Mum and Dad would want us to have them and use them, Edith.” Frank assures her, as he swirls the cosy covered teapot in his hands before filling the dainty blue and white floral cup next to his grandmother with brackish red tea. “They’ll be looking down from above on our wedding day and smiling.”
“I don’t know, Frank.” Edith answers in a doubtful voice.
“You know, when Francis’ parents were taken by the Spanish Influenza,” Mrs. McTavish begins, looking earnestly at Edith. “I was broken hearted. Aye, I was.”
“Oh I can only imagine, Mrs. McTavish.”
“Eileen was my only daughter, and she and Bernard were a fine couple.” The old woman’s eyes mist up a little as she continues, glistening with unshed tears that threaten to spill from her lids. “They would want these rings to have a continued life, and I’m sure they couldn’t have wished for a happier one than that of their Francis and his new wife.” She reaches out her left hand and squeezes Edith’s clasped hands. “It’s just a natural progression of their rings’ lives. So, no arguing, Edith dearie.” Blinking back her tears she smiles, albeit a little morosely. “Alright?”
“Alright Mrs. McTavish.” Edith acquiesces quietly.
“Och!” the Scottish woman scoffs again. “We’re going to have to do something about that too!”
“About what, Mrs. McTavish?” Edith asks.
“Yes Gran, about what?” Frank echoes as he takes the top over to the round dining table and fills his and Edith’s cups with tea.
“All this Mrs. McTavish business!” she replies, shaking her hands in front of her as if shooing away her name. “Mrs. McTavish this. Mrs. McTavish that. You can’t very well go on calling me Mrs. McTavish, Edith dearie, now you’re marrying my Francis.”
“That’s a good point, Gran.” Frank opines. “I hadn’t really considered that.”
“Well, luckily,” the old woman says sagely. “I did!”
“You’ll be a part of the Leadbetter family, Edith.” Frank says. “It’s true, you can’t go on calling Gran, Mrs. McTavish.”
“Well, I’ve been calling you Mrs. McTavish… err… Mrs. McTavish,” Edith replies apologetically. “Because that that was what Frank and I decided upon on that first day I met you.”
“We did and all!” Frank laughs. “In the hallway, just out there, before we came in.”
“I can’t call you Nyree, even though it’s such a lovely name, Mrs. McTavish.” Edith says. “It wouldn’t be right. You’re more senior than I am. It isn’t respectable.”
“Och what rubbish!” Mrs. McTavish replies, swatting the air at Edith’s remark. “Of course you can. And no-one has called me Nyree for a long time. Not really since my husband died in 1912, so it would be quite nice to be called that again.”
“No,” Edith insists. “It wouldn’t be right.”
The trio fall into silence for a few moments whilst they contemplate the question at hand. Only the quiet ticking of the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall by the range and the crackle of the range itself breaking the quiet as it settles thickly about them.
“Why not Gran, then, Edith?” Frank finally says, breaking the silence. “Like I do. What do you think, Gran?”
“Aye!” Mrs. McTavish agrees with a smile broadening on her face. “That’s a grand idea, Francis. You’re more than just a pretty face, my sweet bairn.”
“Thank you Gran.” he says with pride, for once not minding her calling him by his real name.
“Do you think you could call me, Gran, Edith dearie?” Mrs. McTavish asks Edith.
“Well,” Edith contemplates the suggestion. “I’ll have to get used to it, and I might not always do it to start off with.” She sighs. “Habits can be hard. However, I’d love to… Gran.”
A cosy kitchen this may be, but it is not quite what it seems, for it is made up entirely of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
Dominating the room is the large kitchen range which is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water). The fringing hanging from the mantle is actually a beautiful scalloped ribbon that was given to me one Christmas time by a very close friend of mine.
Mrs. McTavish’s intentionally worn leather wingback chair and the sewing table are both 1:12 artisan miniatures. The inside of the sewing table is particularly well made and detailed with a removable tray made up of multiple compartments. Beneath it, the floral fabric lines the underside and opens up into a central bag. Both pieces come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The sewing items which sit on its top also came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop and various online specialists on E-Bay. The tartan rug draped over the back of the chair I have had since I was about six. It came with a blanket rocker miniature I was given for my sixth birthday.
The sewing basket that you can see on the floor next to the pedestal table I bought from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house furnishings. It is an artisan miniature and contains pieces of embroidery and embroidery threads.
On the small pedestal table next to Mrs. McTavish’s chair comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop, as does the bright tea caddy, the blue and white china teacup and saucer and the spoon rest on its top. The spoon comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.
On the wall just behind Mrs. McTavish’s chair hangs a hand painted cuckoo clock. It has been made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces.
The tea cosy on the arm of Mrs. McTavish’s chair, which fits snugly over a white porcelain teapot on the side of the range, has been hand knitted in fine lemon, blue and violet wool. It comes easily off and off and can be as easily put back on as a real tea cosy on a real teapot. It comes from a specialist miniatures stockist in the United Kingdom, as does the copper kettle on the hob.
The coal scuttle, containing real coal is a beautiful example of canal barge ware from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. Narrow boat painting, or canal art is a traditional British folk art. This highly decorative folk art once adorned the working narrow boats of the inland waterways of Britain. Canal ware, barge ware, or gift ware, are used to describe decorated trinkets, and household items, rather than the decorated narrow boats.
In the background you can see Mrs. McTavish’s dark wood dresser cluttered with decorative china. I have had the dresser since I was a child. The shelves of the dresser have different patterned crockery which have come from different miniature stockists both in Australia and the United Kingdom.
The rug on the floor comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom.
"Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun. Care for those around you. Look past your differences. Their dreams are no less than yours, their choices no more easily made. And give, give in any way you can, of whatever you posses. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared and your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace.”
- Kent Nerburn
"We must give more in order to get more. It is the generous giving of ourselves that produces the generous harvest.”
- Orison Swett Marden
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The baby boy dressed with ‘no dress’ and his elder sister aside by in the window of clay house - that is the real representation of real rural view specially by means of costume.
Homage of Century at Bagan stupa - Myanmar
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Treecreeper with a beakful of crane flies for its young, the example of a devoted parent. Great to have a close view of this fantastic bird.
Created for dA Users Gallery Challenge 109 – Grass Dunes 22
texture by Pareeerica
texture by JoesSistah...
hand by: lindowyn-stock
Tree is the shouterstock
background is the FOTOLIA
Please visit my Kreative People group: Highlight Gallery
I love Christmas. It's my favourite time of the year: a season of kindness and generosity, friendship, laughter and love. It is also the time of the year when I get to indulge in, or reminisce about, traditions of Christmases past.
One of the latter that comes to mind is playing cards on Christmas Day after luncheon with my Grandmother or Mother. Our choice of Christmas parlour card game was always Gin. The game involves picking up and discarding cards, and laying down pairs, trios or quadruples of the same card type (for example two kings or two threes), or a run of three or more cards in a set (for example the ace, king and queen of hearts). The challenge is that once you set down two or three of a card type or a run, your fellow players may add their own remaining matching cards to yours, thus disposing of some of their cards from their hand. The winner is the one who lays down their whole hand of cards, calling out “gin” as they do so.
The theme for "Smile on Saturday" for the 14th of December is "kings and queens", which was actually my suggestion. When the theme was announced, I decided that, as my photostream has taken on a Christmas theme for December, that I would use some of my beautiful Dondorf playing cards, laying out two runs, one of kings and one of queens, against a Christmas wrapping background, with Christmas garland decorations to give it a festive feel. I have quite a number of sets of Dondorf cards, but this set with its amazing graphics ended up being my selection of kings and queens. I hope you like my choice for this week’s theme, and that it makes you smile.
These beautiful “Rokoko” No.158 whist playing cards were made in Germany by the card firm B. Dondorf in 1889, but were sold by the British playing card firm Hamilton, Hills and Company of Paternoster Row, in London. Marketed under their brand of “Unique Playing Cards”, they were sold in a gilt lettered Moroccan leather look cardboard presentation case, which I still have. The illustrator who created these beautiful cards obviously used the same model for the queen of each suite, and possibly the same model for the kings, but the King of Hearts has a decidedly Tsarist look about him that sets him apart from the others. Please also note that the Queen of Hearts has heart charms on her necklace, whilst the Queen of Diamonds wears a diamond choker. Although the court figures are not an accurate reflection of any historical period, this deck has been nicknamed “Rococo”. This pattern was published between 1889 and 1933. The cards printed by chromolithography with gold corners. The backs show honeysuckle on a cream background which was only used in 1889.
The firm of B. Dondorf was founded in April 1833 by the lithographer Bernard Dondorf, who headed the company until July 1872. In that year, Dondorf's sons Carl and Paul, as well as his son in law Jacob Fries, assumed control of the firm which continued to operate under the original trademark. Jacob Fries left the firm in the early part of 1890. From the beginning, the company specialised in all branches of lithography. In cooperation with the printing firm of C. Naumann, Dondorf also printed paper bank notes for the Italian National Bank and for the Imperial Japanese Government. In 1871, the firm moved within Frankfurt from the Saalgasse to a new and larger factory site in the Bockenheimer Landstrasse 136. The steady growth of the company required the building of still additional subdivisions in 1890 and 1895. Principal products of the firm were playing cards, various games, greeting and post cards and various religious prints. The export of playing cards at Dondorf's accounted for much of the firm's business. The Scandinavian countries of Denmark, Norway and Sweden in the period before World War I, for example, imported nearly all of their playing cards from Dondorf. Similarly, the Dutch East Indies, now Indonesia were excellent customers. Bernard Dondorf, the founder died in his 94th year. He earned an enviable reputation as a lithographer, especially for his technique of etching the stone with a diamond stylus. His special methods of engraving bank notes were also unique. In 1929 the decision was reached to liquidate the firm.
A Kristal - Mr. TRONA collaboration
I'm very pleased to post some even preliminary results of a collaboration with the very generous, very cool and talented Kristal -- www.flickr.com/photos/kristyk/.
Her shots were grabbed in New Mexico & mine in Maryland. These few posts were almost randomly chosen and are low res, quickly edited versions of, in some cases, wonderful images. Appropriately, I'll be posting versions of these, our first CPP shots, that more closely reflect the unique character and beautiful style of some of our works thus far.
For now, thank you for taking a look. ^_^
This is a very funky edit, as you can see! Long week! ;-)
(THANKS again, Kristy! =).
OK. And now for something completely… similar….. to the description added to all my CPP posts:
CPP was first conceived of as a sort of abstraction a Surrealist game (known as "EXQUISITE CORPSE") while driving the lonely stretches of the 95 through the old American South (rural Georgia) in the spring of 1994. The project languished, a bit, for a while, but has been conferred new life due my ability to connect with other kind, creative souls here on Flickr! ^_^
I can't locate my formal description of the project, but I'll try to succinctly state its simplicity:
With E.C., partipants divide a piece of a paper into thirds or quaters, choosing, for instance, the human form. Each participant chooses a section of the form to complete, covering their work, leaving only lines to give the next player a starting point for the next section of the piece. The result can be something quite surprising and, sometimes even good! ;)
I chose to use double exposure photographs. The CPP images have mostly been produced directly in the camera (35mm). With no fixed form in mind, participants grab an image to be integrated with the photograph of another in the camera, and hopefully the result is just as surprising and, even good!
I'm interested in refining the method to CPP madness, and look forward to discussing this with current and future collaborators.
Please feel free to Flickr-mail me with any comments, questions, etc., and thank you for taking a look.
Generosity & kindness have a name : The sixt day
Thank you for all your kind words and for your presence
Ray Conniff Singers - Stranger in Paradise
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEzO0X_6lbU
Mantovani - Stranger in paradise
Bagan 2 Light low key Photography Workshop
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Last but not least, a photography journey of life time for a trip to explore South Island of New Zealand and Africa.
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My intended schedule may estimate about 1 month round trip self drive traveling down scenic Southern Island of New Zealand for completing the most captivating landscape photography and wander into the big five, the wilderness of untamed Africa nature for my project 2016 before my physical body stamina eventually drain off.
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Great Ocean Drive- the 12 Apostle's
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