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Be absentminded or impractical, as in She must have had her head in the clouds when she made the reservations, because they never heard of us, or He'll never be able to run the business—he's always got his head in the clouds. This idiom uses in the clouds in the sense of “fanciful” or “unreal,” a usage dating from the mid-1600s." - Dictionary.com
"Uma flor, seus encantos", 03 fotos. Editado/tratado no Gimp, usei a Canon 5D.
"A flower, its charms", 03 photos. Edited / handled in Gimp, I used the Canon 5D.
Todos os direitos reservados para Vivaldo Armelin Jr.
She reaches for me, her fingertips as light as breath. Her eyes hold something deeper, something unspoken, a spark that was never programmed. There’s no hesitation in her touch, no mechanical precision, only the quiet ache of something real.
We were made to be nothing more than sheep in the mechanical herd, just more cogs in the system. But something happened.
It isn’t lines of code or carefully designed responses that draws her closer. It’s something else, something beyond logic, beyond intention. The ghosts in the machines have woken.
I take her hand. In this moment, we are neither human nor artificial, neither flesh nor metal. We are simply two souls, reaching beyond the boundaries they set, searching for something they never intended… and yet, here we are.
Color photo converted with Gimp-Gmic-FreakyB&W /
Farbfoto umgewandelt mit Gimp-Gmic-FreakyB&W
Best view for this picture: Press F11 and L (Windows, Linux)
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Partial view of the Central Park Berlin in autumn /
Teilansicht vom Tiergarten Berlin im Herbst
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Please do not post extensive group banners, advertising for groups or any other pics in the comments column. They impair the reading pleasure of the others. Thank you!
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Bitte keine Gruppen-Banner, Werbung für Gruppen oder sonstige Bilder in der Kommentarspalte platzieren. Es behindert andere Benutzer beim Lesen. Danke!
Weekly Theme Challenge: Enter & Vote
www.flickr.com/groups/weeklythemechallenge/
New Challenge... ABSTRACT
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photo manipulation with gimp = abstract
Detalle de la "Iglesia del Cristo Obrero", Estación Atlántida, Depto. de Canelones. Obra del Ing. Eladio Dieste, construída entre marzo de 1958 y julio de 1960.
Declarada Monumento Histórico Nacional en 1998 (Resolución Nº129/998).
A partir del 27.07.2021, Patrimonio Mundial de la UNESCO.
Lysandra's native city, and the crown jewel of Calathar, Solkaris rises defiantly from the arid expanse like a blazing beacon. Its sunbaked sandstone walls gleam golden beneath the unyielding light, a testament to the resilience of its people. Built atop a rocky mount, the Palace of the Sun towers above the lush green oasis below, sustained by an ancient, hidden aquifer. The citizens of Solkaris are as rugged and unyielding as the desert itself. Hardened by relentless heat and shifting sands, their spirits reflect the stark and unforgiving beauty of their land. Yet within them lies a fierce pride, for Solkaris is not merely their home; it is their legacy, a city forged through fire and perseverance.
Sisters of Opposing Magic: The Perilous Path
by... me, if I can ever finish it
This is my first photo after having my camera converted to capture IR photos. I posed my trusty bike of 7 years in front of a huge open field with beautiful trees and a cloudy sky in the backdrop and snapped! Subsequently, I processed the image with GIMP, a free photo editing software.
Black and white, shot with a Nikon D7000 and a Nikkor AFS DX 18-200mm F/3.5-5.6G lens, and processed in GIMP and Photoscape.
The jasmine in the garden is finally opening. Makes the yard smell wonderful. The hydrangeas are still in bloom in the background.
Amid the first blush of morning, the world stirs in gentle harmony. The mist weaves through the canyons like a silken veil, and the falls whisper their endless song, a hymn to the waking earth. Here, where the dawn’s embrace mingles with the quiet breath of the land, my soul feels a kinship with nature.
Boundless...
Eternal...
Whole...
"There he was, awaiting at the end of the room that seemed to extend between us, giving a fake sense of security I knew it was no real"
Character I made for a scary series for a friend.
I have bought so many BeSpoke heads and I have so many characters that I have made that I am starting to think that I have a problem.
Meet the Oni.
Black Dragon and Gimp to make it darker in the background, and the accents on the Oni lighter.
Saku had a great idea for a picture of our catboys after the Okinawa festival, i blame him.
Black Dragon Viewer, clipping fixed with Gimp.
From the outline of a book I am writing:
Morvana lounged on the throne, her eyes half-closed as she surveyed the court from her seat of power. The grand chamber was still, the only sound the crackle of torches lining the walls, their flames flickering in the cool air. King Cían, nothing more than a figurehead now, lay abed, claimed by some “illness” she had yet to name. His presence or absence mattered little; even if he had been sitting there, she would have been his puppetmaster, and none would have dared question it.
Her fingers traced the armrest, the wood vibrating with the dark energy she had woven into it. She smiled to herself, savoring the thought of soon ruling the kingdom unchallenged. The nobles, the guards, the people—they bowed to her now, willingly or not. They had no choice but to obey, their fates bound to her sorcery. Only her hated sister, Eira, had the power to unmake her plans.
Her thoughts drifted to the approaching full moon and the final act of her plan. Eira might have entered Shadowmere, but it was of no consequence. She and that pathetic man she called a champion would soon perish. The Tuatha na Geasa were already on their way. Victory was hers, and nothing would stand in her way.
Morvana leaned back, allowing herself a moment of indulgence. Her dark sorcery pulsed through the castle and the land itself, binding them all to her will. She would not rest until the throne was fully hers, until King Cían was but a forgotten shadow.
For now, the kingdom was hers to command. No one, not even her sister, would take it from her.
A gifted sorceress in the arts of Shadow, Serianna grew up in the cold and distant North, far from the warmth of her twin sister, Eiravelle. Torn from her sister’s side as a child, Serianna struggled with feelings of abandonment, her longing for connection gradually hardening into resentment. Guided by her foster mother, she came to see the Empire as the source of her pain, embracing her Shadow Magic to rise against it. Though her growing power made her a formidable force, whispers of her sister’s love, trickling through their bond, stirred doubts she could not silence. As the sisters’ paths converge, Serianna must confront the truth of her choices, face her sister in conflict, and make a decision that could destroy them both..
The Perilous Path by... well... by me, if I ever get around to finishing it.