Leica Summilux 50mm f/1.4 ASPH

him: how did it happen?

her: don't know. I was driving my car into a parking space and... I... it was so bad.

him: do you think this could happen again?

her: I'm afraid so.

I was in the wedding party. I taught the photographer hired about TTV and let him use my Duaflex. HAHAHA. another one bites the dust.

By this point I have been myself for getting for a month with the odd day as him just for work or family dues, By this point I have to say I have just about had enough of having to make a big effort every day hence why I look more like him, The makeup is minimal and the hair due to the weather has just been left at is it.

 

I can totally understand why women don't make as much effort as we do its such hard work every day.

 

While in town today i walked by a couple ,the wife pushing the pram and the guy looking gormless. he then spots me and I know I v'e been read as i had a few times that day. In all honesty i felt like a guy so that probably came across more that way,

 

He starts to say to his partner rather frantically " THATS A GUY THATS A MAN" I was of course looking back at him by this point watching his partner looking around aimlessly. he continues "Over there its a man dressed as a woman" By this stage i just couldn't hold back any longer the fits of giggles from me evolved into the loudest laugh you have ever heard.

The Guy looked and realised he had been clocked his partner now discovered me and realised her partner had made a spectacle of them both and gave him the death stare. I walked of laughing.

I knew i didn't look convincing and that confirmed what i was feeling but after that i had a spring in my step as i was proud to be able to be me however i looked and only one man made any comment. Not bad for the good old UK,

Vide-grenier et brocante, Lunas, France

IMG-20170622-0377

Der hohe Gehalt an Ballaststoffen regt die Verdauung an. Himbeeren enthalten viel an Vitaminen der B-Gruppe sowie Vitamin C. Außerdem weisen sie die Mineralstoffe Kalium, Kalzium, Magnesium, Mangan und Eisen auf. Ihre Antioxidantien und Farbstoffe, die Flavonoide, haben gesundheitsfördernde Eigenschaften.

 

╔═.. ☀️ ...................................... ══════╗

Danke für euren Besuch !

Thanks for your visit !

Ευχαριστώ για την επίσκεψη σας !

╚══════ ....................................... ☀️ . ═╝

Manchester Cathedral in background of new Mahatma Gandhi bronze statue

A 9 ft tall bronze statue designed by the Indian artist Ram Vanji Sutar ( born 19.2.1925 )was unveiled by distinguished political and religious leaders, and members of the Indian Government.

Weighing some 800 kegs the statue marks the 150th anniversary of Gandhi’s birth.

NOTE THE ZENITH SILVER POCKET WATCH !!!!! AT 2.50PM. 😀🐝😀🐝😀🐝😀🐝😀🐝 given time him by Indira Nehru

That is, fire him first, before he has the Constitution go completely up in flames.

 

I wanted to get this sign, but it wasn't until I got home and edited it on my computer that I noticed how the flags in the shot worked so well. This was shot not long before 11:00 AM. So things were just getting more interesting by this time.

Silver my Lord hiveth me,

Silver thou giveth me.

More than stars, more than words,

Side by side with my grief.

© B.G.

 

© All rights are reserved, please do not use my photos and videos without my permission. Don't use it on websites, blogs and other media sources!

 

Week 4 of 52 Weeks for Dogs for my Zooie

  

I love my three boys so much. Zooie, Benni, and Bubba brighten each day of my life with their fun personalities and their unconditional love. I hate to admit a deeper love for one of my boys over the others, but I have to confess that my Zooie is my heart.

 

I've thought about the things that bind my heart to his in such a profound way and I guess the main thing I've come up with is that he needs me. I rescued him, nursed him back to health, taught him how to go up stairs, how to live in a house and how to trust. I was with him everyday when we rescued him (and my husband was away on business) and he just learned to look to me.

 

While Benni and Bubba are family dogs, enjoying everyone's company, Zooie wants to be with me. He follows me around as I do my housework during the day, going up and down the stairs as I do. At night he waits for me to settle down in my place next to him on the couch. If I'm working in the kitchen or in my studio, he is unsettled and paces a bit until he lays down somewhere where he can see me. My husband tells me that when I go out at night, Zooie paces a lot and has difficulty getting settled. He only has separation anxiety when I am gone.

 

Besides Zooie's need for me, he is also one of the sweetest dogs I've ever known.. He has never growled at me or any member of my family. He has never even growled at a friend or neighbor once they are at the front door (when you are on his front lawn or across the street and he sees you, all bets are off). He is utterly submissive to his people, always walking over with his gaze averted. His head is usually down and he looks up at me with a shy, gentle expression. He is very obedient and tries very hard to please (but does have a little weakness when food is involved). He is calm and gentle with small children even when those children are not calm and gentle. I trust him completely.

 

The last thing I'll mention about my precious boy is that he is THE most balanced dog I've ever met when it comes to other dogs. He has a quiet conficence about him. He is the alpha but is never the bully. He exerts his dominence over the other dogs that come in the house in a calm and gentle way. Only when he is pushed, does he feel the need to make a show of his strength and ferocity, and then he doesn't ever "attack". He "warns" with a show of fangs and deep growls and then waits for the offending party to back away (like they always do). When a dog is nervous or anxious, Zooie always gives the dog space, avoids eye contact, moves slowly, and acts as if he's not there. That's my canine dog whisperer. He just knows how to be and he helps me so much by welcoming my new fosters into our home by giving off his non-threatening and balanced energy.

 

So...I did it again........I wrote too much. I know.... I always do. I guess I don't just write for all of you but also for me, so I can remeber the things I was feeling when I looked at the photos I took. I want to remember every last detail of my boy. I want to feel like he's still with me, even though one day he won't be. One day, when he's gone...reading this will mean everything to me.

  

During a thunderstorm I found this little toad on the edge of a road, so I gave him a ride to cross it. He seemed to appreciate it!

 

P.s. That's my left hand: he's exactly on the proximal phalanx of the little finger. Extremely little, extremely cute toad.

 

Bufo bufo. #WhyDidTheToadCrossTheRoad

 

Rospetto trovato sul ciglio di una strada durante un temporale: in foto si trova esattamente sulla prima falange del mio mignolo, giusto per dare un'idea delle dimensioni!

Sarebbe potuto stare abbondantemente largo anche appoggiato su una moneta da 1€.

 

If you're interested in some of my photos for your website or a print:

I'm an iStock by Getty Images and Fotolia contributor: visit my Portfolio.

 

Endangered Species International:

"WHY CARE FOR AMPHIBIANS?"

 

Amphibians are one of the main links in many ecosystem food webs. Often unseen, they can be quite abundant in some habitats. In temperate and tropical regions, amphibian can exceed all other terrestrial vertebrates such as birds, mammals, and reptiles. Amphibians including their larvae are important predators of invertebrates. Removal of amphibians from particular habitat can have drastic consequence by increasing insect populations. Through metamorphosis, many species of frogs and salamanders are a link of transfer of nutrient from aquatic systems to terrestrial ones. Therefore, removing amphibians from a particular habitat can affect drastically algae communities, invertebrate populations, predator dynamics, leaf litter decompositions, and nutrient cycling.

 

Preserving amphibian diversity is an important component for living in a healthy environment.

 

www.endangeredspeciesinternational.org/amphibians6.html

 

"WHAT CAN YOU DO TO SAVE AMPHIBIANS?": www.endangeredspeciesinternational.org/amphibians7.html

 

WORLD'S AMPHIBIANS UNDER THREAT:

 

Earth is facing its largest mass extinction since the disappearance of the dinosaurs, with up to half of the world's 6,000 amphibian species in danger of extinction, conservationists warn.

 

Amphibians (frogs and toads, newts, caecilians and salamanders) are being affected by habitat loss, climate change, pollution, pesticides and introduced species, but face an even bigger threat from a deadly parasitic fungus known as amphibian chytrid.

 

"The world's most endangered frogs": www.theguardian.com/environment/gallery/2008/jan/09/conse...

 

EUROPE'S AMPHIBIANS AT RISK:

 

More than half of all frogs, toads and newts living in Europe could be driven to extinction within 40 years, scientists have warned. Climate change, disease and habitat destruction are taking their toll, with research showing that more than 40 species could become extinct by 2050.

 

The majority of the most threatened species live in Mediterranean regions, which are expected to become warmer and drier. Island species, such as this Mallorcan midwife toad, are especially at risk because they are unable to move to cooler climates.

 

Researchers described the bleak outlook for Europe's amphibians at a meeting of the Zoological Society of London last night. Sir David Attenborough, who was due to attend the symposium, said: "Amphibians are the lifeblood of many environments, playing key roles in the function of ecosystems, and it is both extraordinary and terrifying that in just a few decades the world could lose half of all these species."

 

www.theguardian.com/environment/2008/sep/26/wildlife.cons...

 

www.theguardian.com/environment/gallery/2008/sep/26/conse...

 

If you like, visit my albums.

My most viewed, My most faved

 

© Giulia Schiavi - All Rights Reserved.

No Use Without Written Permission.

 

Using my photos without my permission is illegal. All material may not be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any way.

 

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America-An Angelic Prospectus (10-05)

 

1. He's going to let the pressure out

Before things get too old,

Before the fire stops burning-

Before it gets too cold.

 

He's going to get adjusted,

Before it gets too late-

Before the river runs its course

And leaves him at the gate.

 

He listened to you long enough,

Let you have your say-

Hunkered down in dreary towns,

Free-falling in the fray.

 

Some things don’t matter any more-

It’s plain enough to see,

Some things are very simple,

They happen….naturally.

 

2. Independence indigence,

Insurrection-on-

Spiritual insanity,

Delusion on the throne.

 

Continental congress,

Covenant complete-

Freedom found

From captive crown,

Taxation by defeat.

 

Won in war by warrior

Bowed behind the scene,

With governmental grannies

Gassed and running lean.

 

Sequential celebrations

Leaning to the right,

Took the town

To middle ground

Then sweetened up the fight.

 

3. Promise within promises,

Permanence in peace,

Stolen blind

By kindred minds

In national retreat.

 

God is gone,

Like Gustov’s ghost

On graduated ground-

Ridden rampant on a rail,

Run right out of town.

 

Religion’s rotting refuse,

Educated zeal,

Baby and bathwater,

Thrown out

By window seal.

 

Agreement by convenience,

The triad is complete-

The church, the crown,

The golden ground,

Professionals at least.

 

4. Garish, gloating, gatherings,

Temperamental tasks-

Tarnished targets

Tempting time with

Brutal baby blasts.

 

Fallen fronts,

Forensic flash,

Fine and faker fast-

Foul and festering

Filthy freight,

Fleeing from the past.

 

Happy hoppy horn toad,

Captain of the world-

No feral fear,

Calm crystal queer-

Call every boy and girl.

 

Mother’s mayhem

Adam’s aunt,

Gone completely mad-

Tried-on,

Tricked-up trousers

Tenderized a tad.

 

5. Evening ever-afters,

Happy once again-

Haunted house,

Forget the spouse,

“Egad”

The men are dead.

 

Lovely Lucys laughing,

Controlling interest lair,

The lion is dead,

So go to bed-

Don’t bother with the bear.

 

Fashion fledgling,

Faded farce,

Fractured flaky foe-

Disneyed duckling

Drawn and daft,

Domesticated woe.

 

Fricasseed and

Freezer freed,

Stolen by the mole-

Galloping,

The gourmet ran

Grimly to the goal.

 

6. Down and distance

Delicate,

Don’t do the

Dirty Dan.

Playmate pawns

Now petrified,

Passed on by

Peter Pan.

 

Willful,

Wicked wonders-

Empty and petite-

Cover blown,

Refused by phone-

Destined for defeat.

 

Sayonara Sonya-

Cronkite caught a cold-

While Willy Wonka

Whacked a weed,

Then headed down

The road.

 

7. Christ like crucifixions,

Criminal and crass,

Crippled captains

Carcassed cold,

Middle-eastern mass.

 

Choose to tremble,

Choose to cheat,

Choose whom you will serve-

Choose to conquer,

Or..Choose defeat-

The quintessential blurb.

 

Honing hackers

Headed home,

Hackensackin fools,

Round and round

To tumble down-

With detrimental tools.

 

8. Hemispheric hovering-

Contract incomplete-

Pioneered truth

By blazered brute,

Confused by

Quiet elite.

 

It’s given best,

To those who rest,

In reverential form.

With wealth well cast

To traveler who’s sheltered

From the storm.

 

Retreat is not an option-

By this time life is spent-

Though living in

And impact zone

Is hardly worth the rent.

 

9. Revolution ready-

Armed and graveled green-

No average addled army,

To slay this brazen queen.

 

Unseen waiting Warrior-

Wondrous to behold-

Breastplate bronzed

And burnished-

Countenance so bold.

 

Dispatched in dog-ged duty,

Determined and complete-

To fight with fire and fury,

Till victory’s at his feet!

 

James Watkins 10-05

Wally went home after he helped me take care of the bank robbery. For such a small task I’m sure he thought I called him because I was distracted. He’d be wrong though, I called him because I love working with him. In some ways I’m glad that he got his powers, but in others I’m afraid that he’ll use his powers when they’re not needed and get caught.

 

Barry makes his way up into his room and checks his watch. As he does he remembers that he has a date at Carmine’s with Iris at eight and the time is seven fifty-five. He quickly throws off his shirt and pants and runs to his closet to get a new outfit on. He grabs a dress shirt and a jumper and pulls them over his head. Before he leaves he grabs his favorite bow-tie and wraps it around his neck quickly. The bow-tie was given to him by Iris, his wife, on their first date. With his bow-tie tied he quickly grabs his wallet and watch and makes his way to Carmine’s to meet Iris. Before he gets to Carmine’s he makes a quick stop at a flower shop. He sped through the shop and grabbed a bouquet of flowers and left the right amount of money on the counter within the blink of an eye.

 

Yeah, that might have been a dumb idea, but I have no time to waste. I need to get to Carmine’s quickly and I have no time to deal with the shop owner. After I grab the flowers I make my way to Carmine’s. I stop about a block away in some alley and walk from there. This is mainly to throw suspension of me being the Flash and to give me time to adjust my clothes so I don’t look like a ragamuffin to Iris.

 

Iris greets Barry with a big smile and her smile grows bigger as she notices both the bow-tie and the flowers. She wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Barry returns the gesture by wrapping his arms around her.

 

“Right on time. You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

 

”Of course not.”

 

“Shall we go in?” Iris says, prompting Barry to walk to the door and open it wide. Barry lifts his hand and waves it across his body as to say “After you.” Iris follows the command and walks into Carmine’s. The two join hands and walk to their favorite table. Moments pass and the waitress comes over to their table and sets two waters on the table.

 

“Do you know what you’re going to have tonight?” She asks as she takes out her pen and paper.

 

”She’ll have the chef’s salad with extra dressing, and I’ll have the spaghetti, extra spaghetti.””

 

“Alright, anything else?”

 

”No that’ll be it, thank you.”

 

“Alright, your food will be out soon.” The waitress smiles and turns to walk back to the back room. As she leaves, Iris pulls out a small box from her purse and shows it to Barry.

 

”What’s that?”

 

“A present.” Iris hands the box to Barry. He takes it from her and shakes it to see if he can hear anything in it.

 

”What is it?”

 

“Well open it and find out.” Iris says. Barry quickly opens the box and sees a dark red bow tie inside. He looks up at Iris with a puzzled face.

 

”But I…”

 

“It was your father’s, Barry. I found it in the attic with some of his old stuff. I also found a picture of your parents wedding. Your father had that tie on in the picture.” Barry sat in silence as he admired the bow-tie. He knew full and well that this was the tie his father wore in his parents wedding. Slowly, Barry got up from his seat and wiped away a stray tear from his cheek. Iris got up from her seat as well, and as she did so, Barry wrapped his arms around her gave her a big kiss. The two kept hugging for a while until the waitress came back to their table. She stood silently as to not disturb the moment. Barry looked over and noticed her standing there.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break up the moment.”

 

”Oh, it’s fine.” Barry and Iris sat back down as the waitress placed their food in front of them. She placed down the silver ware and walked off.

 

“Enjoy your dinner..."

This harlequin pair stuck close together while exploring.

I saw him standing in the doorway to a restaurant on Dundas St. in downtown Toronto with his longboard, chatting with a friend. Some strangers have a visual appeal that tweaks my photographic interest along with my desire to find out a bit about them. With his stylish hat and friendly features, he was one such stranger.

 

Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, I stood by, waiting to be noticed so I could introduce myself and my photo project, The Human Family. The couple’s conversation was friendly and didn’t look like it was going to end anytime soon. Every so often it would appear to be concluding, but then it would resume. I was starting to feel a bit awkward as if I was eavesdropping or lurking and thought perhaps I should move along. Just then the conversation came to an end and he turned toward me which allowed me to introduce myself. His smile told me he was approachable and happy to be part of my project. Meet Jay.

 

I explained that the best nearby location would be at the corner where a covered walkway provided shelter from the direct sun, a spot I have used before at the entrance to the university campus. I explained to his friend that we would need a few minutes and she agreed to look after his longboard. As we took the few steps to the corner, Jay explained that my interruption wasn’t unwelcome and that he has been approached for a photo before. I commented that he had a nice style about him so I wasn’t surprised he had been noticed by others.

 

I proceeded to take a few street portraits on the sidewalk, pausing between photos for pedestrians to pass by. While chatting, I learned that Jay was born and raised in Toronto and is 21 years old. He’s an Arts and Sciences student who hopes to complete his studies in Psychology. “Toward what goal?” I asked. He said he would like to work for the government in a national security capacity of some kind. Psychology would probably be a good background for that type of job. I asked about a necklace he was wearing that had a gold ring and a medallion and he smiled, explaining that it had to do with Lord of the Rings.

 

When I asked about challenges he has faced in life, Jay said “Growing up I have been stereotyped.” A bit of probing revealed that he was talking about being profiled because of race and the neighborhood he grew up in. This is an issue I have heard from others before and we talked a bit about the fact that moving forward in life can be hard enough without having that kind of extra hill to climb. Jay’s message was a related one. “Never give up and do your own thing. Don’t let others put you in a box.” Good advice, for sure. I was left with the feeling that this friendly young man was not going to be stopped from progressing toward his dreams.

 

We exchanged contact information and parted ways with thanks and a handshake. This is my 526th submission to The Human Family Group on Flickr.

 

You can view more street portraits and stories by visiting The Human Family.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

MANIFESTO GLEITZEIT 2015

BY STELLY RIESLING

Featured below is another original art work of mine in homage to THE PIONEER OF INVISIBLE ART — PAUL JAISINI. Forget all the copycats that came after him — Master Paul Jaisini was the *FIRST* of a totally original concept and the *BEST*. My favorite thing about him is that he’s a voice, not an echo, which is quite rare.

DISCLAIMER: This is for anyone who is a hater OR wishes to better understand me, what I’m all about, so you can decide whether I’m weird or normal enough for you — a kind of very loose manifesto, rushed and unrevised, full of raw uncut emotion that I don’t like to be evident in my writing as lately I prefer a more professional, formal style, so we can consider this a rough draft of the more polished writing to come when I have extra time. I might return to this text later and clean it up or break it into separate parts. Right now it’s a long-winded hot mess, so if you manage to make any sense of it, BIG PROPS TO YOU. lol …and if you manage to read it ALL, you have my solemn respect!!! in a day when reading has been reduced to just catchy headliners and short captions of images once in a while. The consequence of this one-liner internet culture is non-linear, tunnel thinking, which is baaaaaad.

There lives among us a most enigmatic and charismatic creature named Paul Jaisini who led me into the wonderful world of art, not personally, but through descriptions of his artworks in essays written and published online by his friend, which painted the most fascinating images in my mind. Early on as a kiddo, I experimented with photography, simple point and shoot whatever looked attractive to me. Digital manipulation of my photographs with computer software followed… and somehow I learned useful drawing techniques along the way to combine existing elements with nonexistent ones, which allowed me to elevate the context for my ideas. Later, I started creating my own digital art from scratch for my friends and family as a favorite pastime. They would shower me with praise and repeatedly encouraged me to share my “different” vision with the rest of the world… it took a while and wasn’t easy to overcome the insecurity of not being good enough along with a gripping fear of being harshly criticized, but one day I woman-ed up and started publishing my work on the web, reminding myself that my livelihood didn’t depend on a positive reception.

Paul Jaisini’s role in all this has been to not disgrace myself, even if what I do is just a hobby. And I would never do him and other genius artists the disservice of calling myself a professional because I know I’ll never be as good as any of the GIANTS of pre-modern history. Be the best or be nothing, no middle ground.

People’s jealousy in the past, future and present over my obsessive love of Paul Jaisini, which they are well aware is purely plutonic, has caused them to despise the man and has made many relationships/friendships impossible for me. I refuse to have such people in my life because by harboring any negativity towards Paul, they unknowingly feel that way about me and express it to me. It’s their own problem for not realizing this. Paul’s new art movement, Gleitzeit, shaped me into the allegedly awesome girl I am today, giving my art more edge, more “sexy” because it refined my vision of the world and propelled me to attain the skills necessary to not dishonor my family name through tenacious pursuit of perfection. Since the beginning of my life, I attempted to depict what I saw in visual, musical and literal forms, but continuously failed without adequate training and determination. Paul Jaisini’s Gleitzeit was the answer to my prayers. Who I am today I owe mostly to him and his selfless ideals of the artverse that I’ve given unconditional loyalty to (he has this cool ability for hyper-vision to see whole universes, not itty bitty worlds, hence I call it an artverse instead of art world, with him in mind). So again, anyone who hates Paul Jaisini hates ME because, regardless of what he means to you, he is the most important person in my life for making me ME. The way a famous actor, dancer or singer inspires others to act, dance or sing, Paul inspired me to become a better artist, better writer, better everything. More people would understand if he was a household name because they’re wired to in society. But we’re inspiring each other all the time in our own little communities without being famous, so if someone has the ability to change even ONE person’s life immensely with creativity, it is a massive achievement. And passionate folks like myself are compelled to scream it from the cyber rooftops. So here I am. It’s whatever.

Furthermore, I’d like to address here a few pressing matters in light of some recent drama brought on by both strangers and former friends. To start, I never judge the passions, interests or likes of others, which are often in my face all over the place, so likewise they have no right to judge any of mine. It is quite unfortunate and frustrating how very little understanding and education the majority of people have or want to have. Their logic is as primitive as a chipmunk when it comes to promotion of fine art on the web: “spamming, advertising, report!” It’s their own problem that they fail to understand what it’s about due to the distorted lens through which they see the world or inability to think for themselves; an inherent lack of perception or inquisitiveness. Well, guess what? Every single image, every animation, every video, every post dedicated to Mr. Paul Jaisini and “Gleitziet” (to elaborate: a revolutionary new art movement Paul founded with his partner in crime and personal friend, EYKG, who discovered him and believed in him more than anyone) has an important purpose. Every one of those things you run across is a piece of a puzzle, a move in a game, an inch down a rabbit hole; the deeper you go, the more interesting it gets; the more levels you pass, the more clues unfold, the greater the suspense and nearer the conclusion (yet further). You earn awesome rewards like enlightenment, spiritual revelations, truths, knowledge, wisdom and the most profound reward of all: the drive to improve yourself to the absolute maximum, so an unending, unshakable drive. People often make a wrong turn in this cyber game and go back a few levels or get stuck. Those that keep on pushing, however, will come to find the effort has been worth it. And what awaits you in the end of it all? The greatest challenge to beating the game: YOUR OWN MIND. You will be forced to let go of every belief you held before you had reached the last level, to completely alter your mindset and perception of the world, of life, of yourself. But by the time you’ve gotten to that point, it will be as easy as falling off a cliff! (It is a kind of suicide after all — death and rebirth of spirit.)

Paul Jaisini does NOT, *I repeat* does NOT use mystery and obscurity to his advantage as a clever marketing ploy, no, he’s too next level for that with a consciousness so rich, he should wear a radioactive warning sign (he’ll melt your brain, best wear a tinfoil hat in his presence as I certainly would.) The statement he makes is loud and clear, hidden in plain site for those who take the time to connect the dots and have enough curiosity to fuel their journey into unknown territory (an open mind and flexible perception helps a lot). Actually, anyone with an IQ above 90 is sure to figure it out sooner or later. Hint: You don’t have to SEE an extraordinary thing with your eyes to know it exists, to understand it and realize its greatness — you can only feel it in your bone marrow, your spinal fluid, your heart and soul. The moment you do figure it out, as the skeleton key of the human soul, it will unlock the greatness and massive potential buried deep within, changing the doomed direction humanity is undoubtedly headed. I don’t speak in riddles, I speak in a clear direct way that intelligent humans will understand, so I’m counting on them.

GIG is an international group of artists and writers that support Paul Jaisini’s Gleitzeit. We started off as an unofficial fan club of Jaisini in 1996, comprised of only 6 individuals spanning 3 countries, and eventually escalated in status to an official fan group across the entire globe. A decade later it had grown to hundreds of fans. Nearly another decade later, there are thousands. Let’s not leave out another delightful group of vicious haters that have been around for nearly as long as us since the late 90s and have also grown in impressive numbers. Now, for the record (and please write this one down because I’m sick of repeating myself), Paul Jaisini himself is not part of our group and has nothing to do with us. He loves and hates us equally for butchering his name and making him appear as a narcissistic nut-job in his own words. He casts hexes on us for the blinding flash we layer over the art that members contribute to GIG — “disgusting-police-lights, seizure-inducing-laser-lightshow, bourgeois-myspace-effects retarded-raver shit” in Paul’s words. Ahh, how we love his sweet-talking us. In a desperate attempt to please him, those among us who make the art and animations have spent countless hours and sleepless nights trying to solve a crazy-complex quantum-physics type of equation = how to not create tacky or tasteless content. He does fancy some of it now, we got better, that’s something! In the reason stated below, our mission just got out of hand at some point.

What little is known about Paul Jaisini, even in all this time, is he’s a horrible perfectionist who slaughtered hundreds of innocent babies — I mean — artworks of remarkable beauty created by his own right hand (mostly paintings, some watercolors and drawings). He’s a fierce recluse who wants nothing to do with anyone or anything in life. But those few of us who know of an incredible talent he possesses (one could go as far as calling it a superpower), could not allow him to live his life without the recognition he FUCKING DESERVES more than any artist out there living today and, arguably, yesterday. We use whatever means necessary to reach more people, lots of flash and razzle-dazzle to lure them into our sinister trap of a higher awareness. Mwahaha! The visual boom you’ve witnessed in both cyber and real worlds, that is GIG’s doing — two damn decades of spreading an art virus — IVA. InVisibleArtitis… or a drug as in Intravenous Art. It’s whatever you want it to be, honey.

Our Gleitzeit International Group (GIG) started off innocently enough and gradually spiraled out of control to fight the haters, annoying the hell out of them as much as humanly possible. They don’t like what we do? WE DO MORE AND MORE OF IT. But never without purpose, without a carefully executed plan in mind collectively. If we have to tolerate an endless tidal wave of everyone’s vomit — e.g., idiotic memes and comics; dumbed-down one-liner quotes; selfies; so-called “art photography” passed through one-click app filters; mindless scribbles or random splatters by regular folks who have the nerve to call themselves serious/pro artists; primitive images of pets, babies, landscapes, random objects, etc… then people sure as shit are gonna tolerate what we put out, our animated and non-animated visual art designed for our beloved master, Paul Jaisini, who has shown us the light, the right path to follow, taught us great things and done so much for us — and so in our appreciation of him, we stamp his name on everything, for the sacrifices he has made in the name of art, to save our art verse, he’s a goddamn hero. There’s a book being written in his dedication where little will be left to the imagination about him.

If Paul Jaisini was as famous as Koons or Hirst, for example, people would know it’s not him posting stuff online with his name on it but fans creating fanart like myself among others. But noooooo, such a thing is unfathomable to most people - the promotion of another artist. Like, what’s in it for us? Uhh, nothing?? This is all NON-PROFIT bitches, the way art should be. It’s a passion FIRST, a commodity/commercial product/marketable item LAST and least. Its been that way for us since the early 90s to this day. Not a single member of GIG has sold an art work (neither has Paul Jaisini who’s a true professional) and we want to keep it that way. We do it for reasons far beyond ego. So advertising? Really? How the hell do you advertise or sell thin air, you know, invisible paintings, invisible anything? Ha ha, very funny indeed. The idea here is so simple, your neighbor’s dog can grasp it. Our motives: replace fast food for the mind with fine art, actual fine art. You know, creativity? Conscious thought? Talent? Skill? Knowledge? All that good stuff rolled into one to bring viewers more than a momentary ooohand aaahh reaction. Replace the recycled images ad nauseum; repetitious, worn-out ideas; disposable, gimmicky, money-driven fast art for simpletons. Stick with the highest of ideals and save the whole bloody planet.

Fine art is often confused with craft-making. This often creates bad blood between classically trained artists who put out paintings that leave a lasting impression, that make strong conversation pieces, that are thought-provoking and deep… and trained craftspeople whose skills are adequate to create decorative pieces for homely environments — landscapes, still lifes, animals, pretty fairies, common things of fantasy, and other simplicity. Skills alone are not enough for high art, you need a vision, a purpose, the ability to tell a story with every stroke of your brush that will both fascinate and terrify the viewers, arousing powerful emotions, illuminating. I have yet to see a visible painting in my generation that does anything at all for me, other than evoke sheer outrage and disgust. What a terrible waste of space and valuable resources it all is.

Paul Jaisini leads, we follow. He wishes to remain unknown - so do most of us. I’m next in line, slipping into recluse mode, no longer wanting to attach my face, my human image to my art stuff. I wish to be a nameless, faceless artist as well, invisible like P.J., and in his footsteps I too have destroyed thousands of my own artistic photography and digital art made with tedious, labor-intensive handwork. The whole point of this destruction is achieving the finest results possible by letting go of the imperfect, purging it on a regular basis, to make way for the perfect. I love what I do so it doesn’t matter, I know I’ll keep producing as much as I’m discarding, keeping the balance. Hoarding is an enemy of progress, especially the digital kind as there’s absolutely no limit to it. It’s like carrying a load of bricks on your back you’ll never use or need.

The watering down of creativity that digital pack ratting has caused as observed over the years is most tragic. For the creative individual, relying on terabytes of stock photos or OSFAP as I call them (Once Size Fits All Photos) instead of making your own as you used to when you had no choice, being 100% original, is a splinter in the conscience. It’s not evil to use stock of, say, things you don’t have access to (outer space, deep sea, Antarctica, etc.), but many digital artists I know today can’t take their own shot of a pencil ‘cause they “ain’t got no time for that!” How did they have time before? Did time get so compressed in only a decade?

Ohhhhh, and the edits, textures, filters, plug-ins and what-have-you available out there to everyone and their cats… are responsible for the tidal wave of rubbish that eclipses the magnificent light of the real talents.

I can tell you with utmost sincerity there is no better feeling on earth than knowing your creation is ALL yours, every pixel and dot, from the first to the last. It’s not always possible to make it so, but definitely the most rewarding endeavor. I’m most proud of myself when I can accomplish that.

Back to Paul Jaisini, from the start there have been a number of theories floating around on what his real story is. One of my own theories is that he stands for the unknowns of the world who can’t get representation, can’t get exhibited at a decent gallery because highly gifted/trained artists aren’t good enough - those kind of establishments prefer bananas, balloon dogs, feces, gigantic dicks/cunts, and all kinds of what-the-fucks…

So again, you don’t get the Paul Jaisini thing? That’s your problem. Don’t hate others for getting it. People are good, very good, at making baseless assumptions and impulsively spewing it as truth. They criticize and judge as if they’re high authorities on the subject yet they clearly lack education in fine art or art history and possess little to no talent or skill to back up their bullshit. My little “credibility radar” never fails. When they say I know this or I know that, I reply don’t say “I know” or state things as fact as a general rule of thumb - instead say “I assume/believe” and state the reasons you feel thus to appear less immature, especially about a controversial topic like invisible art. I have zero respect or tolerance for egomaniacs who think they know it all and act accordingly like arrogant pricks. Who can stand those, right? Once again, a good example would be: I, Stelly Riesling, believe everything I’ve written in this little manifesto to be correct based on personal experience and observation from multiple angles, thorough research and sufficient data collected from verifiable sources (and don’t go copying-pasting my own words back at me, be original). Just because you or I say so doesn’t make it so. Just because you or me think or believe so doesn’t make it true or right. I only ask that my opinions are regarded respectfully and whoever opposes them does so in a mature, civilized manner. We should only be entitled to opinions that don’t bring out the worst in us.

I don’t normally take such a position, but the time has come to stand up for what I believe in! It’s quite amusing and comical how haters think calling me names, attacking me or my interests or members of the project I’m part of for years is going to change something. It only makes more evident the importance of what I’m doing so I push on harder still.

Words of advise to those who can identify with me, with my frustrations over people’s reluctance to change their miserable ways, with our declining art world…

DON’T waste time on people who sweat the small stuff, whose actions are consistently inconsistent with their words. DO waste time on people who always keep their eye on the ball—the bigger picture of life.

Paul Jaisini’s invisible paintings are more than hype, more than your lame assumptions. Here’s one I got that’s pure gold: a cult! It started out as A JOKE OF MINE that was used against me. I told a then-good friend that he should come join our little “art cult” in a clearly lighthearted manner, and later he takes this idea I put in his head first and accuses me of being in an (imaginary) cult—the jokes on me eh?. But wait, aren’t cults religious? Our group consists of people around the world of different faiths (or none at all) so how could that ever work? If religion was about making fine (non-pop) art mainstream and bringing awesome, fresh, futuristic concepts to the collective consciousness, the world would not be so fucked up today because talent, creativity, originality and individuality would be the main focus, not superficial poppycock; those things would be praised and encouraged and supported in society by all institutions, not demonized and stigmatized.

Here is one thing I CAN state as solid fact: only one person close to Paul Jaisini knows the TRUE story, or at least some of it: EYKG. Everything else that has ever been said about him is myth, legend, gossip, speculation, the worst of which is said by jealous non-artists (wannabes, clones, posers, hang-ons, unoriginal ppl in general) and anti-artists (religious psychos, squares, losers and -duh- stupid ppl). Sadly, people are unable to see the bigger picture by letting their egos run their lives or repeating after others as parrots.

Commercial art, consumerism, and ignorance of the masses truly makes me want to curl up in a ball, not eat or drink or move until I die, just die in my sleep while dreaming of a better world, a world where real fine artists rule it with real fine art as they used to and life is beautiful once again….

Well I hope that settled THAT for now, or perhaps inadvertently made matters worse. I hope I didn’t sound too pissed from all these issues that keep popping up like penises on ChatRoulette… just got to me already! Can you tell? I had to put my foot down, stomp ‘em all!

To be continued, still lots more ignorance and pettiness to battle… Till then peace out my bambini. MWAH!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

MANIFESTO GLEITZEIT 2015

PROLOGUE

Paul Jaisini was like a messiah, as you wish, who saw/understood the impending end and complete degeneration of Fine art or Art become and investment nothing more than that. He predicted the bubble pops art when everybody would eventually become an artist, including dogs cats and horses, because they as kids followed the main rule: express yourself without skills or knowledge or any aesthetic concerns. J. Pollack started pouring paints onto canvases; Julian Schnabel, former cab driver from NY, suddenly decided he could do better than what he saw displayed in galleries, so he started gluing dishes on canvases; A.Warhol, an industrial artist who made commercial silk-screen for the factories he worked in, started to exhibit "Campbell's soup" used for commercial adds... and later the thing that made him an "American Idol": by copying and pasting Hollywood celebrities (same type of posters he made before for movie theaters).

When Paul Jaisini stood out against the Me culture in the US by burning all of his own 120 brilliant paintings (according to the then-new director of Fort Worth MoMa Museum, who offered hin an exhibition of his art in 1992, and later the Metropolitan Museum curator, Phillippe de Montebello, in 1994).Paul probably assumed all fellow true fine artists would join him or stand by him against corruption of the art world.

And after 20 years of his stand-off...the time has finally come today. Many artists and humanitarians around the world took a place beside him. His invisible Paintings became a synonym for the future reincarnation of fine art and long lost harmony. The establishment is in panic! The "moneybags" (as Paul Jaisini named them) are in panic, because they invested BILLIONS of dollars in real crap made by craftsmen. Now they realize that the reputation of American legends of expressionism was nothing but a copy of Russian avant-garde" Kazimir Malevich, Vasiliy Kandinsky and tens of others from France and Germany.. US tycoon investors were spending billions on "Me more original, than you". "Artist Shit" is a 1061 artwork by the Italian artist Piero Manzoni. The work consists of 90 tin cans, filled with feces. A tin can was sold for £124,000, 180,000 at Sothebys, 2007.

EPILOGUE

Before I resume promoting and admiring a very important art persona on today's international art arena, I'd like to clear up some BIG questions; people ask continuously and subconsciously, directly & indirectly: "Why does the name Paul Jaisini, flood the Internet in such "obnoxious" quantities that it's started suppressing some other activities that my friends might share with the rest of the Internet's Ego Me only Me www society? I can't just answer this... so I'll try to explain why I'm writing this: Jaisini's followers keep posting art and info about,

He IMHO the only hope in quickly decomposing visual fine art. "Paul Jaisini realized many years ago, in 1994, when he declared (at that time to himself only) the start of a New era, a New vision, that he is trying to redirect from the rat race, started by an establishment in post-war New York, long before the Internet culture.

Sub related information: Adolf Gottlieb, Mart Rothko, etc (after visiting Paris France in 1933):

"We must forget analytical art, we must express ourselves, as a 5 year old child would, without a developed consciousness. Forget about results - do what you feel, EXPRESS yourself with your own unique style"

With this statement Mark Rothko starts to teach his students, degeneration of fine art begins, and the generation of war of styles took a start signal of the material race, greatly rewarded by establishment "individual" - eccentric craftsmen - show business clowns.

Sub related Information: In the summer of 1936, Adolf Gottlieb painted more than 800 paintings, which was 20X more than he created in his whole art career as a painter, starting from the time of Gottlieb becomes a founding member of "The Ten" group in NYC "Group of Ten" was a very peculiar, enigmatic group... Based on a religious point of view;(where a human figure was prohibited from being created)

GLOSSARY

IN 1997, Paul Jaisini's best friend Ellen Y.K.Gottlieb started a cyber campaign by promoting on a very young Internet, back then, Paul Jaisini's burned paintings as Invisible Paintings, visible only through poetic essays. She and a handful of people saw his originals and were devastated that nobody could ever see them again. "We, his fans, believe that someday Paul will recreate his 120 burned paintings if he has any decency and moral obligation to his fans, who have dedicated decades to make it happen, for their Phoenix to rise from the ashes and the whole world will witness that all these years we spent to get him back to re-paint the Visuals again were not in vain," - said E.Y.K.Gottlieb in 2014 during the 20th anniversary celebration of Invisible Paintings to GIGroup in NYCity. So now, hopefully, this clears up why I and others do what we do - our "cyber terrorism" of good art, dedicated to Paul Jaisini's return, which is & and was our mission & our goal. We post good art to fight "troll art" which is worthless pics, after being passed through 1-click filters of free web apps. We are, in fact, against this www pops pollution, done with "bubble art" by the out of control masses with 5 billon pics a day: Pics of cats, memes, quotes,national geographic sunsets and waterfalls, not counting their own daily "selfies: and whatever self-indulging Me-ego-Me affairs, sponsored happily by photo gadget companies like Canon, Nikon, Sony...who churn out higher quality madness tools at lower cost.

This way Government taking away attention from the real world crisis of lowest morality & economical devastation. The masses are too easily re-engineered/manipulated by the Establishment PopsStyle delivered to them by pop music and Hollywood "super" stars. In 1992 Paul Jaisini's Gleitzeit theory predict such a massive, pops self-entertain madness, following technological explosion, but not in illusive scales.

Uber Aless @2015 NYC USA

NOTE Date's numbers and events can be slightly inaccurate.

#gleitzeit #paul-jaisini #invisible #painting #art #futurism #art-news,

 

this is at an evening time

sabyblogforu.blogspot.ca/2013/06/44-she-him-belissima-mod...

saw him fixing the pipes outside the shops. came up to him asked him if i could take a photo and he was pretty cool about it.

@recess_ministry ift.tt/1QIpqPX recess_ministry

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Nat Ross was forced to dig his own grave in Auschwitz. A Death March almost killed him. He just turned 101.

 

The very act that saved Nat Ross in Auschwitz also almost killed him.

 

Nat was tasked with building a sewer system in Auschwitz. When he found scraps of potatoes nearby while working, he immediately hid them in his pants. Every week, the Nazis forced the Jewish prisoners to take off their clothing and throw it into a big pot of boiling water for disinfection. Nat tied the potato scraps into his pant leg and boiled the potatoes along with the clothing. These scraps sustained him.

 

Then the SS guards discovered his tactic.

 

They dragged him to the side and forced him to start digging his grave.

 

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“With a gun to my head, I dug and dug. I knew it was my last moment of life. I didn’t know what was on the other side, so I started praying. I didn’t just pray for myself, I prayed for all the people in my life, even my Christian friends.”

 

The Nazi guard demanded that he lay next to the grave to see if he would fit. When they determined that it wasn’t long enough, he was commanded to get up and keep digging.

 

The very moment he got up, another prisoner collapsed.

 

The guard looked at Nat and said, “Well, isn’t today your lucky day?”

  

He moved the dead prisoner into the grave intended for Nat.

 

Nat felt tremendous gratitude, while experiencing survivors’ guilt at the same time. Death surrounded him daily. He frequently saw prisoners committing suicide by throwing their bodies against the electric gate.

 

Nat felt he had a mission to live so that he could one day retell his story.

 

After years of torture, his will to survive waned. Word was getting out that the war was over. The Nazis collected prisoners from each camp and forced them to march in the winter snow with no shoes. Anyone who collapsed was killed.

 

The guards did not want to waste a bullet; instead of shooting, they stabbed prisoners with the back of their bayonet. They would use bullets “wisely”, killing three prisoners standing in a row with one bullet.

 

At one point during the death march, the SS guards stopped by a farm for a small break. Nat saw some haystacks but knew that if he dared to lay down, he’d be killed. He didn’t care. If they are going to kill me, let them kill me here, and he fell asleep. He woke up 17 hours later and everyone was gone.

  

Two other prisoners were hiding nearby. A local farmer saw the three men and snitched. A German soldier found Nat and took out his gun to kill him.

 

Nat screamed out the Jewish prayer, Shema Yisrael!

 

The German pulled the trigger, but the gun malfunctioned and Nat ran to safety.

 

In Auschwitz

Nat couldn’t find the emotional strength to share his story until later in life. Particularly difficult to recount is what happened to his mother.

 

When the train arrived to Auschwitz, his mother was taken from him. All he wanted to do was hold his mother and give her a kiss. Nat started crying as he recalled, “I can see her face in my mind. Right in front of me she was trying to grab me and I was as trying to grab her but I couldn’t reach.”

 

His mother and two sisters were killed immediately.

 

When he and his son, Jay, went back to Auschwitz, Jay wasn’t sure how his father would react.

 

“His mind became compartmentalized. He was emotionless but he knew exactly where his bunker was. He remembered every detail 70 years later.”

 

Nat was the only survivor on the tour and they treated him like a celebrity. He showed everyone the various sections of Auschwitz using his firsthand memories to guide the group.

 

He held it together at Auschwitz but later broke down by his grandfather’s grave when he was alone with his son.

 

The Nazis treated him like an animal, but Nat didn’t let others treatment determine his worth. He knew his worth came from God.

 

Nat still strongly believes in God. “I get up to pray every day. It gave me strength then and it gives me strength now.”

 

Despite his strong memories of Auschwitz and the nightmares he continues to have, he doesn’t hold hatred in his heart. Nat believes hatred comes from ignorance. “Schools aren’t teaching the Holocaust anymore! My beautiful granddaughter gave a speech to her class about the Holocaust and shared my story and not one person had heard of the Holocaust.”

  

Nat remembers and shares his story today so we won’t forget.

 

In honor of his 101 birthday, his whole family flew in to share this auspicious moment.

 

Strangers from around the globe sent cards and well wishes.

 

Mitch Edelstein, the executive director of the assisted living home where he lives said, “We had to close the phone lines for several hours because we were overwhelmed with the amount of people calling to wish him a happy birthday.”

 

“I felt so much love,” Nat said. “My heart was swelling and I was overwhelmed with joy.”

 

Some of the letters Nat received from around the world.

 

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More About The Author

 

Sarah Pachter

 

Sarah Pachter is a dynamic, motivational speaker who has lectured throughout the US and Israel. For the past thirteen years Sarah has passionately taught women of all ages and levels of Jewish observance, drawing in large crowds with her innovative and personal touch. In addition to lecturing for many organizations, schools, and synagogues, she is a Kallah teacher, dating coach, and mentor. Sarah runs growth groups in private homes and meets with individuals for one-on-one private sessions. Sarah has been featured on the Radio, is a regular columnist, and a freelance writer for the Jewish Press, Aish.com and the Jewish Home as well as many other publications. She has authored Small Choices Big Changes published by Targum Press. She currently resides in Los Angeles with her husband and five children. Her new book Is it Ever Enough? by Feldheim was just released.

Do you like sex? I love him here ...http://sexvdvoem.tk

He makes me giggle. He makes me feel good about me. He has character.

He is my joy.

John and I discuss how we can help him overcome his predicament and help him get back on his feet quite literally. He firmly believes that with refinement the devices he has been using already could become the ideal solution for this with the necessary improvements, namely comfort. I’m curious whether there is technology on board Mon-El’s ship that could be used to help improve these supports. Would certainly save John a potentially long and tedious process, I’ll need to ask him when I visit him later on tonight. In light of how he’s helped caused John’s paralysis I think this could help to ease any possible tensions between John and him.

 

Before I can think further on the matter though John points out the window as a searchlight quickly illuminates the neighboring building. It’s a block of office flats from what I can see, nothing special but it’s not what’s in the building that’s drawn all the attention. It’s the person stood on top of it standing over the edge looking as though she’s ready to jump.

 

“Oh my god she’s going to jump.”

 

I race to remove my clothes so I can try to stop her all the while I manage to listen in to a conversation she’s having on the telephone. It’s difficult to make out who she’s talking to, but judging from the voice on the end of the phone and how she’s talking I’d guess that it was her mother. Her mother is trying to talk her down clearly not wanting to lose her daughter as any mother would, I can hear her crying as she apologizes to her mother. She’s not planning on changing her mind. This blasted shirt, so many buttons I’ve got to hurry.

 

“They’ve said it’s probably terminal mom. I don’t want to put you and dad through this.”

 

“Just please stop! Don’t do this!”

 

I manage to get into my costume and race out of John’s office back up to the roof entrance of the building. Come on Clark you’ve got to do something before she makes that mistake.

 

“I love you two. Don’t ever think otherwise. That’s why I’ve got to do this.”

 

“Megan please…..!”

 

The voice coming from the phone falls silent as she lets go of her phone sending it plummeting to the ground. She’s about to jump Clark you’ve got to hurry up. I race out of the building and slowly fly over to her. The spotlight sees me and turns its attention to me causing the young woman to look at me. I choose a slow and cautious approach so she doesn’t accidentally jump out of shock. Fortunately she keeps her attention focused entirely on me so she doesn’t try to jump much to my own relief.

 

“Hello Megan.”

 

“You’re that Superman guy.”

 

“So I hear. Why are you all the way up here?”

 

I speak to her in soft and gentle tone to make her feel comfortable. Hopefully I can convince her to change her mind and not make the greatest mistake of her life.

 

“Because…”

 

“Because?”

 

“I’m dying.”

 

"What from?”

 

Playing dumb often helps to comfort people. She’s already freaked out by my appearance and by the sight of seeing me floating in the air, the increase in her heartbeat rate tells me that. Not knowing what’s going through her mind I choose to keep my other powers under wraps so she won’t turn me away.

 

“I found a lump……. two days ago…...”

 

“A lump?”

 

“Yeah…….”

 

“It’s not…”

 

“Yep.”

 

“What stage?”

 

“They wouldn’t say, but they think it’s terminal.”

 

“That’s why you’re up here isn't it?”

 

“Yeah. I don’t want to put those I care about through it all.”

 

“But you’re doing it now.”

 

She looks down at the ground as I say that. She knows that she’s putting those closest to her through and it’s what she wants to prevent. I slowly move toward her with my arms outstretched to show my intentions to help her. It works somewhat. She takes a step back from the ledge.

 

“I just……don’t want them to see me dying like that.”

 

“They don’t want you to take your life either.”

 

“I have no choice. At least this way they don’t have to see me suffer.”

 

She steps forward back on the ledge. Come on Clark you’re losing her.

 

“That sounds more like you don’t want to go through the suffering rather than wanting to spare your family the pain.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“No. I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t want those closest to me to suffer either. They mean the world to me, and I know they mean the world to you as well.”

 

A tear drops down her left cheek, clearly something has resonated with her thank goodness. I take this moment to scan her body and check this cancerous lump. To my relief it appears to be benign. Thank goodness.

 

“You’re going to be alright Megan. You’re going to live a brilliant life. But only if you take two steps back.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because I know you’re going to beat this thing. I promise.”

 

“But what if I can’t? What if it is terminal?”

 

“You’re much stronger than you think your are. You will beat this.”

 

She looks down at the pavement for a moment before looking back up at me. I hold my hand out to her hoping that she’ll grab hold of it.

 

“Trust me.”

 

There is a long moment of silence and I begin to worry about what she’s going to do. To my relief though she grabs hold of my hand. I fly towards her and she wraps both her arms around me. I do the same as she squeezes me tightly. She didn’t want to jump. I knew it.

 

The spotlight remains focused on the pair of us as I hear applause from the crowd down at on the pavement. I did it. Oh my god I did it.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No. Thank you.”

 

After two minutes with her arms wrapped around me she chooses to release her grip and looks out over Metropolis. The cityscape is lit up in a variety of lovely colors highlighting the beauty of this wonderful city. Megan appears entranced by the view.

 

“Is this what you see everyday?”

 

“Yes, and so much more.”

 

“It’s beautiful.”

 

“It sure is.”

 

“Thank you. For stopping me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

 

I put my right arm over her right shoulder and she rests her head on my arm. As she rests her head on me I smile relieved with how things have turned out both tonight and in the two weeks since I first put on this cape.

 

“Anytime.”

 

It’s been a funny two weeks. I’ve met my uncle, Mon-El, and learnt who I am and where I came from. I’ve managed to get myself a job at Daily Planet and been on the front page twice in the space of a fortnight. I’ve made some wonderful friends like Lois and John and most important to me, I’ve been able to help so many people here in Metropolis. Ever since I first set my parents barn alight with my heat vision when I was four I’ve been afraid of who I am and what I can do. But today, stood here right now having stopped Megan from taking her own life I finally understand why I was sent here. Pa always said I was sent here for a reason, Mon claims I was sent here by my father to spare me from Krypton’s fate, but I like to think that it was for something else. As far as I’m concerned I was sent here to help those in need, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.

 

My name is Clark Kent. I’m a reporter for the Daily Planet newspaper. I’m also an alien from the planet Krypton, but you probably know me by a different name.

 

I’m Superman, and I’m here to help.

 

END OF VOLUME 1

--------------------------------------

So after a stop start release schedule I finally finished the first volume of Superman much to my own relief. I felt this was the perfect way to end the first volume of my Superman story because it so perfectly defines Superman. He's an alien with godlike powers, but at his core he's human and I feel this scene is the perfect of example of it. He doesn't use his powers to save this woman's life. He uses his humanity, his most powerful weapon and I feel that's something that often gets overlooked by many.

 

Superman will return in Volume 2 'When Worlds Collide'.

K bít tên của a này.. nhưng ảnh về a này thì tớ cũng có kha khá..

Mí pạn girl HQ gọi a này = cụm từ j ấy " những anh chàng có khuôn mặt đzai" =))

 

P.s: Tớ bị sốt nên k rep cm nhanh đc.. thông cảm nha.. Fave nếu thíc nhé.. :x

 

Photo taken by Manfred Kaffine and kindly provided by him for inclusion on this page.

  

München-Riem

1976-11-04 (4 November 1976)

 

N7201U

Boeing 720-022

17907 / 85

McCulloch International Airlines

(leased to Peter Frampton for the Frampton Comes Alive tour)

 

"Starship 1" is heading to runway 25 for take-off, with Peter Frampton on board.

 

Information from thisdayinaviation:

23 November 1959: The first Boeing 720 airliner, a 720-022, registered as N7201U, made its first flight at Renton, Washington. The 720 was a development of the 707 and no prototype was built. N7201U was used by Boeing for flight testing and was then delivered to United Airlines, 1 October 1960. The airline named the new 720 Jet Mainliner Capt. F. M. Crismore. Over the next two years, United acquired 29 Boeing 720s.

 

N7201U was sold to Contemporary Entertainment, owned by singer Bobby Sherman and his manager, Ward Sylvester, in January 1973. It was repainted in a gold and black livery and christened The Starship. As a VIP transport, it was used by such rock bands as Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, The Rolling Stones, Alice Cooper and Elton John. It was last chartered by Peter Frampton.

 

N7201U was withdrawn from service in 1977 and after being stored for several years, was broken up at Luton Airport near London, England, in 1982.

 

More information from powerpop.blog:

powerpop.blog/2019/10/20/the-starship-airplane-n7201u/

 

Registration details for this airframe:

www.planelogger.com/Aircraft/Registration/N7201U/489855

 

N7201U with Boeing ca. 1959:

www.flickr.com/photos/sdasmarchives/48087091531

 

N7201U with United at SFO in 1967:

www.flickr.com/photos/34076827@N00/7859006658

 

N7201U with Contemporary Entertainment at LAX in September 1973:

www.flickr.com/photos/52810288@N05/6278533701

 

N7201U with MCA Records/Elton John at BFI in October 1974:

www.flickr.com/photos/138175399@N04/24801088856

 

N7201U with (leased to Gary Wright) at LGB in April 1978:

www.flickr.com/photos/52810288@N05/6884060820/in

 

N7201U with AeroAmerica at SHN in September 1978:

www.flickr.com/photos/shanair/11816014964

 

N7201U tail-less at LTN in May 1982:

www.flickr.com/photos/132337785@N03/21930853508

  

Scan from Kodak medium format (6 x 6 cm) slide (cropped to 3:2 aspect ratio).

iPhone 4 + hipstamatic

The full video is available on YouTube via link.

studio.youtube.com/video/fRXAQvsD5d4/edit/basic

Text revised and up-dated on 27 Dec 2022.

 

McKinney’s Old (GNRI) Railway Bridge

The Great Northern Railway (Ireland) (GNR(I) or GNRI) was an Irish gauge (1,600mm - 5'- 3") railway company in Ireland. It was formed in 1876 by a merger of the Irish North Western Railway (INW|), Northern Railway of Ireland, and Ulster Railway. The governments of Ireland and Northern Ireland jointly nationalised the company in 1953, however the company was liquidated in 1958.

The Great Northern Railway (GNR) which ran from Omagh to L/Derry crossed the island of Island More (Corkan) via two metal railway bridges. The 'Red Bridge' which is located

to the North of the island at Glenfad near Porthall and is still accessible but predominately used by the farming community and the river bed aggregate extraction company while the bridge onto Island More to the South was demolished by the British Army during the Northern Ireland 'Troubles' as where many small cross-border unapproved) roads.

Known locally as 'McKinney's Bridge' it crosses the River Foyle which forms the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland, hence the reason why the bridge was demolished and is now unusable as a crossing point.

 

Anthony Freire Marreco (b.26th Aug 1915 d.4th June 2006, aged 90)

When growing up, I knew Islandmore or Corkan Island as 'Marreco's Island', named after Anthony Freire Marreco who was a British barrister and who had maintained a georgian

house at Porthall, near Lifford, Co. Donegal, on the banks of the River Foyle overlooking the island.

 

Anthony Blechynden Freire Marreco was born in Leiston, Suffolk, England on 26th Aug 1915 where his father's regiment was stationed at the time. The only son of Geoffrey Algernon Freire Marreco (b.25 Feb 1882 d.15 Sept 1969) of The Old Court House, St Mawes, Cornwall and his wife, nee Hilda, Gwendoline Beaufoy Francis (b.1 Dec 1887 d.9th June 1967) from Hampshire. Both parents are buried at St. Lucadius Church of Ireland, Clonleigh Parish, Lifford, Co. Donegal, Ireland.

 

The Freire Marreco’s were of Portuguese origin; Antonio Joaquim Freire Marreco (b.1787 d.1850), Anthony's great-grandfather was an interesting fellow. Born in Penafiel in

Northern Portugal he left for Brazil in 1808, together with King João VI and the Portuguese Court, who fled the invading Napoleonic troops and settled in Rio de Janeiro.

In 1820, the King returned to Portugal and Marreco returned with him. Antonio established himself in business in England in the early 1820s as a wine importer and in July 1834 married Anna “Annie” Laura Harrison (born in 1806) of Newcastle, the daughter of his English business partner, William Harrison, at St. Botulph's Church, Aldgate in London. He became a naturalised British subject. Freire was the original Portuguese surname, Marreco was added by the grandfather after a trip to Brazil were at that time it was popular to add the names of flowers and bird, Marreco being a type of duck.

Geoffrey, Anthony’s father worked for Richard Garrett & Sons a manufacturer of agricultural machinery, steam engines and trolleybuses, the factory was located in Leiston, Suffolk, England being founded by Richard Garrett in 1778.

 

Education

Anthony initially attended a private school, Allen House in Woking (founded in 1871), before attending the Royal College of St Peter's, Westminster from 1929 to 1934 where his lifelong interest in human rights began. His headmaster, Dr. Crossley-White had invited leading personalities of the day to dinner. At the age of 17, Marreco met his childhood hero, T.E. Lawrence (b.1888 d.1935) and also Mahātmā Ghandi (b.1869 d.1948).

 

Stage Career

In 1934 he joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA), but was expelled after being spotted by the principal's wife at the Epsom Downs Derby, when he should have been attending classes. From 1935 to 1937, he began a career on the stage, playing in Shakespeare and forming friendships with figures such as Noel Coward (b.1899 d.1973) and

Johnny Weismuller (b.1904 d.1984). He joined Northampton Repertory and was stage manager at Crewe Repertory and later the London shows at His Majesty's Theatre, Daly's

Theatre, the Arts Theatre and the Theatre Royal.

 

Military Career

In 1940 he joined Royal Navy as a rating, Commission, Sub-Lieutenant (A) Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve R.N.V.R. and when the Admiralty learned that he had a pilot's licence,

Certificate No:14851 issued on 24 April 1937 by the Great Britain, Royal Aero Club Aviators at Airwork School of Flying, Heston Airport, Hounslow, Middlesex, which was taken

using an Avro Club Cadet Gipsy Major 130. He was later commissioned to fly a Fairey Swordfish (a biplane torpedo bomber). He received his wings on 6th October 1940 and was

appointed to train observers at R.N.A.S. Arbroath in Scotland.

 

In 1941 he was temporarily released from Naval duties on appointment, as Assistant Counsel to the legal department of the Industrial Export Council and was later promoted to

Lieutenant. In the same year he was appointed to the Royal Naval Air Service (R.N.A.S.) at Yeovilton in Somerset as Instructor, Fighter Direction School.

 

In January 1942 Marreco was appointed Fleet Fighter Direction Officer, Staff Commander-in-Chief, H.M.S. King George V (41) the flagship of both the British Home Fleet and

Pacific Fleets. In May 1941, along with HMS Rodney, King George V was involved in the hunt and pursuit of the German battleship Bismarck, eventually inflicting severe battle

damage which led to her being scuttled in the North Atlantic on 27 May 1941.

 

In April, Marreco was lent to US Carrier Wasp as Flight Deck Officer (FDO) to fly Spitfires off to Malta and in June 1942 was appointed to the Naval Night Fighter Development Unit.

 

In June 1943 he was appointed Flight Deck Officer (FDO) on an American built 'Attacker class' Escort Aircraft Carrier, which took part in “Operation Avalanche”, the codename for the Allied landings near the port of Salerno which was executed on 9 September 1943, part of the Allied invasion of Italy.

In December 1943 he was appointed Flight Deck Officer (FDO) of the American built Aircraft Carrier, USS Pybus (CVE-34) which was renamed Emperor (D98) by the Royal Navy.

 

In January 1944 he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and appointed Flight Deck Officer (FDO) Aircraft Carrier Formidable (67), which was involved in Operation Mascot, an

unsuccessful air raid against the German battleship Tirpitz at her anchorage in Kaafjord, Norway, on 17 July 1944. The attack was one of a series of strikes against the battleship, launched from british aircraft carriers between April and August 1944. Tirpitz, was eventually sank during Operation Catechism on 12 November 1944 off Håkøy Island near Tromsø, Norway.

 

Formidable was subsequently assigned to the British Pacific Fleet (BPF) in 1945 where she played a supporting role during the Battle of Okinawa, codenamed Operation Iceberg

where the Allies assembled the most powerful naval force in history. Formidable. later attacked targets in the Japanese Home Islands. She was hit twice by kamikaze aircraft

on the 4th and 9th of May. In both instances, she was saved by her armoured deck and was able return to flight operations rapidly. The ship was used to repatriate liberated Allied prisoners of war and soldiers after the Japanese surrender and then ferried British personnel across the globe through 1946.

 

Later in June 1945 Marreco was discharged for passage to the UK to take up an appointment at the Admiralty as advisor on Kamikaze suicide fighters during the pending final assault on Japan. He left his ship and flew to Sydney, Australia and as Senior Naval Officer, he boarded an old P&O liner call the 'Randi' which requisitioned by the Admiralty on 27 August 1939 and converted on 23 October 1939 to an armed merchant cruiser to carrying Japanese prisoners of war back to Southampton. Marreco, as part of his job aboard,

describes the trip, "I had to get up at 5.00am and bury my brother's and sister's who had not survived the night”.

 

In 1946, Marreco was demobilised and return to civvy street, he soon accepted an offer to attend the Nuremburg War Crimes Tribunal as part of the British delegation where he

spent a number of months. During October 1946 he was appointed Chief Assistant to Deputy Chairman, Government Sub-Committee (Control Commission) for Berlin and later in April 1947 was appointed Director of the same.

 

In October 1947 was appointed British member, Directorate of Internal Affairs and Communications; Chief Staff Officer to Political Adviser to Military Governor. During December 1948 he resigned from the Control Commission.

 

Legal Career

Having passed his first Bar Examination in 1938, he was called to the Bar (Inner Temple) in 1941 during his absence on war service. He continued his law studies and took his Bar Finals at Twatt on a remote island in the Orkneys, invigilated by a chief petty officer. He was later a pupil of the distinguished Irish lawyer Brian McKenna in Walter Monckton's chambers in the Temple located at 2, Paper Buildings, London. Marreco never returned to the Bar, and instead went on to become a human-rights advocate, helping co-found Amnesty International.

 

Publishing & Banking

In the 1950s he was a director of Weidenfeld & Nicolson, established 1949, a British publisher of fiction and reference books. He also worked as an investment banker for SG

Warburg & Co founded in 1946 by Siegmund Warburg (b.1902 d.1982) and Henry Grunfeld (b.1904 d.1999).

 

Olympic Games – Germany 1936

Anthony received an invitation from Otto Christian von Bismarck (b.1987 d.1976) who was counsellor at the German Embassy in London (1929 to 1937) to attend the 1936 Summer

Olympic games in Germany as part of an official party. On attendance with some others were, John Beverley Nichols (b.1898 d.1983) English author, playwright, journalist,

composer, and public speaker and Mangal Heppeelipol (New Zealander) there was a mix up with their seats and it looked like they would not get in, however a German SS officer

frantically beckoned them upstairs to some fine seats. Minutes later Adolf Hitler, Hermann Göring and Joseph Goebbels along with their respective wives arrived and took up their seats directly in front. The party was in the charge of Ernst Hanfstaengl (b.1887 d.1975), nicknamed "Putzi", who was a German-American businessman and became an

intimate friend and confidant of Adolf Hitler who enjoyed listening to "Putzi" play the piano. Hitler was the godfather of Hanfstaengl's son Egon (b.1921 d.2007).

Marreco witnessed the display of fury that Hitler showed when Jessie Owens (b.1913 d.1980) won the 100 meters (Owens won four gold medals, the long jump, 100 meters, 200 meters and 4 × 100m relay). Marreco also remarked how Helene Bertha Amalie “Leni” Riefenstahl (b.902 d.2003) who was a German film director, actress and Nazi sympathizer

jumped up with her camera and filmed Hitler from every conceivable angle every time he spoke. She was commissioned by the German Olympic Committee for $7 million to film the Games and directed the Nazi propaganda films “Triumph des Willens” (Triumph of the Will) and “Olympia” (video documentary of the games). Both movies are widely considered to be the most effective, and technically innovative, propaganda films ever made. Adolf Hitler was in close collaboration with Riefenstahl during the production of at least three important Nazi films during which they formed a friendly relationship. Some have suggested that Riefenstahl's visions were essential in the carrying out of the Holocaust?

 

Nuremberg War Crimes Tribunal (1945 to 1949)

Marreco takes up the story. "I had returned from the Navy and I was back in my London chambers when one day in March 1946 after coming out of the dining hall of the Inner

Temple, about three months into the trial, Hartley Shawcross (b.1902 d.2003), the Attorney-General, (he was a sailing acquaintance of my father), fell into step beside me and

he said, "Good to see you Marreco, how are getting on? I’m fine”, and then he asked, "Would you like to go to Nuremberg?" Marreco replied, “Give me 24 hours”, I went back to my chambers and discussed the proposition with my colleagues who advised me to go. He arrived in Germany, just as U.S. Chief of Counsel, Robert Houghwout Jason

(b.1892 d.1954) was cross-examining Hermann Göring (18 March 1946). Marreco was briefed by the head of the British team, Sir David Maxwell Fyfe (b.1900 d.1967), 1st Earl of

Kilmuir.

 

Members of the British Prosecuting Counsel at Nuremberg included: Chief Prosecutor: Attorney General Sir Hartley Shawcross, Deputy Chief Prosecutor: Rt. Hon. Sir David Maxwell Fyfe, Leading Council: Mr. Geoffrey ('Khaki') Dorling Roberts (b.1886 d.1967), Junior Council: Major J. Harcourt Barrington (b.1907 d.1973), Major Frederick Elwyn Jones

(b.1909 d.1989), Mr Edward George G Robey (b.1900 d.1983), Lieut Col. John Mervyn Griffith-Jones (b.1909 d.1979), Colonel Henry Josceline Phillimore (b.1910 d.1974), Mr. Airey

Middleton Sheffield Neave (b.1916 d.1979), Sir Clement Raphael Freud (b.1924 d.2009) & Peter John Ambrose Calvocoressi (b.1912 d.2010).

 

In all, six organisations, including the SS, the Gestapo and the high command of the German army were also accused. 199 defendants were tried, 161 were convicted and 37 were

sentenced to death, including 12 of those tried by the International Military Tribunal (IMT).

 

From March to Sept 1946 Marreco was Junior Counsel of the British Delegation, his first task was to join a subsidiary tribunal to sort out the witnesses, convened under Airey

Neave who was the first British officer to escape from Colditz Castle on 12 May 1942. The defence called more than 400 witnesses. Marreco was present when they made their

depositions and cross-examined them on behalf of the prosecution. He also describes how he helped draft the trials' forensic closing speech delivered by the head of the

British team, Sir Hartley Shawcross.

 

Marreco recalls, "In the six months I was in Nuremberg, I got to know each of the Nazi defendants, and with one notable exception, I never liked any of them. Particularly, Joachim von Ribbentrop, the former ambassador to Britain who sat ashen-faced and was the most unpalatable character. Wilhelm Frick (Reich Minister of the Interior) was a horrible little man, Walther Funk (Reich Minister for Economic Affairs) was another dirty little shit”. He loathed Rudolf Höss, the commandant of Auschwitz whom he vividly remembered being "brought into the courtroom clanking in chains" and who paced up and down, giving the impression of a madman. But with Hermann Göring, Hitler's number two, there was something about his attitude and the way he took charge of all the defendants that was, for me, totally compelling."Göring, who sangfroid throughout the judicial process and on one occasion when a particularly attractive military wren was standing next to the dock, Göring reached out and pinched her bottom. "She was so incensed and complained to the judge, but Göring knew he was going to die and he didn't care".

Britain’s legal team was tiny compared with the 300-plus American one, but Maxwell Fyfe told Marreco that the American's had got bogged down because the German defence counsel had surprisingly called more than 400 witnesses, many of them SS guards who had previously been at the extermination camps of Auschwitz and Belsen.

 

The International Military Tribunal (IMT) announces it's verdicts on November 1946. It imposed the death sentence on 12 defendants, Hermann Göring, Joachim von Ribbentrop,

Wilhelm Keitel, Ernst Kaltenbrunner, Alfred Rosenberg, Hans Frank, Wilhelm Frick, Julius Streicher, Fritz Sauckel, Alfred Jodl, Arthur Seyss-Inquart, and Martin Bormann.

3 are sentenced to life imprisonment, Rudolf Hess, Walther Funk and Erich Raeder. The only one of them to serve their entire life in prison was Rudolf Hess who died on 17 Aug 1987, he was found strangled to death in a cabin in the exercise yard at Spandau Prison, Berlin. Apparently, he choked himself to death with an electrical cord. Some suspected foul play.

4 receive prison terms ranging from 10 to 20 years, Karl Dönitz, Baldur von Schirach, Albert Speer, and Konstantin von Neurath. The court acquits 3 defendants: Hjalmar Schacht (Economics Minister), Franz von Papen (German politician who played an important role in Hitler's appointment as chancellor), and Hans Fritzsche (head of Press and Radio).

The death sentences were carried out on 16 October 1946, with two exceptions: Hermann Göring committed suicide shortly before his scheduled execution, and Martin Bormann,

who was sentensed but was absent during the trial. The other 10 defendants were hanged, their bodies cremated at Ostfriedhof, Munich, and their ashes deposited in the Iser

River.

 

Video - Nuremberg Executions 1946 - What Happened to the Bodies? (Mark Felton Productions)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=At7IA19fXHc&ab_channel=MarkFe...

Video - Joachim von Ribbentrop (Mark Felton Productions)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-q6pdTyE0Q&ab_channel=MarkFe...

Video - Hermann Göring's Mysterious Death (Mark Felton Productions)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=2IMhFW7539s&ab_channel=MarkFe...

Hermann Göring's Special Train - Exclusive New Footage (Mark Felton Productions)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMc3Kw9aNEs&ab_channel=MarkFe...

Video - Rudolf Hess: The Last Prisoner of Spandau (Mark Felton Productions)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9lM-aaCHJU&ab_channel=MarkFe...

Video - The hanging of Rudolf Höss at Auschwitz (Alan Heath)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3C4njP5J2o&ab_channel

 

Post in Germany

As Chief Staff Officer to the Political Adviser to the British Military Government of Germany, and as British Member of the Directorate of International Affairs and Communications, Allied Control Authority, Berlin, from 1946 to 1949, Marreco assisted in the creation of new democratic and legal institutions in Germany.

 

Political Career

Marreco contested Wells in Somerset as a Liberal candidate in the 23 February 1950 general election obtaining 9,771 votes however, he was unsuccessful being beaten by the

Conservative representative Dennis Boles (b.1885 d.1958) with 20,613 votes. Again, in Goole in the West Riding of Yorkshire in the 25 October 1951 general election he obtained 17,073 votes being beaten by the Labour representative George Jeger (b.1903 d.1971) with 26,088 votes.

 

Amnesty International

In 1960 Flora Solomon (b.1895 d.1984), his neighbour in Shepherd Street, told Marreco that her son, Peter Benenson (b.1921 d.2005) was founding an organisation which was

later to become Amnesty International. Marreco, who had twice stood as a Liberal candidate for Parliament, supported him vigorously.

 

In 1968 he became Honorary Treasurer and had set up an Amnesty International Development Inc. (AID Inc.) in 1970 in the United States, which was totally separate from Amnesty

International and which could send funds to families of Greek prisoners. This was strongly opposed by Amnesty International USA. Outspoken in all his opinions, Marreco

conducted several investigations for Amnesty, notably during the regime of the Greek Colonels, when he went to Athens to interview Stylianos Pattakos (b.1912 d.2016), one of the Junta leaders of 1967 to 1974, about allegations of torture and the curtailing of civil liberties.

 

In 1971, Marreco investigated allegations of torture by British troops in Northern Ireland and subsequently resigned. Amnesty, he said, "refused to go to Belfast and even see these people", he added that "it was also a bizarre circumstance" that Amnesty's chairman, Sean MacBride (b.1904 d.1988), was the leader of Clann na Poblachta (Irish

republican political party) from 1946 to 1965 and was a former Chief of Staff of the IRA from 1936 to 1939. He also implied that he had received treats from the IRA when living at Porthall, County Donegal.

 

Mayfair Residents Association

For 13 years he was chairman of the Residents Association of Mayfair (RAM), steering it through turbulent times when it was opposed by the Association of Residents of Mayfair (ARM). When the two merged in 2004 he was appointed Honorary Present of the Residents’ Society of Mayfair and St James’s. He resigned on 13 January 2004. He was also a member

of the Royal Institute of International Affairs and of the Garrick Theatre, the Royal Thames Yacht Club and the Beefsteak Club. He was also a Director of Aldbourne Craft Trust

from 4 August 2000 until he resigned on 4 June 2006.

 

Institute of International Criminal Law

In 1983 he proposed setting up an Institute of International Criminal Law, to be established in association with the Irish Universities. He offered Port Hall to the Irish government as a study centre, where "the hideous violations of human rights, which had disfigured the 20th century" could be researched. His ambition was to set up a television archive of the Nuremberg Trials to be used by lawyers and peace researchers from all over the world. The Institute never came to fruition, possibly because Marreco also remained energetically committed to sorting out the legal and domestic problems of the Mayfair intelligentsia.

 

In his last years Marreco retired to Greenhill Bank Cottage, Aldbourne, in Wiltshire, with his wife, Gina, who was a brilliant hostess and an unforgettable cook.

 

Relationships

Anthony Marreco was married four times, but to only three women and had numerous affairs with other women but he had no children.

 

Lady Ursula Isabel Manners (b.1916 d.2017)

Lady Ursula Isabel Manners was born 8th November 1916, being the elder daughter of five children of John Manners, (b.1886 d.1940) 9th Duke of Rutland, by his wife the former

Kathleen Tennant (b.1894 d.1989, aged 95). As a 20-year-old she acted as one of Queen Elizabeth's trainbearers in Westminster Abbey and received international media attention after a photograph of her from the coronation on 12 May 1937, standing alongside the British royal family on the balcony of Buckingham Palace which was circulated in the news.

The reports, focused on her beauty and distinctive widow's peak, leading to her being nicknamed "the cygnet" by Winston Churchill while she accompanied the king and queen on a 5-day royal tour to France in 1938.

 

On 25 July 1943, Lady Ursula married Anthony Marreco in the chapel at Belvoir Castle, Grantham, Leicestershire, a man she barely knew and who threatened to commit suicide if

she refused to do so. The swiftness in which a wedding was organised prompted the minister to place a chair for her to sit on at the altar as he assumed, she was pregnant, this, she admitted, had infuriated her. Marreco left her to serve in the British Armed Forces in Asia and lost communication with her until 1946. During this time she had entered into a brief relationship with Man Singh II (b.1912 d.1970), the Maharaja of Jaipur, whom she met through her friend Jawaharlal Nehru (b.1889 d.1964). Lady Ursula and Marreco divorced in 1948.

 

Lady Ursula resumed her maiden name, and married secondly on 22 Nov 1951, Robert Erland Nicolai d'Abo (b.1911 d.1970), the elder son of Gerard Louis d'Abo (b.1884 d.1962), by whom

she had two sons and a daughter. In 2014 she published her memoir titled “The Girl with the Widow's Peak: The Memoirs”.

 

Lady Ursula died on 2 November 2017, aged 100, she was one of the last surviving aristocrats to have participated at the Coronation of King George VI & Queen Elizabeth on 12 May 1937.

 

Louise de Vilmorin (b.1902 d.1969)

Marreco also became involved with Louise de Vilmorin through the late 1940s until 1951 who was a French novelist, poet and journalist. Born in the family château at Verrières-le-Buisson, Essonne, a suburb southwest of Paris, she was heir to the fortune of the great French seed company, that of 'Vilmorin'. (The 4th largest seed company in the world).

Louise was the younger daughter of Philippe de Vilmorin (b.1872 d.1917) by his wife Berthe Marie Mélanie de Gaufridy de Dortan (b.1876 d.1937)

 

From a child, she was afflicted with a slight limp, the result of Tuberculosis of the hip, however she compensated for her frailty with a flamboyant personality. She was a spellbinding talker who craved the limelight that she once flung a butterball to the ceiling when another guest at a dinner party wouldn’t allow her to tell a story.

 

De Vilmorin was never wholly sure of Marreco's devotion, as in Venice, in July 1950 her doubts were realised when Marreco went in successful pursuit of the somewhat unstable

Queen Alexandra of Yugoslavia (b.1921 d.1993), who had fellen madly in love with him and who then took an overdose of sleeping pills and slipped into a coma, but recovered

after two days, allegedly after de Vilmorin removed him to Sélestat in France at the end of the holiday.

 

De Vilmorin's diaries are peppered with references to him. She was much taken by his style of dress, on one occasion a shirt with narrow blue and white stripes, a black silk tie with white spots, a black jacket and waistcoat, spongebag trousers, and black leather ankle boots. When he went out, he perched his bowler hat at a rakish angle, and carried a furled umbrella. Above all, she was impressed by Marreco's adonis-like looks, impressed that he could return from a fashionable ball at six in the morning, neither drunk nor tired, but invigorated with life, talking of beautiful women, fortune, society and success. "Beauty likes to shine, to dazzle," wrote de Vilmorin, "and above all to be recognised!" She was deeply saddened when he left her in New Year in 1951, conscious that she was 13 years his senior and that his career might place demands on him that would take him away from her. These concerns were replicated as Marreco at this time had political aspirations.

 

Again, De Vilmorin's fears were realised while she was staying with Paul-Louis Weiller (b.1893 d.1993), at his villa, La Reine Jeanne, with Marreco in tow. She awoke one morning and found him gone. He had set off to Brazil in pursuit of Lali Horstmann, whose book had recently been published to great acclaim.

Vilmorin's first husband was an American real-estate heir, Henry Leigh Hunt (b.1886 d.1972), the only son of Leigh S. J. Hunt (b.1855 d.1933), a businessman who once owned

much of Las Vegas, Nevada and his wife, Jessie Nobel (b.c.1862 d.1960). They married in c.1925, moved to Las Vegas, and divorced in the 1930s. They had three daughters,

Jessie, Alexandra, and Helena.

Her second husband was Count Paul Pálffy ab Erdöd (b.1890 d.1968), a much-married Austrian-born Hungarian playboy, who had been second husband to the Hungarian countess better known as Etti Plesch (b.1914 d.2003), owner of two Epsom Derby winners. Palffy married Louise as his 5th wife in 1938, but the couple soon divorced.

Vilmorin was the mistress of another of Etti Plesch's husbands, Count [Maria Thomas] Paul Esterházy de Galántha (b.1901 d.1964), who left his wife in 1942 for Vilmorin. They

never married. For a number of years, she was the mistress of Duff Cooper (b.1890 d.1954), British ambassador to France.

 

Louise spent the last years of her life as the companion of the French Cultural Affairs Minister and author André Malraux (b.1901 d.1976), calling herself "Marilyn Malraux". She died on 26 Dec 1969 aged 67 and is buried in Verrières-le-Buisson (Essonne) cemetery also the initial resting place of André Malraux.

 

Léonie (Lally or Lali) Horstmann (b.1898 d.1954)

While serving in Germany, Marreco, then aged 36, became the lover of Lali Horstmann, who came from a distinguished German banking family, the von Schwabachs, her father was

the banker and historian Paul von Schwabach (b.1867 d.1938) and her mother Eleonor (Elli) Schröder (b.1869 d1942). Lali was the widow of Alfred (Freddy) Horstmann (b.1979 d.1947) who was a retired diplomat, art collector and later the head of the English department at the German Foreign Office. Freddy resigned his diplomatic duties in 1933, the year Hitler came to power, rather than work for the Nazis.

As Germany collapsed in the face of the allied invasion, the Horstmann’s decided, against the trend of fleeing from the Russian advance, by staying at their Kerzendorf estate,

East of Berlin, an elegant eighteenth-century house which contained numberous antiquities, had a small park, avenues, statues and a garden. The house was destroyed one night

by allied bombers and the Horstmann's moved into the agent's little house in the park.

At first, the Horstmann's were able to anaesthetise themselves from the worst excesses through their wealth and possessions, but soon the valuable objets sought by Russian

soldiers ran out as they lived in constant fear of rape and pilliage. One day in March 1946, Freddy was taken away by the Russian Secret Police for questioning about his

diplomat duties, stating, "It is now Saturday, six o'clock, you will probably be back tomorrow at the same time, Tuesday at the latest."

Almost, two and a half years later, August 1948 at Berlin station, Lali was told that Freddy had died of starvation in a Russian concentration camp, (No.7 Sachsenhausen,

Oranienburg, Germany, which was only a few miles from their home) a year after his arrest and that he was buried at the edge of the camp with many of his companions. Others

had survived, a few had been released for no apparent reason, many of them were still, and are now, in captivity. My husband, like all the others, had never been questioned

or tried. He had never been given any opportunity to defend himself.

 

Lali later wrote a moving account of her search for him, 'Nothing for Tears' (1953), which has been described as "one of the most remarkable personal documents to come out of

Germany at the end of 2nd World War". Marreco's relationship ended in Berlin, but they remained friends, both in Berlin and later when Lali moved to London.

 

They met again in 1954 in Brazil only when Lali made her first trip to Brazil to meet friends who had settled in Paraná in the south of the country. Lali asked Anthony to drive her from Rio to Paraná. They stopped overnight in São Paulo, where Lali was found the following morning, unconscious in her hotel room, having suffered a massive heart attack. She was rushed to hospital where she died the next day, aged 56. Lali Horstmann was buried in São Paulo. Marreco inherited part of her substantial fortune, derived from her ownership of real estate in Berlin and her late husband's family publishing buisness, the newspaper the 'Frankfurter General-Anzeiger', which was published in Frankfurt from 1876 to 1943 under various names. As a result of this Marreco bought Port Hall in Lifford, Co Donegal in 1956 where he lived and farmed until 1983 when he sold the house as his money was running out.

 

Loelia, Duchess of Westminster (b.1902 d.1993)

Marrero was subsequently the lover of Lady Loelia Mary Lindsay of Dowhill, Duchess of Westminster who was a British peeress, needlewoman and magazine editor. Loelia was the

only daughter of the courtier Sir Frederick Ponsonby (b.1867 d.1935), later 1st Baron Sysonby, and Lady Victoria Lily (Kennard) Sysonby (b.1874 d.1955), the well-known cook

book author. Loelia spent her early years at St James's Palace in London, Park House at Sandringham and Birkhall in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. As one of the "Bright Young

People", she met the twice divorced Hugh Grosvenor (b.1879 d.1953), 2nd Duke of Westminster. They were married on 20 February 1930 in a blaze of publicity, with Winston Churchill as the best man, but were unable to have children. Her marriage to the enormously wealthy peer failed and was dissolved in 1947 after years of separation.

 

Loelia's private diaries were likewise filled with anxious questions as to Marrero's love and loyalty. She encouraged Marrero to invest in Weidenfeld & Nicolson, and for some

years in the 1950s he was a financial supporter of George Weidenfeld (b.1919 d.2016).

 

Lindsay's 2nd marriage, to the divorced explorer Sir Martin Lindsay (b.1905 d.1981), 1st Baronet. The couple were married on 1st August 1969. Sir Martin, a devoted husband, died in 1981, and Lady Lindsay chose to spend her last years in nursing homes. Her memoirs, written in 1961 and titled 'Grace and Favour: The Memoirs of Loelia, Duchess of Westminster', a significant record of aristocratic life between the First and Second World Wars.

 

Regina de Souza Coelho (b.1927 - ?)

In 1954 Marreco went to Brazil for S G Warburg and while in Brazil he met Regina (Gina) de Souza Coelho, only daughter of Dr. Roberto and Roberto de Souza Coelho of Rio de

Janeiro. Marreco, consummated his second marriage with Gina on 19th November 1955, but the marriage was dissolved in 1961.

Anthony and Gina resumed their relationship in 1990, buying a cottage in Aldbourne, Wiltshire in 1997 and re-marrying in 2004. Very little is known about Regina.

 

Anne Wignall (née Acland-Troyte) b.1912 d.1982

Daughter of Major Herbert Acland-Troyte (b.1882 d.1943) and Marjorie Florence Pym (b.1891 d.1977). Anne was born in Kensington, London and had previously been married to the

5th Lord Ebury, Rennie Hoare (b.1901, d.1981), and also Lt-Col Frederick Wignall (b.1906 d.1956)

 

Anne first married, Robert Egerton Grosvenor (b.1914 d.1957), 5th Baron Ebury, son of Francis Egerton Grosvenor (b.1883 d.1932), 4th Baron Ebury and Mary Adela Glasson

(b.1883 d.1960), on 1 July 1933. She and Robert were divorced in 1941. Anne & Robert had two sons:

1. Francis Egerton Grosvenor, 8th Earl of Wilton (b.8th Feb 1934)

2. Hon. Robert Victor Grosvenor (b.1936 d.1993)

A keen racing driver, Lord Ebury died in an accident at Prescott, Gloucestershire on 5 May 1957, aged 43, while driving a Jaguar C-type - XKC 046 (Registration MVC630). He

was cremated at Oxford Crematorium, where there is a plaque to him and his 3rd wife Sheila, who died in 2010.

 

Anne's 2nd marriage on 23 December 1941 was to, Henry Peregrine Rennie Hoare (b.1901 d.1981) son of Henry Hoare (b.1866 d.1956) and Lady Geraldine Mariana Hervey

(b.1869 d.1955). Anne and Henry were divorced in 1947.

 

Anne's 3rd marriage on 13 November 1947 was to Lt.Col. Frederick Edwin Barton Wignall (b.1906 d.1956). He gained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel in The Life Guards and died

9 November 1956 and was buried in the churchyard of St Michael and All Angels, Poulton, Gloucestershire.

 

Anne's 4th marriage on 25 September 1961 was to Anthony Freire Marreco (his 3rd marriage) and as Anne Marreco she was the biographer of “Constance Markievicz - The Rebel

Countess” (1967). She changed her name back to Wignall by deed poll in 1969 and died on 23 June 1982 in Tiverton, Devon and was buried in the churchyard at All Saints Church,

Huntsham, close to her father's ancestral seat, Huntsham Court.

 

Port Hall House

At Port Hall Marreco bred a fine herd of Charolais cattle and was immediately accepted by that flamboyant section of Irish society known as "The Donegal Group". Anthony was a

convivial host, a considerable raconteur, his hospitality was legendary being a generous host at Port Hall, with it's spacious library and hand-painted wallpaper and at his summer house parties in Greece and in his book-lined flat in Shepherd Market in Mayfair in London.

His many guests ranged from Henry MacIlhenny (b.1910 d.1986), millionaire owner of Glenveagh Castle, Co. Donegal to historian R.B McDowell (b.1913 d.2011), who for 13 years

(1956 to 1969) was dean of discipline at Trinity College, Dublin and once castigated future President Mary Robinson.

 

Port Hall house was owned by Anthony Marreco from 1956 until 1983. He had a strong interest in building conservation and carefully repaired and conserved Port Hall during the

1960s. This important building is one of the most significant elements of the built heritage of Donegal, and forms the centrepiece of a group of related structures along with

the warehouses to the rear, the walled garden to the south, and the other surviving elements of the site.

Port Hall House was built in 1746 on the banks of the River Foyle, for Judge John Vaughan (b.1603 d.1674) also of Buncrana Castle, who served as a Grand Juror for County

Donegal which was based at Lifford a short distance to the south-south-west of Port Hall. The house design is attributed to Michael Priestley (d.23 September 1777), an architect who was also responsible for the designs of the county court house and gaol (Old Courthouse) in Lifford’s Diamond (were John Half-Hung MacNaghten was held), Strabane Canal, Prehen House on the outskirts of Derry City and possibly First Presbyterian Church in Magazine Street, Derry City.

 

Marreco strenuously opposed salmon poaching, then running at a value of £1 million of fish a year. He became chairman of the Foyle Fisheries Commission (now known as the ‘Loughs Agency’) and immersed himself in every aspect of Ireland's cultural and political life. In the last year of his life, he had wished to make his own documentary, The Rule of Law, tracing the development of international law from the time of Grotius, the 17th century philosopher, to the present day.

 

Anthony Freire Marreco died on 4th June 2006 aged 90 years and was buried in the graveyard of St. Michael's Church, Aldbourne, Wiltshire, England. Donations were requested for

the RSPCA.

 

A video interview with Anthony Marreco recalling moments from his life at aged 82 is available on YouTube via link.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR3BaWVwqHc&t=481s

 

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- February 5th: during the feast of Saint Agatha, on Via Etnea, you encounter people and situations of a unique sweetness and charm; the nice lady thus protects her little friend, preventing him from getting hurt, in the midst of the large crowd of people attending the feast;

 

- giorno 05 febbraio: durante la festa di Sant’Agata, in via Etnea, si incontrano persone e situazioni, di una dolcezza e simpatia uniche; la simpatica signora in tal modo protegge il suo piccolo amico, impedendo di farsi male, in mezzo alla grande folla di persone, che partecipa alla festa;

 

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or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;

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oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;

 

www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...

 

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Religious devotion, at times, in Sicily seems to take on the face of women, like that of the two Sicilian saints Agata and Lucia along the Ionian coast of Sicily, or the face of Rosalia, on the opposite side, in Palermo. The lives of Saint Agatha and Saint Lucia are closely linked, even though they never met. Agatha was martyred in 251, Lucia was not yet born, she was born 32 years later. On February 5, 301, she went to Catania to pray at Agatha's tomb to invoke her intercession, hoping to obtain the healing of her mother, who was seriously ill. Agatha appeared to her in a dream, confirmed her mother's healing (her mother was healed), but also confided in her that she would be martyred because of her faith in Christ: Lucia was martyred on December 13, 304, during the persecutions of Diocletian. What has been said as an incipit of the photographic story that I present here, created on the occasion of the celebration that Catania dedicates to its Patron Saint Agatha, described as the most important religious celebration in Catania, also considered the third Catholic religious celebration in the world (first are the “Semana Santa” in Seville, and the “Corpus Domini” in Cuzco in Peru), a ranking that takes into account the huge number of people who participate every year. The celebration of Saint Agatha takes place on several dates, from 3 to 6 February, on 12 February and on 17 August: the February celebration is linked to her martyrdom, the August celebration commemorates the return to Catania of her mortal remains, initially taken to Constantinople as spoils of war by the Byzantine general Maniaces, and remained there for 86 years. The young Agatha lived in the 3rd century, she belonged to a rich patrician family of Catania, since she was young she had embraced the cult of the Christian religion, the governor Quinziano (or Quintiliano) fell in love with her, Agatha to escape him hid in his house in Palermo, Quinziano managed to find out where she was hiding, so he had her taken to Catania, here his attempts to bend Agatha's will and make her give in to his flattery were in vain, after her umpteenth refusal he changed his intentions, accused her of being of the Christian religion, condemned her to death, not without first having led her to martyrdom, he amputated her by tearing off both her breasts, in this way in addition to the torment of physical pain, the psychological one was added, humiliating the girl in her femininity, then he gave her death by dragging her on burning coals, Agata was 20 years old. After her death, the cult of her began to spread, even the pagans began to venerate her figure, there is news about her origins starting from 252, the year after her death: the inhabitants of Catania were proud of this young woman who rebelled against the will of the dictator. The feast of Saint Agatha begins on February 3, there is the procession "for the offering of wax", the two eighteenth-century carriages of the senate pulled by horses come out along the streets of the city, "the candlestick" make their appearance; on February 4th the celebration begins with the “Mass of Dawn” which is celebrated in the cathedral, after the reliquary bust of the Saint and the silver casket, they are placed on the “float” (or “fercolo”), to be carried in procession in its “external tour”, the procession begins by crossing the “Porta Uzeda” and thus reaching the arches of the marina, the procession then circumscribes the historic center of the city, going to the places where Agatha’s martyrdom took place; : On February 5th the “Pontifical Mass” is celebrated, on this occasion by lining up in the cathedral, you can go and see the reliquary bust of the Saint, as evening comes, the bust and the casket are placed back on the heavy float for the last procession, which goes along the “internal tour” (or “noble tour”), which crosses the historic center of Catania, a procession preceded by the passage of lit candles carried on the shoulders of devotees (of various weights and sizes, some reach exceptional dimensions and weight, historically these candles illuminated, when electricity did not exist, the passage of the Saint), then the “candlestick” pass, they are gigantic and heavy wooden “candlestick”, in baroque style, painted in gold, each one represents an ancient corporation (butchers, fishmongers, bakers, pork butchers, greengrocers, etc.), finally the float with Saint Agatha passes, the long-awaited moment, with the reliquary bust that it contains inside some parts of her body, the other parts of her body are inside the casket, so, with both on the float, Agatha's entire body can travel the streets of the city of Catania. The float is pulled by hand, by the many devotees who wish to participate spontaneously in this very particular rite, using two large cords more than 200 meters long, to the end of which are connected four handles. The photographs were taken on February 4 and 5, of this year 2026, they are not organized in series taking into account either the year or the days; I made portraits of the devotees, the "citizens" (synonym of "devotees") of Catania towards this young martyr, who has become a symbol of those who oppose violence against women, and protector of women suffering from breast cancer. I captured in some images, the custom of some devotees, to carry with them images of loved ones who passed away too soon (photos placed on candles or printed on the characteristic white habit, called "sacco (bag) ", which is part of the characteristic way of dressing of the devotees). Finally, I conclude with some brief observations on this traditional religious and popular feast, year 2026:

a- This year, during the "outer tour" or "plebeian tour," it rained. I don't recall photographing the Saint Agatha procession in the rain in past years, but the presence of umbrellas was a pleasant surprise for me.

b- Devotees carry candles on their shoulders, sometimes very heavy, weighing 50 kilos or even more than 100-120 kilos. These enormous candles are padded with foam rubber, placed by the devotees themselves, to prevent excessive pain when touching the shoulder carrying them.

c- Devotees carrying very heavy candles, flameless or with a burning candle, rely on the presence of another devotee, who, anticipating the procession, warns those present of the arrival of "a heavy load." This is to avoid accidents along the way, both for those on the road and for the bearer himself. Sometimes, the assistant devotee supports part of the weight of the candle itself.

d- Aware of the risk of people slipping in the streets after the devotees pass by with burning candles, releasing a considerable amount of melted wax onto the ground, on the afternoon of February 5th, before the ritual of lighting the large candles begins, the municipality of Catania sprinkles Catania's main street, Via Etnea, first with water from tankers and then immediately after with sawdust, which, mixing with the water, prevents it from being lifted into the air by the wind (risking irritation to the airways and eyes);

e- As the float of Saint Agatha passes by, countless smartphones are now raised in the air, to take with them, almost every present, a memento of "this beautiful magic." I couldn't resist the temptation to "seize upon" this modern-day custom, also because I'm fascinated by the well-groomed female hands;

f- although I have not respected the temporal presentation of the photographs, I will insert a small comment in the caption, with the day during which it was taken, whether the 4th (during the “plebeian tour” or “external tour”), or if during the 5th (“day of the “internal tour” or “noble tour”).

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La devozione religiosa, a volte, in Sicilia sembra assumere il volto delle donne, come quello delle due sante siciliane Agata e Lucia lungo la fascia Ionica della costa sicula, od il volto di Rosalia, sul versante opposto, in quel di Palermo. Le vite di Agata e Lucia sono tra loro legate in maniera strettamente indissolubile, pur non essendosi mai conosciute, Agata morì martirizzata nel 251, Lucia non era ancora nata, nascerà 32 anni dopo, il 5 febbraio del 301 si recherà a Catania a pregare sul sepolcro di Agata per invocare la sua intercessione sperando così di ottenere la guarigione di sua madre, gravemente malata, Agata le appare in sogno, le conferma la guarigione di sua madre (sua madre ebbe la guarigione), ma anche, le confida, che per lei ci sarà il martirio a causa della sua fede in Cristo: Lucia fu martirizzata il 13 dicembre del 304, durante le persecuzioni di Diocleziano. Quanto detto come incipit del racconto fotografico che qui presento, realizzato in occasione della festa che Catania dedica alla sua Santa Patrona Agata, descritta come la più importante festa religiosa di Catania, considerata anche la terza festa religiosa cattolica al mondo (prime la “Semana Santa” di Siviglia, ed il “Corpus Domini” di Cuzco in Perù), graduatoria che tiene conto del grandissimo numero di persone ogni anno vi partecipano. La festa di Santa’Agata si svolge in più date, dal 3 al 6 febbraio, il 12 febbraio ed il 17 agosto: la ricorrenza di febbraio è legata al suo martirio, quella di Agosto rievoca il ritorno a Catania delle sue spoglie mortali, portate inizialmente a Costantinopoli come bottino di guerra dal generale bizantino Maniace, e li rimaste per 86 anni. La giovane Agata visse nel 3° secolo, apparteneva ad una ricca famiglia patrizia di Catania, sin dalla giovane età aveva abbracciato il culto per la religione cristiana, di lei si invaghì il governatore Quinziano (o Quintiliano), Agata per sfuggirgli si nascose in una sua casa a Palermo, Quinziano riuscì a sapere dove si nascondeva, quindi la fece condurre a Catania, qui i suoi tentativi di piegare la volontà di Agata e farla cedere alle sue lusinghe furono vani, all’ennesimo suo rifiuto egli mutò i suoi propositi, la accusò di essere di religione cristiana, la condannò a morte, non senza averla prima condotta al martirio, le amputò strappandole entrambi i seni, in tal modo oltre allo strazio del dolore fisico, si aggiungeva quello psicologico, umiliando la ragazza nella sua femminilità, poi le diede la morte trascinandola sui carboni ardenti, Agata aveva 20 anni. Dopo la sua morte si iniziò a diffondere il culto verso di lei, anche i pagani iniziarono a venerare la sua figura, si hanno notizie sulle sue origini già a partire dal 252, anno successivo alla sua morte: gli abitanti di Catania erano orgogliosi di questa giovane donna che si ribellò al volere del dittatore. La festa per Sant’Agata inizia il 3 febbraio, si ha la processione “per l’offerta della cera”, escono lungo le vie della città le due settecentesche carrozze del senato trainate da cavalli, fanno la loro comparsa “le candelore”; il 4 febbraio la festa inizia con la “Messa dell’Aurora” che si celebra nella cattedrale, dopo il busto reliquiario della Santa e lo scrigno d’argento, vengono messi sulla “vara” (o “fercolo”), per essere portati in processione nel suo “giro esterno” (o “giro plebeo”), la processione inizia attraversando la "Porta Uzeda" e giungendo così agli archi della marina, la processione quindi circoscrive il centro storico della città, recandosi nei luoghi ove avvenne il martirio di Agata; il 5 febbraio si celebra la “Messa Pontificale”, in questa occasione mettendosi in fila nella cattedrale, si può andare a vedere il busto reliquiario della Santa, col sopraggiungere della sera, busto e scrigno, vengono nuovamente messi sulla pesante vara per l’ultima processione, che percorre il “giro interno” (o “giro nobile”), che attraversa il centro storico di Catania, processione preceduta dal passaggio dei ceri accesi portati in spalla dai devoti (di vario peso e dimensioni, alcuni raggiungono dimensioni e peso eccezionali, storicamente questi ceri illuminavano, quando non esisteva l’energia elettrica, il passaggio della Santa), poi passano le “candelore”, sono dei giganteschi e pesanti "candelabri" in legno, in stile barocco, dipinti in oro, portati in spalla, ognuna rappresenta una antica corporazione (macellai, pescivendoli, panettieri, pizzicagnoli, fruttivendoli, ecc.), infine passa la vara con Sant’Agata, il momento tanto atteso, col busto reliquiario che racchiude al suo interno alcune parti del suo corpo, le altre parti del corpo si trovano all’interno dello scrigno, in tal modo, con entrambi sulla vara, tutto il corpo di Agata può percorrere le strade della città di Catania. La vara è trainata a mano con due grosse funi, dai tantissimi devoti che desiderano partecipare spontaneamente a questo rito così particolare, le due grosse funi sono lunghe più di 200 metri (una posta alla destra della vara, l’altra posta alla sua sinistra), al cui capo sono collegate quattro maniglie. Le fotografie sono state realizzate il 4 ed il 5 febbraio di quest’anno 2026, esse non sono organizzate in serie tenendo conto né dell’anno, nè delle giornate; ho realizzato ritratti dei devoti, dei “cittadini” (sinonimo di “devoti”) catanesi (e non) tutti legati “ed innamorati” di questa giovane martire, diventata simbolo di chi si oppone alla violenza sulle donne, e protettrice delle donne ammalate di cancro al seno. Ho colto in alcune immagini, l’usanza di alcuni devoti, di recare con se immagini di persone care scomparse troppo presto (foto messe sui ceri o stampate sul caratteristico saio bianco, chiamato “sacco”, che fa parte del modo caratteristico di vestire dei devoti). Infine, termino, con alcune osservazioni “in pillole” di questa festa tradizionale religiosa e popolare, anno 2026:

a- quest’ anno durante il “giro esterno” o “giro plebeo” è arrivata la pioggia, non ricordo di aver fotografato negli anni passati la processione di Sant’Agata sotto la pioggia, per me la presenza degli ombrelli è stata una piacevole novità;

b- i devoti portano in spalla ceri a volte molto pesanti, di 50 chili ma anche più di 100 – 120 chili, questi enormi ceri presentano delle imbottiture con gomma spugna, posizionate dagli stessi devoti, per evitare che il contatto con la spalla che li regge, diventi eccessivamente doloroso;

c- i devoti (o le devote) che portano in spalla ceri molto pesanti, senza fiamma, o con il cero che arde, si avvalgono della presenza di un altro devoto o devota, che anticipandone il passaggio, avvisa i presenti dell’arrivo “di un carico importante”, questo per evitare incidenti durante il percorso, sia per gli astanti, sia per il portatore stesso; a volte l’aiuto devoto regge parte del peso del cero stesso;

d- consapevole del rischio di scivoloni nelle strade, da parte delle persone, dopo che sono passati i devoti coi ceri che ardono, liberando un notevole quantitativo di cera sciolta per terra, il pomeriggio del 5 febbraio, prima che inizi il rito dell’accensione dei grossi ceri, il comune di Catania cosparge la via principale di Catania, via Etnea, prima con l’acqua delle autobotti, subito dopo con della segatura, che amalgamandosi con l’acqua impedisce alla stessa di venire sollevata in aria col vento (rischiando di irritare le vie aeree e gli occhi);

e- al passaggio della vara di Sant’Agata, oramai innumerevoli sono gli smartphone sollevati in aria, per portare con se, quasi ogni presente, un ricordo di “questa bellissima magia”, non ho saputo sottrarmi alla tentazione di “cogliere al volo” questa consuetudine dei nostri tempi, anche perché affascinato dalle mani femminili, così ben curate;

f- pur non avendo rispettato temporalmente la presentazione delle fotografie, inserirò in didascalia un piccolo commento, col giorno durante il quale è stata colta, se il 4 (durante il “giro plebeo” o “giro esterno”), o se durante il 5 (giorno del “giro interno” o “giro nobile”).

 

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