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St Michael, Sutton, Cambridgeshire
In memory of Lt Col LO Graeme CMG 1st QO Cameron Highlanders, Killed in Action 10.3.1916
Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence Oliphant Graeme CMG was killed in action at Loos on the 10th March 1916 when in command of the 1st Battalion of the Queens Own Cameron Highlanders. He was 43 years old. He had served in the South African War, and was mentioned in despatches three times. He was the son of Lt. Col. L. A. M. Graeme, of the House of Inchbrakie (1st Madras Fusiliers), and Catherine Glas Sandeman, and the husband of Penelope Graeme (née Hopkinson), of Sutton Grange, Wansford, Peterborough.
Variously Sutton-by-Castor, Sutton-cum-Upton and Sutton-in-the-Soke to differentiate it from other nearby Suttons, although locals presumably call it plain old Sutton. I caught the 0600 from Ipswich, an easy thing to do now the mornings are lighter, and arrived at Peterborough soon after 0730. I cycled out on the Green Wheel, the network of cycleways in and around the city, through lovely woodland beside the Nene Valley Railway for about five miles until I got to Castor. Peterborough is very much a typical Cambridgeshire town or city in brick, and so to emerge from the woods into a stone-built landscape made it feel, as before, that I had left East Anglia through the back door.
Here it was I saw my first red kite of the day, gliding low over the adjacent trees. They are such inquisitive birds, not shy at all, so very unlike buzzards. I decided to count how many I saw on this trip, and it was a total of 23, by far the most I've ever seen. I resisted Castor's lovely church (in my Cambridgeshire top five) and headed on through Ailsworth and into Sutton. I visited the church here last May, but it was at the end of a long day and on that occasion I didn't bother to go for the key. This time I did, disturbing the very cheerful keyholder as she had her breakfast. Incidentally, the sign on the church door says that it is 'usually open in Summer' - well, after two visits it would seem that May does not count as summer around here, or possibly I was simply too early at 0830.
Last time I was here I'd come from enjoying the intriguing charms of the remote and obscure church at Upton, a couple of miles to the north. I took back the key and descended by a narrow lane to the A47, which took me by surprise. I was halfway around the roundabout before I realised I was on it, and then off the other side and down into the tiny village of Sutton.
Not to be confused with the large village of Sutton that straddles the ridge to the west of Ely, this is Sutton in the Soke rather than Sutton in the Isle. 'A charming small village between the A47 and the Nene' says Pevsner, but in reality I didn't think it was any more charming than any other village I'd visited so far today, and less so than some. It was convoluted and maze-like however, and it took me a while to find the church, and I only did so with the help of a friendly young East European man who was taking his fierce attack dog for a walk. I assumed he was keeping it and training it for a time when Britain votes to leave the EU and the local UKIP stormtrooper old ladies come and give him a disapproving tut. He couldn't give me directions with his hands as he was restraining it from killing me - it was howling like a banshee and throwing itself at me at the end of the short chain he had it collared on, and although it was muzzled I had no doubt that if it attacked me it could have knocked me down and trampled me to death - but thanks to his help I eventually I found the church.
Another towerless church, but convoluted in an interesting way with a chancel aisle. It took me a moment to work out which end was which. As I say, on that occasion I didn't go for the key. Time was getting on, I wanted to visit one remaining church and catch the 1750 back to Ipswich (it is annoying that there is only a two-hourly service on this route, though an hourly one is planned). Pevsner got excited about the chancel arch, but beyond that there didn't seem to be any excitements that I couldn't put off to another day.
But now another day had come. So I stepped down into this small church, the chancel offset to the north. They've converted the nave into a village hall, but the chancel is jewel-like, especially in this early morning early summer light from the east. The Norman chancel arch, common enough around here where there doesn't seem to have been much money about in the later middle ages, has interlaced strapwork on the capitals with one looming face grinning out at you, the straps emerging from his mouth like an early green man. I liked the church and was glad I'd gone inside.
I took back the key, and asked a jolly lady walking her dog if I was on the right route for the footpath across to the Wansford railway bridge. Actually, I knew I was, but I wanted to make sure that the footpath shown on my OS map still existed, and also what condition I might find it in. The problem with exploring Northamptonshire from Peterborough is that there are only two crossings of the river between Peterborough and Stamford. One is the A1(M) and the other is the dualled A47, and as you may imagine neither is suitable for a bike. So it meant taking advantage of one of the foot crossings, but I wondered what state they might be in after the long, wet winter.
She said it definitely existed, but it was boggy and marshy and I probably wouldn't get across without wet feet. Fortunately, this turned out not to be the case, and although I had to lift my bike over a stile and push it for about half a mile, it turned out to be a pleasant fifteen minute walk along the bank of the Nene around a field of cows with extraordinarily long horns. They were guarding their calves, and I was glad that the track didn't force me to go through the middle of them. As well as a footway, the bridge carries the Nene Valley Railway from its main base at Wansford station over the Nene and then for six miles straight into the middle of Peterborough, a happy arrangement for a heritage railway. It always seems to be packed whenever I see it.
As I walked, I thought about what a lazy river the Nene is, so languid and drifting. Unlike the Ouse, which always seems to be busy, in a hurry with somewhere to get to. I reached the bridge, hauled my bike across and headed north on the old Great North Road, the noise from the motorway to the west horrendous after the peace of the water meadows. At Stibbington, a road took me across the motorway and then up, up, up to the Elton to Wansford road on the ridge. Once again I turned north to Wansford, reaching the posh southern part, 'Wansford in England', and I crossed back over the Nene again on the medieval bridge. The northern part of Wansford was in Northamptonshire until the 1890s, then became part of the Soke of Peterborough until 1965 when it was assimilated into Huntingdonshire before becoming, in 1974, part of the new Cambridgeshire. It is so remote from the bureaucrats at County Hall in Cambridge that I shouldn't think they even knew it existed, but fortunately for them in 1998 it became part of the Peterborough unitary authority, still ceremonially a part of Cambridgeshire but governed from the nearer city.
I cycled past Wansford church, resisting the temptation to go inside and see the wonderful font again, turned off on a side road and before I even left the urban area a sign welcomed me to Northamptonshire proper.
Now, I don't like to moan, as you know. But when I was younger, the Northamptonshire signs used to say 'Welcome to Northamptonshire, Rose of the Shires', which I think was a lovely thing for them to say. I was shocked a couple of years back to pass one and see it had become 'Northamptonshire, Helping your Business Grow' - really sets the heart beating, doesn't it. Perhaps I wasn't the only one who raised an eyebrow, because this slogan has now become 'Let Yourself Grow!', and they are back to welcoming us again, but it still isn't the same.
Illustration of an article for DINERO magazine about the re-print of Sir Ken Robinson's best seller book "Out of our minds".
If you haven't check his legendary TED conference, here is the link.
Blue/beige acrylic and black ink. Orange and white via photoshop.
Ken Robinson says schools kills creativity
Ilustración para revista DINERO, un artículo sobre la re-edición del best-Seller de Sir Ken Robinson "Out of our minds".
Si no has chequeado su legendaria charla en TED, he aquí el enlace.
Acrílico azul y beige, tinta negra, el blanco y el naranja en photoshop
I went to the Outer Banks this summer for the first time in my life. We stayed in a cozy hotel in Kill Devil Hills. It had one of the nicest beaches I've ever been to, warm water, gentle waves, perfect sun...I'm looking forward to going back.
Mamiya C330
Kodak Ektar 100
August 2014
Interesting morning sighting, there were circling vultures so we went to investigate and arrived at the kill site just as a large lone male lion ran off into the bush as a large clan of hyena arrived.
The kill was a few hours old and it looked like the lion had had his fill. We sat and watched the hyenas come and go and squabble over the remains. Vultures turned up and were regularly chased away.
Other guests arrived and rapidly retreated, I think we spent a good 1hr 30 minutes at this sighting.
Kwando Lagoon, Botswana
Olympus E-30, 150mm F2 (Little Tuna) @ F4, 1/400, ISO 400
This shot was captured from the bottom of the Stony Kill Falls which is located in Kerhonkson, NY.
A visit to the waterfall is only a short mile plus hike down a forest trail, but requires a climb over several mossy rocks, boulders, and fallen trees. This path will lead you to the base of the waterfall, where the water empties into a small pool of golden water. Stony Kill Falls are said to be approximately 87 feet in length, and one of the biggest on the Shawangunk Ridge in Ulster County, New York.
This non-HDR image was processed / finished in Photoshop, which includes the use of several Topaz Labs filters.
She wanted to throw camphor into the big bowl of fire that was burning in front of the Aravaan statue. Her mom got her one and she did that happily. She wailed and cried and she wanted another. The place was crowded and her mom had to lift her high almost siding into the pit of fire for her to throw it again into it. I told her mom its not a smart thing to do and she must be more careful than that. Several other people voiced the same opinion when I said that.
She took away the crying kid from the pit of camphor fire. The expression on the little ones face towards me is obvious. Im the heinous, cruel, satanic, treacherous and merciless villain that spoilt her fun that day. I told myself Some days you are gonna be the bad guy and moved on. I did however was fast enough to lift the camera and capture her scorching gaze that burnt me down. I was telling myself in Kill Bill style, like Uma Thurman When you grow up and if it still feels raw, Ill be waiting for you
Canon EOS 400D with the Sigma EF 24 - 70 MM F/2.8, Aperture Priority, F/5 at 1/500th of a Second.
Second Life
The video is not intended to be a conventional machinima is just a series of moving pictures interspersed with dark music, resulting in some of the best designers in Second Life with my poses and photoshop work, thanks again
Razul caught his second mouse this weekend. It's amazing how instinct takes over. When I approach him with the mouse he starts growling to indicate this is his kill.
Photography: Shiro Ang
Photo Assistant: Sihan Chen
Ryuko Matoi: Onnies
Special thanks to Comic Fiesta for making this shoot possible!
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Fs : K_doll Kill_u first edition
Skin : white yellow
Body : SD13 Volks long leg white skin. Perfect match with the head
Include : Head + body
Prize : $470 + shipping
just uploading some of my old artwork.. i can't bother to photograph the new custom girl.. yeah.. lazy wins again..
Strobist info: Softbox 120cmx90cm at the left of the camera. Umbrella in the opposite side behind her.