View allAll Photos Tagged knowing
Model: Zenia Tong
Photographer: Justin Bonaparte
Copyright 2020 by Justin Bonaparte. All Rights Reserved.
Knowing Thyself To Fully Knowing Thy Enemies.
Nihilistic incredulitate despicientia est contra fatuum sonat vitae,
verflixten indiskret Wissenschaft entgegen Ehre Erbe Dialektik,
curviei continuare poeți anemici inspira dincolo de,
нежелательно тирания человек убедить злых целей тщеславие Селф,
idealuri cristalizate adversarii denigratoare simțuri slabe temeri,
percepciones de validez conceptos conectados examinan idiomas pervertidas permanece,
proclamant actions distinctes incompréhension manières suffisantes désormais,
ymwybyddiaeth cyffredinol blaenorol ymchwiliadau gwybodaeth ar unwaith datgelu,
complexe representaties Integendeel testamenten se onpeilbare lessen ontwikkeld,
legbelső szubsztrátum rendelkezik versek jelenség táplálkozás önkéntes akciók,
gémissements horribles os sifflant mers brûlantes,
voci ciudate blestem in scadere luni stele dip,
groteszk elvtársak sok dühös kiáltások lóg édességek,
uordnede hjerter flåte Palfrey svar forteller,
ombreggia sotto cervelli spaventosi tetro parlò,
liopaí nach mbíonn socraithe wretched tintreach hissing mór a lorg,
容赦なく毒傷が受け入れ見つめ魂の裏切り者.
Steve.D.Hammond.
Knowing that the sun has been an amazing thing to see in the morning lately I went for a drive to find an interesting foreground to shoot. I headed down a road I've never been on before and came upon these two silos. This was taken just east of Princeton, Illinois. Incidentally, this is the 10,001st shutter action on my Canon 6D. Just getting broken in.
Knowing that Prague is very popular, we deliberately visited there in the shoulder-month of October - and it still the city was overrun with tourists (knowing full well, we are part of the epidemic). The days and evenings were hit and miss in terms of weather, but we had managed to get quite a few shots in between the showers. Enjoy!
Once in a time long past, this wandering photographer happened upon a lady sitting alone in her camp, engaged in some needlepoint. I observed her from a distance and was impressed by her pleasant manner as she went about her task. I approached and bid her good day. She stopped her work, looked up and returned in kind. As I was quite taken by her character, I asked if I might be allowed to photograph her... She said "I don't mind at all". As quickly as I could, I set up my equipment so as not to take any more of her time than necessary, while she, returned to her needle and thread. When I announced I was ready she asked if I was sure I wanted to photograph her since she had been working all morning and her dress was wrinkled and her hair out of place. I quite humbly said I thought she looked just fine and she rolled her eyes while smiling and said "Shaw". She then straightened herself, looked directly into the camera's lens and said "Alright then". And I took my photograph. I bowed and thanked her for her time and with a small nod, she said it was "no bother at all". We said our goodbyes and I went on my way looking for other subjects to photograph...
It wasn't until later during developing that I discovered I had captured the wonderful essence of what caught my attention about this lady in the first place. In her calm eyes and relaxed posture I saw a confidence and dignity that shown far beyond her humble attire. Her gracious pose looked more like that of Royalty.
And though I'm sure her circumstance was not always easy. I was left with the impression that she understood her place in life and lived it with her own Kindness, Patience and Knowing...
Knowing 47348 would run round in Worcester Yard before returning to Norton Junction to take the North Cotswold line to Long Marston I positioned myself in the V for its return!
It left Norton Junction at 14.00 on the 26th March 1998 with MOD 6Z35 from Didcot Yard.
Knowing so many of these people the way I do, I'm sure that I read a lot more into what I see than is probably intended.
It's hard to put into words, but phrases like "arrested development" or "lost childhood" are simplified labels. Toys and simple things that we all had as kids seem to be a big thing with a lot of the guys on the street.
I may be putting too much pop psychology thought into it, or it may just be that I'm REALLY tired and I'm starting to ramble. But seeing scenes like this always makes me wonder even more about what some peoples lives must have been like growing up. I know what mine was like, and I'm guessing it was VERY different from theirs.
“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” –Carl Gustav Jung
Better in L
NO BANNERS, please!
“Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.” Hal Borland
. . . makes it a lot easier when I am in public. Back in the day, when I ventured out into the public arena, I was definitely NOT trying to draw attention to myself. In fact, I was trying to hide while actually in plain sight.
There was a major "sea change" when I decided to enjoy myself and be proud of who and what I am. Not that I am in people's faces, but I will not avoid them either.
Model: Tania d'Anconia
Photographer: Justin Bonaparte
« If you appreciate my work and would like to support me becoming an independent photographer, become a Patreon supporter at www.patreon.com/alexdehaas, or buy me a coffee at www.buymeacoffee.com/alexdehaas :) »
Knowing this bird was a Woodpecker, I judged its features compared to all of the adult birds in the overall family that I know to be regular, if not common, up here. This is one of only a few juvenile male Williamson's Sapsucker that I have ever imaged... or even IDed up here. The clinching field marks are the all black back and the yellow belly. It's quite advanced, but still lacks the red throat. At this time of year I concentrate on juvie images... the young birds change so fast, and quality images are lacking in the usual reference sources. ( I welcome comments and/or corrections to these IDs.) The female Williamson's juvie had been captured in prior years... it's so distinctive that its ID is pretty straightforward. It looks a lot like its largely dissimilar Mom.
IMG_3410; Williamson's Sapsucker
we moved this spring break :)and i love our new little duplex.
and ofcourse i had to do a photoshoot while everything was bare and studio-like. i want to try a levitation shot. in my room.. i hope it works out :)
Knowing that there would be thunderstorms up in the northern parts of California, my girlfriend and I decided to head up towards the Willows area to where a bunch of isolated storms began to fire up along a portion of I-5. After witnessing a downdraft of a storm near Williams, a new cell started to go absolutely crazy over Yuba City. Upon arrival, bolts of cg lightning started popping out every 10-30 seconds. Quickly jumping out of my car and watching this storm reach its peak. The only few bolts I got were not very vibrant and not photogenic unfortunately, but definitely fun to see this kind of weather in June.
"Knowledge is knowing the tomato is a fruit, wisdom is not putting it in your fruit salad."
Miles Kington
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I love that quote. :D
Fresh fruits and vegg - especially these tomatoes - are the best.
Summertime farmers markets make me very happy.
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==The Hindu Kush Valley==
Walking through the desert, a group of heroes look over at a nearby village. Orange flames lick and spit, civilians run for cover. At their leader's insistence, one, a red and yellow android creates a cyclone, extinguishing the blaze. Another, a Magician in a top hat utters the spell "Wolf Retaw," a stream of water bursting from her wand. Their leader, a blond haired, handsome man, looks up at a nearby jet and puts his finger to his ear. "This is Aquaman, we've arrived at the drop sight. Over."
Onboard the Javelin, Mr Terrific answers back. "Understood. What do you see?"
Aquaman pauses. The recent sandstorm had made it difficult to see much of anything, even with his heightened senses. A few yards away, he notices something. A series of immobile, black figures, pointed ears atop their masks. "Talons... I see... God."
They're all dead, impaled on their own swords, unable to move. He looks at his boot, drenched in their bizarre, greyish blood. They're freshly killed.
Suddenly, the nearest Talon reaches out, unable to take the sword out it's chest, instead it begs, silently, in the hopes Arthur might slay it.
"They're still alive..." he gasps.
At this, Terrific looks at the scanners, zooming in on the heroes below them. "Aquaman, get out of there."
"I don't understand," Arthur replies.
"The blood, Arthur, look at the blood!" Holt yells, as the other heroes join him on the bridge. Without uttering a word, the other Leaguers nod at Holt, and exit the Javelin.
Aquaman steps back, and looks down at the ground. "What the hell?"
Written in the Talon's blood, a single word. "Aquaman."
"Tornado, Zatanna, get out of here," he yells, before a plasma ray sends him flying through a building. Walking towards him, in a black and silver suit, his red eyes glowing with energy, is Black Manta, beside him a man in a red and black tuxedo, a camera mounted on his head. "He actually delivered... Start filming."
=The League of Assassins Archives. Nanda Parbat=
Ra's looked at the case. Inside it, *her* costume- a bright orange and black leotard, wings protruding from it's back, long red boots and gloves, and a black domino mask. He opened the cabinet, and held the blade in his hand. It must've been fifteen years since he last held it in his hand. The day he gave it to her.
"Master, you wanted to speak with the informant?" Ubu asks.
Ra's stroked the blade. Nostalgia was not something he often let himself feel, but this, this was different. He'd written it off at first, the effects of the new Lazarus strain, but he couldn't ignore it any longer. He turned his head to his servant, blade in hand. "Ah, yes."
"Father, is this wise?"
"Talia, enough," Ra's says, raising a hand to his daughter. "Ubu, let him in. Leave us," he adds, as Talia heads towards the door.
Complying, he opens the door, and lets him in. The man who sold out the Misfits, the man who told the League of their plans, and where to find them. In a hushed, gruff voice, the figure mutters, pointing an annoyed finger at Ra's. "That sword. 'Doesn't belong to you."
"No." Ra's smiles, turning to face Doctor Gaige. Gone was the red mask and snappy suit, traded for his old scuba gear. His mask may obscure his face, but there was no mistaking his demeanor. Ra's gestures to his trophy cases, dozens of them, as he continues. "It doesn't. None of them do. This place, this shrine was built three hundred years ago. I oversaw it's construction personally. It honours all my fallen warriors. Sons, daughters. The finest assassins the world has ever known..."
Gaige stirs. "Did you murder *them,* too?"
Ra's turns his head slightly. "Some, yes. But it will never be said they died without honour.
You must think me a monster. A butcher. It's true, yes, I've buried children before, Doctor Gaige, my own, and, I will continue to do so long after your death. I can *just* handle the effects of the Lazarus Pit centuries on, but the toll it takes on them... It is better, sometimes, to let them die. So, I do what anyone who has lived as long as I should do. Move on."
"Yes, well, that's always been my issue," Gaige growls.
Ra's nods. "Hmm. Of course. But, thank you, regardless of our histories, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. Rest assured, Mr Walker and his friends will be dealt with."
Gaige walks forwards, a finger pointed at Ra's throat, bitterness in his words. "Please, I've seen how you treat those you respect."
"You speak of Miranda?"
"I *speak* of my daughter."
...
Ra's moves Gaige's hand away. "My condolences."
Gaige nods, as he pushes towards the shrine. "I just want her body, and her gear. Do whatever the hell you want with them."
Again, Ra's nods, but he can't help look at Gaige. He was quieter, and he hadn't even swore. At last, the pirate chuckles to himself.
"Heh. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Walker's plan. They'd be dead before they even made it to you. Funny that," he nods. "But... imagine, say, if they actually got in here," he says, as he pulls out a harpoon, and fires it into Ra's hand.
==Ra's Palace. The Courtyard==
"You say hell yeah, and I'll kill you myself."
Chuck turns to Gar, a sly smile on his face. "Never," he says cheekily.
Lined on the cobblestones, were the Misfits. Gar, Chuck, Rigger, Chancer and Needham. Their hands were tied, and they were forced onto their knees, by the surrounding Ninja. One mans a camera, aiming it at the five of them, while several more draw their swords.
"The Master wants Walker to watch," one of them says, dressed in a yellow and brown outfit.
The cameraman nods, donning a black and green outfit. Though he doesn't say a word, his message is simple enough to understand. 'Of course, Shrike.'
"Cypher-?" Gar calls out suddenly. "You son of a bitch!"
"You're making a scene," Needham murmurs.
"Oh no, first Gaige now you?! I'm going to roast you alive you fuckin' traitor!" Gar screams, as another two ninja rush to restrain him
"Hell yeah!" Chuck adds encouragingly, before muttering a feeble apology. "Sorry."
"The Master offered you mercy," Shrike says warningly, as he begins to sharpen his blade. "You should've taken it."
"Your master dropped a city on us, personally, I'm not a fan," Chancer mutters to himself.
"Enough. Kill him first," Shrike says, as a ninja pulls Chancer in front of the camera.
"Oh, fuck you, buddy, I didn't even fucking swear!" Sharpe screams out, as his neck is placed on a stone slab.
"Oh, Jeez," Rigger moans. Needham sighs, and turns his head away. Gar looks on in horror. Chuck whispers a "Hell no," as the ninja raises the blade above his head, and- the sword shatters on Chancer's neck. The ninja steps back in confusion. Chancer grins as confidence surges through him. As he rises to his feet, the cuffs slide off. The first ninja runs at him, but slips and falls on their face. A second trips over the body, their sword flying through the air, hitting a third in the chest. A fourth hurls a throwing star at Sharpe that he ducks under, landing in a fifth's forehead. Cypher looks at the carnage, and runs off, abandoning the camera. When all's done. The Misfits look at Sharpe incredulously.
"Guess who's back in business," he exclaims proudly, before Shrike punches him in the back of the head, as he collapses to the ground
Gar looks down disappointedly. "Huh. That was almost impressive," as Shrike pulls Chancer off the ground, and unsheathes his blades.
"Oh, you're dead," he smirks, as suddenly, an orange fireball hits him from behind.
As Volcana lands on the ground, Shrike lunges for her, but he's quickly dispatched with with a blast of yellow flames. Turning to Gar, she smiles uncharacteristically sweetly. "Hi honey!"
===The Dungeons===
"My god... Norbert. Norbert, I'm sorry. I let you down. I'm always doing that."
Drury looks at his brother, chained up, bloody. No doubt in his months of captivity, Ra's agents had reprogrammed him. Just another failure of his, Drury thought. When would they stop?
As Norbert's chains are undone, Drury closes his eyes. This was it wasn't it? Not on the battlefield, not by Ra's or Bane's hand... Just him, trapped in a dungeon, with the Killer Wasp.
"Drury..."
Norbert looks down at him, cocks his head to one side, then kneels beside him. Holding his brother's head in his hand, he whispers hoarsely. "Still me."
Drury opens his eyes, and stares at him incredulously... those were *his* eyes. Warm, kind, alive.
Norbert turns round, and with an energy blast, tears the stone wall apart, offering Drury his hand, they barrel down the hall, taking down every Ninja in their way.
"Y-you... You fought it? You fought the brainwashing," Drury asks, struggling to keep up.
As they arrive at the laboratory, Norbert stops, and picks up a pair of bloodied pliers. His own.
For the first time since Drury had been reunited with him, he winks. "I made promise, Drury. Never again."
"No!" a metallic voice echoed, as Darhk marches towards them from the other side of the room. "You belong to me! You do what I say."
Norbert pauses, raises Darhk above his head, and smashes his glass visor. As he struggles to breathe, Norbert rests a hand on his shoulder, helping him lie down. "Never."
"Not bad, kid," a voice calls down to them, as Deathstroke turns to his comms. "The shields are down, the codes are yours. It's showtime."
=======
"This is Javelin-Theta, our systems have been compromised, we're being pulled apart up here!" Ollie yells as he attempts to steer the ship away from the village.
Flying beside them, a purple clad assailant uses his powers to rip the ship apart, and hurl it at another.
"Gotta say, this is so cool!" he yells to himself.
Passing by him, Sinestro barks a word of warning at him. "Nichol, please focus," as he creates a yellow buzzsaw to take on another jet.
Deflecting, Polaris laughs heartily. "C'mon, boss, have to admit, this is a lotta fun," he calls out, using his metallurgy to pull a steel clad man out of the jet.
"Hey Plug Boi, pick on someone your own size!" Guy Gardner, yells, as he hits Polaris with an oversized mallet, and catches Steel in a catcher's mitt.
"That's the wrong one, Guy," Hal calls back, as he creates an emerald net around Evil Star.
"Same difference Jordan!"
As Nichols rises back into the air, he calls out, confused. "What's a Plug Boy?"
Nearby, the Batwing weaves in and out of the airborne superheroes and villains. A strike from Black Adam's lightning immediately overcharges it's systems, spinning it out of control. "Batwing's hit, switching to auxiliary power," Bruce calls out, as he hits a few levers in an attempt to keep himself airborne.
"I don't understand, it's like they knew we were coming..." Clark calls, as he swoops in and catches the crew from the downed Javelin.
Bruce growls over comms. "Kenyon. Goldface baited us, and we fell for it."
"This is Flash," Barry says as he runs through the battlefield, "Bats, something's not right, Bane and half his goons are a no-show. Hell, I think saw Bivalo for crying out loud! Reckon it's some kind of a diversion."
"Understood," Batman replies. "Bane's there somewhere, Flash, keep at it. Any Society member we take down is progress, I'll have Cyborg increase the scanners."
"I'm all dark here, Bats. Whatever they've got, it's got a hell of a jammer," Cyborg chimes in.
====Society Field Headquarters====
Bane watches the battle from above. Hundreds of the society's underlings, *his* underlings, battle the Justice League and Ra's ninja. He felt something unfamiliar, something swelling in his chest. Pride. "Thinker, I think it's time we make our introduction. Lower shields," he says turning to the holographic display beside him.
The Leagues look at the sky, emerging from the clouds, a massive skull-like spacecraft. Brainiac's.
Bane smirks, as he addresses the ground forces. "We recovered this from an ARGUS blacksite from one of his last invasions. Primary shrink ray has been disabled, secondary weapons at maximum capacity. Let's begin."
~
Across the world, people watch the battle unfold, as heroes and villains alike fall.
In their slabside cells, Harvey Dent and David Clinton watch on enthralled. As Two-Face argues with himself, Chronos raises a finger to the screen. He knew them all, didn't he?
Bound to a wheelchair, Jonathan Crane trundles through the Asylum gardens, "That should have been me," he thinks to himself longing to wield a yellow ring once more.
Julian Day watches in his new hideout, concerned. Wherever the Misfits had gone, they weren't on the front lines.
In his funhouse, the Joker lets out a maniacal laugh. Let them have their fun. They'll see, it's all a joke anyway.
In Italy, Roman Sionis rests his tennis racket on the ground, and reaches for his phone. "Those idiots are really gonna destroy the world aren't they?" he mutters to his assistant.
In his penthouse, Oswald Cobblepot shares a drink with the Great White Shark. Turning to the TV, he can't help smiling knowing those Talons are suffering.
In the Batcave, Alfred Pennyworth watches on the oversized monitor, and sighs as he continues dusting. His attention turns to the Watchtower teleporter, as a high pitched beeping starts to ring out. "What on Earth?" he wonders.
In Lexcorp, already in the midst of his own masterplan, Luthor checks his smartwatch. "So they actually did it, did they? Morons."
On the streets of Central City, money in hand, the Rogues pause in front of a computer shop, all the screens displaying Simm's footage. His phone buzzing, Mirror Master answers it.
"Yo, McCulloch, you seeing this?" the voice on the other end asks.
"Aye, kid. I am."
"Good," Axel says, as he puts on his domino mask and turns to his sister.
On the battlefield, Disaster points at Simms, and pulls the Mighty Bruce to his side. "Hey, Bruce, that guy's got a camera *on his head*"
"Major, that's Mr Camera-" Tockman begins.
"Why didn't you ever think of that? Certainly beats lugging all this gear around" Disaster continues, ignoring both Bruce and Tockman's protests.
"I'm claustrophobic, Major," Bruce mutters.
At this, Artie taps Disaster on the shoulder and whispers harshly into his ear.
"Maj, please don't stuff the kid's head inside a camera."
Lastly, in Butchinsky's, Len looks at the bar. Empty. With the Society's video on every station, everyone else had already gone to fight. His picked his rag off the table, and smiled. "Fuck it." And walked out the door.
After a real struggle of not knowing which direction to take with my art, I seem to have found something that suits me. I feel like I'm truly growing in my work. Going to try and keep a good thing going, with several other paintings in mind, including the one of Rita that I had to put aside for a while. Ann's original, used as a reference, is in my first comment.
"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go..."
— Dr. Seuss (Oh, the Places You'll Go!)
*Sigma SD15 DSLR with Foveon X3 sensor & Sigma 17-35mm f/2.8-4 EX DG Lens
My work is for sale via Getty Images and at Redbubble and 500px
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All images are Copyright © all rights reserved Tom Raven/Tim Barrable, please do not use anywhere without my permission or a license, thank you.
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Enjoy! :)
.
Knowing there was a good chance that some decent storms were going to flare up around the Central Coast and the Hunter on this day last summer, I went for a cruise up to Wyong and The Entrance.
It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes: I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.
Check again: it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.
It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act: people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious dénouement
to the unsurprising end — riveted, as it were;
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours.
(Robyn Sarah)
* I am NOT agreeing with all of this poem but it is such a wonderful composition on failed hopes, wasted opportunities, and an acceptance with a hint of a 'clin d'oeil' on ourselves that I wanted you to share it with me!
Now, please read the TRUE story that comes with this photo romanza:
With this burst of colours I say Good Bye for a while!
Being in the middle of packing, visiting, doing this and doing that, having more sleepless nights than is good for me....
It's never fun to move house, but it's 10 times worse when you move from paradise to the unknown... I feel expelled from my chosen life, I cry when I see 'my Lac Leman' (Léman) because I will have neither lake nor river where I am going, we will - once again - have to make new friends when I just was feeling really well with the 'new ones' I made here...
And yet, as you can see; this is a cheerful, happy and bright photo!! Because I am happy to be able to live once more with my husband, after a too long time living apart except for short weekends when a thousand things waited to be resolved every time.
We have to accept the bad with the good, don't we! And so I shall follow my Mari Magnifique to France and before I go, I shall scold my wonderful mum for giving me the wrong name: I should have been called RUTH (... and she followed her husband wherever he went!! - see bible Ruth 1:16)
See?! :))) I am grinning already :)))
Taken for the Two Word Wednesdays group.
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Knowing that the other Lynx was also out, I had to go and find it ! I nailed this one in Bradwell, on a journey from Castleton to Sheffield.
Over time, a total of 8 examples of the Lynx joined the fleet, to the probable dismay of the engineers and passengers !