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Knowing very little about Military vehicles or Land Rover all I can say is that this highly bulled Land Rover 66KF58 of the Honourable Artillery Company was on ceremonial duties at Tower Hill on 11 June 2006
knowing i may never figure it out, i stop trying
i allow my endurance to adjust its focus
knowing i may never understand it, i stop asking
knowing i may never be fulfilled, i stop wanting
i will not grab it, for it could blow over to me
the earth mother is always watching, both below and above me
thus i am never alone, i will never be alone, I will always be understood.
in the deep, dark canyon and the sky overhead, i will always be understood
you are not alone
canon ae-1 program
ISO 100
white mountains, new hampshire
And so to the 54th and final East Anglian church of the autumn.
One of the many joys of churchcrawling is not knowing what you might find inside. Even if the exterior is of a single narrative, inside it might be a different story. Or not.
You might meet no one, or a welcoming rector, vicar or warden, another photographer, or, whoever knows.
Which brings us to Aldringham. We had left the delights of Thorpness and were heading in a northerly direction. Past the golf course, empty of golfers. Passing over the heath, we come to a junction and I see a sign pointing the way to Aldringham church.
Down a long lane, lined with trees, to a row of almshouses and opposite a small church with a bellcote. It looked so unpromising, and to make it perfect, a gentle rain had begun to fall. This was clearly going to be a waste of time, either it would be locked or there would be nothing of interest to see.
Inside was a long nave with no chancel arch, or one I can recall. At the west end there was a raised section like the slope of a theatre with a few rows of seats. Above that a very fine stained glass window, and one similar at the east in the chancel.
Two ladies were busy cleaning the carpets and dusting surfaces, all ready for the decorating of the building.
They were pleased to see me, and I was told in very positive terms the greatness of the church and that is is much older than it looks.
But the church is dying, I was told. Not many locals use it, not many tourists come here either.
We talk about Thorpness: visitors leave their brains at the village sign I was told. People park anywhere and let children run everywhere and you can't say anything.
She said she doesn't go to Thorpness in the summer months due to the visitors, and the fact they don't use the local shops. Locals can't afford to live there; a story from almost all the EA coast. You can't tell visitors anything, I was told, if you do you get a mouthful back.
She doesn't like the bright lights of Thorpness and its attractions. What do you think of Aldeburgh I asked. I never go there, she said. Never.
We talked more about young people not being able to afford to live in the area, outsiders buying houses for holiday use once or twice a year, killing the local economy.
I had been inside the church for half an hour and not taken a shot, time was getting on and Jools was waiting outside, although she was reading The Book of Dust, so was alright.
------------------------------------------
Aldringham is the posh end of Leiston these days, I suppose. It merges into the agro-industrial greyness towards Coldfair Green; as you head into it from central Leiston, you pass the Ogilvie almshouses, a name we will meet again later.
If the village is rather mundane, then the same cannot be said of St Andrew. You head out across the heath towards the fantasy holiday village of Thorpeness, which we will also come back to, and then turn southwards on a track through the forest, out into the pines and broom. Incongruously, a row of 19th century almshouses looms into view, looking for all the world as if it had been picked up from the terraces of east Ipswich and dumped here. And there, at the western end, is the delightful church of St Andrew, looking very pretty among the pine trees. I had first seen it on a dull, dark, dismal day in November 2000, and so it was a pleasure to come back on the hottest day so far of 2010 in bright sunshine. At first sight, the church is entirely Victorian, and might even be contemporary with the terrace. However, a blocked door and lancet in the south chancel wall give us a probable original date of about 1200, and a rood loft stair buttress also tells us of this former, Catholic liturgical age. A very good modern extension leads off from the north doorway.
If you had come here 150 years ago, You would have found a tall, ruined 15th century tower, like the one at Corton, 20 miles to the north. The church was painted in 1842, and you can see the tower in the third small photograph at the top of this page. But that is all gone now, for St Andrew was consolidated and completely refurbished inside and out in the mid 19th century. I think the Victorians made a pretty good job of it. The chancel priest door is blocked, and beside it on a buttress is the parish WWII memorial.
The south porch leads down into the body of the nave, and you step down into a church which is full of colour.From a historical point of view the most important survival is probably the 15th century font. This is one of the typically East Anglian fonts, of which about 160 survive in Suffolk, showing angels and evangelistic symbols on the bowl, and lions on the stem. Of all of them, this is one of the best. The seating is banked at the west end, and above it is one of two excellent, large 19th century windows. For such a small church to have two such large windows is rather unusual. This one is by Alexander Gibbs, and shows the disabled man being lowered by his friends through the roof to Christ. The inscription reads This window was placed here in grateful memory of Letitia Caroline Susannah Cannon who died November 8th 1896 aged 81 years, helpless from paralysis during 11 1/2 years. She abounded in most generous gifts to the poor, the church, the churchyard and the endowment. At the other end of the church the window depicts the feeding of the five thousand. These two unusual subjects suggest a particularly evangelical hue to the 19th century congregation here, and create a church like no other in the area. There is a fine, more modern window of St Andrew in a lancet in the south side, which the 19th century restorers here would no doubt have considered idolatrous..
There is an outstanding Art Nouveau memorial in the north-west corner of the churchyard to Letitia Cannon and her husband. I assume that the elaborate ironwork decorative fencing came from the foundry at nearby Leiston. But probably the most memorable thing about this churchyard is the collection of Ogilvie memorials on the southern side of the churchyard. A narrow avenue of box hedging led from the south porch. When I came this way in 2000, this was punctuated by scatterings of parasol mushrooms, which made a very pleasant meal later that night. Today, in the heat of summer, I had been warned to watch out for snakes in the churchyard - adders are common on this wooded heathland. I continued towards what looked like the village war memorial. Indeed, it is used as the village war memorial, but that is not all it is. It is a memorial to one of the Ogilivies, killed late on in the first war; but, as it is so much grander than the simple, pretty one set in the rood stair buttress of the church, it was here in that November that I had found the wreaths of plastic poppies were leaning. The inscription mentions Alexander Walter Ogilvie, who died on October 30th 1918, by name, but also makes reference to Lasting Remembrance of the Great Host of Heroes who made the Supreme Sacrifice 1914-1918. The names of the Aldringham dead are hidden away behind it, as if an afterthought. As I reached it, I was staggered by the massed ranks of large tomb chests on either side of it; Ogilvies to the left of me, Ogilvies to the right. It is the grandest collection of 20th century family tombs in all Suffolk, not excluding the Quilters at Bawdsey. The Ogilvies were fabulously well-to-do, and their name is all over this part of Suffolk, including those almshouses towards Leiston.
The Ogilvies lived at Sizewell Hall, and quite literally shaped the map of Suffolk; theirs was the responsibility for building Thorpeness, the jolly holiday resort on the coast a mile to the east of here, and for the land on which the Sizewell nuclear reactor was built, also a mile away. But best of all, they are thanked every wet Saturday by the divorced and separated fathers of Ipswich, who can let their temporary charges loose in the Ogilvie Room at Ipswich Museum, the biggest public collection of Victorian stuffed birds in the Kingdom. There are simply thousands of the things, including a mighty representation of Bass Rock, and all manner of exotic creatures who met their maker during a flight over the Ogilvies' substantial domain. On more than one display case it says this is the only example of this bird ever collected in Suffolk, and so we may assume that Lord Ogilvie killed an awful lot of birds to make sure that he got these few, a thought which has struck me repeatedly on my many visits to the museum. Ironically, the RSPB's huge Minsmere bird reserve now stretches north of the Ogilvies' former property.
I wandered around the Ogilvies for a while, and then headed back into the church. It was only now that I noticed a simple brass memorial on the south wall of the chancel. It remembers forty-four year old Benjamin Croft, whose name also appears on the World War I roll opposite. What makes him significant (he isn't an Ogilvie, after all) is that he was killed on 10th November 1918, the last full day of the Great War. What an awful piece of luck for him and his family. In 2000, the memorial had combined with the weather outside to infuse me with a mood of gloom, and I remembered still my feeling of sadness. But in 2010 I stepped out into the sunshine, and got chatting to people having a picnic outside the south porch. They were parishioners taking a break from the late spring tidy-up of the graveyard, and they very hospitably asked me to sit down and join them in a glass of wine. It turned out that the Rector, who I had met in the church, had told them who I was, and it was good to meet some followers of the site. They seemd a very jolly, friendly lot, and I decided that Aldringham church must be a fine place to be a member of the congregation.
In 2010, it was the height of the day. I saddled up my bike and set off in the blistering heat towards Knodishall. Back in 2000, the day was ending. I had hoped to head on to find the site of the lost church at Thorpe, and survey the outside, at least, of the 1930s church of St Mary at Thorpeness. But it was not to be, and these would have to wait for another day. The rain was falling steadily, all over Suffolk. I hauled my muddy bike up the muddy path to the almshouses, and set off across the heath, the darkness closing in. On across Coldfair Green, dissolving into the landscape, following Sizewell's mighty pylons to Saxmundham station, and then home.
Simon Knott, July 2010
So we went into Biomed and were basically standing around a pair of crutches. Now this guy comes up to us and asks us if we need help. And we kinda just stare back at him knowing the stupidity of the answer to that question. Anyway someone eventually says that we need crutches and we get sent to the basement. We ask the guy down there if he will be photographed on crutches, he won't. He calls down guy #1 who also doesn't want to be photographed and goes back up to get guy #2 who also doesn't want to be photographed who gets guy #3 who also doesn't want to be photographed who talks to guy #4 to get a lab coat so that we can fake one of us being on crutches and hope no one else notices , but then guy #5 saves the day.
Knowing how much Michelle loves these scones, I had to send her this snap from the fairgrounds this morning.
iPhone 8
I'm taking a little vacation. When I go on vacation, it's a real vacation.......no laptop, no smart phone, no access to the internet at all. It's fun, hopefully sun, and my camera. :-)
One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.
I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.
But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.
Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.
Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.
--------------------------------------------
This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.
We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.
In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.
You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.
D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.
However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.
When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.
Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.
Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?
You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.
As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.
Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.
The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.
The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.
Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.
If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.
St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.
However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.
The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.
Simon Knott, January 2006
Just wanted to say a big thanks to Chris (Blythe Kouklas) for gifting me this fabulous Pinktober jumper!! Its perfect for Hope!! thank you so much Chris!!
Not Knowing Working Group Clive Philpott, Lucy Gunning, Jo Melvin and others, . Raven Row, London.
As part of Artists Placement Group (APG) exhibition at Raven Row, London, a ThinkTank met at Chelsea College of Art and Design to convene a public discussion based on APG’s discursive format of The Sculpture.
Owning one of my blades means you will take great pride in knowing that it is the only one in the world. I may forge others in similar style and dimension but no two will ever be the same. Hand forging is an extremely difficult and labor intensive art form that produces stunningly beautiful, unique and superior edged weapons. In today’s world of mass CNC machining and cheap investment casting, high quality hand made original works are becoming extremely difficult to find. I forge every edged weapon as if it were my very own to carry into battle. It gives me great satisfaction to think that long after I am gone, my blades will proudly be displayed in silent testimony to my passion for this art form. Please study my feedback and be extremely confident that this item will meet or even exceed your expectations. .
Knowing who's bus this is, It had to be photographed before the driver was on. But however he was not on-board this time.
no. YN19 EFF
Knowing about magnetic resonance imaging scan with docturs.com/dd/pg/groups/2517/mri-scan-magnetic-resonance...
Knowing that UP "Big Boy" 4012 is housed at Steamtown, I couldn't resist the urge to pose my 4006 alongside.
Lauren Weisberger
Everyone Worth Knowing
First published in: 2005
This edition: Downtown Press, 2006
ISBN: 978-0-7432-6233-0
Genre: chick lit
Pages: 367
Cover design by Evan Gaffney
book113-everyone-1000px
Before I got my wisdom teeth removed last month, I already figured I'd be useless, simply curled up on the sofa, with blankets and pillows, stuffing my chipmunk cheeked face with painkillers and custard, wishing I could simply go to sleep and wake up a week later, healed up and sans agony. Reading the day away was the next best thing. So that's what I did. My book of choice was EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING by Lauren Weisberger (followed by LAST CHANCE SALOON by Marian Keyes – to be reviewed later). A light and uplifting read, perfect for someone who had the attention span of a gnat due to discomfort, pain and hunger.
Bette Robinson's job is, well, it's just terrible. Working as a banker is hardly what she imagined herself to be doing when grown up. In an a-typical impulsive moment, Bette decides to quit, and discovers funemployment – the fun of which doesn't usually last long. One can only walk her dog so many times before realizing something needs to change. Luckily, thanks to her uncle, Bette scores a job working for Kelly, who owns one of Manhattan's top PR firms, and gets a taste of the life: parties, nightclubs, celebrities… and being the subject of nasty gossip columns.
The premise sounds pretty typical – young single girl in Manhattan working way up the career ladder while living the life of exclusivity, getting herself (manipulated) into crazy situations. I'm personally growing pretty weary of Manhattan as the back drop for so many of these kinds of books and having the importance of "being someone in New York (and only New York)" stressed all the time.
…there are many similarities to THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, another of Weisberger's books, but I somehow still feel EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a tad bit better (and I'm going to be in the minority here) because it seems more successfully satirical.
It's been three years since I've read THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, so I've been racking my brain trying to describe the reason why, but I can't remember feeling as enthusiastic about it as I do with EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING.
In DEVIL, which – as I understand it – is supposed to take a harder stand against "that world" (being based on Anna Wintour and Vogue all), too many names are dropped and brands are mentioned – e.g. product placement – which left me feeling upon finishing that DEVIL is, if anything, one big advertisement. EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a little less extreme in defaming the Manhattan elite, and also less extreme in namedropping. It doesn't try so hard either way.
Albeit less than in DEVIL, Lauren Weisberger still plays for both teams somewhat in EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING: what does she want (from us)? To love Manhattan's elite, or hate it? To have it be relevant, or not?
Are we, readers, meant to be in awe at all the celebrities and exclusivity… or have any disgust with the material world justified? Most likely both – Weisberger to me seems to want to please everybody without really taking a clear stand. (I ended my review of DEVIL: "Lauren Weisberger, Choo's your alliance." – I still feel this way.)
Bette for instance has never before heard of a Birkin Bag. I live in a hole in The Netherlands and while I like bags, I don't really give a crap about labels. Even I know what a Birkin Bag is. Then again, several pages later Bette flawlessly describes one man's entire outfit, including his "men's latest orange Pumas".
I would have perhaps been less hard on the author if Bette really knew zilch about Birkin Bags AND orange puma's AND Armani dresses. This was my main problem with DEVIL. The heroine is supposed to be sort of an antagonist against the material world, yet it is made too relevant – it's Prada this, Blahnik that.
It's inconsistent, but consistently so – not 1, but 2 of Weisberger's books have left me feeling this way.
Weisberger's none too kind about Kelly or her employees, having them drink too much, snort whatever can be snorted up their noses and making sure the (fictional) celeb is a complete tool. But they live the life, and Weisberger does glam it up. What's a banker compared to someone in PR, after all?
What makes EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING worth reading is Bette: she helps to make the book more likable. Bette is one of the most lovely characters I've ever "met" in the chick lit genre. She is like a breath of fresh air to me: very sympathetic and sensible enough, swept away in Manhattan's society but never losing herself in it. Bette doesn't sell out, much preferring her beloved Harlequin book club as opposed to hanging out with slimy celebrities.
Yes, Bette lacks initiative and a back bone, but I don't seek a perfect heroine and couldn't help but adore her, which is very important when reading chick lit – for me anyway. I only read the first part of the SHOPAHOLIC series and felt no need to continue it, mostly because Rebecca Bloomwood frustrated me too much.
Bette is in ways someone I can relate to, despite so many life differences. I think her personality just speaks to me.
The sub-story about her friendships with Penelope and Michael is poor though; Penelope's sub-story seems like predictable filler, and Michael fades away into the background.
One point of irritation regards the gay uncle, whose abundant use of "darling" bothers me to no end; it's like he is channeling the ladies of "Absolutely Fabulous", and doing it badly. Add to that his die-hard republican-ism and I can't help but to shout "SERIOUSLY?!" and shake my head.
But the most important sub-story is sweet and successful: there's a lot of chemistry between Bette and her love interest, their story nicely developed. Definitely swoon material, which is also very important for chick lit. Perhaps – together with a likable narrator – even more than an author taking a clear stand.
I just can't help but to think like a critic more and more. Three years of book reviewing has altered the way I read books: while I can enjoy a book for what it is, I do mentally note the best and worst about it. I think about every book and ask myself questions. So this review will probably come across as very critical.
But ask me the question, "did you enjoy reading it?" – I'll answer, yes. Because I really did. Despite the inconsistencies, despite my questioning Weisberger's satirical merits, EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a perfectly pleasant read. Dental work or not.
© 2010
I was able to make it to the 2011 Texas Renaissance Festival near Plantersville, TX in November 2011. This is such a great festival - it might be the biggest one in the country; it's full of great performers and the people watching is incredible. One of the best parts of the TRF is the Gypsy Dance Theatre - they perform several shows a day and are absolutely fascinating to watch. The dancers are gorgeous and very professional, the costumes are stunning, and the band members just seem like they are having so much fun - they really are a blast to watch! The only problem with trying to photograph them is not knowing who to watch - there is always so much action going on!
Knowing a few tips and learning skills can be very helpful to growers. Not only will it help them optimize their growing methodology but will also save them a great deal of effort not to mention the fact that it can lessen the chances by them screwing up sometimes within the growing cycle.
Source: www.feminizedmjseeds.com/tips-and-techniques-for-growing-...
Knowing or assuming that people on airports are already bit nervous about getting aboard and they could be even more nervous if I would try to take many shots with my "new" Nikkor 55 1.2 to have at least some shot focused, I decided to mount my 85 1.4 again.
I saw this lady in the line in front of check-in desks. Then I saw her again in cafe close to gate and decided to wait and ask her when she is done with her coffee. She kindly agreed and I'm glad. I like her hat and glasses.
This picture is #+100 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page
Il est souvent intéressant d'observer les hommes en milieu clos, dans un sauna par exemple.
Arrêtons-nous sur deux collègues : ils échangeront certainement sur le travail, la politique, des faits anodins, en toute complicité. Que signifie alors ici "homosexualité", quand elle perd son sens commun?
- Lao Tzu (Chinese taoist Philosopher, founder of Taoism. 600 BC-531 BC)
Photo taken at the A-ma Temple in Macau.
"A good photograph is knowing where to stand" - Anselm Adams - and the photographer in the image chose his spot and waited patiently for the moment.
Light Without Knowing Darkness
"To attempt seeing Truth without knowing Falsehood. It is the attempt to see the Light without knowing the Darkness. It cannot be."
--Frank Herbert
Day 276 of 365
Copyright 2022 Scott Norris Creative
scottnorrisphotography.com
scott-norris.pixels.com
#photography #fineart #minimalist
Missing Piece
Playing with the classic jigsaw idea whilst it is raining outside..
A couple of Points to note:
1. Pick a jigsaw not marked as HARD. (failed)
2. When complete don't drop it so you have to start again.. (failed)
What to do with his ears.
Pr1mo at the age of almost 6 months and as you can see the ear on the right (for the viewers left) is already like it still is. The other one is thinking about it.
Dimi came from Bulgaria twelve years ago, knowing no English beyond "hello" and "thank you." For the last ten years she's worked for the interior landscaping service Greens by White. She enjoys her work. The plants are pretty.
Dimi tells me her name comes from her native town, Dimitrovgrad.
Dimitrovgrad was founded in 1947. A brief account here.
"The town was built by 50 000 members of brigades who came from 963 Bulgarian towns and villages. A part of them became inhabitants of the new town. From 1948 to 1950 they worked in an independent brigade called Mlada Gvardia (Young Guards). Their motto was: We are building a town – the town is building us!
Brigades built dozens of homes, Chemical Works, Vulkan factory, Nitrogen fertilizer works, the road network of today's Municipality of Dimitrovgad, the road through Hainboaz passage, the railway lines: Lovech - Troyan, Pernik – Voluyak, Samuil – Silistra, the artificial lakes Alexander Stamboliiski, Georgi Dimitrov and others. The first in Bulgaria Mechanical Bakery was opened there. In parallel with its building the town began its own cultural, social and political life. "