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interior of Nativity church, Pirot, south-east Serbia
this church is 175 years old
Храм Рождества Христовог, Пирот, Србија
Nativity church, Pirot, Serbia
Tanjica Perovic Photography
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It's a foggy and rather gloomy out there, this morning, so I figured, a little color and light should do me good. Hope it works for you guys as well :D
Leica M (Typ 240)
Voigtlander VM Superwide-Heliar 15mm f4.5 Aspherical II
Laycock Abbey,
Laycock, Wiltshire, UK
Light gives of itself freely,
filling all available space.
It does not seek anything in return;
it asks not whether you are friend or foe.
It gives of itself and is not thereby diminished.
~Michael Strassfeld
Point Bolivar Light is in Port Bolivar, Texas. The lighthouse was built in 1872. It was retired in 1933 when it was replaced by another lighthouse.
after a rainfall, i love to explore. what's dropped to the ground? how does light fall on a puddle? i often find beauty in unexpected places. and i get delightfully muddy in the process.
(Camera settings)
Camera: FinePix HS20EXR (FUJIFILM)
Focal Length: 4 mm
ISO Speed: 100
Aperture: f/2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/850 sec
Fujifilm X-E3 + Fujinon XF 23mm F1.4
SOOC JPEG-colours. Classic Chrome film simulation. Cropped afterwards.
What is true by lamplight is not always true by sunlight.
Model; Verena
Assistant; Chris
Pictures & Make-up www.Reografie.nl
Licht;
One light 400W with batt pack from above.
(Assistant holding the flash above model)
Don't use my images (on sites, mail, covers, magazines etc) without my explicit permission.
Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the Devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee;
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.
If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet:
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two or three.
- John Donne