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What this really needs is a naked girl with long, flowing hair swimming lithely across the pond, but I was fresh out that day.
This is another shot of the abandoned quarry mine with that awesome water colour...
Even deeper if you click the pic to view in Lightbox
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without my explicit permission.
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First time lithing MF negs. This was a home made negative carrier so it's not quite even and square.
1/2
I am very happy to introduce you my new line BiDoll Lithe. The dolls in this line possess a different type of sexuality, they look tall and skinny. The name BiDoll consists of two parts. Bi translated from Latin means “two” or “double”. When I worked on Lithe characters the double meaning inspired me. I wanted to create two dolls that are different and the same at once. The unicorn, the legendary and magical creature, also inspired me. MonokeRos is one of the names for unicorn that people used from ancient times. It sounded to me that the name consists of two - Monoke and Ros, and I decided to give these names to my new dolls. At the very beginning my goal was to create a complex costumed doll using different techniques such as jewelry making, embroidery, etc. I believe that my goal is accomplished. The costume is very complicated and the embroidery was done over the tiny mesh fabric. Over 100 hours of work was spent on embroidery only. The corset, shoes and the crown are made from metal and gold plated with 18K gold. BiDoll Lithe MonokeRos is a piece of art that made in porcelain, painted with China paints, it comprises the jewelry making and fashion design techniques. MonokeRos is a synthesis of many arts and designs in one object. I am very happy that I could use all my skills in one work and show many sides in the art of making a doll. Please enjoy, one of the dolls of your choice can be yours.
This is a Lith print onto Harman DIrect positive paper from a B&W Rollei Blackbird Slide.
Film processing and printing all done in house
Rollei Blackbird has a very thin film base but it's also very clear so reverses beautifully. Highly recommended.
Harman D P reacts kind of strangely to printing. Based on the data sheet, one would assume that a massive over -exposure would result in a white image. However at some point the paper flips and a massive over exposure goes black. Also the paper starts white and seems to go pinkish under enlarger lamp. I suspect that a slight underexposure will result in a better lith print but more experimentation has to be done. If anyone knows how this paper works, chemically, i'd be very interested in hearing, it feels very counter intuitive working with it and it wasn't responding as I expected it to. However it lithed pretty nicely and there's definitely more scope for using it with positives.
So a year and a half or so ago, I started a lion MOC for Brickfair 2011. I envisioned a more cartoony lion, something tall and lithe, more along the lines of Scar from Lion King.
I have had a lion MOC I've taken with me to all the cons since that one, but I've never considered it finished. So I took the basic body, and re-did just about everything else, opting to forgo the cartoonishness for something a little more realistically proportioned. It's still a little too pitbull-ish in the chest and front legs, but overall I'm satisfied with it. Even though it's now almost a weird mishmash between my current skillset and style and that from nearly two years ago.
"And there was scent of thyme in it and sight of lilac, and the chorus of birds that sings before dawn in April, and the deep proud splendor of rhododendrons, and the litheness and laughter of streams, and miles and miles of May."
— Lord Dunsany (The King of Elfland's Daughter)
Summer Flower Series, 2012 - #4
*Pentax K20D DSLR with Pentax DA 35mm f/2.4 AL 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.
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
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Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Scanned lith print.
The fifth of five consecutive lith prints on different lithable papers treated exactly in the same way except for order in the lith developer and snatch point.
Mamiya 645 ProTL w/ M-S 45 mm/f2.8.
Feb 2013.
Adox CMS 20 in Adotech II (from the good old days when this extremely high resolution MF film still existed).
Lith printed on Oriental Seagull G-2 Blue Box
Exposure time 80 sec. Developed as print #5 in Moersch Easy Lith (20A+20B+760H2O, 25-30°C), snatched after 11 min. Fixed in Moersch ATS alkaline fixer 1+9, 2,5 min.
Untoned.
Vintage card. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Ann Miller (1923-2004) was an American dancer, singer and actress. She was famed for her speed in tap dancing and her style of glamour: massive black bouffant hair, heavy makeup with a splash of crimson lipstick, and fashions that emphasized her lithe figure and long dancer's legs. Miller is best remembered for her work in the classic Hollywood musicals Easter Parade (1948), On the Town (1949) and Kiss Me Kate (1953).
Ann Miller was born Johnnie Lucille Ann Collier in 1923 on her grandparent's ranch in Chireno, Texas. Her father wanted a boy, so Ann was named Johnnie, and she later went by Lucille. Her father was a well-known criminal lawyer who had defended famous gangsters Bonnie and Clyde and Baby Face Nelson. Mrs. Collier enrolled her three-year-old little girl in dancing lessons to help strengthen her legs, which had become weakened from a case of rickets. When Miller was ten she met Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson at a local theatre and he gave her a quick tap-dancing lesson. She liked that style of dance very much and decided to concentrate on it with further lessons. After her parents divorced, she went with her mother to Hollywood, determined to get into show business. The eleven-year-old brunette, pretending to be of legal age, was soon hired to dance for $25 a week at the Sunset Club, a small lounge where gambling went on upstairs. Using the stage name of Ann Miller, she practiced her machine-gun tapping for the thrilled patrons. She also danced at the seedy Black Cat Club, where she scooped up the coins customers threw into her skirt to help pay the bills. Before long, Ann was netting unbilled extra roles in the films Anne of Green Gables (1934) and The Good Fairy (1935), and she got to dance in Devil On Horseback (1936). The next year the thirteen-year-old was dancing for a four-month run in a show at the popular Bal Tabarin nightclub in San Francisco. There, she was discovered by comedian Benny Rubin and future comedian, actress Lucille Ball. Ball introduced Miller to executives at RKO Studios. Pretending she was eighteen with the help of a fake birth certificate supplied by her father, Ann landed a seven-year contract and a role in the film New Faces of 1937 (1937).
Ann Miller's first great part was in Stage Door (1937), in which she danced with Ginger Rogers and acted with Lucille Ball, Katharine Hepburn, and Eve Arden. Other films in which Ann appeared include Radio City Revels (1937), the Oscar winner You Can't Take It With You (1938) with Jean Arthur and James Stewart, and Room Service (1938) with the Marx Brothers. Miller introduced Lucille Ball to Desi Arnaz, and, some years later, the famous couple bought RKO and re-named it DesiLu. Ann's last film at the studio was Too Many Girls (1940), in which she co-starred with friends Lucy and Desi. She then appeared on Broadway in George White's Scandals in 1939 and 1940, for which she won rave reviews. In 1940 Miller moved to Republic Pictures, where she enlivened Melody Ranch (1940) with Gene Autrey in his first musical film, and Hit Parade of 1941 (1941). Other films followed, many aimed at promoting the war effort, which includes True To The Army (1942), Priorities On Parade (1942), Reveille With Beverly (1943), What's Buzzin' Cousin? (1943), Hey Rookie (1944), and Jam Session (1944). In 1945, Ann briefly dated powerful MGM boss Louis B. Mayer. When the much older mogul asked Ann to marry him, she turned him down. Moaning and groaning to her on the phone, the dramatic Mayer swallowed sleeping pills and immediately sent his chauffeur to summon Ann to his death bed. An ambulance arrived first and he recovered. Later, Ann married Reese Milner, a rich steel heir, and they lived on the biggest ranch in California where they raised prized Hereford cattle. The marriage ended quickly after Reese threw Ann down the stairs of their home. Pregnant Miller filed for divorce from her hospital bed, with her broken back in a steel harness. Her baby, Mary, died a few hours after birth. Later, painfully returning to Mayer for a job, he told her, "If you'd married me, none of this would have happened."
Ann Miller was still in a back brace when she danced to Shakin' The Blues Away in Easter Parade (1948), co-starring Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. She received fantastic reviews, and MGM gave Ann a seven-year contract. Ann then proceeded to make her most spectacular Technicolor musicals including On The Town (1949), Small Town Girl (1952), Kiss Me Kate (1953) which was extravagantly filmed in 3-D, and Hit The Deck (1955). Her last musical was a remake of the 1939 film The Women, named The Opposite Sex (1956). The glamorous, outgoing, and articulate Ann was also hired as MGM's Good Will Ambassador. She travelled the world in gorgeous designer ensembles while representing her studio with personal appearances and speaking engagements. When she flew to Morocco in July of 1957 to appear with Bob Hope on the Timex TV Hour, she entertained five thousand troops in 120-degree weather as she sang 'Too Darn Hot', and soon set a record for the world's fastest tap-dancing at 500 taps a minute. In 1958, Miller married her second millionaire, Texas oilman Bill Moss who, she quipped, "...looked exactly like my first husband. Three months later, he broke my arm." A third marriage to another oilman, Arthur Cameron, was annulled within a year, though they remained friends. From 1966-1970, Ann became a hit on Broadway in 'Mame'. In 1970 she turned to television and starred in a commercial for Heinz's Great American Soups, in which Miller tap-danced on an eight-foot can of soup surrounded by dozens of high-kicking chorus girls, 20-foot fountains, and a 24- piece orchestra. Then, tapping her way back into her kitchen, her husband cried, "Why must you make such a big production out of everything?" The song she sang was written by humorist Stan Freberg and choreographed by Danny Daniels. In 1972, in St. Louis, on the opening night of the musical show 'Anything Goes', Ann was knocked in the head by the steel beam of a fire curtain. Although as a consequence she was unable to walk for two years and suffered permanant vertigo, her life actually had been saved by her well-known, stiff, enormous, lacquered black wig. In 1979, she made a comeback and a fortune in 'Sugar Babies' with former teenage Hollywood acting schoolmate Mickey Rooney. The popular show ran for two years on Broadway and seven more years on the road. In 1998 she appeared in a successful revival of Stephen Sondheim's 'Follies' at the Paper Mill Playhouse in New Jersey. In 1972, Miller published her autobiography, 'Miller's High Life', and more memoirs in 1981 with 'Tops In Taps'. Her last screen appearance was playing Coco in director David Lynch's critically acclaimed Mulholland Drive (2001). Ann Miller died of lung cancer in Los Angeles, California in 2004. She was buried next to her miscarried daughter, which reads "Beloved Baby Daughter Mary Milner November 12, 1946". The Smithsonian Institution displays her favourite pair of tap shoes, which she playfully nicknamed "Moe and Joe".
Sources: Steve Starr (The Entertainment Magazine), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
For more Juliana, click on her album below. (To access her album on your iPhone, click on the information icon at the bottom of this screen; then, when your next screen appears, scroll down just a bit, and you'll see her "album.")
Kristin.
more here: steffifoto.blogspot.de/2012/08/kristin-portrait.html
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Otters are one of our top predators, feeding mainly on fish, waterbirds, amphibians and crustaceans. Otters have their cubs in underground burrows, known as a 'holt'. Excellent and lithe swimmers, the young are in the water by 10 weeks of age. Otters are well suited to a life on the water as they have webbed feet, dense fur to keep them warm and can close their ears and nose when underwater.
A lith print ode to my Oregon friend Travis Doane.
Dear Travis,
It's now been 4 years since you sent me this treasure of old lithable papers from big USA to small Sweden. This kind act of yours sends a message to all the world - we belong together and should not fight. And for me it's a treasure of old lithable papers I would never get hold of otherwise. This day I have gone through the remaining papers and - as to my ability - have made prints that are supposed to be as streamlined as possible from a given negative. But of course there's always the influence of "human variability" when it comes to snatch point and so forth...
Anyways, I hope you understand my gratitude for this possibility. Have a great rest of the year 2023, Travis and may we have lith contact for many years to come.
Best/Johan
Scanned lith print.
Mamiya 645 ProTL w/ M-S 45 mm/f2,8.Early morning of April 22, 2023.
Fomapan 200 @ iso 100, dev in Rodinal 1+100, semistand 1 h.
Lith printed and developed in Moersch SE5 (25A+25B+some OB+700H2O).
Untoned.
Only a selection of images from each photo-shoot are posted here. If you'd like to see additional images from certain models you'll need to subscribe to my Patreon account where I will be publishing content I don't post here. You'll also have the option to make fan requests for more photos, or new photo-shoots, with your favourite models. My subscription rates are very low , staring from only $1/month, so check it out as I could really do with your support. - www.patreon.com/realitydysfunction
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The Loire river, the Grey Titan crane and the ferry to Trentemoult.
Lith print on Guilleminot paper with Moersch Easy Lith
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80's and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul's is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer - couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I'll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch - the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn't seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one's eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey - on sale, of course - for good measure.
I'm sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I've been verily impressed with what I've seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace - his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold - 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I've had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket - if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That's how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating - the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned - China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one's mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn't as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus' resurrection at the St. Andrew's Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that's what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 - what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that's Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde's Wherry, I've had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp's DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history - the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering - and photographing - into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I've seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white - the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city's love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I'm nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba - repeated in clever variants - and parodies of other masters' works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson - I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge - for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn't dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we've grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere - London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn't add up for me.
I'm in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street - yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle - they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air - fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I'm leaving on a jet plane this evening; don't know when I'll be back in England again. I'll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I'm grateful for God's many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley's home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine - I'm happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley's home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display - I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson's house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn't stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen's take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies - I got no game - booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn't make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That's all for England!
Photo Copyright 2012, dynamo.photography.
All rights reserved, no use without license
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
(Redirected from Hong kong)
Hong Kong, officially the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China, is an autonomous territory south to Mainland China and east to Macao in East Asia. With around 7.2 million Hong Kongers of various nationalities[note 2] in a territory of 1,104 km2, Hong Kong is the world's fourth most densely populated country or territory.
Hong Kong used to be a British colony with the perpetual cession of Hong Kong Island from the Qing Empire after the First Opium War (1839–42). The colony expanded to the Kowloon Peninsula in 1860 and acquired a 99-year lease of the New Territories from 1898. Hong Kong was later occupied by Japan during the Second World War until British control resumed in 1945. The Sino-British Joint Declaration signed between the United Kingdom and China in 1984 paved way for the transfer of sovereignty of Hong Kong in 1997, when it became a special administrative region (SAR) of the People's Republic of China with a high degree of autonomy.[15]
Under the principle of "one country, two systems",[16][17] Hong Kong maintains a separate political and economic system from China. Except in military defence and foreign affairs, Hong Kong maintains its independent executive, legislative and judiciary powers.[18] In addition, Hong Kong develops relations directly with foreign states and international organisations in a broad range of "appropriate fields".[19] Hong Kong involves in international organizations, such as the WTO[20] and the APEC [21], actively and independently.
Hong Kong is one of the world's most significant financial centres, with the highest Financial Development Index score and consistently ranks as the world's most competitive and freest economic entity.[22][23] As the world's 8th largest trading entity,[24] its legal tender, the Hong Kong dollar, is the world's 13th most traded currency.[25] As the world's most visited city,[26][27] Hong Kong's tertiary sector dominated economy is characterised by competitive simple taxation and supported by its independent judiciary system.[28] Even with one of the highest per capita incomes in the world, it suffers from severe income inequality.[29]
Nicknamed "Pearl of the Orient", Hong Kong is renowned for its deep natural harbour, which boasts the world's fifth busiest port with ready access by cargo ships, and its impressive skyline, with the most skyscrapers in the world.[30][31] It has a very high Human Development Index ranking and the world's longest life expectancy.[32][33] Over 90% of the population makes use of well-developed public transportation.[34][35] Seasonal air pollution with origins from neighbouring industrial areas of Mainland China, which adopts loose emissions standards, has resulted in a high level of atmospheric particulates in winter.[36][37][38]
Contents
1 Etymology
2 History
2.1 Prehistory
2.2 Imperial China
2.3 British Crown Colony: 1842–1941
2.4 Japanese occupation: 1941–45
2.5 Resumption of British rule and industrialisation: 1945–97
2.6 Handover and Special Administrative Region status
3 Governance
3.1 Structure of government
3.2 Electoral and political reforms
3.3 Legal system and judiciary
3.4 Foreign relations
3.5 Human rights
3.6 Regions and districts
3.7 Military
4 Geography and climate
5 Economy
5.1 Financial centre
5.2 International trading
5.3 Tourism and expatriation
5.4 Policy
5.5 Infrastructure
6 Demographics
6.1 Languages
6.2 Religion
6.3 Personal income
6.4 Education
6.5 Health
7 Culture
7.1 Sports
7.2 Architecture
7.3 Cityscape
7.4 Symbols
8 See also
9 Notes
10 References
10.1 Citations
10.2 Sources
11 Further reading
12 External links
Etymology
Hong Kong was officially recorded in the 1842 Treaty of Nanking to encompass the entirety of the island.[39]
The source of the romanised name "Hong Kong" is not known, but it is generally believed to be an early imprecise phonetic rendering of the pronunciation in spoken Cantonese 香港 (Cantonese Yale: Hēung Góng), which means "Fragrant Harbour" or "Incense Harbour".[13][14][40] Before 1842, the name referred to a small inlet—now Aberdeen Harbour (Chinese: 香港仔; Cantonese Yale: Hēunggóng jái), literally means "Little Hong Kong"—between Aberdeen Island and the southern coast of Hong Kong Island. Aberdeen was an initial point of contact between British sailors and local fishermen.[41]
Another theory is that the name would have been taken from Hong Kong's early inhabitants, the Tankas (水上人); it is equally probable that romanisation was done with a faithful execution of their speeches, i.e. hōng, not hēung in Cantonese.[42] Detailed and accurate romanisation systems for Cantonese were available and in use at the time.[43]
Fragrance may refer to the sweet taste of the harbour's fresh water estuarine influx of the Pearl River or to the incense from factories lining the coast of northern Kowloon. The incense was stored near Aberdeen Harbour for export before Hong Kong developed Victoria Harbour.[40]
The name had often been written as the single word Hongkong until the government adopted the current form in 1926.[44] Nevertheless, a number of century-old institutions still retain the single-word form, such as the Hongkong Post, Hongkong Electric and the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation.
As of 1997, its official name is the "Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China". This is the official title as mentioned in the Hong Kong Basic Law and the Hong Kong Government's website;[45] however, "Hong Kong Special Administrative Region" and "Hong Kong" are widely accepted.
Hong Kong has carried many nicknames. The most famous among those is the "Pearl of the Orient", which reflected the impressive nightscape of the city's light decorations on the skyscrapers along both sides of the Victoria Harbour. The territory is also known as "Asia's World City".
History
Main articles: History of Hong Kong and History of China
Prehistory
Main article: Prehistoric Hong Kong
Archaeological studies support human presence in the Chek Lap Kok area (now Hong Kong International Airport) from 35,000 to 39,000 years ago and on Sai Kung Peninsula from 6,000 years ago.[46][47][48]
Wong Tei Tung and Three Fathoms Cove are the earliest sites of human habitation in Hong Kong during the Paleolithic Period. It is believed that the Three Fathom Cove was a river-valley settlement and Wong Tei Tung was a lithic manufacturing site. Excavated Neolithic artefacts suggested cultural differences from the Longshan culture of northern China and settlement by the Che people, prior to the migration of the Baiyue to Hong Kong.[49][50] Eight petroglyphs, which dated to the Shang Dynasty (c. 1600 BC – 1066 BC) in China, were discovered on the surrounding islands.[51]
Imperial China
Main article: History of Hong Kong under Imperial China
In 214 BC, Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of a centralised China, conquered the Baiyue tribes in Jiaozhi (modern-day Liangguang region and Vietnam) and incorporated the area of Hong Kong into his imperial China for the first time. Hong Kong proper was assigned to the Nanhai commandery (modern-day Nanhai District), near the commandery's capital city Panyu.[52][53][54]
After a brief period of centralisation and collapse of the Qin dynasty, the area of Hong Kong was consolidated under the Kingdom of Nanyue, founded by general Zhao Tuo in 204 BC.[55] When Nanyue lost the Han-Nanyue War in 111 BC, Hong Kong came under the Jiaozhi commandery of the Han dynasty. Archaeological evidence indicates an increase of population and flourish of salt production. The Lei Cheng Uk Han Tomb on the Kowloon Peninsula is believed to have been built as a burial site during the Han dynasty.[56]
From the Han dynasty to the early Tang dynasty, Hong Kong was a part of Bao'an County. In the Tang dynasty, modern-day Guangzhou (Canton) flourished as an international trading centre. In 736, the Emperor Xuanzong of Tang established a military stronghold in Tuen Mun to strengthen defence of the coastal area.[57] The nearby Lantau Island was a salt production centre and salt smuggler riots occasionally broke out against the government. In c. 1075, The first village school, Li Ying College, was established around 1075 AD in modern-day New Territories by the Northern Song dynasty.[58] During their war against the Mongols, the imperial court of Southern Song was briefly stationed at modern-day Kowloon City (the Sung Wong Toi site) before their ultimate defeat by the Mongols at the Battle of Yamen in 1279.[59] The Mongols then established their dynastic court and governed Hong Kong for 97 years.
From the mid-Tang dynasty to the early Ming dynasty (1368–1644), Hong Kong was a part of Dongguan County. During the Ming dynasty, the area was transferred to Xin'an County. The indigenous inhabitants at that time consisted of several ethnicities such as Punti, Hakka, Tanka and Hoklo.
European discovery
The earliest European visitor on record was Jorge Álvares, a Portuguese explorer, who arrived in 1513.[60][61] Having established a trading post in a site they called "Tamão" in Hong Kong waters, Portuguese merchants commenced with regular trading in southern China. Subsequent military clashes between China and Portugal, however, led to the expulsion of all Portuguese merchants from southern China.
Since the 14th century, the Ming court had enforced the maritime prohibition laws that strictly forbade all private maritime activities in order to prevent contact with foreigners by sea.[62] When the Manchu Qing dynasty took over China, Hong Kong was directly affected by the Great Clearance decree of the Kangxi Emperor, who ordered the evacuation of coastal areas of Guangdong from 1661 to 1669. Over 16,000 inhabitants of Xin'an County including those in Hong Kong were forced to migrate inland; only 1,648 of those who had evacuated subsequently returned.[63][64]
British Crown Colony: 1842–1941
A painter at work. John Thomson. Hong Kong, 1871. The Wellcome Collection, London
Main articles: British Hong Kong and History of Hong Kong (1800s–1930s)
In 1839, threats by the imperial court of Qing to sanction opium imports caused diplomatic friction with the British Empire. Tensions escalated into the First Opium War. The Qing admitted defeat when British forces captured Hong Kong Island on 20 January 1841. The island was initially ceded under the Convention of Chuenpi as part of a ceasefire agreement between Captain Charles Elliot and Governor Qishan. A dispute between high-ranking officials of both countries, however, led to the failure of the treaty's ratification. On 29 August 1842, Hong Kong Island was formally ceded in perpetuity to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland under the Treaty of Nanking.[65] The British officially established a Crown colony and founded the City of Victoria in the following year.[66]
The population of Hong Kong Island was 7,450 when the Union Flag raised over Possession Point on 26 January 1841. It mostly consisted of Tanka fishermen and Hakka charcoal burners, whose settlements scattered along several coastal hamlets. In the 1850s, a large number of Chinese immigrants crossed the then-free border to escape from the Taiping Rebellion. Other natural disasters, such as flooding, typhoons and famine in mainland China would play a role in establishing Hong Kong as a place for safe shelter.[67][68]
Further conflicts over the opium trade between Britain and Qing quickly escalated into the Second Opium War. Following the Anglo-French victory, the Crown Colony was expanded to include Kowloon Peninsula (south of Boundary Street) and Stonecutter's Island, both of which were ceded to the British in perpetuity under the Convention of Beijing in 1860.
In 1898, Britain obtained a 99-year lease from Qing under the Convention for the Extension of Hong Kong Territory, in which Hong Kong obtained a 99-year lease of Lantau Island, the area north of Boundary Street in Kowloon up to Shenzhen River and over 200 other outlying islands.[69][70][71]
Hong Kong soon became a major entrepôt thanks to its free port status, attracting new immigrants to settle from both China and Europe. The society, however, remained racially segregated and polarised under early British colonial policies. Despite the rise of a British-educated Chinese upper-class by the late-19th century, race laws such as the Peak Reservation Ordinance prevented ethnic Chinese in Hong Kong from acquiring houses in reserved areas such as Victoria Peak. At this time, the majority of the Chinese population in Hong Kong had no political representation in the British colonial government. The British governors did rely, however, on a small number of Chinese elites, including Sir Kai Ho and Robert Hotung, who served as ambassadors and mediators between the government and local population.
File:1937 Hong Kong VP8.webmPlay media
Hong Kong filmed in 1937
In 1904, the United Kingdom established the world's first border and immigration control; all residents of Hong Kong were given citizenship as Citizens of United Kingdom and Colonies (CUKC).
Hong Kong continued to experience modest growth during the first half of the 20th century. The University of Hong Kong was established in 1911 as the territory's first higher education institute. While there had been an exodus of 60,000 residents for fear of a German attack on the British colony during the First World War, Hong Kong remained unscathed. Its population increased from 530,000 in 1916 to 725,000 in 1925 and reached 1.6 million by 1941.[72]
In 1925, Cecil Clementi became the 17th Governor of Hong Kong. Fluent in Cantonese and without a need for translator, Clementi introduced the first ethnic Chinese, Shouson Chow, into the Executive Council as an unofficial member. Under Clementi's tenure, Kai Tak Airport entered operation as RAF Kai Tak and several aviation clubs. In 1937, the Second Sino-Japanese War broke out when the Japanese Empire expanded its territories from northeastern China into the mainland proper. To safeguard Hong Kong as a freeport, Governor Geoffry Northcote declared the Crown Colony as a neutral zone.
Japanese occupation: 1941–45
Main article: Japanese occupation of Hong Kong
The Cenotaph in Hong Kong commemorates those who died in service in the First World War and the Second World War.[73]
As part of its military campaign in Southeast Asia during Second World War, the Japanese army moved south from Guangzhou of mainland China and attacked Hong Kong in on 8 December 1941.[74] Crossing the border at Shenzhen River on 8 December, the Battle of Hong Kong lasted for 18 days when British and Canadian forces held onto Hong Kong Island. Unable to defend against intensifying Japanese air and land bombardments, they eventually surrendered control of Hong Kong on 25 December 1941. The Governor of Hong Kong was captured and taken as a prisoner of war. This day is regarded by the locals as "Black Christmas".[75]
During the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, the Japanese army committed atrocities against civilians and POWs, such as the St. Stephen's College massacre. Local residents also suffered widespread food shortages, limited rationing and hyper-inflation arising from the forced exchange of currency from Hong Kong dollars to Japanese military banknotes. The initial ratio of 2:1 was gradually devalued to 4:1 and ownership of Hong Kong dollars was declared illegal and punishable by harsh torture. Due to starvation and forced deportation for slave labour to mainland China, the population of Hong Kong had dwindled from 1.6 million in 1941 to 600,000 in 1945, when the United Kingdom resumed control of the colony on 2 September 1945.[76]
Resumption of British rule and industrialisation: 1945–97
Main articles: British Hong Kong, 1950s in Hong Kong, 1960s in Hong Kong, 1970s in Hong Kong, 1980s in Hong Kong, and 1990s in Hong Kong
Flag of British Hong Kong from 1959 to 1997
Hong Kong's population recovered quickly after the war, as a wave of skilled migrants from the Republic of China moved in to seek refuge from the Chinese Civil War. When the Communist Party eventually took full control of mainland China in 1949, even more skilled migrants fled across the open border for fear of persecution.[69] Many newcomers, especially those who had been based in the major port cities of Shanghai and Guangzhou, established corporations and small- to medium-sized businesses and shifted their base operations to British Hong Kong.[69] The establishment of a socialist state in China (People's Republic of China) on 1 October 1949 caused the British colonial government to reconsider Hong Kong's open border to mainland China. In 1951, a boundary zone was demarked as a buffer zone against potential military attacks from communist China. Border posts along the north of Hong Kong began operation in 1953 to regulate the movement of people and goods into and out of the territory.
Stamp with portrait of Queen Elizabeth II, 1953
In the 1950s, Hong Kong became the first of the Four Asian Tiger economies under rapid industrialisation driven by textile exports, manufacturing industries and re-exports of goods to China. As the population grew, with labour costs remaining low, living standards began to rise steadily.[77] The construction of the Shek Kip Mei Estate in 1953 marked the beginning of the public housing estate programme to provide shelter for the less privileged and to cope with the influx of immigrants.
Under Sir Murray MacLehose, 25th Governor of Hong Kong (1971–82), a series of reforms improved the public services, environment, housing, welfare, education and infrastructure of Hong Kong. MacLehose was British Hong Kong's longest-serving governor and, by the end of his tenure, had become one of the most popular and well-known figures in the Crown Colony. MacLehose laid the foundation for Hong Kong to establish itself as a key global city in the 1980s and early 1990s.
A sky view of Hong Kong Island
An aerial view of the northern shore of Hong Kong Island in 1986
To resolve traffic congestion and to provide a more reliable means of crossing the Victoria Harbour, a rapid transit railway system (metro), the MTR, was planned from the 1970s onwards. The Island Line (Hong Kong Island), Kwun Tong Line (Kowloon Peninsula and East Kowloon) and Tsuen Wan Line (Kowloon and urban New Territories) opened in the early 1980s.[78]
In 1983, the Hong Kong dollar left its 16:1 peg with the Pound sterling and switched to the current US-HK Dollar peg. Hong Kong's competitiveness in manufacturing gradually declined due to rising labour and property costs, as well as new development in southern China under the Open Door Policy introduced in 1978 which opened up China to foreign business. Nevertheless, towards the early 1990s, Hong Kong had established itself as a global financial centre along with London and New York City, a regional hub for logistics and freight, one of the fastest-growing economies in Asia and the world's exemplar of Laissez-faire market policy.[79]
The Hong Kong question
In 1971, the Republic of China (Taiwan)'s permanent seat on the United Nations was transferred to the People's Republic of China (PRC), Hong Kong's status as a recognised colony became terminated in 1972 under the request of PRC. Facing the uncertain future of Hong Kong and expiry of land lease of New Territories beyond 1997, Governor MacLehose raised the question in the late 1970s.
The British Nationality Act 1981 reclassified Hong Kong into a British Dependent Territory amid the reorganisation of global territories of the British Empire. All residents of Hong Kong became British Dependent Territory Citizens (BDTC). Diplomatic negotiations began with China and eventually concluded with the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration. Both countries agreed to transfer Hong Kong's sovereignty to China on 1 July 1997, when Hong Kong would remain autonomous as a special administrative region and be able to retain its free-market economy, British common law through the Hong Kong Basic Law, independent representation in international organisations (e.g. WTO and WHO), treaty arrangements and policy-making except foreign diplomacy and military defence.
It stipulated that Hong Kong would retain its laws and be guaranteed a high degree of autonomy for at least 50 years after the transfer. The Hong Kong Basic Law, based on English law, would serve as the constitutional document after the transfer. It was ratified in 1990.[69] The expiry of the 1898 lease on the New Territories in 1997 created problems for business contracts, property leases and confidence among foreign investors.
Handover and Special Administrative Region status
Main articles: Transfer of sovereignty over Hong Kong and 2000s in Hong Kong
Transfer of sovereignty
Golden Bauhinia Square
On 1 July 1997, the transfer of sovereignty over Hong Kong from the United Kingdom to the People's Republic of China took place, officially marking the end of Hong Kong's 156 years under British colonial governance. As the largest remaining colony of the United Kingdom, the loss of Hong Kong effectively represented the end of the British Empire. This transfer of sovereignty made Hong Kong the first special administrative region of China. Tung Chee-Hwa, a pro-Beijing business tycoon, was elected Hong Kong's first Chief Executive by a selected electorate of 800 in a televised programme.
Structure of government
Hong Kong's current structure of governance inherits from the British model of colonial administration set up in the 1850s. The 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration states that "Hong Kong should enjoy a high degree of autonomy in all areas except defence and foreign affairs" with reference to the underlying principle of one country, two systems.[note 3] This Declaration stipulates that Hong Kong maintains her capitalist economic system and guarantees the rights and freedoms of her people for at least 50 years after the 1997 handover. [note 4] Such guarantees are enshrined in the Hong Kong's Basic Law, the territory's constitutional document, which outlines the system of governance after 1997, albeit subject to interpretation by China's Standing Committee of the National People's Congress (NPCSC).[95][96]
Hong Kong's most senior leader, Chief Executive, is elected by a committee of 1,200 selected members (600 in 1997) and nominally appointed by the Government of China. The primary pillars of government are the Executive Council, Legislative Council, civil service and Judiciary.
Policy-making is initially discussed in the Executive Council, presided by the Chief Executive of Hong Kong, before passing to the Legislative Council for bill adoption. The Executive Council consists of 30 official/unofficial members appointed by the Chief Executive and one member among them acts as the convenor.[97][98]
The Legislative Council, set up in 1843, debates policies and motions before voting to adopt or rejecting bills. It has 70 members (originally 60) and 40 (originally 30) among them are directly elected by universal suffrage; the other 30 members are "functional constituencies" (indirectly) elected by a smaller electorate of corporate bodies or representatives of stipulated economic sectors as defined by the government. The Legislative Council is chaired by a president who acts as the speaker.[99][100]
In 1997, seating of the Legislative Council (also public services and election franchises) of Hong Kong modelled on the British system: Urban Council (Hong Kong and Kowloon) and District Council (New Territories and Outlying Islands). In 1999, this system has been reformed into 18 directly elected District Offices across 5 Legislative Council constituencies: Hong Kong Island (East/West), Kowloon and New Territories (East/West); the remaining outlying islands are divided across the aforementioned regions.
Hong Kong's Civil Service, created by the British colonial government, is a politically neutral body that implements government policies and provides public services. Senior civil servants are appointed based on meritocracy. The territory's police, firefighting and customs forces, as well as clerical officers across various government departments, make up the civil service.[101][102]
In a parallel universe, an express goods train headed by lithe racing rocket 442 055 looks like she's really putting in the effort here; whereas in the real world, she slowly wheezes uphill on the long climb towards Nefasit. Note the brakeman - each wagon has a little shelter equipped with a dude who operates a brakewheel - rather important on a line with hours of unbroken (save occasional wee passing stations) grades steeper than 3%, non-airbraked stock, and slack hook and chain couplings. And you thought long strings of N scale micro-trains wagons did the bogo-pogo... Eritrea, 8 Dec 2014
There is a Vulcan and a Lithic Heart at the centre of the images depending which two are meeting in the middle. The Vulcan Heart is a Vulcanised Tyre Heart and the Lithic Heart is made by the Stones coming together. The reflections bring about some excellent wyrd wonders.
There is a Grass Heart and Shadow Heart too. Everyone needs Picnic Heart and a Calm Heart. Well at least I think that we all need a Picnic Heart and a Calm Heart.
[Oh yes and there is a Shadow Dove flying along the centre too, that is it is a Shadow Dove unless you see it as a young cow in which there is a Shadow Coo in the centre grazing not ascending.]
Final point to be made is a suggestion that the metal balance in some of the pictures looks very Dragon Like. Please note Dragon Like, not a Dragon, just an echo calling and falling through the seasons and over the years. Once seen the Dragon Like resemblance is an image to reflect upon especially so with Dragon Lore mentioning the sleepy long slumbers of such mythic beast. In those legendary snooze times surely there might be a little flaking and descaling as fresh ‘solid feathers’, not squalid fetters, regrow, well I am happy to suggest so.
From out the earth it came and return back into it is going.
© PHH Sykes 2024
phhsykes@gmail.com
Westray Heritage Centre
Designed for speed and style, this supercar defines the phrase “poetry in motion.” With lithe styling, vibrant livery, dual-bore exhaust, and a sweeping glass canopy over driver and engine, it dispenses with pleasantries to offer a lively driving experience.
More photos available in the build album.
©2021 Chris Elliott, All Rights Reserved.
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Brovira Liths (BEH111)
Se5 35:42:900:0:5
Attention for the brovira co-masochists, this asymmetric fat soup makes brovira lithing less maso fun: <10mins @~25°C
LOOK:
HAIR: Stealthic - Lithe (Browns)
DRESS: ISON - cage dress (emerald)
NECKLACE: (Yummy) Gemstone Accent Necklace
BRACELET: The Boutique /
Jewelry - Drop Chain Bracelet
PLACE: Borneo Isle maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Borneo%20Isle/136/192/34
I found this little seahorse on a beach whilst on holiday in Rhodes. It wasn't until years later that I actually photographed it. I still have it wrapped up in cotton wool and placed in an old jewellery box.
First ride on Fatso since lobbing the new tyres on, and thankfully (given their cost) they give a really good ride.
They seem to have a more rounded profile, and even allowing for my preference for biasing tyre pressures towards road use, they are a lot livelier than the outgoing Floaters.
Traction and general grip seem fine to me, given I don't push things hard anyway, but I've yet to tackle the Fat Bike's nemesis - wet slop hit at speed where the tyres float and skate about rather than biting through the mud, wheels go in several directions at once and bowels loosen briefly.
When fitting the tyres I'd also given Fatso a thorough clean and polish, and had a go at sorting out the increasingly recalcitrant rear derailleur.
Sunday morning warm bed inertia suggested not going out in the cold, getting a clean bike filthy and getting all frustrated if the gears continued clanking and rattling instead of changing properly. But I had to give it a go sooner or later so dragged myself out with little enthusiasm, and was soon glad I did so, as I had a thoroughly enjoyable time.
As mentioned, the tyres are great and have given Fatso a new found litheness and the gears snickety snicked perfectly.
A really good ride coupled with some quality nose poking in the woods made for a much better day than I anticipated.
I am very happy to introduce you my new line BiDoll Lithe. The dolls in this line possess a different type of sexuality, they look tall and skinny. The name BiDoll consists of two parts. Bi translated from Latin means “two” or “double”. When I worked on Lithe characters the double meaning inspired me. I wanted to create two dolls that are different and the same at once. The unicorn, the legendary and magical creature, also inspired me. MonokeRos is one of the names for unicorn that people used from ancient times. It sounded to me that the name consists of two - Monoke and Ros, and I decided to give these names to my new dolls. At the very beginning my goal was to create a complex costumed doll using different techniques such as jewelry making, embroidery, etc. I believe that my goal is accomplished. The costume is very complicated and the embroidery was done over the tiny mesh fabric. Over 100 hours of work was spent on embroidery only. The corset, shoes and the crown are made from metal and gold plated with 18K gold. BiDoll Lithe MonokeRos is a piece of art that made in porcelain, painted with China paints, it comprises the jewelry making and fashion design techniques. MonokeRos is a synthesis of many arts and designs in one object. I am very happy that I could use all my skills in one work and show many sides in the art of making a doll. Please enjoy, one of the dolls of your choice can be yours.
Here's the finished lith print from the Tree and Dunes negative. This was printed onto Agfa Cykora Kashmir paper that expired in 1941. I exposed the image for 3 minutes under the enlarger, and had it in the lith developer for 9 minutes. The highlights looked extremely light to me under the safelight, but I thought if I left it in any longer, the dark areas would get out of control like on the rhino print. I'm glad I yanked it when I did (insert obligatory "that's what she said" here).
This was my first shoot with the lovely MJ - what a sweet, lithe, fun and sharp young lady. Amanda and I shared her for a bit and we gave her a workout on Ron's bike. All in all a fun shoot and I look to more shoots with MJ.I took these photos at the Caldwell Train Depot back in March 2020 before Stay at Home kicked in.
2014 Alfa Romeo 4C First Drive. Bringing Sexy Back: Alfa Romeo’s Return to the U.S. is Simply Stunning!
Do you even care? Honestly, if I told you the 2014 Alfa Romeo 4C drives like a 1983 Dodge Diplomat on bald tires, would it really make a difference? After all, Alfa told us that the 4C has “more to do with the heart than with the brain.” I believe they mean that girls this gorgeous can be Miss Teen South Carolina dumb, because just look at her! I have teeth marks on my fist after a full day spent gawking at the car marking Alfa Romeo’s return to the U.S. after the brand packed up the espresso machines back in 1995. The 4C’s so hot that if the Fiat Group had decided to slap “Dino 246” on the rump next to a yellow shield filled with a prancing horse, car enthusiasts the world over would still be nodding their collective heads yes. She’s a total dreamboat, my friends, and I even dig the headlights. As for the rest of the car, keep reading.
Before I get to how the 4C drives, let me tell you what she is. The Fiat Group first started working on the concept in September of 2010. Reaction to Alessandro Maccolini’s design at the 2011 Geneva show was so strong that just two years later I’m driving the production version. The first cars will arrive at European dealers in October. Manufactured by Maserati in Modena to be sold through Maserati dealers in the U.S., the new 4C is principally light, though not quite as light as Alfa is claiming. Italian carmakers have this horrible habit of weighing cars without certain fluids—oil, gas, coolant, transmission and brake. They also tend to leave out airbags. The result is a meaningless number they call “dry weight.” Alfa claims the U.S.-spec 4C will weigh 2083 pounds (the Euro version will weigh about 100 pounds less because of no side or knee airbags, no A/C, and a fixed, non-sliding passenger seat). I’m here to tell you that the 4C’s actual weight is going to be closer to 2500 pounds, if not more. Alfa’s number is pure fantasy, and besides, 2500 pounds is really light these days. That’s about what a Fiat 500 weighs. Why so light? Materials. The entire body is made from SMC (sheet-molded compounds, the new way to say fiberglass) and the use of steel has been kept to an absolute minimum. There’s also heavy use of carbon fiber, no pun intended. Alfa says that 25 percent of the vehicle consists of carbon fiber but that the ultra-strong, light composite material only accounts for 10 percent of the vehicle’s weight. The entire monocoque is said to weigh just 143 pounds. (For reference, the McLaren 12C’s carbon fiber-tub reportedly weighs 165 pounds.) Moreover, with an expected price of $54,000 when the 4C arrives in America in May, 2014, the lithe little Alfa is around $200K cheaper than any other car with a carbon-fiber center and aluminum subframes. Aside from the McLaren, other cars constructed this way include the Lamborghini Aventador, Pagani Huayra, and Bugatti Veyron. Under the back glass sits a transverse, mid-mounted, thoroughly reworked all-aluminum version of the Giulietta’s 1.7-liter, turbocharged, direct injected inline-four that produces 237 hp and 258 lb-ft of torque. That may not sound like much, but with Mazda Miata-like weight and a quick-shifting, six-speed, dual-clutch transmission, she flies. From behind the wheel the 4C feels particularly potent. Eighty percent of the torque is available from 1800 rpm, and this car’s mid-range kick is surprisingly strong. Alfa claims 0-62 mph happens in 4.5 seconds and a trip around the Nürburgring is 8:04 minutes. Give us a few months and we’ll get you some actual numbers, plus a Randy Pobst-piloted Laguna Seca lap. The engine makes a lot of noise – the DI pump sounds like a sewing machine, there’s a constant whoosh from the turbo and/or blowoff valve, and another from the snaking intake pipe. You should see how they crammed it in back there. Plus, the dry dual-clutch makes a loud clack when you really start banging off the shifts. The combined result sounds like a mini-Veyron, a little steam-powered factory. Sure, a tiny twin-cammer that revs out to 8000 rpm would sound better, but the world has changed. As I discovered, opening the window clears most of it so that all you mostly hear is the exhaust note, which I’ll discuss in a bit. The best part of the 4C is the hyper-accurate steering. It’s neither hydraulically nor electronically assisted. There’s no power steering! Not only does this save weight, but there’s no better way to get more direct steering feel. Your muscles are turning the wheels, which naturally requires a bit of effort at parking-lot speeds. However, once you get up to a couple of miles per hour, the car’s easy enough to maneuver. Since there’s no variable rate nonsense, the steering is refreshingly linear. Yes, the car tramlines a bit (follows grooves in the asphalt), and as a result the helm feels busy. There’s no on-center point caused by the position-related deactivation of the power assist most cars have. But so what? Essentially every other car on sale has layers upon layers of insulation masking what the front wheels are rolling over. You can read manhole covers with the 4C. Moreover, the car just feels more alive, more nimble, more sporting. I love it. The Brembo brakes are also phenomenal. On the never-ending track I kept finding myself whoa’d down a full 100 meters earlier than I should have been. While relatively small (12 inches up front, 11.5 in back), with such a light vehicle you don’t need massive disks. Besides, smaller rotors reduce overall and unspring weight. In the interest of weight savings, Alfa even specified aluminum hats mounted inside cast-iron rotors.
Combine the natural, feedback-filled steering with a snappy, flexible powertrain, gluey brakes, and a low curb weight, and friends, you nearly have a winning recipe. All you’d need further at this point is a racy suspension, and boy howdy does the 4C deliver that. Double control arms and F1-style angled springs and dampers up front, coupled with a MacPherson strut-type rear, combine to make the most of the mid-engine coupe’s natural balance. The ride is rough but not brutal— sports car fans will dig it. I was surprised by how much support and bump absorption the thin, lightweight seats provided. They hold you in place real well, too. There’s a four-position stability and traction-control system that starts with Alfa Romeo’s now standard DNA selector (Dry, Normal, All-weather) and adds in a fourth mode activated by holding D for five seconds, called Race. As you may imagine, in Race every bacon-saving algorithm is switched off. However, as the 4C’s so neutral and balanced to begin with, you really have to do dumb things/overcook corners to get it to misbehave. Dynamic mode increases the throttle response and makes the shifts more aggressive. (Alfa claims 130 milliseconds to swap cogs.) On the street in Dynamic mode I never had the TC light flicker, and only once on the track. Only track rats will ever need Race, because the 4C is a car with Lotus Exige-style moves minus the torture chamber ergonomics. Speaking of ergonomics, it’s sparse inside. Appreciably so. While small, the 4C is far from cramped. Two full-size adults fit comfortably in the sporty buckets and there’s a Ferrari 458-esque amount of space between your right knee and anything. There’s also perhaps the best dead pedal in the business, a purposeful-looking solid aluminum lump. Couple that with a beefy, flat-bottomed steering wheel and you have an incredible perch from which to attempt your best and do your worst. Creature comforts are few and far between, but the A/C blows cold (it’ll be standard in U.S. cars), there are two cupholders, and there’s even a beeping parking sensor for when you go into reverse. You really need that last bit, as you can’t see a damn thing in the rearview mirror. There was also what appeared to be a radio of some sort, but the thought of turning it on never crossed my mind. Of particular note inside is the central tub’s exposed carbon fiber. Unlike most cars, which want to show off their CF intensity by wrapping either the mirrors or the front splitter in carbon, in the 4C you’re seated in the actual business. It’s captivating, and frankly the first time I’ve liked exposed carbon on a car’s interior. Speaking of captivating, I wish you all could stand behind the 4C’s sport exhaust as it goes wide open. What a glorious devil’s trombone of a noisemaker. Alfa, I implore you, bring on the roadster, which would be easy to do because of that super-stiff carbon-fiber tub. McLaren claims that it experienced no loss of stiffness when cut off the 12C’s roof, and Alfa said the same would be true with the 4C. However, try as I might I couldn’t get them to admit that they’re working on a 4C Spider, though they’d be tone deaf not to. The hard part will be figuring out where to stick a folded top. The sport exhaust is an option, though it will be standard on the Launch Edition 4Cs. Either way, check that box. I liked playing on the Fiat Group’s historic Balocco proving grounds and the semi-rural, semi-curvaceous routes we drove west of Milan. But I kept dreaming that the 4C was back in California on stretches of canyon I have memorized. We spend a lot of our time talking about great driver’s cars, and Alfa Romeo has gone and built one. Which is both wonderful and crazy, as there wasn’t a real need for the first U.S.-bound Alfa Romeo in a generation to be any good. All it needed to do was show up looking like a cross between the Giulia Sprint Speciale and the Tipo 33, and Alfa would have no problem moving the 1000 units per year or so destined for our shores. Instead what they’ve gone and done is created a delightful all-singing, all-dancing fizzy Italian alternative to the clinical and dare I say sterile-by-way-of-comparison Porsche Cayman. That’s how good the 4C is. The only bad part is that we have 8 more months until the 2014 Best Driver’s Car competition. Hope I can hold out that long.
Scanned lith print.
The first of three consecutive lith prints on different lithable papers treated exactly in the same way except for order in the lith developer and snatch point.
Mamiya 645 ProTL w/ M-S 45 mm/f2.8.
Feb 2013.
Adox CMS 20 in Adotech II (from the good old days when this extremely high resolution MF film still existed).
Lith printed on Foma Retrobrom Sp 151 (still lithable, emulsion batch nr 022948-01, you'd better hurry up and order some as I don't know when/if this paper will meet the same destiny as Fomatone which is dead as a lith paper from recent emulsion batches...).
Exposure time 80 sec. Developed as print #1 in Moersch Easy Lith (20A+20B+760H2O, 25-30°C), snatched after 6,5 min. Fixed in Moersch ATS alkaline fixer 1+9, 2,5 min.
Untoned.
I will probably also post this print after a short time in highly concentrated Se toner, which will get rid of the greenish tint in the shadows.
Anyone with experience from this paper? Similar good lithable properties as the fixed grade Oriental Seagull?
Wish all a nice summer weekend.
Scanned lith print.
Hasselblad 500C/M w/ Zeiss Distagon 50 mm/f4.
June 2024.
Fomapan 100 in Adonal 1+100, semistand 1 h.
Cropped neg lith printed on the new and yet again lithable Fomatone 131 FB (emulsion batch # 079648-02).
Dec 6, 2024.
Developed in Moersch Easy Lith Special Fomatone Edition (30A+25B+H2Oqs700).
Untoned.
Revisiting negs from the past summer as a first try out of the new FT paper.
Lithable: yes!
Snowballs: no (or?)
Cropping negs and not compensating enough for the light loss at greater magnification levels gives less colours, but still ok results. And isn't there a hint of snowballs on the hood, despite using Easy Lith Special Fomatone Edition?