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Theme: "A Letter from the Alphabet"
I have two little cousins that love to hear me telling them horror stories. The last time they visited, I invented this story, which I quite liked, so I decided to write it down and make this photo.
It was also really fun taking this shot. We actually went in some woods near midnight with a candle and a girl wrapped in a blanket. People should have thought all kinds of stuff!
Thank you so much for being such a weirdo with me, Giovanna!
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England, 1863. It was a late winter night. The cold wind blew through the large stone corridors of the Brocklehurst mansion. Not much could be seen, once several of the candles responsible for lightning the place were already dead. The brightest place in the whole house was the west-wing living room, inhabited by two siblings sitting by the fireplace, each one involved by a thick, brown blanket. Annabelle and Jonah were completely by themselves. Even though the family once was very influent and rich in the town, it all ended when their mother mysteriously passed away. Her body was found in the woods surrounding the house, with no apparent wound or signs of struggle. Her health was perfect and some sudden illness was very unlikely. Some would say her soul was taken by the dark spirits of the forest, as told by an old legend a lot of people refused to believe.
Since her death, the Lord Brocklehurst lost all his will to live. The businesses ran by generations in the family slowly decayed to almost inexistent levels. The mansion, once always brilliant and filled with maids, servants and delightful balls for the aristocracy, was now completely abandoned and infested with spiders, rats and dust. Some would say the Lord even lost his savvy. It was common enough to him to depart with no warning, leaving his children behind.
“I wonder when dad will come back this time.” Annabelle said to the air, clearly not paying attention anymore to the book her brother was reading for her. Jonah stopped, looked at the girl for a few seconds and closed the book soundly, making a cloud of dust rise from it.
“Don’t wait up too cheerfully.” he said, standing up and leading himself to the opposite side of the big room to give the book back to an immense bookcase filled with stories and tales, when the sharp scream of a girl made him drop it, as darkness engulfed everything.
“Calm down, Ann! What happened?!” said the tall young man, half-closing his eyes trying to adapt to the murk.
“The fireplace… It… It just went off out of nowhere!” she answered, with little sobs in her voice. The boy then found his way back to her side, making her skip a heartbeat when he hugged her. After calming Annabelle down, Jonah went to the next room and took a few half used candles.
“I’m sure it was just a wind gust.”
“It was not!” she answered, still with a trembling voice. “I was right here, I didn’t feel anything! It just… I think I saw something red in the fire and then it extinguished.” A chill went through her spine.
“Don’t be silly. Here, look.” He pointed to the fireplace. “The firewood just withered. We need some more.”
“But we ran out of it, brother… These were the last ones. It should have endured through the night…”
“Then… I’ll get more in the woods.”
A deep silence took place. Even though the stories were hard to believe, they didn’t enjoyed going in there, especially after their mother incident. But there was no option. They would definitely freeze without any fire.
“You stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He kissed Annabelle’s forehead, messed her hair, took the lamp and left the room. She heard him getting the axe, opening the huge front door and closing it.
Except for her own breathing and some whispers of the wind, the silence was absolute. She waited there, wrapped in the blanket, staring the nothingness.
(…)
The clock ticked for way too long. Something was definitely wrong. She was really scared, yes, but it scared her even more to lose the only one she had left. The last one who cared for her. Some of the wolves in the woods could have attacked him, even though it wasn’t common for them to come close to the house. She took the blanket, put the candle in a white porcelain saucer and left.
It was a full moon, but the clouds covered it almost completely. The leafless, lifeless trees danced conducted by the wind - a macabre corpse dance. The branches cracking with the movement created the eeriest symphony. Annabelle took a deep breath, swallowed the fear and went down the stairs which leaded to the wood’s entrance. Walking carefully amongst the branches laying in the ground, she started to look for her beloved brother. She couldn’t scream or make too much noise, because that could call the wolves’ attention. So the girl continued going deeper in the forest, with her path lightened by a simple candle, whispering Jonah’s name. She walked and walked with no sign of him. Then, a scream echoed in the woods. Annabelle froze, and so did the wind. It stopped completely, putting an end to the orchestra it leaded. She then realized she was way deeper inside the woods than any sane person would be. The trees were so dense she couldn’t even see the dim moon’s light hiding behind the clouds. All the available light was coming from the candle.
Then, with her ear now left in peace, she began to hear, far away, a gentle low voice calling for her.
“Annabelle…”
The girl ignored at first, but the calling was then repeated, a little louder. She recognized it coming from the southwest and began following it. As she went closer and closer to the source of her brother’s voice, it got louder, although it still was a whisper. Walking a little faster as she thought she would finally rendezvous, a glade revealed itself.
“Anabelle…”
She heard from the other side of it. Walking cautiously, she kept following the voice.
“Annabelle…”
When the girl reached the center, a weird feeling made her stop. She felt someone right behind her. She could feel its presence… Its heat. The hot breath right on her neck.
“ANNABELLE.”
It was no longer her brother’s voice. It was a scratchy, cold and rough voice, the mix of an old man in his deathbed with the growl of a dreadful monster. She screamed and began to run desperately, leaving behind the blanket right where the thing talked to her. The girl didn’t look back; there was no need to see whatever it was that was there. And this way she continued, running as fast as she could, crying and protecting the light – her guide.
After running for what she thought being a few miles, Annabelle found herself in another glade. As the weak light revealed the path in front of her, she saw something. It looked like Jonah lying in the ground. Desperately, she ran to it and when tried to hug it, the girl realized it was just a blanket. Her own blanket. The same one she left exactly there in her first escape. “I had ran in circles… Stupid tricky forest!”, she thought. Then she continued walking, determined to leave that dark hell and ask for help finding Jonah. She walked into miles, feeling devastated and confused, when another glade was found. The same nightmare was repeated. Again, she was in the same place, even though she walked a straight path. Nearly exhausted, she couldn’t give up… Not yet...
She ran.
(…)
For the third time, there she was again. The same glade. Annabelle picked up the blanket, wrapped herself inside it, sat down and started to cry.
“It will be alright…” she tried to comfort herself. “I’ll just wait here until dawn comes… Then I’ll find my way back.” She thought of her brother. Would he be trapped just like she was? Maybe he just couldn’t find his way back. Yes, they would find each other again. They would be together again. They would.
She stayed there waiting for the time pass by. Obviously, she couldn’t sleep – her nerves wouldn’t allow her. So, with a low, faint voice, she began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her in stormy nights. Her heart was calmed. She felt like her mother was there for her.
Suddenly, a bell rang far away, making Annabelle goggle her eyes on its direction. Eleven times that bell was ringed. It was the town’s old clock, telling everyone that the eleventh hour has come.
“Just a few more hours… Everything will be fine.” she thought.
A cold, lonely and singing hour later, the clock once again made its announcement. The girl counted the bangs.
Midnight had come.
Together with the twelfth strike, hundreds of crows flew from the woods in a skyward direction, creating a terribly loud noise that made her hide inside her blanket. Breathing fast, heart pounding in her throat, all she could think about for comfort was her brother’s face. She would find him. All would just become a terrible night dark. She prayed.
When everything became quiet again, she slowly began to uncover her eyes. Lifting the blanket, she discovered a pair of blood colored spheres staring at her. Her heart stopped. A death cold breath invaded the blanket, freezing her spine.
“ANNABELLE!”
Darkness.
To this very day, these woods are haunted. No one dares to enter the place. It is said that every full moon, exactly at midnight, it’s possible to hear a lonely lullaby coming from the woods. If it’s dark enough, a wandering dim candle light, held by the poor Annabelle, can also be seen.
Jonah found his way back into the mansion that night, finding it empty. Nothing had happened to him. He came back in a few minutes, just like he said he would.
The young man and the entire town searched for Annabelle, but she or her body were never found. She is still trapped there, for all eternity, looking for him, aided only by a candle. The clock she hears every hour always tell that the midnight has come. And it will never go away.
Today's is Mother's Day. I fully intended to photograph my mother & grandmother but that didn't happen ): I'll be photographing my grandma and her husband soon though. This is me without makeup, all natural. Well minus my bleached hair x] I figured I have to throw some of me in my 365 project sometimes whether they're artistic or not.
Olympus E510 + Zuiko 50mm f1.8
Une triste et monotone branche secouée par le vent... Un 50mm à grande ouverture, du bokeh, et une profondeur de champ au minimum pour rendre à la nature la beauté qui lui appartient.
I just scanned some film from my birthday so I will be posting photos from that glorious day over the next few days. My friend Alli got to meet this sweet newlywed couple on the Metro. They had just moved to L.A. and hadn't had the best experience but I think seeing us changed their impression! I really think it's important to love your city. The good, the bad and the ugly. Can you imagine the impact it can have?
I can.
Happy Saturday!
Pentax ME Super
Fuji 200
(showing off my new 50mm lens)
This is a digi image from Tiffany Doodles. I love how the Penny Black "Zen" background really jazzes up this card. More details on my blog. :)
Colorful tapes make it easy to locate the hatchet when you accidentally drop it in a forest.
Gransfors Bruk Wildlife Hatchet, cotton bar tapes by Newbaums (blue) and Viva (orange), hemp twine (shellaced).
森の中で落とした時に見つけやすいように手斧の柄の部分をカラフルにしてみた。
手斧（Gransfors Bruk社製）、自転車用バーテープ（青はNewbaums、橙はViva）、麻紐（セラックニス塗布）
From the series «Faces of Old Arbat»
Moscow: Street photos - senseless and merciless :)
Camera: Canon EOS 5 // Lens: Canon EF 28-105 1:3.5-4.5 USM
Film: Lomography Color Negative 100 35mm
Photo taken: 22/07/2017
Scanner: Pakon F235+
Karo like to make all kind of things in the lower lip: flowers, leaves, feathers, nails!
Last month when i visited Korcho village in Karo tribe, tension was high: the tribe had a fight with the Nyangatom who live on the other side of the Omo river, and one man was killed. A cattle problem as usual. So the Karos know the Nyangatom will attack them, as revenge is the base of the relationship in the area!
The Karo (or Kara), with a population of about 1000 - 1500 live on the east banks of the Omo River in south Ethiopia.
Their neighbors are the Hamar,Bana,Bashada,the famous Mursi and Nyangatom (on the other side of Omo river, who are their enemies ) . They speak a south Omotic language.
The Karo grow sorghum ,maize and beans .
Karo use to paint body and decorate their face. They use white chalk, charcoal, ochre and red earth.. Karo women scarify their chests to beautify themselves .The scarification of a man's chest shows that he has killed an enemy or a dangerous animal. The scars are done with a knife or razor blade and ash is rubbed into.
The wearing of a grey and ochre clay headdress also indicates the killing of an enemy or a dangerous animal. Hamar do the same.
The women have a very nice hairdress: they put red clay mixed with butter and fat in their hair, so that the hair looks like a bunch of coffee beans. Women still wear leather clothing made from animal skins.
The men all use a wood headrest to protect their hair bun, and they use it too to sit.
They love to rest under the men house, the chifo. At the end of the harvest and at times of initiation and marriage, the Karo come together to enjoy dances with a lot of local beer. These happy times often lead to marriage after the young man has successfully accompling the bull jumping. A Karo man may take as many wives as he can afford, but usually he marries two or three.
Les Karos (ou Karas) sont environs 100-1500 à vivire sur la rive est du fleuve Omo en Ethiopie du Sud. Leurs voisins sont les Hamars, Banas, Bashadas,Mursis, et les Nyangatom qui vivent de l’autre cote du fleuve et qui sont leurs ennemis de longue date. Les Karos cultivent du sorgo, du mais et des haricots.
Les Karos sont fameux pour leurs peintures corporelles et les décorations qu’ils portent. Ils utilisent de la craie, du charbon, et de la terre pour se dessiner des motifs sur le corps.
© Eric Lafforgue
I used to make custom motorcycle speedometer faces, (Alien Faces) and this is one that I made for a customer. (These were high resolution printed inserts that was placed OVER your original speedometer face)
He had a WWII P-51 Mustang airplane theme and wanted something fit the theme.
We talked about it in e-mail and came up with this, he just had a vague idea as to what he wanted.
His motorcycle had a custom paint job on it that had bullet holes and some intentional paint wear, rust, damage, exhaust smudge etc. So, that is what he wanted to continue on this.
I know that those with a sharp eye will see that the two gauges have (digitally painted) glass over them. The inner face has broken (digitally painted) glass over it too, AND, not just that, but there was some REAL glass over these. :)
So, that part, while hokey, he loved it, and we both knew it was WAY over the top, but he wanted it that way, so...
Also, in real life if those bullet holes were from a German plane, the holes would be larger, so practically NONE of what you see is realistic. (These are .22 caliber size)
In my mind I designed this to be like an old plane that was in a plane boneyard and was rusting for years and he came along and saved it. That was how I looked at it, and realism is what I aimed for, although, nothing was realistic in 'real life'. :)
I learned how to do rust, and age things while making this.
This was all done in Photoshop after looking online at how planes (especially P-51's) gauges looked. Actually, I couldn't find one, so I looked at other plane gauges and just went with it.
He was ex-Air Force so he had to have the Air Force star, and he also wanted the small type in small print about, "War Bird", his bike. (See circular print in the inner ring)
He won some contests with his bike, I saw it in a magazine once.
I did several that were in magazines actually, I had a really good business while it lasted.
(Another guy saw this and wanted one for his bike and he had been a Tomcat pilot, so I made him one for that, I had several pilots actually)
Anyway, yeah, it's not realistic, but you just have to open your mind, or, have a shot of tequila, whichever. :)
This is the gate as you are leaving the Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove right outside of Asheville, North Carolina - i just thought it was a beautiful winter scene - hope you enjoy it , too.
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Well, so far so good - my sweet little Mother-in-law came through her surgery - the doctor seems to think everything went well - he took some of her small intestines and said things were running when he closed her up - it took her a good while to wake up - we got home around 3;15 this morning - surgery was finshed around 9:15. It was a long wait - but she is back in her room in the hospital and knew all of us when we got to see her before leaving - we will be going back over sometime later today. Thanks again for all your precious prayers - they were certainly answered. Blessings to each and everyone of you. Smiles from a tired but thankful Nana :) ! ~
“Light makes photography. Embrace light. Admire it. Love it. But above all, know light. Know it for all you are worth, and you will know the key to photography.” – George Eastman
💖 Love the illusive 💡 lighting in this ️ picture… What other vibes do you get from this 💡 lighting?
Don’t forget to share with your friends.
f/5.6, 1/2000 sec, ISO-8000
#birdsofpreyphotography #birds_photography_offical #birdphotography #birdwatching #osprey
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