View allAll Photos Tagged memory
Memories are the treasures that we keep locked deep within the storehouse of our souls, to keep our hearts warm when we are lonely
Beauty that dies the soonest has the longest life. Because it cannot keep itself for a day, we keep it forever. Because it can hove existence only in memory, we give it immortality there
~Unknown~
Io sono figlia di un parrucchiere che ha tenuto un negozio a Napoli, in una zona ben frequentata per 50 lunghissimi anni e per di più di fronte ad un altro notissimo coiffeur.
Ma a mio padre le clienti non mancavano, eppure lui era un musone, parlava poco e niente, se aveva un'idea nel suo lavoro non la cambiava e non era affatto una persona malleabile e gli piaceva lavorare in libertà, gli piaceva sperimentare la sua arte e secondo me aveva un gran senso dell'estetica. Era non a caso anche un bravo pittore e fotografo.
Oggi il mio parrucchiere che sa io sono figlia di un suo collega, mi ha presa in giro perché per fare un taglio aveva diviso la testa della cliente in zone con treccine. Signora Pastore vostro padre se mi vedesse direbbe a che ce simm ridotti? Dividiamo la testa in zone per tagliare?
È vero. Mio padre come tutti i parrucchieri del suo tempo tagliava ad occhio, senza bisogno di progettare il taglio. Zac, zac, zac e via. Sempre tagli perfetti, senza sforbiciate, armonici.
Senza tecniche ma solo estro.
Ho visto questa "pupa" nel suo retrobottega, mi sono commossa.
Papà mio se le portava a casa queste testine e preparava le parrucche alle clienti che ne avevano bisogno.
E oggi era là, l'ho fotografata perché volevo farla vedere a mia sorella Francesca Pastore
Checca te le ricordi messe lì in cucina? Ti ricordi che ci facevano impressione?
Ah caro papà quanto ti abbiamo amato, ecco oggi lo vediamo fortissimamente.
Growing up, I loved watching my Mum prepare for an evening out-she looked glamourous and smelled like heaven...the faint scent of the gardenia following her...Isn't it strange how the memory of fragrances stay with us...
Mother, looking at family photos, and enjoying the distant memories they brought back. Moment captured January 28th, 2015 in Beloit, Wisconsin; USA.
Wanted to get out with the tent tonight but it was a little blowy and the tent is sadly lacking in the guy rope department.
I took the real memory out of its frame and replaced it with black cardboard. Framed up and waited for it to get dark.
Span the dome then lit the scene with my torch. Lastly a quick waft of the net curtain and rgb torch for a touch of fire.
This is number 119 of my 365.
This diptych, created from two rather dire old Kodachrome slides, is just self-indulgent nostalgia for me. It features McDonnell Douglas TF-15A Eagle 71-0291 in very smart U.S. bicentennial markings at the Farnborough Airshow in 1976.
I'm sentimental about it for several reasons. My Dad took me to airshows as a teenager, and although I think we went to the Farnborough show in 1974, this show in 1976 was the first where I had my own camera, the 'mighty' Kodak Instamatic 25! :o))
My Dad is long gone, but he'd have been 99 this year, and I have him to thank for my lifelong interests in both aircraft and photography. And little did I know then, that I would also end up living just a few miles from Farnborough Airport!
This shot of the Eagle landing reminds me of the unshakeable faith I had as a teenager that with an Instamatic camera I could capture photographs of flying aircraft that weren't going to be just black dots in the sky :o/ This is about the best of my efforts at the time.
The F-15 captured my imagination back then, and remains one of my favourite jet fighters to this day, especially the twin-seater :o) This particular aircraft was the second two seat prototype, and the model was redesignated from TF-15A to F-15B the following year.
Found by an abandoned house on the Canadian prairies. I can imagine the air filled with the joy and laughter of children playing. Now, the only sound is that of the wind through the grass.
thanks to skeletalmess for this cool texture
One of my favorites, such detail in the set... video cassette, disposable camera, and old-school film cartridge!
There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again. ~Elizabeth Lawrence
Explore #356 On July 14, 2008
"Gardening is one of the late joys, for youth is too impatient, too self-absorbed, and usually not rooted deeply enough to create a garden. Gardening is one of the rewards of middle age, when one is ready for an impersonal passion, a passion that demands patience, acute awareness of a world outside oneself, and the power to keep on growing through all the times of drought, through the cold snows, toward those moments of pure joy when all failures are forgotten and the plum tree flowers."
May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude, 1975
Painting, acrylics on wood. Background: Wanted to paint this for some time. Got the idea on a warm and calm summer day when I took a photo of my son, and the sea and the sky just seemed to blend together and it was not possible to see where one ended and one started.
صراع مع النفس //
يجب على الانسان تحديد اهدافة واعمالة ولن يحبط عند الفشل للوصول الى هدف ..
وإن كان الفشل ضعف ..
"بارادتك ايها الانسان تستطيع تحويل الفشل الى نجاح والضعف الى قوة
لاتدخل في متاهات التشاؤم ..فـسوف تصبح في دوامة التشكيك بالنفس الى الوصول الى حالة ..فقد الثقة !
كل الصعاب .. حجر اساسها يكون .. في ثقة الانسان بنفسة. وقدرتك ايها الانسان لـ مسك زمام الأمور
- لاتضعف عند موقف وتتجة الى التفكير بتغير اطباع جميلة وحسنة بسبب موقف او مشكلة..
وتترك سفينة النفس دون قائد ..
ولا تشكك بنفسك إن قرأت الصواب في عقلك.. ولاتستشير او تتأثر الا..
باصحاب التفكير الراجح ..
من كتاباتي القديمة ..
==
Canon 450D
Lens 100mm
Hazy Italian sunset.
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©2010 Stefano Carini Photography
I took this photo a Brooke Shaden's storytelling workshop in January 2012. I have really struggled with this photo, primarily because I back lit Olivia. I can't count the number of times I've lightened this.
I think I'm finally satisfied with it and the story I found myself telling myself over and over is this: the viewer is perhaps the surviving fiance, years later, catching a glimpse of his beloved in the house they were supposed to live in happily til they were old.
I grew up in a haunted house in a historic town. I've never found myself to like ghost stories because the modern take on them is too harsh and weird. However, one of my favorite books is a ghost story called Tamsin by Peter S. Beagle. The feel of the story, how real yet how so far away it seems, is what I love and what I hoped to portray here, as well as the feeling that what you're seeing will be gone in a moment.
model: Gloria Ephebe
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