View allAll Photos Tagged memory
Memories from my childood
Taken for the "52 of Twenty Eleven" project. Week #3. Theme: memories...
As a child I loved this simple wooden colorful toy, and I still do love it! When I pull it all the balls start moving, rotating, waving... so simple but cool.
This strange "snail" is still with me after so many years. While I was pulling it to take the photo, keeping in my hands the short string, I recognized how small I was!
One more thing!!! I forgot before! My mother says I should add this small story to this photo. So, when I was already about 22 23 years old my mother gave to the kids of the neighbors a box full of old toys from me and my sister. My mother took this "snail" thinking that it was not useful anymore. Biiiiig mistake! I realized immediately that the snail was gone ..and ... in short, I could not resist and I went to the neighbors to get my snail back ... I think they laughed a lot about me ;) :D
40/52 Memory
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#selfportrait
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Sometimes I get glimpses of energies that drown me. Energies which I haven’t felt for a very long time. And before I can make a house out of them, they disappear. Those things are so fleeting and stun me, and in the memories I recollect from those moments in time, it feels safe to finally linger.
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And memory is a funny thing, isn’t it? How we can recollect some of them with a sweet longing immensity, and others which we rather just let go are so wondrous they stay with us forever, with a kind of detail capable of breaking any soul.
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And in that capacity to remember, to embrace what has already passed, we understand the simplicity of our hearts. How that boy that broke our heart and that girlfriend that betrayed us, how that tiny little decision of going out one night or fail at that exam has brought us right here, to this almighty moment where we are still able to recall it all so vividly.
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We are nothing without where we have been. Who we have met. Who we have loved, and lost, and touch and got hurt by. They all belong in waterfalls that recycle and recycle over and over what we have become. And I am so grateful for the hurt and for the love. And to be able to, through it all, still be able to have a kind of fire in me that pushes me to live with a kindred heart and a desire to do good.
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I have always known myself so very well through the mist of loneliness and wishful thinking, and I am but trying to always be and remain a cosmos of goodness for any soul and heart that wishes to know my own. 🌿
view on black L
The Teleidoscope - Week #5 - Memory.
note: I'm trying to catch up on the Teleidoscopes I've missed.
Yesterday you were sweet to me,
today as mean as one can be.
Tomorrow you'll forget who you used to be.
Texture: credits to skeletalmess.
The memories contained within this photo are too numerous to recount here. I painted this 16 x 48 inched painting of the Allen Family Farm in the late 70's for my dad, Ivan. It depicts the farm as I remembered it as a child in the late 50's. Part of the front of the old dairy barn that my brother, Charles, made a model of and posted for this Flicker Friday challenge can be seen to the right of the house. The second photo from the right shows my mom and dad next to the house in what I guess to be Easter 1945. I see this every time I enter my home office.
today is september 22, 2010.
my deepest vein will always be enlaced by the moon.
merry autumnal equinox!
memory #006
date of photograph: 12.23.2009
remnants remain.
glistening glass, crystal corpse, silver spoons, delicate dame...
you've got to remember, little darling, everything wanes.
Taken on Bonfire night in the UK. Two children excitedly with their lights came in front of this long exposure, giving a wonderful "ghosted" presence in the image.
It makes me think of childhood memories like this, that whilst fading over time, are embedded forever.
experimenting a bit.. my lovely sister as a model again :) This week I also hitted 30 000 views!!! Little steps forward :D
Taking a trip down memory lane with this repro. Just randomly browsing through my tomb of raw data from my USA Trip a few years back, life has been in fast forward since then and I haven't really had the chance to go back through them all (one day!). I came across this one from Monument Valley, and although this was the only taste I got of this area (due to timing and lighting conditions) I remember being in awe of such natural formations so close to major roads.
I think the rest of the Colorado Plateau region passed us by in darkness, for which people often mistake the connotation of the American "Wild Wild West".
This is a repro from an older verison...I think with some more post-shooting experience and from another angle (well not really but just having a look again!) its a lot better.
Monument Valley, USA.
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Photography by aRtphotojart
.Nature
> Thanks to all for your comments !!!
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An old shot at one fine evening at Tg Jara. Try to refresh this old memory with my Nikon D90
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© 2013 AhmadFahmi
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.