View allAll Photos Tagged memory
... as we walk in fields of gold
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太魯閣號的行李架，宛如一卷底片，承載著記憶，隨著旅人，一路北上。
The luggage rack of the train was reflected as film sprockets which carries beautiful memories with the traveler, heading towards home.
Mum made this rug using clothes I had outgrown. The blue is school uniform, the green a tracksuit, the stripes a t-shirt etc... Actually for a while the t-shirt was worn by Big Ted, before he upgraded to a SuperTed costume (also made by mum).
The only thing not worn by me is the unbelievably awful and uncomfortable 1970s bright pink NYLON bedsheets!!
120-marie002
Memory fades as life goes on.
technically this picture is a pure failure : blur of moving subject, blur of misfocusing, blur of lowspeed and handheld.
But...
The roll stood undevelopped during 6 years, carefully stocked in
my fridge, because I knew there were on it some pictures from someone who left us few month later. I was afraid of destroying them with my manual process.
thanks to a good friend (God bless him), Theses pictures are safe. But this one grew on me. The movement of my little girl, the general blur with only this tiny part of shoes less blurred than the picture, appeared to me as a picture of time going on. Our memory fades, details disapear, but the mood stays.
Carpe Diem, sed habeo, non habeor.
Amici, diem non perdidi.
'Old house in photos is where Cliff was born. New house was a 2 storey built in 1941'
Part of the Jackie Bleecker Album
Note: Commercial use of this image is prohibited without CDHS permission. All CDHS Flickr content is available for personal use providing our Rights Statement is followed:
I hand write postcards and attach my photos to the adhesive backing. And yes, I realize that email, text, or FB would allow an instantaneous sharing of my words and pics. But I believe there is still joy to be found in opening a mailbox and finding a long ago memory.
ODC: low tech
Holy Family and St Michael, Kesgrave, Ipswich, Suffolk
A new entry on the Suffolk Churches site.
There are ages of faith which leave their traces in splendour and beauty, as acts of piety and memory. East Anglia is full of silent witnesses to tides which have ebbed and flowed. Receding, they leave us in their wake great works from the passing ages, little Norman churches which seem to speak a language we can no longer understand but which haunts us still, the decorated beauty of the 14th Century at odds with the horrors of its pestilence and loss, the perpendicular triumph of the 15th Century church before its near-destruction in the subsequent Reformation and Commonwealth, the protestant flowering of chapels and meeting houses in almost all rural communities, and most obvious of all for us today the triumphalism of the Victorian revival.
But even as tides recede, piety and memory survive, most often in quiet acts and intimate details. The catholic church of Holy Family and St Michael at Kesgrave is one of their great 20th Century treasure houses.
At the time of the 1851 census of religious worship, Kesgrave was home to just 86 people, 79 of whom attended morning service that day, giving this parish the highest percentage attendance of any in Suffolk. However, they met half a mile up the road at the Anglican parish church of All Saints, and the current site of Holy Family was then far out in the fields. In any case, it is unlikely that any of the non-attenders was a Catholic. Today, Kesgrave is a sprawling eastern suburb of Ipswich, home to about 10,000 people. It extends along the A12 corridor all the way to Martlesham, which in turn will take you pretty much all the way to Woodbridge without seeing much more than a field or two between the houses.
Holy Family was erected in the 1930s, and serves as a chapel of ease within the parish of Ipswich St Mary. However, it is still in private ownership, the responsibility of the Rope family, who, along with the Jolly family into which they married, owned much of the land in Kesgrave that was later built on.
The growth of Kesgrave has been so rapid and so extensive in these last forty years that radical expansions were required at both this church and at All Saints, as well as to the next parish church along in the suburbs at Rushmere St Andrew. All of these projects are interesting, although externally Holy Family is less dramatic than its neighbours. It sits neatly in its trim little churchyard, red-brick and towerless, a harmonious little building if rather a curious shape, of which more in a moment. Beside it, the underpass and roundabout gives it a decidedly urban air. But this is a church of outstanding interest, as we shall see.
It was good to come back to Kesgrave. As a member of St Mary's parish I generally attended mass at the parish's other church, a couple of miles into town, but I had been here a number of times over the years, either to mass or just to wander around and sit for a while. These days, you generally approach the church from around the back, where you'll find a sprawling car park typical of a modern Catholic church. To the west of the church are Lucy House and Philip House, newly built for the work of the Rope family charities. Between the car park and the church there there is a tiny, formal graveyard, with crosses remembering members of the Rope and Jolly families.
Access to the church is usually through a west door these days, but if you are fortunate enough to enter through the original porch on the north side you will have a foretaste of what is to come, for to left and right are stunning jewel-like and detailed windows depicting St Margaret and St Theresa on one side and St Catherine and the Immaculate Conception on the other. Beside them, a plaque reveals that the church was built to the memory of Michael Rope, who was killed in the R101 airship disaster of 1930.
Blue Peter-watching boys like me, growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, were enthralled by airships. They were one of those exciting inventions of a not-so-distant past which were, in a real sense, futuristic, a part of the 1930s modernist project that imagined and predicted the way we live now. And they were just so big. But they were doomed, because the hydrogen which gave them their buoyancy was explosive.
As a child, I was fascinated by the R101 airship and its disaster, especially because of that familiar photograph of its wrecked and burnt-out fuselage sprawled in the woods on a northern French hillside. It is still a haunting photograph today. The crash of the R101 put an end to airship development in the UK for more than half a century.
Of course, this is all ancient history now, but in the year 2001 I had the excellent fortune to be shown around Holy Family by Michael Rope's widow, Mrs Lucy Doreen Rope, née Jolly, who was still alive, and then in her nineties. She was responsible for the building of this church as a memorial to her husband. We paused in the porch so that I could admire the windows. "Do you like them?" Mrs Rope asked me. "Of course, my sister-in-law made them."
Her sister-in-law, of course, was Margaret Agnes Rope, who in the first half of the twentieth century was one of the finest of the Arts and Craft Movement stained glass designers. She studied at Birmingham, and then worked at the Glass House in Fulham with her cousin, Margaret Edith Aldrich Rope, whose work is also here. But their work can be found in churches and cathedrals all over the world. What Mrs Rope did not tell me, and what I found out later, is that these two windows in the porch were made for her and her husband Michael as a wedding present.
Doreen Jolly and Michael Rope were married in 1929. Within a year, he was dead. Mrs Rope was just 23 years old.
The original church from the 1930s is the part that you step into. You enter to the bizarre sight of a model of the R101 airship suspended from the roof. The nave altar and tabernacle ahead are in the original sanctuary, and you are facing the liturgical east (actually south) of the original building, and what an intimate space this must have been before the church was extended. Red brick outlines the entrance to the sanctuary, and here are the three windows made by Margaret Rope for the original church. The first is the three-light sanctuary window, depicting the Blessed Virgin and child flanked by St Joseph and St Michael. Two doves sit on a nest beneath Mary's feet, while a quizzical sparrow looks on. St Michael has the face of Michael Rope. The inscription beneath reads Pray for Michael Rope who gave up his soul to God in the wreck of His Majesty's Airship R101, Beauvais, October 5th 1930.
Next, a lancet in the right-hand side of the sanctuary contains glass depicting St Dominic, with a dog running beneath his feet and the inscription Laudare, Benedicere, Praedicare, ('to praise, to bless, to preach'). The third window is in the west wall of the church (in its day, the right hand side of the nave), depicting St Thomas More and St John Fisher, although at the time the window was made they had not yet been canonised. The inscription beneath records that the window was the gift of a local couple in thankfulness for their conversion to the faith for which the Blessed Martyrs Thomas More and John Fisher gave their lives. A rose bush springs from in front of the martyrs' feet.
By the 1950s, Holy Family was no longer large enough for the community it served, and it was greatly expanded to the east to the designs of the archtect Henry Munro Cautley. Cautley was a bluff Anglican of the old school, the retired former diocesan architect of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich, but he would have enjoyed designing a church for such an intimate faith community, and in fact it was his last major project before he died in 1959. The original sanctuary was retained as a blessed sacrament chapel, and the church was turned ninety degrees to face east for the first time. The north and south sides of the new church received three-light Tudor windows in the style most beloved by Cautley, as seen also at his Ipswich County Library in Northgate Street, and the former Fosters (now Lloyds) Bank in central Cambridge.
Although the Rope family had farmed at Blaxhall near Wickham Market for generations, Margaret Rope herself was not from Suffolk at all, and nor was she at first a Catholic. She was born in Shrewsbury in 1882, the daughter of Henry Rope, a surgeon at Shrewsbury Infirmary, and a son of the Blaxhall Rope family. The largest collection of Margaret Rope's glass is in Shrewsbury Cathedral. When Margaret was 17, her father died. The family were received into the Catholic church shortly afterwards. A plaque was placed in the entrance to Shrewsbury Infirmary to remember her father. When the hospital was demolished in the 1990s, the plaque was moved to here, and now sits in the north aisle of the 1950s church. In her early days in London Margaret Rope designed and made the large east window at Blaxhall church as a memorial to her grandparents. It features her younger brother Michael, and is believed to be the only window that she ever signed.
In her early forties, Margaret Rope took holy orders and entered the Carmelite Convent at nearby Woodbridge, but continued to produce her stained glass work until the community moved to Quidenham in Norfolk, when poor health and the distances involved proved insurmountable. She died there in 1953, and so she never saw the expanded church. Her cartoons, the designs for her windows, are placed on the walls around Holy Family. Some are for windows in churches in Scotland and Wales, one for a window in the English College in Rome. Among them are the roundels for within the enclosure of Tyburn Convent in London. "They had to remove the windows there during the War", said Mrs Rope. "Of course, with me, you have to ask which war!"
Turning to the east, we see the new sanctuary with its high altar, completed in 1993 as part of a further reordering and expansion, which gave a large galilee porch, kitchen and toilets to the north side of the church. The window above the new sanctuary has three lights, and the two outer windows were made by Margaret Rope for the chapel of East Bergholt convent to the south of Ipswich. They remember the Vaughan family, into which Margaret Rope's sister had married, and in particular one member, a sister in the convent, to celebrate her 25 year jubilee.
The convent later became Old Hall, a famous commune. They depict the prophet Isaiah and King David.
The central light between them is controversial. Produced in the 1990s and depicting the risen Christ, it really isn't very good, and provides the one jarring note in the church. It is rather unfortunate that it is in such a prominent position. It is not just the quality of the design that is the problem. It lets in too much light in comparison with the two flanking lights. "The glass in my sister-in-law's windows is half an inch thick", Mrs Rope told me. "In the workshop at Fulham they had a man who came in specially to cut it for them". The glass in the modern light is simply too thin.
Despite the 1990s extension, and as so often in modern urban Catholic churches, Holy Family is already not really big enough, although it is hard to see that there could ever be another expansion. We walked along Munro Cautley's south aisle, and at that time the stations of the cross were simple wooden crosses. However, about three months after my conversation with Mrs Rope, the World Trade Centre in New York was attacked and destroyed, and among the three thousand people killed were two local Kesgrave brothers who were commemorated with a new set of stations in cast metal.
Here also is a 1956 memorial window by Margaret Rope's cousin, Margaret Edith Aldrich Rope, to Mrs Rope's mother Alice Jolly, depicting the remains of the shrine at Walsingham and the Jolly family at prayer before it. Another MEA Rope window is across the church in the galilee, a Second World War memorial window, originally on the east side of the first church before Cautley's extension. It depicts three of the English Martyrs, Blessed Anne Lynne, Blessed Robert Southwell and Blessed John Robinson, as well as the shipwreck of Blessed John Nutter off of Dunwich, with All Saints church on the cliffs above.
The galilee is designed for families with young children to play a full part in mass, and is separated from the church by a glass screen. At the top of the screen is a small panel by Margaret Rope which is of particular interest because it depicts her and her family participating in the Easter vigil, presumably in Shrewsbury Cathedral. This is hard to photograph because it is on an internal window between two rooms.
A recent addition to the Margaret Edith Aldrich Rope windows here is directly opposite, newly installed on the south side of the nave. It was donated by her great-nephew. It depicts a nativity scene, the Holy Family in the stable at Bethlehem, an angel appearing to shepherds on the snowy hills beyond. It is perhaps her loveliest window in the church.
Finally, back across the church. Here, beside the brass memorial to Margaret Rope, is a window depicting the Blessed Virgin and child, members of the Rope family in the Candlemas procession beneath. The inscription reminds us to pray for the soul of Sister Margaret of the Mother of God, mistress of novices and stained glass artist, Monastery of the Magnificat of the Mother of God, Quidenham, Norfolk, entered Carmel 14th September 1923, died 6th December 1953. Sister Margaret of the Mother of God was, of course, Margaret Rope herself. She was buried in the convent at Quidenham, a Shrewsbury exile at rest in the East Anglian soil of her forebears. The design is hers, and the window was made by her cousin Margaret Edith Aldrich Rope.
Back in 2001, we were talking about the changing Church, and I asked Mrs Rope what she thought about the recently introduced practice of transferring Holy Days on to the nearest Sunday, so that the teaching of them was not lost. Mrs Rope approved, a lady clearly not stuck in the past. She had a passion for ensuring that the Faith could be shared with children. As we have seen, her church is designed so that young families can take a full part in the Mass. But she was sympathetic to the distractions of the modern age. "The world is so exciting for children these days", she said. "I think it must be difficult to bring them up with a sense of the presence of God." She smiled. "Mind you, my son is 70 now! And I do admire young girls today. They have such spirit!"
She left me to potter about in her wonderful treasure house. As I did so, I thought of medieval churches I have visited, which were similarly donated by the Mrs Ropes of their day, perhaps even for husbands who had died young. They not only sought to memorialise their loved ones, but to consecrate a space for prayer, that masses might be said for the souls of the dead. This was the Catholic way, a Christian duty. Before the Reformation, this was true in every parish in England. It remained true here at Kesgrave.
And finally, back outside to the small graveyard. Side by side are two crosses. One remembers Margaret Edith Aldrich Rope, artist, 1891-1988. The other remembers Lucy Doreen Rope, founder of this church, 1907-2003.
a better description of what's going on.
Frankie isn't like everyone else around her she is constantly plagued by memories of people she's never even met! On her first day at Monster High she immediately gets on the Monster Mafia's bad side when she steals Clawd Wolf away from Draculaura at her 16 birthday. Now she's locked in an eternal conflict both in school and in her mind. Will she survive?
It'll be a while before the first episode is up but hope everyone enjoyed this! Love y'all ♥
by Eduardo Kobra
Inspired by Alfred Eisenstaedts famous 1945 photograph
"V-J Day in Times Square"
West 25th Street & 10th Avenue
Manhattan, New York
In memory of San Francisco Fire Department Lieutenant Vincent Perez and Firefighter - Paramedic Anthony Valero who were fatally injured while fighting a house fire on June 2 2011 , Coit Tower was bathed in red light. Coit Tower exists in great part due to a bequeathment by Lillie Hitchcock Coit (1842 - 1929), a wealthy wacky woman of San Francisco who greatly admired the Fire Department. It is probably no small coincidence Coit Tower greatly resembles the nozzle of a firehouse.
RIP, Firemen, and thank you for your hard work and dedication. Your sacrifice won't be forgotten.
Our memory is a landscape, our bodies are its map. We can trace lines with our fingers that will take us down roads, we can find markings that symbolize a monument in our past; these are our scars.
For a series on mapping, I took to photographing the physical and psychological impression scars leave on a person. The ambiguity of the physical in the photograph is to pair with the ambiguity of the quote, not depicting the incident or injury, but acting as a brief view into the human psyche. Rather than romanticized and sensationalized, the photographs are gritty depictions of gritty truths.
The series Memory Markings has been made into a limited edition book which can be bought at Toronto's Gladstone Hotel briefly.
60 / 120. I remember ....
When I was a child in this neighborhood, the rule among most families was to "return home when the streetlights come on". Until then we ran and rode our bicycles freely through the streets on warm summer evenings - but as soon as those lights went on we would scatter and head for our homes quickly! Many things have changed here over the years, but these lights are the same ... provoking a nice memory when I visited recently ....
My brother and sister gave me this rose in a pot in memory of my late husband. The first bloom came well ahead of the usual flowering season.
'Memory' by Humphrey King & Zzzero-X / contians elements of 'ArtFan07' by uvw916a www.flickr.com/photos/25023895@N02/7205794132/
"The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten."
Cesare Pavese (1908-1950), Italian poet, novelist
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Rückseite: "Zum Andenken von Ihrer Kollegin Rosa Mayrhofer. München."
Riverse Side: "In memory from your colleague Rosa Mayrhofer. Munich."
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
~ Ralph Acosta
You left me lost and broken,
I still can’t find my way.
Months have passed real slowly,
But it’s harder every day.
I will never forget you,
Though we are far apart,
I miss you so much,
And love you with all my heart.
As the nights start to get longer and you can feel a chill in the air the scorching heat of the summer seems a distant memory.
The Hall of Memory is a war memorial in Centenary Square, Birmingham, England, designed by S. N. Cooke and W. N. Twist. Erected 1922–25 by John Barnsley and Son, it commemorates the 12,320 Birmingham citizens who died in World War I.
Tissue Memory
© 2013 Kristine Jabbour
Even when the mind forgets
The body remembers.
Put in a certain position
I’ve ground my teeth in rage
Put in another and tears have spouted
A hot spring newly excavated.
In another I’m in bliss, as if born for this.
All the while, my mind is in the dark
No inkling as to why I have these reactions.
1000 hours in meditation might
Illuminate these mysteries
But I probably don’t want to know.
My body is releasing its reservoirs of poison
On its own, in its time, without supervision
And I suspect it’s protecting my conscious self
Knowing how fragile it is
Despite its arrogant bravado.
They say the mind controls the body
But I don’t think that’s completely true.
Whenever my mind falls short
It’s my body that carries me home.