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Sharing with you best Teachers day quotes messages. quoteskull.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/Teachers-day-qu...
I'm covering a co-workers desk this week while she's on holidays. And that means I'm extra slow getting the messages off her phone. Sorry 'bout that Tess!
114 Pictures in 2014
#11 Message
A message found in the Botanic Gardens, Brisbane.
"You are the / most incredible / thing that has / ever happened / to me."
Colossus was the world's first electronic, digital, programmable computer. Colossus and its successors were used by British codebreakers to help read encrypted German messages during World War II. They used thermionic valves (vacuum tubes) to perform the calculations.
While listening to music in bed I wrote the following comment about why a sleazy looking rocker appears in the video of my favourite anime song, Message in Rouge (Ru-ju no Dengon") by Matsutoya Yumin, which is used as the theme tune for Miyazaki Hayao's "Kiki's Delivery Service".
"Give up your philandering pronto, or I won't come home," is my translation of the titular message, that she sings that she wrote on the bathroom mirror.
I think that the man who appears in the video may even be the boyfriend who was a rocker, who Yumin married or at least someone impersonating him.
Here are images of the man, Matsutoya Masataka with round glasses and a buddy bowl hair cut.
www.google.com/search?q=%E6%9D%BE%E4%BB%BB%E8%B0%B7%E6%AD...
These days he is sometimes referred to as "Yumin's husband," and is rumoured to have been unfaithful more recently. It may be slightly less unacceptable in Japan since, in this matriarchy, women tend to think that men are permanent kids, or animals, who lack self control - the converse of the West.
That is why, in the song, Yumin is going to see her future husband's mother, to ask her to chastise him for his infidelity, and why she thinks he'll be panicking about his forthcoming chastisement. She may have been already married to him at the time, since it is a Matsutoya song, which is her family name by marriage to him.
Her song "Mamotte Agetai" (I'd Like to Protect You: YouTube search) was also similarly directed, I presume, at her husband, and has a similar, strange to me at the time I first heard it, matriarchal vibe.
The notion of writing a message on a mirror may in a sense occur repeatedly in Japanese mythology, and be a metaphor for consciousness where we, or our other half, writes messages (Freud, 1951; Derrida, 1987) on a mirror. As such, the message itself may be a sort of philandering, and at the same time, the cause of our fidelity: that which makes us "one flesh." In that sense I am always, making use of differance (Derrida, 2016) , to continue fidelandering, filandering, for short.
Or at least, I can use that as an excuse for my misspelling.
Derrida, J. (1987). The Post Card: From Socrates to Freud and beyond.
Derrida, J. (2016). Of Grammatology. JHU Press.
Freud, S. (1951). A note upon the" mystic writing-pad".
Since our boys weren't able to come with us on this trip, my wife and I photographed a few messages to them along the way... :)
Twice while I was driving, I got a blaring Emergency Alert System on my phone, and all it was was a message reminding us to lock our cars at night. That's not an emergency, Southold Police Department!
Le Messager
Oeuvre collective de Rémy Teulier et thierry Ehrmann in situ à la Demeure du Chaos se pose pour l'éternité au Musée d'Art Contemporain l'Organe, Headquarters Artprice.
Sculpture Marbre, 900 kilos issus d'une pierre brute de 10 tonnes.
Le Messager de Rémy TEULIER
D'emblée dès l'entrée de la 229ème édition du Salon des Artistes Français, qui se tient sous la nef du Grand Palais, il capte le regard, et l'espace d'un court moment test j'ai voulu vérifier : la plupart des visiteurs se dirigent spontanément vers lui... Le Messager est l'oeuvre du sculpteur Rémy Teulier...
C'est un marbre d'Izaourt, d'un seul tenant, taillé dans la masse, et ses dimensions sont impressionnantes, le messager est grandeur nature, 185 x 160 x 120.
Ses ailes sont déployées, ouvertes, matures, et cependant au repos. Mais on sent bien qu'il ne faudra pas grand chose pour qu'elles cherchent à prendre de la hauteur le moment venu comme celles de l'ange de la liberté...
Pour l'heure elles sont stables, attentives, posées, en prolongement d'un genou à terre et d'un autre en appui comme un pont, en écho d'une main tenant une équerre et de l'autre qui manie le compas, chacun des deux outils ancrés dans la matière...
Le cercle et le carré tracés rendent hommage à l'homme de Vitruve et aux socles classiques, le jeans, les baskets, le blouson et la capuche sont résolument dans le présent. Les temps se mêlent, le message n'a pas d'âge. Les courbes, les angles se répondent, les plis du sweat, les bords de la capuche prennent doucement le vent, on s'attend à remarquer ses narines respirer, ou son regard sciller, le marbre et l'esprit sont en osmose, la recherche est en cours, la concentration est introspection... Le crâne, simple vanité, place le curseur : le temps sur terre n'est qu'un passage et l'acacia présage une immortalité de l'âme...
Cette oeuvre m'a semblée magistrale, elle est à mon sens, mais c'est très subjectif et personnel, la plus captivante de l'exposition.
Elle est en noir et blanc, le noir du marbre, le blanc des veines de calcite qui le parcourent. Serait il le Zénon de Marguerite Yourcenar ?
La prouesse artistique est énorme, la sculpture est parfaite, attirante, elle appelle l'émotion.
Les strates du marbre semblent répondre aux degrés de cette merveilleuse sculpture : la base, massive, ramassée et étendue à la fois, le centre, infiniment humain, touchant de concentration, et la troisième dimension, symbolisée par ces ailes majestueuses, tirées vers le ciel et divines...
Le messager personnalise à mon regard la transmutation de la matière, le Grand Oeuvre est en cours. Là sous nos yeux le messager nous guide, l'esprit se libère des contingences, le marbre devient gracile et se moque de la pesanteur...
Le Messager de Rémy Teulier, Sculpteur
Merci à Rémy Teulier d'avoir répondu à nos questions, et bravo pour cette oeuvre magistrale, compagnonnique et maçonnique.
Nb : Au départ le bloc de marbre pesait dix tonnes, pour aboutir aux 800 kilos de la sculpture.
Texte issu du BLOG : Grelinettes et Cassolettes
www.grelinettecassolettes.com/2019/02/le-messager-de-remi...
Because Vilimas' mother wasn't able to make the trans-Atlantic journey to the wedding, she recorded a greeting to the bride and groom which played on a laptop at the reception.
The Saffron Finch, Sicalis flaveola (here, Brazil, canário-da-terra-verdadeiro). Minas Gerais' interior, Brazil.
This week is Postcard Week for me. Please see the adjacent image for the picture side of the card.
When my mother passed away in 2016, I came across a large number of postcards dating back to the 1940s. My family had lived in the same Victorian house since 1912 and hence there were many discoveries to be made. Reading the postcards, the social media messages of the day, has proven interesting, not to mention nostalgic, and I put out a display at my home where family gathered after Mum's cremation. Needless to say, elderly relatives could not recall where they went on holiday in 1951! It was something to lighten the mood of the day. This one was from my Aunt Margaret and her husband Dennis to my grandmother Florence Tyrrell. I notice that it is addressed in the old fashioned way of "Mrs W Tyrrell", the "W" being my grandfather Walter.
I hope that you will enjoy these images for what they are - part of the UK's social history.
Canon CanoScan LiDE 25.
Illustration by David Scurr
Soul Message
It was a regular morning, nothing new to report
on the day that I met my sinister cohort.
He appeared as a vision and slid by my computer;
you couldn't imagine a more delectable suitor.
He said he could make me more popular than god,
deliver tons of friends, hey, that was his job.
He'd stay with me, he was there to consult.
I said, "I hate to be rude, but it sounds like a cult".
He told me my quest and the name of the game,
he said that "messaging" would render me fame.
It wouldn't cost a thing, not even a dime,
all he needed at first, was a fraction of time. ;^}
"Oh really" I said, "How much time do you need?"
"The first installment he said, "was my first daily feed."
"My breakfast" I gasped, "that important first meal?"
Oh who cares, what the heck, I said "It's a deal!"
Hey, it was great, my popularity did abound.
I had gained lots of friends, and lost a few pounds.
But my companion grew hungry, he needed more.
He requested more time to settle the score.
I relinquished my job, my parents, my phone,
my baths, my hygiene, I would not be alone!
My messaging friends, they had to thrive.
They numbered one thousand, one hundred and five!
My personal time grew shorter and shorter,
my health was fading, my life had no order.
My eyes were bugged out, I never could sleep...
I couldn't get out, I had sunk way too deep.
The stakes now were doubled, and I had to lie.
I revealed in a post to one eager young guy,
I resembled Cindy Crawford, yeah, that was the truth!
I then turned to the side, and spat out a tooth!
This resembled the game in the garden of Eden,
I could not endure, I pleaded for freedom.
I turned from a woman to a dos shell of myself.
I turned towards my Adonis, he turned into an elf.
Oh, the elf wore a sneer, the most wicked of grins.
He spat at my face screaming "excess is a sin!"
He tossed me a blindfold and a last cigarette
saying "So tell me STUPID, did ya get the MESSAGE YET?
............Quasimodem