View allAll Photos Tagged metaphors
Manchester UK. "The next stop is Deansgate" will be a familiar announcement to tens of thousands of people who visit Manchester every week either for work or leisure.
Depending on which view you take these shots are either iconic or a cliche. They are the first couple of shots that many photographers shoot when thy visit the city after getting off the train. I took the train into Manchester in February with the specific aim of shooting some of the icons but I also wanted to include people in my images. So, whilst I don't claim that either of these images are in any way groundbreaking they are what I saw on that day and for me they make a nice pair. I like this shot for lots of reasons. Firstly I think it’s quietly spectacular but most people will pass by without even thinking about it. Secondly, there is a nod to “work in progress” which is certainly a metaphor for Manchester. Finally I like the fine detail, like the huge bike vs the normal ones lined up. And don’t forget to look left……👍
Ish 58:12)
Ish 8:13-20)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PnXcP8ZI7M
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvtysMcgGik
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jpab7t9tmPo
In the song, sailing can be understood as a metaphor for finding an activity that clears a person’s mind. There is another line in the song, which refers to painting: The canvas can do miracles. According to Cross, the song’s lyrics also speak about the transformative power of art.
It’s not far to never never land
No reason to pretend
And if the wind is right you can find the joy
Of innocence again
Oh, the canvas can do miracles
Just you wait and see, believe me
Poor Eunice died in hope. A noble way to be remembered, even if not fully accurate. Guess it depends on what you were hoping for at the time you passed. The cynical side of me wonders if her hope was not to die. Eunice's legacy boils down to the few words carved into the old gravestone. They endure today only through great luck that the stone has not been toppled or shattered. I feel weirdly connected to Eunice at some level. We lived in the same village, although over a century apart. Perhaps she walked her in her day as I do in mine.
Eunice's grave is part of the rich mosaic of this cemetery. I see her name on nearly every visit here. This stone is a constant, but my reaction varies. Sometimes I notice it more than others. Depends on my mindset, the time of day, or the time of year. Sometimes even the direction I am walking or my angle of view influences my thought process. On this foggy morning I was struck by the starkness of the stone amid a damp and misty landscape. The residual leaves of October slowly decomposing in the gaining light of February. Another year passed, and Eunice's dying hope fades ever so slightly.
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∎ Created with Midjourney, further edited with Topaz Photo AI
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[...] Buried by their building lay the hideous bodies; it is said that Mother Earth, soaked in the blood of her children, became wet.
She then filled the still warm blood with life and transformed it into the shape of humans so that the memory of her descendants would not be completely lost.
But that brood also despised the heavenly ones, thirsted for brutal murder and was violent; after all, it was born of blood. [...]
Source: ovid-metamorphosen-giganten
∎ Ovid | 20 March 43 BC – AD 17/18
Timmendorfer Strand, Germany, 2020
Raising a red flag is a metaphor indicating imminent danger. Human nature obviously loves overdoing things :-)
Autumn fills me with a sense of conclusion. The death of summer marks the end of another year much more profoundly than watching a ball drop on New Year's Eve. The spectacular autumnal hues are simultaneously wonderful and sad. I marvel in their splendor but am saddened to watch them slip away with each passing day. These are things I've always felt at some level. It just seems more intense in recent years as I grow older, and perhaps become more sensitive to such things. Maybe attuned is a better word. My senses are much keener (at times anyway). I notice things I once missed. I appreciate things I once tossed over. Autumn in the cemetery brings on stunning visual metaphors for the passage of life. Generations have passed since this stone was set. Many decades worth of autumn leaves have erupted here, only to be swept away by the cold winds of December. The stone is weathered and the inscription faded. It's got perhaps a few years to go before it topples and cracks. The lifecycle grinds on.
This transcendent moment of morning perfection was gifted to me by Lake Tahoe on my last day this past visit. Please do view this one Large on Black.
The older generation thought nothing of getting up at five every morning - and the younger generation doesn't think much of it either.
~John J. Welsh
Image Notes: This image is a blend of an hdr made from 5 frames 1 EV apart (tone-mapped in Dynamic-Photo HDR) layered over the second darkest exposure of those five with a slight bit of vignetting applied along the way. Also, the just rising sun was positioned directly behind the small structure to create a bloom effect and add to the vignette.
It's a grand old metaphor.
The tree is old and straggly.
I'm old and straggly.
The tree has lost it's foliage.
I've lost my foliage.
The tree is standing alone in the middle of nowhere.
I'm standing alone in the middle of nowhere.
The tree has a big branch pointing skyward.
I have.........
And so the poor metaphor endeth.
This is directly opposite the Frolicking Field, just outside The Middle of Nowhere, South Australia, Australia.
Sorry I haven't been round to visit everyone. I'm slowly getting there.
Best viewed large: www.flickr.com/photos/davidh3160/3406154937/sizes/l/
A dystopian view of the future? A critical commentary on the nature of large cities? A metaphor for the cogitating mind itself? Or, perhaps a suggestion of a coming out of darkness via the quantum world view. Any or all of the above ...
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Music Link: "Tales of the Future", Vangelis - from the "Blade Runner" soundtrack ( Vangelis ). Featuring the eery, otherworldly voice of Demis Roussos, former bandmate of Vangelis when he was with the Greek experimental group Aphrodite's Child. There's something almost Qawali about Roussos's singing here, reminding one of Nusrat Fateh Ali Kkan, but put into the context of the darkness of the film and as an adjunct to this image here it takes on a creepy, almost hair-raising quality.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaDdbBNgahI
View Large on Black.
A metaphor to explain the MOOD of my week. The first few days were turbulent, but now it’s Friday and things are looking a lot calmer.
media-sl.com/2020/07/23/metaphor-jessica-new/
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Green and red, the county's colours, displayed on a damaged barn. A good metaphor; we're all a bit beaten up, but still standing. Seen near Ballinrobe, Co. Mayo.
In the midst of our session, Carol and I stumbled upon an animal skull. We quite literally stepped right over it as we made our way through a stand of evergreen trees. The stark whiteness of the desiccated bone contrasted vividly with the warm glow of the autumn leaves in the late afternoon sun. It felt like a gift from the universe. The odds of our path crossing the skull amid hundreds of forested acres felt akin to hitting some sort of macabre lottery. We wasted not a moment incorporating the skull into moment. It seemed to me this was the sole reason we were guided to it in the first place. I watched as Carol carefully examined the skull. I was struck by the reverence and solemnity of her look. There was an odd serenity to a scene that could easily have gone in a much harsher direction. I felt like the conduit for this photo more than its creator.