Metaphor

Macro Mondays

Theme: Needle and Thread

Escalade race

"Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming."

♥

Metaphor Theme: an individualized symbolic pattern in a language. (e.g, TIME is MONEY in English)

Festival complètement Cirque 3 Géants- 3 Giants

LES 7 DOIGTS on the PVM Esplanade, Place Ville Marie

Montreal, Qc July 2022

The giant changes the proportions of our universe. He can become a figure of the artist, an allegory of knowledge, or a metaphor for superhumanity.

A group of workers who thrive on hard work and who flourish when together have stormed this construction site for several moons. These men and women are put to work in a highly acrobatic way to finalize this titanic undertaking and give life to this scrap metal giant. Together, they work with perseverance, authenticity, passion, conviction, stubbornness and resilience. The heart, the apparent focus of emotional turmoil, becomes the allegorical representation of the creative drive. Inspired by the intuitive movement of Les Automatistes, we offer a show that celebrates creativity in its most instinctive and visceral form. A metaphor invoking the power that collectivity can wield. A praise of the greater than self, these giants exist because we create them, because we make them live.

LES 7 DOIGTS sur l’Esplanade PVM, à Place Ville Marie

Montréal, Qc Juillet 2022

Le géant est celui qui change les proportions de notre univers. Il peut devenir figure de l’artiste, allégorie du savoir, ou métaphore de la surhumanité.

Un groupe d’ouvriers qui carbure au labeur et se nourrit d’être ensemble, a pris d’assaut ce chantier depuis plusieurs lunes. Ces hommes et ces femmes, sont mis à contribution de manière hautement acrobatique pour finaliser cette titanesque entreprise et donner la vie à ce géant de ferraille. Ensemble, ils travaillent avec persévérance, authenticité, passion, conviction, entêtement et résilience. Le cœur, foyer apparent des ébranlements émotionnels, devient la représentation allégorique de la pulsion créative. S’inspirant du mouvement intuitif des Automatiste, nous proposons une œuvre qui célèbre la créativité dans sa forme la plus instinctive et viscérale. Métaphore invoquant la puissance que peut exercer la collectivité. Louange du plus grand que soi, ces géants existent par ce que nous les créons, parce que nous les faisons vivre.

I was the only one who stopped to listen. :)

- Keefer Lake forest trail, Ontario, Canada -

what a tree looks like when it is used as a metaphor

Late autumn heading into early winter here in the northern hemisphere. There's a grittiness to the landscape now, accentuated by bare tree limbs and overall lack of foliage. The killing frost took care of that. The bareness of the earth brings with it a depletion of color that only adds to the feeling of inhospitality. There's a feeling that there's nowhere now to hide from the often wintry blasts that howl across open farmland. Yet somehow this is all very fitting. As much as I dislike winter I find this atmosphere strangely comforting. Every dreary cemetery scene my mind can conjure seems to now appear before me as a reality. The cold and darkness take a back seat to the excitement this causes me. A very strange duality of thought. Nothing about visiting cemeteries seems strange about. Any last vestige of that sort of thinking left me while still a teenager, if it even existed then. If there is any oddness with this behavior it's my fixation with standing on the boundary of the cemetery property gazing back at the outside world. It's not the same doing this from within the cemetery. For me it's all about getting right up to the edge, near the graves that form the boundary between the dead and the living. It's like standing over an unsee energy field. Like an invisible fence for dogs. Dunno. But standing here on this grim November day the energy field was wide open. I looked past the graves of people that died over a century ago. In the distance the remains of a cornfield that was harvested just a few days ago. The cycle of life and death so wonderfully manifested and in the shadow of that gnarly old tree. Late autumn heading into early winter and I'm right where I belong.

As I walked this old cemetery fence line, my eye was drawn to a disruption in the ironwork. A secondary gateway had been mangled by a vehicle that had left the road, crossed the berm, smashed into the fence, and continued on to destroy some nearby grave markers. Probably unfolded in a matter of a couple of seconds, but left lasting damage. Didn't appear to be the sort of accident that would have involved serious injury. Of course the driver would have been subject to ridicule by friends suggesting that they were just "dying to get into that cemetery." For me the resulting disorder in the otherwise uniform and pristine fence was a visual delight. I wouldn't normally wish for damage to happen solely for the benefit of a photo. But on the other hand I never shy away from documenting such things when I stumble upon them. As I contemplated the scene, I was distracted by the rhythmic clip-clop of horse hooves hitting pavement. It was the unmistakeable audible signal of an approaching Amish buggy. The timing could not have been better. I was already bent (no pun) on photographing the damaged gate. Coordinating this with the passing buggy I thought would really amp up the visual impact. I used to be timid about photographing the Amish, and still avoid shooting them individually. But I now figure the buggies are fair game. I exchanged waves with the driver as the buggy drew near. Then knelt down and just let the shutter go in a continuous burst as the buggy passed the gate (trying to time shots like this and trusting a single shot is doomed to fail). The resulting image was exactly what I had envisioned. The horse and buggy, along with the fence, appear out of another era. I love the funerary feel of both, and the background and sky tie in perfectly. An image of simultaneous simplicity and complexity revealed in 1/500th of second. Love when the universe tees one up for me like this.

Kansas - Dust in the Wind

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH2w6Oxx0kQ

500px | instagram

Kingsburg, Ca. USA

The Balloon

Gregory Scott

In The Balloon, a field of tulips unravels into liquid color, as though spring itself were dissolving into a memory. Blades of green and bursts of pink, red, and gold twist upward in waves—joyous, chaotic, uncontainable. Amid this visual crescendo, a single hot air balloon rises with calm precision, untouched by the ground’s chromatic storm.

This work is a meditation on contrast—between stillness and movement, clarity and distortion, groundedness and escape. The balloon is more than an object; it is a symbol of ascent above disorder, of quiet amidst noise, of a self lifted gently beyond the fray. Gregory Scott’s signature technique of deliberate warping transforms a pastoral landscape into a swirling poem—part dream, part memory, part metaphor.

In its poetic understatement, The Balloon asks: what do we leave behind when we rise? And what beauty, in its most chaotic form, dares us to stay?

—GSP

In the midst of a falling down house, a rocking chair sits. Might be some kind of metaphor for troubled times in our lives.

Early morning clouds from my balcony

From where it sit with coffee and my cat

Metaphor.

HSS!

(Flickr still won't load comments for me . . . my photos or yours. I appreciate the comments while this gets sorted out.)

Thanks for Viewing.

Macro Mondays. Nuts

Your power

In this shot, I have selected nuts, walnuts and almonds,

for the weekly challenge. I hope you like it. Overall shot is 6.2 cm wide by 4.3 cm high.

I wanted to represent with the theme of Billie Eilish, "Your power", the power of the nuts during their lifetime of use, as a metaphor.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzeWc3zh01g

Billie Eilish - Your Power (Official Music Video)

Sé que no elegimos cambiar

puede que no quieras perder tu poder

pero poseerlo es tan extraño,

..... Ella dijo que eras un héroe,

que hiciste el papel pero lo rompiste en un año.....

I know we don't choose to change

you may not want to lose your power

But owning it is so strange

..... She said you were a hero,

that you played the role but you tore it in a year .....

Je sais que nous ne choisissons pas de changer

vous ne voudrez peut-être pas perdre votre pouvoir

Mais le posséder est si étrange

..... Elle a dit que tu étais un héros,

que vous avez joué le rôle mais que vous l'avez déchiré en un an .....

So che non scegliamo di cambiare

potresti non voler perdere il tuo potere

Ma possederlo è così strano

..... Ha detto che eri un eroe,

che hai interpretato il ruolo ma l'hai strappato in un anno .....

María

But still a very cool sim. :)

Flower of Scotland

I've always loved the contextual aspect of scarecrows. The idea of an effigy set out away from the mainstream. Standing guard over a field of crops, day and night, regardless of weather. I used to look for these things as a kid and always found them disturbing. Part of this was the surprise in discovering them. They would often pop up, seemingly out of nowhere. In my fertile youthful imagination, they had the ability to come to life. And for me anyway, it was not to serve as a playmate but to run me down and swallow me up. Deep down I knew this was not possible, but that did nothing to dispel the distrust and uneasiness. It lingers even to this day. It meshes so well with the eeriness I sense around cornfields in particular. The inability to see beyond the first couple of rows is disturbing. And the rustling of stalks, pushed by even the slightest breeze (or who know what) is unsettling at best. Like many fearful things, the terror is greatly enhanced by one's own imagination. My vision here was to bring life to those nightmarish thoughts. The specter of a dark witch towering above the cornstalks, swaying about in the wind is jolting. Witches and scarecrows hark back to the Wizard of Oz. In the film, one was benign while the other evil. Combining them into one, evil wins.

A withered rugosa rose hip seems to be dancing with joy at the emergence of the green spring bud. Having become a first time grandfather two years ago, I can see in this image a visual metaphor expressing the emotional connection between grandparents and their grandchildren.

(in explore 2021/02/12)

Double exposure in-camera with a Pentax 50mm F/1.7

"...dreams of life..."

This photo is © Richard Cawood

www.RichardCawood.com & www.2ndLightPhotography.com

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Keeping to a theme of distorted or dissolving architectures that provide a metaphor for the dissolution of rational constructs that no longer serve. My previous image cited the Major Arcana Tarot Card, The Tower, as a psychological metaphor for the coming down of a mental or psychic construct that is deemed as nothing but a hindrance in current circumstances. Here I reference that again but add to that the growing critique of the notion of modern, capitalist, exploitative progress at the expense of all else. The notion of limitless growth and limitless profit is patently ridiculous. Such growth, as I think we'll see in our lifetimes, will simply have to stop. It cannot be sustained. And again, this is not so much about radical changes to the outward world we know, but a radicalization of the thinking that creates it.

Collection of Gary Taylor, Toronto.

Part of the "Hypothetical Awards" Group's "Annual Urban Art" Challenge, HUGE thanks to Mel Cabeen for the invitation to it.

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