View allAll Photos Tagged method
Method: A laser pointer (confiscated from my son 14 years ago for shining it in my eyes) was taped onto a heavy spanner which was then tied onto a piece of string about 1.5 metres long. The string was tied to a lamp shade attached to the ceiling so that the laser was about one metre from the floor and pointing down. A clothes peg was used to hold the on/off switch on the laser. I then closed the curtains in the room to make it as dark as possible. It helped that this was shot at night. The scariest bit was then placing my precious camera underneath the spanner, on its back pointing upwards and swinging the laser/spanner assembly in a long loop. I then released the shutter in bulb mode and left the room. I tried various durations and found that around two minutes was best. The first attempt was rubbish because the laser is very directional light and only showed on the photo when it was pointing directly downwards. So, I put a piece of sellotape over the laser to diffuse it. This made it visible for the full swing.
Kao Sok hôtel Paradise Resort Treehouse - THAÏLANDE - Khao Sok
Méthode dissuasive thaïlandaise utilisée pour effrayer les macaques à longue queue
A Thai deterrent method used to scare away long-tailed macaques
model is the lovely laura martin
practicing the brenizer method/expansions
t-minus 6 days until my summer abroad in italy ;)
Trying a new processing method here. Doesn't look so bad
______________________________________________________________
For more info on this and other my photos, and my HDR tutorial, please visit my daily photo blog at blog.hdrshooter.net
______________________________________________________________
Daily photo blog - My portfolio - My HDR tutorial - My Twitter - My facebook page
May 7th, 2013
Mystic Seaport in Mystic, CT
This is the preservation shipyard that did the work on the Charles W. Morgan.
Some info on the shipyard:
"These aren’t your father’s shipbuilders. More like your great-grandfather’s.
Witness the art of wooden shipbuilding in the Henry B. duPont Preservation Shipyard, an awe-inspiring opportunity to watch skilled craftspeople perform skills made nearly extinct by steel and fiberglass.
From a visitors’ gallery, the Shipyard offers a bird’s-eye view of carpenters’ shops, an amazing 85-foot spar lathe, a rigging loft and a large, open area where the Museum’s vessels are brought indoors for repair.
Other shipyard sights include a paint shop, a metalworking shop, documentation shop, lumber shed and an old-fashioned saw mill full of rough-cut logs. Best of all, these sights are also being used, allowing us to employ historic methods for historic vessels."
Hasselblad 500 C/M
Carl Zeiss Distagon 50mm f/4 C T*
Kodak Ektar 100
Bellini Foto C-41
Scan from negative film
Brenizer Method (Bokeh panorama): 90 photos stitched with Canon 85mm f/1.8 (I over lapped them to much). Used Microsoft ICE for stitching, Photoshop CS4 did a horrible job. Shot at ISO 200, f/1.8, 1/80 sec.
Hydroponically grown - No soil, no insects, no extreme temperatures, no under watering, no over watering, no supply chain shortages, no ecoli recalls.
Photo captured via Minolta MD W.Rokkor-X 24mm F/2.8 Lens and the bracketing method of photography at Cape Flattery, the northwestern most point in the contiguous United States. On the Makah Reservation. Coastal Uplands section within the Coast Range region. Olympic Peninsula. Clallam County, Washington. On the first day of April 2016.
Exposure Time: 1/6 sec. * ISO Speed: ISO-100 * Aperture: F/8 * Bracketing: + 1 / -1 * Color Temperature: 4800 K * Film Emulation: Fujifilm Velvia * Filter: Warming Filter (85)
Hi everyone!
I´m happy that I can present my newest creation! It´s the next piece of my minifig scaled RC collection. This time I decided to build a Flixbus. After Flixbus bought the rivalry Eurolines, it became maybe the cheapest way for poor students from Hungary (or not only from Hungary) to travel across Europe. At least for me it was the perfect method at that time! Hope you like it!
Unfortunately the last time I travelled somewhere by a Flixbus was in August 2019. But hopefully it will change in the near future!
Flixbus came often in the middle of the night, just as the Knight Bus did in Harry Potter. That´s why it stands on the destination screen :)
Before you start reading about the boring technical facts and irritating things during the building period, please watch the video!
It took approx 4 months long to build the bus. It´s not the first tiny RC I build. Despite of it I can´t say it didn´t challenge me. Yes, I´m speaking about the lettering and arrows on the sides. Maybe you still remember of the Milka Truck. That lettering has only vertical or horizontal building techniques. That´s why it was possible to do the lettering on each side only 1 stud deep. It was important, because it allowed to put the battery box (the biggest and most inflexible element) between the two walls and staying with the width in 6 studs at the same time. But “FLIXBUS” is more difficult. It is also not always possible to have stud connections (for example letter X, or the diagonal arrows). In this case the letters have to have inside some bigger parts on them, which simply doesn’t allow them to fall out. It means it stays only a two-stud wide space in the middle. That’s enough for the technic chassis, but not for the batteries. And also not for the motors… So only the half of the lengths stayed for the functional parts.
For the steering and propulsion I stole the method from the Milka truck (with vertical motors), where they´ve already proven, that they work really well. The only possible (long enough) space for the battery box was at the back. Fortunately right above the driven wheels. They need the weight on them to increase the friction between the tires and the street. Another positive feature is, that the Sbrick is small enough to be above the letters, so I didn´t have to make the whole bus longer.
Another part of the challenge was to create the diagonal white lines on the front. There was almost nothing inside, which they could be attached to. The reason is, that the moving parts of the steering are there, so it´s simply impossible to put there any other parts without disablement of the steering. Other reason is, that the upside-down parts of the front have already used the space there. At the end I decided to use the rubber bands, without being irritated by the fact, that it´s possible to see them outside, too.
The bus has three axles. The third one is again an axle with some kind of fake suspension. It is just hanging there and doesn´t hold anything, so in theory it can never happen, that the driven wheels leave the ground. Please notice the detail that there are brackets instead of plates on the top of the third mudguards. It creates a bit bigger space in the mudguard for the wheels with the fake suspension. It means, that the bus can win against bigger obstructions.
All in all I really enjoyed working on the bus. Hope you like the result, too! Thanks for watching and reading!
Each year, the Tonle Sap lake, fed by monsoon rains and the Mekong River system, spills onto a vast floodplain, that covers a number of provinces in Cambodia. Some of the villages close to the lake are permanently flooded, and are literally floating villages. Others further away from the lake's edge are flooded only seasonally, and houses are linked to the ground, but raised on stilts by as much as 5 meters, as is the case in this image. Here people are more fortunate than those who have been pushed off the land, since both fishing and dry season agriculture are possible. Yet, with diminishing fish stocks and small farm sizes (about half a hectare per family), most families survive on little more than a few dollars a day. The floods are both a blessing and an added problem. While it brings the fish closer to the villages, the declining fish stocks have halved the quantity of fish a household is able to catch if they do not use fishing methods prohibited by the government. Consequently, the amount of nutrition and income a family can get from the floods has declined by as mush as 50%, with no option to engage in agriculture as their fields lie under 4-5 meters of water. The water also transforms simple day to day activities. Something as simple as visiting one's neighbor involves getting into and out of a boat, even though the destination is only across what was the village road. On our first night in one of these villages, my colleague was woken in the night by a boatman from another village in search of a midwife, as his wife was giving birth on the boat. Hardly any services are available to these communities, as many government departments are understaffed in the first place, and in any case do not prioritize these villages. Despite this myriad of hardships and inconveniences that are the hallmarks of marginalization, these people have not forgotten that some joys need nothing but each other.
"Zero gravity, zero enemies, zero trouble."
---
Colonization in different aspects of the frontier requires four basic things: people, a method of transportation, supplies, and protection against external threats. We already have the first three but we barely have the last.
Wars and gunfights will happen in space and there's no denying it. But there needs to be something that can be used to hold off enemies in space and beyond. That's where the Active Responsive Adaptability platform comes in. Shown right here is the Assault model, developed by the Orbital Sector Research Armaments group in the late 2070s in an effort to provide people both on the ground and in space a weapon to protect themselves in every environment we've come across so far.
The ARA-A features a bullpup design which cuts down on length greatly, allowing the weapon to be maneuvered around quickly and easily. The size makes it easy to conceal as opposed to carrying a large rifle of the same role. Using an experimental gas system, whose schematics are kept private and under wraps for security purposes, the ARA-A can fire bullets at the same velocity as a typical assault rifle but with less explosive force, cutting down on muzzle flash size greatly, which is vital as said flashes and whatnot will tend to expand in vacuums and in space, lowering visibility. Rate of fire is clocked in at 850 RPM, but can be overclocked up to 1,150 RPM or even decreased to 680 RPM if needed for different purposes. Recoil mitigation technology is implemented as well to counter any possible traces of recoil by stabilizing the weapon in an effort to counter the kickback by providing a push in the opposite direction as per Newton's third law.
To further emphasize the short length, the barrel and flash hider are both integrated into the weapon. Barrel lengths are dependent on the receiver, and currently, only one length is available at the moment. By moving the bolt system behind the trigger grouping, the barrel is technically as long as a typical long-barreled assault rifle with a conventional bolt location. This allowed OSRA to make the barrel and flash hider integrated to make the rifle as short as possible.
Due to the fact that it is possible for the shooter to arrive in a dark area in space or on the ground, nighttime tritium sights are also included to provide some degree of visibility. To complement this, HUD systems also outline any identified enemies in red via ID cross-referencing, in which the system scans a target for possible identification (where the list is comprised of only allies and neutral subjects) and labels them accordingly. All targets unidentified are considered neutral (highlighted in green) until fired upon, in which the hostile turns red. The bolt mechanism will lock upon aiming at a neutral target to avoid accidental causalities, regardless if the weapon is set to full-auto, semi-automatic, or safe.
Electronics are also integrated within the rifle, such as the modular handguard, which features an integrated attachment for a variety of different roles. In this presentation model, the handguard is outfitted with a laser sight, which is visible to only the shooter. Using OSRA augmented reality HUD systems, the shooter can produce a laser sight in their field of view without anyone else seeing it unless they are linked to the HUD. This not only prevents enemies from seeing the flare of the laser sight but also provides the benefits of having one enabled for the shooter. Currently, the only modules available are the laser sight and a flashlight, which can also be seen only through AR.
Approaching to land.
This is a former Care Flight aircraft. That company was bought out by Air Methods and it has been re-marked as Native Air, another company that Air Methods took over a while ago. It still says Care Flight on the underside of the fuselage.
I took this photo in a beautiful Saturday morning at the Central Park, New York City. I was practicing the 'Pep Ventosa method' - 'walk around the tree', multiexposure method. 21 pictures stack together to make this work, setting 94% transperency, 'lighter' blending method. Adjust curves and brightness to correct exposure.
The scene of an act of sabotage during the Irish Civil War seems appropriate given world events this week! Long before the advent of drones dealing death from the sky, more mundane methods were used. Was the train destroyed in situ, or were they the victims of a mine set under the permanent way?
Photographers: J. Kilpatrick
Collection: Civil War Infrastructural Damages Photograph Collection
Date: 1922 Tuesday, 16 January 1923,
NLI Ref: NPA CW8
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
A small break from my Minifigure photography :)
My previous method included using small ziplock bags and small drawers. This new method is much easier as its less stuff that I have to take out each time when I'm building and now they are sorted by category. I'm still using the other methods but slowly I will phase them out as I manage to get more of these. I need to purchase more parts for my MOCs, as most builders know; no matter how many parts you own you still won't have the right piece in the right colour or quantity :)
I use the 'Really Useful Box 4 Litre' and 'Really Useful Organiser Tray 4 Litre.'
I was asked by Untold Method to contribute to their ongoing collaborative comic/graphic novel. This is the 5th page of the comic, and I was given all the dialogue and guidelines for the story. I did it using my typical technique of India ink on paper. This is pretty much my first attempt at working on a comic, but hopefully not my last. We'll see.......
In the meantime, check out the website to see the other pages. They have some talented folks working on it :)
photography method
(1)First setting is bulb mode and ISO3200
(2) Next setting is F2.8(aperture ring scale → F2.8)
(3) Next is focus setting on the star(focus ring scale→∞)
(4)Shutter ON
(5)30-50 sec exposure
(6)Change it for F22(aperture ring scale → F22)
(7)Change focus into a Lily (focus ring scale→macro)
(8)light the Lily with Speedlight 550EXⅡ（The wind was strong) or LED.
(9)Shutter OFF
I use the soft filter LEE soft No3
21 images stitched together, shot with my Nikon D750 and Sigma 50mm f/1.4 (at f/1.4) of Kaylee on an island during the golden hour.
Some thoughts on teaching tonight, or rather perhaps just one thought with a few myriad tangents. I lectured a bit on this in class today, but now my brain is fried from measuring and cutting mats all night, so hopefully I can get this out in a lucid enough manner.
My advice to any who are interested in teaching or becoming photography teachers? Stay away from the Do's and Don'ts. Simply put, try not to teach students based on your idea of what is the right photography and what is the wrong photography. Because that is all your opinion, and your opinion is limited. If you teach from that perspective, you cannot teach someone to become a better photographer than you are, because you are imposing your own limitations on them.
Rather, teach them about what they can or could do. Help them realize how big a world photography is, give them the knowledge to help them get started exploring that world, and then turn them loose. Let them go. Let them become their own photographers, whatever they decide that may be.
I know of a lot of photo workshops that happen in this area, and I actually hear a lot of good responses regarding them from people who have taken them. But I have heard a few bad stories too, and this is generally the notion they concentrate on.
There is a difference between taking a photographer out and showing them how to make better photographs and showing them how to become a better photographer. If I want to show someone how to make better photos, I just take them somewhere pretty, and set them up in all the spots I know. Voila, instant success. Right? But how does that end up? They end up with photos that look like ones I would have made. To me this is not necessarily a bad thing, but it isn't a good thing either.
My most satisfying moments after leading a workshop or class are when we have our review sessions and the students bring in images I have never seen before, or even contemplated making. This happened recently with my Cape Kiwanda class. I have been there so many times, I do not care to even try and count them, but there were a number of images that came up in the review session that I have never seen before, that were unique and interesting. And if I had led them around and set them up in the spots I had known, and showed them the images to make, I would have quashed that.
It is tricky though I know, because showing students how to make better photos is easier, and therefore more likely to please them considering they have paid money to be pleased. But I would contend that that pleasure is short term. They have a couple of nice images, and they have learned a little in the process. But in the long term, they have not benefited as fully as they could have had they been helped and encouraged to find their own path and vision.
Hmmm.
It seems an easy and innocuous thing to tell students what not to do, right? Don't underexpose. Don't miss your focus. Don't compose this way or that way. The "don'ts" are designed to help them avoid mistakes. So it would also seem to be a good idea to tell them the "do's". Do follow your light meter. Do use the rule of thirds. Do photograph during golden hour. Etc. But the do's are really don't in disguise. And my problem with that is that they cut off avenues of exploration.
My suggestion is to explain misexposure. What happens when an image is under or over exposed? Let them try it, find out, learn. Explain focus and its pros and cons and let them decide what applies to what they want to do. Explain their options and encourage them to explore them and form their own opinions, as much as possible. Explain the material to them, but avoid putting it into the super limited scope of right and wrong methods.
Even in processing, because I get this question a lot. Students who had photo professors tell them to never use Photoshop. It is silly. Don't ever let another person tell you what to do or not do with your cameras, at least artistically speaking, cannot speak regarding legal issues. :-p Because when you listen to those people, both the Don't crowd and the Do crowd, they are placing limits on you and what you can do.
And I think as an instructor of photography, you are trying to open the world up for them, not close it down. Teach them to become better photographers and you can possibly teach them beyond even your own limitations.
Speaking of classes and workshops, for those interested I have a busy spring schedule lined up both through Exposure Northwest and Newspace. If you are interested in a class, there are links on my profile page. I am too tired to embed the link, you should know how to find it by now. I might recommend the post-processing class that Aaron and I are offering coming up in February as well as the stormy coast workshop also through Exposure Northwest. Those two both should be particularly fun and interesting. At least I hope so. ;-)
The Brenizer method creates a shallow DOF in tandem with a wide angle of view. It's popular in wedding photography. To create this shot I used my 50 mm lens at f 1.8, and focused manually on the pipe. I did not change the focus as I took the shots for the pano. Because my aperture was so wide (in order to create background blur), I upped my shutter speed to 1/4000. I used six shots, which were merged in Camera Raw.
===Before===
“In other news, Arkham City’s Stryker Task Force made ten more arrests this morning. The controversial private contractors, headed by Priscilla Stryker, have been under fire for their increasingly heavy-handed methods-”
Jervis Tetch let out a high-pitched giggle, taking a loud slurp of Earl Grey tea, his favourite.
Placing the cup and saucer back down, he finished setting the table; placing several tiered stands onto the patchwork tablecloth; a selection of homemade scones, cakes and cucumber sandwiches placed atop each one. He wrapped his gnarled fingernails around the remote control and turned off the wall-mounted TV. Then, he stuck his pinkie fingers in his mouth and whistled at his two guests.
The man, dressed in a white suit and jacket, rolled his eyes, and walked forward, his arm around the woman’s waist.
As they approached the table, Tetch greeted them with a poem.
“The White Mask and The Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,’
They said, it would be grand!’
If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the White Mask said,
That they could get it clear?’
I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.”
“That’s enough, little man,” Franco scowled. “Sionis wants his next shipment moved pronto. That Arkham strike force is already coming down on us, hard, as is. The boss can’t risk them stumbling on these warehouses.”
Tetch chuckled dismissively, pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. “Silly silly, Franco. He’s caught in such a daze. Little does the madman know, he’s but a passing craze.”
At this, Franco grabbed the teapot mid-pour, allowing Tetch’s cup of Earl Grey to overflow into the saucer. “I said, midget-” he began.
“I heard you sir. I heard your pleas, I heard you loud and clear. But don’t you fret my bossy friend, our time is drawing near.”
Franco relaxed, relinquishing his grip on the teapot. “Sure. Whatever you say, freak. Sooner this partnership’s at an end, the better.”
“Quite so, Mr Franco. Now there I do agree. For Wonderland is calling me, and there I’ll promptly flee.”
Suddenly, the double doors swung open and a pale man in a red shirt and blue waistcoat entered the room.
“Mr White,” Franco spluttered. It was rare that any of the bosses graced him with their presence, let alone The Great White Shark. Before he could welcome him with a patronising remark, White interrupted him:
“Those Stryker pigs nabbed the boss. They’re taking him to Arkham with the other freaks.”
The room was silent at first, save for the trickling sounds of Tetch returning the excess tea from his saucer back into the teapot.
“What does this mean for... this?” Franco asked at last.
White shrugged dispassionately. “Nada. Squat. We knew this was gonna happen, and we’ve got contingencies for it. The boss may be stuck in there, but so are our competitors. That means we can push our product, without Penguin or Dent’s interference. ‘Least on this side of the bars,” White smirked, running his tongue across his pointed teeth.
“Competitors? I thought Penguin was into arms dealing. You really think he’s going to muscle in on our racket?”
“I don’t know,” White admitted. “But Cobblepot has that Scarecrow freak working on something; a chemical, a drug, that’s the rumour. Either way, our operation remains the same. There’s a factory on the inside, production’s a non-issue; the boss has that quilted quack running things, keeping the other junkies in line. It’s distribution that’s a problem. We need to keep a low profile. Don’t want the strike force, or worse, the Bat, disrupting our supply chain. We’ve got the Terrible Trio on call for the moment, but those furries are hardly low-key…” he trailed off, taking note of the woman at Franco’s side, recognising her as The Carpenter.
“You, the girlfriend,” he clicked his tongue, pointing a pale finger at Jenna.
“That’s not necessary, man-” Franco interjected.
White ignored him. “You do a lot of commission work, don’t you? That kind of “Pimp my Ride,” interior decorator type-shit? You got anyone on the old rolodex that you reckon could help us out?
“I dunno,” Jenna shrugged. “Most of my clients aren’t exactly low-profile.”
“Oh, I can imagine, I’ve seen your portfolio. That giant typewriter of Nygma’s? Brilliant,” White chuckled. “Still, you got an Invisible Man or Woman on there? Someone incognito, but not Incognito, because, well, he’s dead.” A shot in the dark.
“I might actually,” Jenna spoke. “You ever hear about Lloyd Ventrix?”
==The Iceberg Lounge==
Cobblepot greeted Sionis at the entrance to the lounge. Warren White stood beside them, picking a scab at the base of his elbow distractedly. “Ah, Roman, you made it, excellent!” Cobblepot addressed him, holding his arms out wide to hug the newest arrival. Black Mask rejected the hug, seeing through the Mayor’s obvious attempts to patronise him.
“Where is he?” Sionis asked grimly, his eyes drawn to the umbrella in Cobblepot’s hand, aware of the hidden firing mechanism within.
“Please, sit. We have a superb selection of wines this evening,” Cobblepot said dismissively, waving a flipper in the direction of the seating area. “Our catch of the day is red snapper, and we had a shipment of Atlantic scallops delivered this morning-”
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be staying long.” Sionis growled, as he nudged past Cobblepot and pushed the door open.
Gaige was sitting in the center of the room, his feet rested up on the table, a glass of red wine by his side. Gone was the muted blue business suit he had worn as The Physician, instead he sported a bright tiger-skin jacket and an accompanying red headscarf. There was one other occupant in the room, sat hidden at the bar.
Sionis drew his gun and aimed it at Gaige’s forehead. “The ‘Physician,’” he inhaled. “How stupid do you think I am?”
Gaige cocked his head to one side. “Do you want a rounded estimate?”
The Great White grinned at the joke appreciatively, then reached into his own holster. “You made a mistake coming here,” he informed the Tiger Shark.
“Oh, no mistake, Warren.” Gaige swirled the red liquid around in his glass and licked the glass’ rim with his forked tongue. “A secret brother,” he addressed Sionis, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “Is that why you thought daddy didn’t love you?”
Sionis’ gun stayed raised. White used his free hand to muffle his laughter.
“Roman, Warren, hear the man out,” Cobblepot defended Gaige. “I think you will find what he has to say very… illuminating.”
“Illuminating,” Sionis repeated, as he slid into the chair opposite Gaige’s. “This’ll be good.”
Gaige took a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie and made a rare rumble of approval. “Did you really think that I would settle for being Franco’s right hand? Do you know what he uses it for? As it turns out,” Gaige smirked, “Our beloved Mayor is actually rather comfortable with his new position. And the last thing he wants is a... change of management.”
“Franco and Ferris,” Sionis presumed.
Gaige nodded. "I admit, I was happy to play along, at first; Franco for all his faults, did get me out of prison, and I won’t deny that I was tempted to get revenge on you... But then... Well, let’s say that my situation has changed somewhat."
Sionis and White exchanged puzzled looks.
“You see, recently, I was given a responsibility. Four, actually: Children, of various ages, genders and, ah, sizes. And I intend to give them the best life I can give them. I owe it to them. I owe it to their father. And I owe it to my daughter.”
“Cute.”
Gaige smirked. "I’m not asking for much,” he explained. “I’d like my turf back. Dixon Docks. Port Adams. Oh, and of course whatever territory you offered Ferris to get him back to Gotham.”
“And if I refuse-?” Sionis’ eyes glinted.
“Well, you won’t, because that would be incredibly short-sighted of you. Not to mention fucking stupid. Two of your lieutenants just tried to stage a coup, how many of their soldiers do you think they recruited? You really think you'll survive another gang war?"
"Do you?"
"I wouldn't bet against me.” Gaige snapped his fingers, and the scruffy man at the bar rose from the stool, an old oil lamp in his hand. Ratcatcher.
Penguin, shot his umbrella in the air. “Enough; you always were children, the lot of you... We can keep sacrificing guns and manpower bickering among ourselves in another bitter power struggle if that’s what you want. But it doesn’t matter who wears the crown so long as there’s a city of so-called vigilantes outside these windows. We’ve lost sight of things- we can divide the city among ourselves, yes, but we can’t do anything whilst there’s still a bat infestation.”
“Eh, but a gang war sounds more fun,” Sionis spoke, as his skull-like features formed a smile.
Just then, there was a light, polite chapping on the door, and a pale man entered the room.
“What the blazes is it now, Ogilvy?” Penguin snapped.
“Sorry sirs,” the man apologised. “But you wanted to be kept in the loop about Franco.”
==Sionis Warehouse: South Gotham==
Roman Sionis had several warehouses scattered around Gotham City, each one serving as a front for The False Face Society's illegal activities. His headquarters, the north steel mill, was destroyed during the Arkham City earthquake. The east warehouse was burned down by The Black Spider six years ago. This one, located in South Gotham, was once used as the mob's armoury: housing several crates full of guns and ammunition.
Franco was aiming a rifle out of the window: He was wearing a Kevlar vest over his lilac shirt, having discarded the tie and jacket. His Ivory mask was resting on the opened rifle case. As he peered down the scope, he frowned. A man was walking towards them, their hands raised in the air in surrender. Their face was illuminated by a small lamp wrapped around their hatband. The light bounced off the man’s black-rimmed glasses, but their silhouette was unmistakable.
Franco lowered the gun. "That's not Lynns."
~-~
Franco escorted Li into the main loading bay, his rifle aimed at his back. As they came to a halt, Li raised his arms out in front of him, allowing Franco to search his person without any resistance.
“Who else is here?” Franco asked, retrieving a small pistol from Li’s tweed jacket with his free hand, and emptying the chamber’s contents onto the warehouse floor.
“Just me,” Li replied, as Franco flicked through his leather-bound notebook, trying to figure out how much he knew.
Ferris stepped into the light. He wore a Kevlar vest, same as Franco, and held a .12 Gauge shotgun in one hand. “Would you relax?” he scolded Franco, slapping him across the back. “Go keep a look-out for that chopper. I got this.”
“But-”
“Go,” Ferris repeated, holding the gun up by the stock.
Franco looked like he was going to argue, but obliged, sulking as he climbed up the ladder and returned to his look-out post in the rafters. Ferris looked over his shoulder, his beady eyes trained on Franco.
“How long have you been working against Roman?” Li asked.
Ferris turned his head back, indulging Bookworm. “Roman? He's Roman now, is he? Since before he ‘kindly’ lifted my exile... Since I saw his true face. Franco’s young and easy to mould; he’ll follow anyone who’ll get him on top. All I had to do was wait until he forced Sionis’ hand. The blood tests were smart, Tiger Shark’s idea, I guess. His kind are crafty, I’ll give them that much...
To his credit, it worked. Sionis, worried about a young rival to his throne, was all too eager to lift my exile and bring me home.”
“Is that why you gave Calendar Man the security codes to the building?” Li inquired.
“Hah. Well, aren’t you the little detective?” Ferris chuckled.
~-~
Joey Rigger opened the metal hatch, poking his head out from under the floor. The passage exit was unguarded, which meant that, true to his word, Li was keeping the mobsters distracted. Good. He climbed up onto the loading dock, followed by Needham, the pair making sure to close the hatch behind them.
"Jenna?" Joey called out. "Jenna? You here?" he asked again, taking a cautious step forward. Behind him, Needham stood stiff as a board; his eyes fixed on Ferris. Joey peered around the corner, noting the foreman’s office on the first floor, a single lamp illuminating Jenna’s handcuffed silhouette. She was alive, thank God. As he turned back, Joey’s relieved smile turned to a frown: Needham was gone.
"Eric?"
~-~
Li straightened his glasses. “There’s still something I don’t quite understand. Why move against Ro- Mr Sionis in the first place?”
Ferris scoffed. “The same reason daddy tried to kick him out of the company. Because I know all about his dirty secret. You. People like you. See, I read those files, I read all about Moxxom, and what Sionis asked him to do to get him reinstated. Trust me, that enabler got what was coming to him. It’s about the only thing Calendar Man got right.
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m no, heh, Francophile, but the mob needs a new leader. A strong leader. And maybe that’s not Franco. But it sure as hell isn’t the Black Mask. I, for one, refuse to take orders from a soft-hearted poof.”
“No one has ever accused Mr Sionis of being soft-hearted,” Li noted.
“No one knew he liked to take it up the ass neither.”
Li took a step forward. “And the East End? What happened there? You wouldn’t have known about Mr Sionis then, surely.”
Needham watched them from the shadows, his jaw clenched, his hand balled-up into a fist. Beneath his bridle, Ferris smirked, thinking back to that time with the same sense of nostalgia as someone reminiscing about their favourite holiday. He was proud of his twisted achievement, and he recounted his confession to Li with a disturbed sense of pride.
“Oh, so you read up on that too, huh? Suppose you would… Nah, that was just a bit of fun. Oh, don’t give me that look! They were degenerates! Junkies! No one was going to miss them! If we got Black Spider, that’d be great! And if we didn’t? Well, we still killed a few dozen darkies.”
~-~
As Franco played with the scope of his rifle, he paused. He heard something: the faint sound of an engine overhead. “Is that the chopper?” he pondered, sticking his head out of the open window: No such luck.
“Hey, Davey,” a man answered him, their voice had a metallic reverb to it, an effect of the yellow and red insect-like mask they wore.
Garfield Lynns was hovering above Franco, dressed in a suit of black and grey armour; metal wings on either side of him kept him airborne, their turbines spitting out clouds of grey smoke. Firefly was here, and he was armed.
“Found my suitcase,” he announced.
Franco eyed the large flamethrower in Lynns’ hand; a bright orange glow was emanating from the barrel, and it was glowing brighter still. Franco’s eyes widened as he realised what was coming next.
“Oh shit!”
Franco instinctively threw himself from the railing, as a massive fireball shot out from the gun, scalding his arms and cheek. Landing on the ground, he reached out towards the ivory mask which had landed on the ground beside him. He turned back to Gar and slid the mask onto his face as though he were challenging him. The fireball and Franco’s resultant fall caught the other party’s attention: Ferris spun his head around to see what was happening; only to be met by Eric Needham, a pistol in his hand. Li covered his head with his arms to protect himself and without hesitation, Needham pulled the trigger; a bullet whizzed through the air and struck Ferris in the forehead.
Ferris fell to the floor; his metal helmet struck the ground with a loud clang, and his shotgun slid across the floor out of reach. Franco looked at Ferris, then at Needham, like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights, his wide eyes poking out from behind his skull-like mask. He took a fervent glance at Lynns, still hovering above him, and ducked around the corner. Gar’s jetpack buzzed, and he shot off in pursuit of the White Mask.
Still holding his gun, Needham stepped forwards, standing over Ferris’ unmoving figure. He turned to Li; a dissatisfied grimace hidden behind his own mask. “Walk away,” he said coldly.
Li nodded obediently, retrieving his notebook from the crate Franco had left it on. Suddenly, a hand latched onto Needham’s ankle, tripping him over. Needham stumbled backwards, but using his arms to catch himself, he avoided hitting the ground.
“Once a junkie, always a junkie,” his attacker called out, cracking his bruised knuckles. Henry Ferris was back on his feet, with little more than a dent in his helmet.
Making the first move, Ferris rushed forward, headbutting Needham twice in quick succession. In the third attempt, Needham leapt over him, and smashed his head against a pillar instead. The section of stone pillar he struck crumbled under the impact, and a crack formed in his iron mask. Ferris let out a frustrated yell, throwing Needham off him. The next thing he did, was recover his shotgun, and aim it at Needham’s head. Before he could fire however, a voice called to him from the walkway above them.
“Yo, Iron-Hat!” Joey waved at the mobster, goading him. “Hamilton.”
Though hidden behind his mask, Ferris’ cheeks grew red with anger, and he fired off several rounds from his shotgun. Joey smirked, ducking behind the handrail. “The Wiz!”
With Ferris momentarily distracted, Needham was able to dispatch him with a sweeping kick. He webbed the firearm out of Ferris’ hand, and broke the gun over his knee, saluting at Joey gratefully.
~-~
Franco ducked behind a stack of crates, his phone propped between his head and shoulder “Where the hell is that chopper, LaMonica?” he snapped.
“ETA two minutes, boss,” Johnny LaMonica’s easy-going voice answered.
“Yeah?” Franco scoffed. He was trying to slide a magazine into his handgun (The grip of which was adorned with ivory, much like his mask), but his sweaty palms had made the task more difficult than he had anticipated. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” he complained.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” Gar replied. As he spoke, his wings tucked themselves into the side of his backpack, lowering him to the ground.
Franco fired his gun at Lynns to stall him, emptying the clip, and then he took off again, heading out through the side door.
“New plan,” he spoke into his phone. “I’m not gonna make it to the roof, land in the parking lot. The one overlooking the bay.”
Bit tight, no, ese?” LaMonica queried.
“Just do it!”
The door was blown off its hinges, as Gar tore through it. Franco reloaded his gun, but this time, Gar shot out a jet of fire at it, overheating it. The gun shot out of Franco’s hand and landed several meters behind him.
“You knew,” Gar spoke disdainfully. “You knew Day would be there. You sent Carson, knowing he would kill anyone who stood between him and Drury. And you… You brought her anyway.”
“And you weren’t even supposed to be there! We would’ve got out without a hitch, and Romy would’ve been dead if you and your misfits hadn’t got involved. So don’t… don’t play the victim card,” Franco scoffed. “There wasn’t anyone in that building that got hurt and didn’t deserve it. Every guest, every guard, villains. All of us. Her included.”
“So? I know she worked for Tetch. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“No, I suppose it wouldn’t. You’re a serial arsonist after all, ‘Firefly.’” Franco sneered. “I mean, didn’t you once incinerate an orphanage?”
“My orphanage,” Lynns clarified. “And it was abandoned.”
“Aside from a few drifters, right? There’s always a couple, you know!” Franco laughed. “Come on, man! What do you have that I don’t?”
“A flamethrower,” Gar said slyly, turning a dial on his weapon.
“I can buy a flamethrower!” he laughed back.
“I can buy a toupee, watch yourself, asshole,” Gar retorted.
Their conversation was cut short: The arrival of Franco’s helicopter was heralded by the rhythm of the chopper’s twin rotors. In the pilot seats were a pair of thugs unfamiliar to Gar but known to Joey and Eric as Harlan Combs and Johnny LaMonica, two crooks who took-over their gear and mantles for a cheap thrill. LaMonica cackled, as he pressed a button on the dashboard, two guns emerged from flaps at either side of the helicopter.
“Oops…” Franco shrugged mockingly. “Sorry, Lynns, looks like my ride’s here.”
“Sorry, ‘Davey.’ But you’re not getting on that chopper.”
~-~
Joey entered the foreman’s office, a cramped room with a damp floor, a stack of old pizza boxes strewn across the desk, a toolbox on the leftmost shelf, and a system of rusted pipes lined along the back wall. Jenna was handcuffed to one such pipe. As she noticed the winged silhouette at the other end of the darkened room, her heart started to beat faster. That feeling, was almost immediately replaced with one of confusion when it became clear who her rescuer was.
“Joey?” Jenna stammered incredulously; her brow furrowed.
“Jenna! We’re getting you out of here,” Joey smiled reassuringly, scanning the room for the key, or at least a lock pick.
“Wait, where’s Gar?” she asked.
“He’s fine, he went after Franco,” Joey informed her.
Their eyes were drawn to the window outside, where it looked like Gar was being pursued by a helicopter the size of a small bus. Joey, turned to Jenna apologetically.
-“I should probably make sure he’s alright.”
-“You should probably make sure he’s alright.”
“Yeah,” Joey nodded. “I’ll… be right back,” he agreed.
“You- You could still uncuff me.,” Jenna sighed, her nostrils flaring.
~-~
Joey shot into action, flying around the side of the black helicopter, twin shooters on his wrists. Combs rose from the co-pilot’s position; his Firebug outfit was noticeably heavier than Joey’s was, possibly to overcompensate for his visual impairments. LaMonica didn’t seem to mind. Since he’d taken a knife to one eye, and a plastic spork to the other, Combs’ effectiveness in the field had decreased dramatically, even with a patch-up courtesy of the illusive Crime Doctor. Taking to the skies, Combs fired a massive blast of napalm in Joey’s direction: Joey rolled to one side, the flames barely singeing the side of his leg. Joey flew higher into the air, in an attempt to bait Combs away from the helicopter. Oblivious to Joey’s intentions, Combs followed after him, continuing their private dogfight.
“You’re nothing, Rigger. Just an undisciplined idiot!” Combs bellowed.
With Combs distracted, Gar flew behind the helicopter, striking the back rotor of the helicopter with one of Drury’s cocoon capsules, gumming up the machinery. A trail of black smoke billowed from the helicopter, with the flames eventually making their way through the fuselage. LaMonica, attempted to bail the doomed ride, firing a black web from his gauntlet. An inferior compound to Needham’s, the web caught fire and the imposter Spider plummeted onto the tarmac road below, where Li was waiting for him.
LaMonica peeled the mask off his face, and sighed. “Listen, man, I didn’t wanna be here, but I didn’t have a choice. I mean, Franco got me out of prison, I had to pay him back, that’s just common courtesy, you know? Surely, we can work something out, right? You dig?”
Emotionlessly, Li reached above his head and lifted his hat: taped to the inside, was a second pistol. He spun the chamber and aimed it at LaMonica’s head.
“Yeah. I ‘dig.’”
Pilotless, the helicopter spun out of control. The rear rotor caught itself across the exterior of the warehouse, tearing through the corrugated metal and windowpanes. On the ground, Franco ducked for cover. Inside the office, a red toolbox crashed to the ground, its contents spilling out by Jenna’s feet. “Jackpot,” she remarked. Looking on either side to ensure no one was watching, Jenna shimmied her body down the pipe until she reached the ground. Still handcuffed, she used her feet to grip the screwdriver, and bring it to her hands. She pushed the screwdriver down into the lock, breaking it open, and rubbed her wrists.
~-~
Momentarily distracted, Combs turned his head back. His mistake. His mouth hung open, but his body had frozen. Petrified in mid-air, he didn't think to manoeuvre out of the way of the helicopter's out of control rotors. The only thing he could do, was hurl one last insult Joey's way.
"Rigger, you son of a who-"
He didn't finish. The helicopter blade had cleaved him in two. His jetpack propelled his body forwards, not stopping until it struck a nearby billboard: An insurance ad of all things.
A quiet splash several yards away denoted the position of Combs' head. It had landed in the harbour. The helicopter’s fuselage rolled through the air and crashed into the side of the warehouse.
Gar and Joey regrouped, approaching the downed helicopter: In the confusion, Franco had escaped, but Gar knew exactly where he was heading.
~-~
Although most of the technology in the facility was outdated, there was one piece of machinery that was still operational: a large, red hydraulic press.
Ferris reached into his jacket lining and slid a pair of brass knuckles over his hands. His punch tore into Needham’s cheek, ripping off a mix of skin and bloodied fabric. With all the strength he had left, Needham grabbed Ferris from behind and slammed his head into the hydraulic press, his skull sandwiched between the ram and base of the device. He webbed the lever, and the device hummed into life. Ferris let out a scream as the pistols started to pump and the ram pushed down onto his iron mask. He swung his arms back and forth wildly, trying to grasp Needham’s clothing. An unpleasant scraping of metal-on-metal echoed through the warehouse, and at last, there was loud crunch. Ferris’ wolf-like faceplate clattered to the ground. He slid free from the machinery and slid onto the floor.
“I… appreciate the face-lift,” he remarked. For the first time in six years, Henry Ferris ran his hands across his exposed face, chuckling. But he couldn’t revel in his freedom for long. Needham grabbed him by the shoulder and rammed the blonde man against the wall.
"Well, what do you know..." Ferris rasped. "You have gone soft."
"No. No, I just want to look into your eyes as I kill you," Needham gritted his teeth, his hold on Ferris tightening. "Why?” he asked. “Dozens dead. My child, my woman dead. Just to draw me out? Just to get a crack at me? I deserve to know why.” He grabbed his knife and pressed it tightly against Ferris' throat. Small droplets of blood trickled down, as the blade broke the skin.
Ferris rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure. Just to get a crack at you.”
Needham released his grip, his eyes widening.
“Look at yourself. You tell me why,” Ferris grunted, his limp body sliding against the wall. “Shame about your pretty, fair-skinned girlfriend... Kaff kaff But she should’ve known better. Dating one a’ youse? Could only end one way.”
“Her body...” he coughed feebly, “Her body was poisoned long before the drugs took her life.”
Needham's fist tightened around the knife, and then he sighed. He’d been down this road before, those men in the False Face Society, The Monarch of Menace… And he thought about what that had cost him. And about how far he had come since that Iceberg Summit. Beneath his mask, Henry Ferris was just a man. A pathetic, disgusting mess of a man, yes. But a man, nonetheless. And no man was worth throwing away all the progress he had made. Not even Ferris.
‘No.’ Needham vowed, dropping his knife as a sign of protest, and turning his back on him.
“Hah,” Ferris chuckled at Needham’s perceived weakness, and reached for the abandoned knife. “Stupid n-”
The knife, clattered to the ground with a pathetic “clang.”
Needham looked back: Ferris was on his feet, clutching his throat with one hand, gurgling blood. Between his bloody fingers was a silver blade, protruding from his neck. For a few seconds, Ferris remained upright, swaying from side to side, and then he joined the knife on the ground. For several more minutes, Ferris spasmed on the floor, coughing, spluttering, wheezing; blood dripped from either side of his mouth, painting his face with a scarlet scowl. And with a final gasp, he rolled onto his stomach, dead, face-down in a pool of his own blood.
With the toe of his shoe, Needham kicked Ferris’ body onto its’ back and knelt beside it. It was only upon closer inspection that he realised the projectile was not a throwing knife, but instead the broken end of a katana. He looked up to see where it had been thrown from and made eye contact with Joey Rigger, stood at the other side of the warehouse. He was holding his mask in one hand, his face pale. His other hand was held above his head, which was where it had stayed since he threw the katana moments before.
~-~
The office door swung open, as Franco staggered inside. He looked at the scattered tools along the ground, then at Jenna, and rushed forwards. She struck first.
Franco recoiled, as she plunged a pair of rusty pliers into his collarbone. He dug the tools out, and placed his hand against the wound. “Bitch!” he yelled instinctively, slapping her across the face, knocking her to the ground.
Gar burst through the window above them, flames spitting from the end of his flamethrower. Franco, grabbed Jenna’s arm and dragged her onto the walkway. The warehouse was burning; the crash had caused some damage, yes, but much of the destruction was caused by the Firefly. Behind his mask, Gar’s pupils dilated, and as the flames danced around him, he cackled, blasting a jet of fire at Franco.
Jenna, was hit by one of the flames, marking her right arm. Gar’s lip twitched, the manic expression faded from his face as he dropped the flamethrower and flew over to her side. A large red mark ran down her right arm. She winced as he ran his finger over it.
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” he apologised. “I shouldn’t- I couldn’t-“
Drury’s words echoed in Jenna’s head: ”Garfield Lynns, at his best, is a fiercely loyal, brave, gentle man. At his worst, he’s Firefly. And Firefly could burn us all down. If you can live with that, cool- good luck, hope you’ve got a lot of concealer. But if you can’t, you better let him down easy, or hell mend you. He doesn’t need protection. Never has.”
“It’s ok,” she nodded. “I’m ok.”
Gar nodded back. “Jenna, listen, I know he is, was, your boyfriend-”
“It doesn’t matter,” she spoke. “He’s bloody barmy.”
Franco attacked from behind, wrapping a chain around Gar's throat, and pulling him back. Gar broke free, so Franco lifted the chain above his head, spinning it like a cowboy with a lasso. The metal chain struck Gar's helmet, cracking the red lens, exposing his grey iris. Franco threw the chain again; striking Gar's back; the jetpack was damaged. Gar let out a guttural scream, and tackled Franco off the railing, the two of them landing on the warehouse floor below. As Jenna ran down the stairs after them, her eyes were drawn to a large sledgehammer, propped against the wall. As she lifted the sledgehammer, her knees buckled slightly under the weight, her body shaking as she levelled the hammer. Franco rose to his feet first, followed by Gar. He stepped back towards the hydraulic press, tripping over Ferris’ metal faceplate. Incensed, he grabbed the knife and swung it towards Lynns. Gar backed away, getting a nick across his torso. As Franco swung at him again, Gar ducked. He slashed the wires instead and jumped back, choking as oil splashed across his mask.
Gar lunged forward and punched Franco. His Mask's jaw was dislocated by the impact, hanging loose like a particularly gormless skeleton. Franco clicked the ivory jaw back into place and jabbed the knife forwards, stabbing Gar in the gut. Gar, toppled over.
"For years I worked for Richard Sionis!” Franco bellowed, waving the knife in Gar’s face. “Years! I came from nothing, I had nothing! But I worked hard, did everything he asked, and he damn well knew it! I was going to rule Gotham! He had the paperwork; he was going to hand over Janus; everything was just like it should've been! Then Romy murdered him. His wife too. Made his debut as the Black Mask shortly after and burned any and all documents relating to his old man's wishes. Kept me around as a pity case, but he never respected me. Every Sionis billboard, every Janus ad, those should've been mine!"
Before he could finish Gar off, Jenna swung the hammer forward. As it contacted Franco’s knee, a sickening crunch filled the air as his kneecap fractured. Franco let out a high-pitched scream, as his leg went limp.
“You wanna be Roman Sionis?” Gar panted. “Fine by me!” he yelled, as he kicked Franco into the flames. Franco howled as the flames swallowed him, as his ivory mask burned and fused to his skin, but he wasn’t finished: Franco emerged from the flames; his head on fire; resembling a ghostly rider. Jenna swung the hammer again, striking Franco's skull; his head cracked open; a mix of ivory and bone fragments hit the floor, followed by his body.
The impact killed him instantly.
Jenna's face wobbled, tears fell down her face, and she dropped the sledgehammer to the floor. Suddenly, she hugged Gar, burying her face in his chest. Hesitant at first, Gar placed his arms around her back, and held her tight.
(Consent obtained)Minakshi Bhoyar feeding her new born by Breast Scroll method or Skin-to-Skin contact intervention. This prevents neo-natal deaths in tribal Maharashtra. Infants are put on their mothers' breast immediately after birth. It helps newborns begin suckling, and prevents bacterial infections and hypo glycaemia from setting in. UNICEF is supporting Government of India in bringing down the neo-natal mortality and to save the lives of newborns and mothers in the High Priority District of Gadchiroli,Maharashtra.
Photo: UNICEF India/2017/Ashutosh Sharma
Here is the internals of my bridge you wanted to build. I haven’t properly locked in place yet, but this is spacing I’ve used to have it flush against the skateboard ramps.
Dasypoda are very rare bees, but this morning i found a female. Usally their females don't sleep outside, so i was lucky twice!
Early morning field stack. 61 Images at f4 an 1/13 shutter speed. Stacked in Helicon Focus (Method B + C mixed). Combination of natural light and LED.
Additional Information:
----------------------------------
Date: 04.07.2018
Time: 6:21 am; Sunrise: 4:55 am
City: Hamburg, Germany
Habitat: Fallow, parking area
Temperature: 13°C
Wind: 5 km/h (9 km/h)
Insect Info:
----------------------------------
Kingdom: Animalia
Clade: Euarthropoda
Class: Insecta
Order: Hymenoptera
Family: Melittidae
Genus: Dasypoda
Species: D. hirtipes
Dasypoda hirtipes
Fabricius, 1793
Brenizer Method panorama from 14 images.
80 Megapixels
Effective focal length 70mm
Effective aperture f1.0
Hello everyone! Hope you all are well. So here is my wish list for 2020.
Last year I had gone a tad over budget. About a thousand dollars over budget. Yes, I know, tut tut and all that. And this year it has to be a very different story. As you all may know I am getting married this year. All of the money we had saved for the weddings gone as we had to move out late last year. It has been trying and the wedding is going to be a budget one, so I can't really buy much this year in terms of dolls but I can still wish.
My collection also went through a drastic change last year. I went crazy on Superstar, found I wasn't too fond of MOD, and even ventured into the 00s. I cleaned out my collection twice using the KonMari method. And discovered more about what I really do and really do not like.
So rather than flittering away my money on lots of small things I "wouldn't mind" or that would "provide content" for my YouTube channel. I am going to start focusing on the things that are ACTUALLY on my wish list.
My complete Wish List consists of only 38 items now. Crazy isn't it!? Why is it so small you ask? Well, I am now able to tell more accurately what I genuinely like and I have been collecting for a few years now and have obtained most of the smaller, cheaper, and easier to find items I wanted. The 38 that remain are either HTF or quite pricey.
So These are the 6 I am going to try to focus on this year. I allow myself a $2000 budget each year. So that is roughly $333 every two months for each item. I may or may not be able to obtain these items for that price, but I am determined to keep my spending under control this year. I had actually already obtained one of these items late last year after creating this image, with the help of the beautiful Fashion Photo Elaine. Thank you Elaine!
Wish me luck! And don't forget to share your Wish List and tag me too please :D
A total of 15 images stitched together. Original is a bit over 90 megapixels. This was the first time it actually went right.
Just after dawn.
flickr is a horrid display method for the 4x5 medium...this is meant to be viewed quite large, where you have to dive in deep and move your head around to see everything. Wrong tool for the job, but, oh well...:)
large on B l a c k M a g i c
or go to 'Original' and play 'find the object': a campfire, a tent, Greyhound Rock, a ladder, Highway 1, Pelican Rock, a sea arch, Ano Nuevo SP, the trail down to Waddell reefs, the entrance to another sea arch, and huge (painful) fields of poison oak to get here.
This is really rare, as the ocean was completely flat. The whitewater is from a 3" wave, rolling along over 15 seconds. Usually, there's either south or NW groundswell in the water or, at least for the summer months, choppy windswell from the incessant, fog-bearing NW wind. This is late July, and I've never seen this part of the coast dead calm.
Assembly method of the hut. I've left the outer details off, since anyone could probably derive them from the previous images =>
PS. There are doubtless more elegant ways of effecting this solution, and if I built it in 'real brick' obviously some tidying would be carried out! Incidentally, the angles on the hinge bricks are 14.05° and 37.7°.
PPS. Apologies, the Dark Blue 1x4 tile should be a STUDDED plate in Bright Yellowish Green. Sorry.
"The method of writing smooth narrative can't be right. Things don't happen in one's mind like that. We experience, all the time, an overlapping of IMAGES and ideas, and modern novels should convey our mental confusion instead of neatly rearranging it. The READER must sort it out"
Virginia Woolf (the capital was my own wish...)