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Built for the “Équipage à l'abordage” collaborative contest on the french forum Brickpirate, for the theme "Pink"

 

The crew of The Medusa consists of Lokiloki, Pistash and Lufobrick.

 

Their opponents are the crew of The Sea Guardian's King (SGK), composed of Seb71, Guilego and Konix.

 

After weeks of misfortune at sea, the crew of the SGK made a stop on a large island lost in the middle of the ocean. One morning, shortly after sunrise, the captain set out to explore the surroundings: an expanse of dunes, mangroves, and marshes stretched as far as the eye could see. The atmosphere was peaceful; the water was disturbed only by a few patches of sand. The wind, light but steady, did not seem to trouble the multitude of birds, insects, and fish that inhabited the marsh. Suddenly, the captain spotted on the horizon a massive pink shape that seemed to hover above the water. He decided to approach it discreetly to observe it more closely.

 

Yumká, having sensed movement in the tall grass, turned its head to the other side of the stream. On its back, Tikal guided it methodically, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to frighten the prey. This native woman belonged to a local tribe with a long-standing tradition of hunting and fishing, who knew the marsh like the back of their hand. Her people took only what was necessary in order to preserve this environment, which they considered a jewel. The giant pink flamingos, a rare species endemic to the island, had been domesticated for generations. Yumká was far more than a mount or a beast of burden : it was a true hunting partner. Gifted with keen hearing, it could anticipate the movements of prey, and its extraordinary size allowed Tikal to cross dunes and waterways with ease.

 

Tikal raised her spear, her eyes fixed on the bush, and approached it slowly. Suddenly, a strange black hat emerged, then two raised hands, and finally a pale, shivering face. It was not a fox or an otter, but indeed a man in odd attire, his clothes in tatters. Strangers were rare on the island, but always treated with respect. Moved by pity, Tikal handed him a cloth bundle filled with grilled fish and berries, then set off again to hunt on Yumká’s back, without a word.

 

Instagram: www.instagram.com/loic.glbr

To make this piece, I followed a method I created around this time last year that involves cutting spaces out of a large image, pasting it on a piece of cardstock, filling in the gaps with doodles, and then collaging on top. I enjoy inventing methods of doing things, following these methods consistently, and seeing how they gradually evolve over time. If you are a fellow artist, is your process more methodical or fluid?

 

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Some test shots from the square 24mm by 24mm pinhole camera using 3D printed parts. I have made several small adjustments and I'm working in the right direction. There are still some adjustments to make but I'm working through them in a methodical manner.

 

One issue I've worked through is the .05mm pinhole I started with. That is simply too small and caused light turbulence at the opening resulting in a very fuzzy image. The larger .10 pinhole is better but it is over-exposing due to the very short 11mm focal length. The .05 pinhole was f260 while the .10 pinhole is f110. A sunny-16 light situation is 1.9 seconds on the .05 pinhole and is 1/2 second on the .10 pinhole. That's awfully fast, even for the pinch-and-reveal method.

 

It appears I am exposing the sprockets in the frame so I need to work on lowering the film just a bit. That shouldn't be too much of an issue but I'll tackle that after I finalize the lensboard/shutter design that uses magnets. I am printing an updated version that is a bit thicker than the working version to see if I can address some of the light leak in the image.

 

After these issues are addressed I will be working on the sprocket-calculated film advance mechanism (currently a 1/2 turn-or-so-guesstimation system) so there is no film wasted.

 

Camera: 135 Pin V7.0

Lens: 0.10mm Laser Drilled Pinhole from Fireseller66 on eBay

Film: Ultrafine Extreme 100

Developer: Xtol

Scanner: Epson V600

Photoshop: Curves, Healing Brush (spotting)

Cropping: None

The alarm hits Shauzia Bhatia like ice water. At first, she thinks it’s a dream; the blaring of the sirens, the shouting of someone over the loudspeaker, and the swinging open of her door. She rubs the back of her neck and grimaces as her fingers run over the little ‘x’, branded there, healing slowly.

 

She waits a few minutes until she sees two men in prison uniforms rush by, shouting to each other over the alarm about a “gear room”, and how the “missions keep getting more abrupt.” Slowly, cautiously, she steps out of her cell, hands pressed to her ears for the noise, and begins to walk after them.

 

Across the walkways, another man strides the opposite direction.

 

His brain pulsing, he wanders casually through the hallways as prisoners shout and screech at him, clawing past their bars or hammering on their glass. Some of them recognize him. The ones he wants to recognize him recognize him. The others, seeing anything else, continue their mad jabbering.

 

He smiles despite himself. He had originally turned down Rustam’s offer to join Onslaught, but after the second time, after he considered the possibilities, it was too tasty to say no.

 

Casually, he opens a door, his mental shield cloaking himself. Inside, one man, in tunic and tiny hat, darts around frantically, as another, in full costume, lays prone in bed.

 

Boomerang, shouting: Bloody hell Lawton, how’n God’s name are ya sleeping through this bally row! S’like the screeching o’ all the castrated angels in Heaven!

 

Deadshot, asleep: zzzzzzz

 

Boomerang kicks him: Strewth mate, wake the hell up! We got a ruddy emergency and you’re off in dreamland!

 

Captain Boomerang, with a mighty shove, kicks Deadshot out of bed and onto the floor. His slumber is unbroken. Amused, their observer remains.

 

Suddenly, the alarm cuts out. There’s a moment of silence save for the raving of Boomerang. Then, the alarm clock next to Deadshot’s bed springs to life, spitting out a tinny rendition of “Cats in the Cradle.” The radio only get four words in before it’s shattered by a bullet.

 

Deadshot: Damn, I hate that song.

 

Boomerang: Oh NOW you’re all rise and shine. There’s a bloody war or something going on out there, mate.

 

Deadshot: War can wait. Needed my sleep.

 

He sits up and adjusts his eye-piece, looking automatically around the room. Suddenly, he stands and trains both his wrist guns at the door.

 

Boomerang, panicked: What, WHAT, Bloody what?

 

Deadshot: Dunno who or what you are, but you better cut that invisible man shit out. I just woke up, and I don’t have much patience when I just wake up.

 

Boomerang: or ever, really.

 

Their observer smiles, takes a step forward, and lowers his mental shields. He smiles, his brain visibly pulsating, his pink eyes glaring out from under his chalky brow.

 

Their observer: Hello, gentlemen, my name is Psimon, how do you do.

 

Deadshot: Doesn’t matter. Hope your house is in order, Psi.

 

Deadshot tries to fire, but for some reason, he can’t make himself do it.

 

Psimon: Ah, ah, ah, tiger, not so fast. I don’t think you wanna harm little old me. You just wanna stand there a minute. Maybe wake up a little. Rub the sleep outta your eyes.

 

Boomerang slides a ‘rang out from the back of his belt, and gets ready to slice it through the air underhand. He doesn’t know what kind of boomerang it is; he’s hoping it’s explosive. Strangely, he can’t bring himself to toss it either.

 

Psimon: Now my good captain, you don’t want to hurt me, no, no, I think you want to hurt our friend here. Why don’t you tell him how you feel. What’s hidden deep in your mind.

 

Boomerang: Yeah . . . Yeah! I bloody well will! Y’know what Lawton, y’think you’re so high’n Mighty, just cause The Wall placed ya in charge. Well y’ain’t really in charge! You’re just some drongo poser, takin’ all the credit, and all the glory for yerself!

 

He throws the boomerang from his belt at Deadshot, who just manages to break free and dodge it. It explodes on the far wall. Digger flicks two razor-boomerangs into his hands and advances,

 

Boomerang: Waller came to me, y’know, didn’t even come see ya in person. Y’just assumed leadership! Nobody asked ya! Especially not me!

 

Deadshot raises his hands defensively as Boomerang tackles him hard and begins to slash at him, his boomerangs clanging against the steel of Deadshot’s wrist-cannons.

 

Boomerang: Well I. Have had. E-fucking-nough!

 

He breaks past Deadshot’s arms and begins to stab him in the torso. Deadshot shouts in frustration. He makes a split-second decision. He grits his teeth, and fires.

 

A shot rings out as a bullet tears through the left cheek of Digger Harkness, sending blood and skin and a few teeth spattering against the wall. Captain Boomerang howls and rolls to the floor. Deadshot stands, bleeding and panting. Psimon merely laughs.

 

Psimon: Nowww, you’re not going to stand for that sort of insubordination, are you Deadhead? Tut, tut, such a sore loser. Do us both a favor and finish him off, will you?

 

Deadshot takes aim. There’s a screaming in the back of his head that he can’t hear. For the first time, its’s a true struggle to pull the trigger. He begins to sweat, to try and tear his arms away from the bloody, writhing Australian on the floor. He feels his trigger fingers begin to twitch.

 

Psimon’s laughing reverberates through the room, shrill and mirthful. He laughs until his eyes are closed. When he opens them again, he finds himself in a cold, white room, entirely stark. In confusion, he begins to feel around, mentally probing the edges, sending out thought waves. He attempts to cast an illusion, but nothing happens. Frantically, he begins to search for an out. To shriek and cry and pound at the walls with his fists, both physically and mentally.

 

Psimon: What is this? Who’s there? Who dares try to pull the wool over Psimon’s eyes?

 

But he gets no response in the cold white nothing.

 

In a guardroom of Alcatraz penitentiary, Shauzia Bhatia couches in front of Psimon’s comatose body, swirling her fingers methodically, saying something under her breath. Finally, she stands.

 

Deadshot: You must be the new kid. Hypnota?

 

Shauzia: . . . You are correct mister –

 

Deadshot: Lawton. Floyd Lawton. Deadshot. Pleasure.

 

Hypnota: Pleasure, mister Lawton.

 

Amanda Waller, having just come in from inside, stands in the center of the room with her hands clasped behind her back. Fire still reflects in her eyes.

 

Waller: And you’re certain he’s comatose, Ms. Bhatia?

 

Hypnota: Oh yes, Mrs. Waller, he will not raise from that slumber for a very long time. Maybe ever.

 

Waller: Alright, at least there’s some good news. As for you two-

 

She glares first at Floyd Lawton, smoking blankly, then to Digger Harkness, holding a compress to his bleeding cheek.

 

Waller: I know Psimon’s rap sheet, I know what he’s capable of, and can surmise what happened, but I think there’s something that needs to be said here.

 

There’s a few moments of silence. Then Finally,

 

Digger, quietly,: Lawton, ole mate, I er uh, wanna apologize fer what happened back there. I uh, I weren’t me’self . . . well, you know . . .

 

Floyd, also quietly: It’s fine, Harkness. You didn’t mean no harm, enemy did. Bet you’re glad you got that all off your chest though.

 

Digger: yeah . . .Yeah I guess I am.

 

Floyd: Sorry for shootin’ you.

 

Digger: Hey, snapped me outta it, it did.

 

Waller: Good. At least the blood’s not any worse between you two than it ever was.

 

She hits the intercom on the wall.

 

Waller: Damage report, Patten?

 

Harley, over intercom: Hiya, guys!

 

Answer, also over intercom: Well uh, if you couldn’t tell, the shrink’s holed up in here with me. We managed to purge Djinn from the electronic systems, in a masterstroke of engineering. You can thank us later. Damage is at it’s worst out in the front yard, but that’s nothing a little lawn-work won’t fix. Murph figures we lost about fifteen guys with ten more in the infirmary. Not our best, but not our worst either. Squad itself suffered no casualties save for Donny, and of the Jihad/Onslaught/Burning whatever guys, Ravan was taken alive. The rest were KIA by our own merry band.

 

Waller: Thank you both. As long as all systems are operational, and this island hasn’t sunk into the bay we’re alright. Patten, I want you to work with Murph and send out condolences to the families of all those lost. Ms. Bhatia, if you could please return to your cell, I’d appreciate that greatly.

 

Shauzia nods politely, then heads down the hall back to her cell.

 

Floyd finishes his cigarette, but instead of flicking it into the trash bin across the room, he simply sets the butt on the nightstand and lights another. He hands it to Harkness, who winces as he takes a drag. Floyd, gently pats his bandaged stab wounds, clasps his hands, and stares into nothing.

 

Waller: As for you two. It might be shocking to hear me say this, but as volunteers, as employees of this penitentiary, you’ve gained a substantial amount of vacation days. I advise you both to utilize them. Floyd, go see Michelle and Zoe. Digger, there’s some mail of yours you should see.

 

Digger: You go through my mail?

 

Waller: Please, I go through everyone’s mail.

 

Answer: Insert obvious Playboy joke here.

 

Waller: Don’t you have reprogramming to do?

 

Answer: yeah, yeah, I can joke and program at the same time (shit, that’s the wrong code.)

 

Waller, heading out the door: Vacation days, both of you. That’s an order.

 

Floyd Lawton and Digger Harkness watch her go, then resume their pained smoking in silence.

 

A storm clears the Pedrick House. This building is the original building that was built in 1770 on the Marblehead side of Salem harbor. The building had many purposes over the years and it's link to Salem was through one of it's owners. William Story bought the building from Pedrick and intended to run his business from there as he was a ship captain and he sailed as Captain of the 1797 version of the Friendship (The link to Salem). The park service managed to get the building transferred to them and Salem's NHS (National Historic site) and then a labor of love began as it was taken apart very methodically and brought to Salem. It was then piece by piece put back together and it sits much as it had in the 1770s through the early 1900s..

Went downtown today to see what the hubub was all about. Outside of my comfort zone. Photographing people and events isn't my forte'. I am mainly into the slow and methodical landscape photos. Living close to DC my wife and I sometimes like to go downtown and witness history. We wanted to see the happenings around the White House. This is the day after the media announced Biden the winner. This isn't meant to be a political statement, just a moment in time.

With Tamron SP AF 70-300mm F/4-5.6 Di VC USD Lens

 

The intermediate egret or yellow-billed egret (Mesophoyx intermedia) is a medium-sized heron, stalks its prey methodically in shallow coastal or fresh water, including flooded fields. It eats fish, frogs, crustaceans and insects. It often nests in colonies with other herons. It is a resident breeder from east Africa across the Indian subcontinent to Southeast Asia and Australia.

 

Gajaldoba is a small village on the western side of Teesta River in the Oodlabari area of Jalpaiguri district (West Bengal, India). Gajaldoba is famous for the dam on River Teesta, constructed for irrigation of agricultural lands, which resulted in a large waterbody upstream and has become home to many migratory birds during the winter. The natural beauty of the place with its view of the forest, river and majestic Kangchenjunga is awe inspiring!

 

The wetland with sprawling vegetation and reedbeds is a safe haven of at least 100 species of birds, primarily the waterfowls, which attracts a number of winter migrants. Birds from Europe, Central and southeast Asia, Ladakh and Himalayas winter here. Gajaldoba now host at least 20,000 waterfowls in the peak season (November to March) and becoming a significant global waterfowl habitat.

 

Gajaldoba took increased prominence due to the state government's initiative to promote a mega tourism hub in the area. An area of more than 200 acres has been demarcated for the purpose and infrastructure is being developed. In the near future, the area is expected to become one of the high end tourist destinations of Bengal.

Dengar could tell by the desolation above the the bounty was gone and by the look of things he didn't leave willingly. Not wanting to leave empty handed he searches through the clutter bits of junk for something of value while trying to decipher who beat him to the mark. Could it have been Fett? No. The Mandalorian wouldn't have left such a disaray. He's far too methodical. One of he IG series? No...Not enough blood. Assassin droids tend to be messy. Only one Bounty Hunter was ruthless and savage enough...The Transdoshan: Bossk.

 

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I'm hooked again and can't wait to have the ESB six in super poseable form. Thanks to Scar for this one! 5 to go!

Outside of my comfort zone. Photographing people and events isn't my forte'. I am mainly into the slow and methodical landscape photos. Living close to DC my wife and I sometimes like to go downtown and witness history. We wanted to see the happenings around the White House. This is the day after the media announced Biden the winner. This isn't meant to be a political statement, just a moment in time.

Green Heron | Insecticide

(click on the image below to view the short video. Also, check out another Green Heron snatching a dragonfly out of the air at this Flickr link: flic.kr/p/2mitVk5 .

 

Watch this Juvenile Green Heron commit Insecticide as in Premeditated Insect Murder by slowly, patiently and methodically sneaking on and swiftly snatching an oblivious resting dragonfly, seemingly an Eastern Pondhawk or a Blue Dasher. Just prior to this shot, the Green Heron had been just as skillfully plucking minnows out of the marsh but will always welcome other menu items offered by this Kingston Wetland. The heron stretched down to get a sip of water to wash the insect down and went back to fishing.

 

This Ridgway's Rail was methodically prowling the dried reeds for prey. Clouds are reflecting off the water in the background.

 

Arrowhead Marsh, MLK Shoreline RP, Oakland, CA

Well, here it is. At last. My F-4J MOC, in the VF-74 "BEDEVILERS" Naval Fighter Squadron. It took loads of work and lots of hours, but I'm so glad I can say I finally did a Phantom.

 

Initially designed with the U.S. Navy in mind, the McDonnell aircraft company -- creator of the F-4 Phantom -- of the early 1950s tirelessly and methodically analyzed the Navy's needs and desires. They determined that the jet ideal for current and future carrier operations was an aircraft that was quick, technologically advanced, and able to fill multiple roles (i.e., dogfighting, ground attacks, etc.). Initially, designers from McDonnell wanted to modify their F3H Demon aircraft to simply be faster, more modular (to perhaps have different nose or cockpit variations), and more efficient. However, while beginning to proceed with this idea, many Naval officers consented that they had the role of an attack fighter already fulfilled by emerging aircraft from other companies. Eventually, McDonnell started working on a highly-requested all-weather defensive interceptor that would become the F-4 Phantom. Though this was a tall order to fill, F-4 deliveries began in the early 1960s to the U.S. Navy, and, proving highly versatile, eventually was given to the U.S. Marine Corps and U.S. Air Force.

 

The F-4J is one, later variant of the Phantom family, and with modifications to the airframe, engines and weapons systems, it was certainly one of the more advanced models. In fact, it was the first fighter in the world to incorporate a look-down/shoot-down targeting system. Among the Naval Fighter Squadrons that recieved the F-4Js, the VF-74 "BEDEVILERS" were certainly some of the finest that received them. Transitioning from their F-4Bs to the new F-4Js in the early 1970s, they partook in aerial combat in Vietnam, and didn't lose a single aircraft to enemy forces. They were also successful elsewhere, winning many awards during peacetime -- one of which was the Admiral Joseph Clifton Award, rendering them as the top Naval Fighter squadron in 1976. My F-4J is in a typical, later skin they'd use on the USS Forrestal (CV-59) aircraft carrier.

 

My model itself features dual, opening canopies, room for two minifigures in their respective tandem cockpit arrangement, functioning landing gear, and a simulated loadout of two AIM-7 Sparrows and four AIM-9 Sidewinders. I worked very tirelessly on both the diorama and the jet, and I do hope you like it. Comments, faves, and constructive criticisms, as always, are greatly appreciated!

The Resurrection is a fresco painting by the Italian Renaissance master Piero della Francesca, painted in the 1460s in the Palazzo della Residenza in the town of Sansepolcro, Tuscany, Italy.

Piero was commissioned to paint the fresco for the Gothic-style Residenza, the communal meeting hall which was used solely by Conservatori, the chief magistrates and governors, who, before starting their councils, would pray before the image. "The secular and spiritual meanings of the painting were always intimately intertwined." Placed high on the interior wall facing the entrance, the fresco has for its subject an allusion to the name of the city (meaning "Holy Sepulchre"), derived from the presence of two relics of the Holy Sepulchre carried by two pilgrims in the 9th century. Piero's Christ is also present on the town's coat of arms.

Jesus is in the centre of the composition, portrayed in the moment of his resurrection, as suggested by the position of the leg on the parapet of his tomb, which Piero renders as a classical sarcophagus. His stern, impassive figure, depicted in an iconic and abstract fixity (and described by Aldous Huxley as "athletic"), rises over four sleeping soldiers, representing the difference between the human and the divine spheres (or the death, defeated by Christ's light). His figure in the commune's council hall "both protects the judge and purifies the judged" according to Marilyn Aronberg Lavin. The landscape, immersed in the dawn light, has also a symbolic value: the contrast between the flourishing young trees on the right and the bare mature ones on the left alludes to the renovation of men through the Resurrection's light.

Andrew Graham-Dixon notes that apart from the wound, Christ's "body is as perfectly sculpted and as blemish-free as that of an antique statue. But there are touches of intense humanity about him too: the unidealised, almost coarse-featured face; and those three folds of skin that wrinkle at his belly as he raises his left leg. Piero emphasises his twofold nature, as both man and God."

The guard holding the lance is depicted sitting in an anatomically impossible pose, and appears to have no legs. Piero probably left them out so as not to break the balance of the composition.

According to tradition and by comparison with the woodcut illustrating Giorgio Vasari's Lives of the Painters, the sleeping soldier in brown armor on Christ's right is a self-portrait of Piero. The contact between the soldier's head and the pole of the banner carried by Christ is supposed to represent his contact with the divinity.

The composition is unusual in that it contains two vanishing points. One is in the center of the sarcophagus, because the faces of the guards are seen from below, and the other is in Jesus's face. The top of the sarcophagus forms a boundary between the two points of view, and the steepness of the hills prevents the transition between the two points of view from being too jarring.

Sansepolcro was spared much damage during World War 2 when British artillery officer Anthony ('Tony') Clarke defied orders and held back from using his troop's guns to shell the town. Although Clarke had never seen the fresco, his diary records his shock at the destruction in Monte Cassino and, apparently remembering where he had read of Sansepolcro, ordered his men to hold fire just as methodical shelling had begun. A lover of art, Clarke had read Huxley's 1925 essay describing the Resurrection, which states: "It stands there before us in entire and actual splendour, the greatest picture in the world." It was later ascertained that the Germans were in retreat from the area – the bombardment had not been necessary, though Clarke had not known this when he ordered the shelling stopped. The town, along with its famous painting, survived. When the events of the episode eventually became clear, Clarke was lauded as a local hero and to this day a street in Sansepolcro bears his name.

Petersburg National Battlefield Park

 

Prologue

 

Between May and mid-June of 1864 the Union army, under General Ulysses S. Grant, and the Confederate army, under General Robert E. Lee, engaged in a series of hard-fought battles in what is now called the Overland Campaign. Cold Harbor was the last battle of this campaign and was a crushing Union loss. This forced Grant to abandoned his plan to capture Richmond by direct assault.

 

The Key to Richmond

 

Only twenty-five miles south of Richmond, Petersburg was an important supply center to the Confederate capital. With it's five railroad lines and key roads, both Grant and Lee knew if these could be cut Petersburg could no longer supply Richmond with much needed supplies and subsistence. Without this Lee would be forced to leave both cities.

 

The Siege

 

Grant pulls his army out of Cold Harbor and crosses the James River heading towards Petersburg. For several days Lee does not believe Grant's main target is Petersburg and so keeps most of his army around Richmond. Between June 15-18, 1864 Grant throws his forces against Petersburg and it may have fallen if it were not for the Federal commanders failing to press their advantage and the defense put up by the few Confederates holding the lines. Lee finally arrives on June 18 and after four days of combat with no success Grant begins siege operations.

 

This, the longest siege in American warfare, unfolded in a methodical manner. For nearly every attack the Union made around Petersburg another was made at Richmond and this strained the Confederate's manpower and resources. Through this strategy Grant's army gradually and relentlessly worked to encircle Petersburg and cut Lee's supply lines from the south. For the Confederates it was ten months of hanging on, hoping the people of the North would tire of the war. For soldiers of both armies it was ten months of rifle bullets, artillery, and mortar shells, relieved only by rear-area tedium, drill and more drill, salt pork and corn meal, burned beans and bad coffee.

 

By October 1864 Grant had cut off the Weldon Railroad and continued west to further tighten the noose around Petersburg. The approach of winter brought a general halt to activities. Still there was the every day skirmishing, sniper fire, and mortar shelling.

 

In early February 1865 Lee had only 45,000 soldiers to oppose Grant's force of 110,000 men. Grant extended his lines southwesterly to Hatcher's Run and forced Lee to lengthen his own thinly stretched defenses.

 

By mid-March it was apparent to Lee that Grant's superior force would either get around the Confederate right flank or pierce the line somewhere along it's 37-mile length. Th Southern commanders hoped to break the Union stranglehold on Petersburg by a surprise attack on Grant. This resulted in the Confederate loss at Fort Stedman and would be Lee's last grand offensive of the war.

 

The End

 

With victory near, Grant unleashed General Phillip Sheridan at Five Forks on April 1, 1865. His objective was the South Side Railroad, the last rail line into Petersburg. Sheridan, with the V Corps, smashed the Confederate forces under General George Pickett and opening access to the tracks beyond. On April 2, Grant ordered an all-out assault, and Lee's right flank crumbled. A Homeric defense at Confederate Fort Gregg saved Lee from possible street fighting in Petersburg. On the night of April 2, Lee evacuated Petersburg. The final surrender at Appomattox Court House was but a week away.

 

Schweiz / Berner Oberland - Jungfrau

 

seen on descent from Morgenberghorn

 

gesehen auf Abstieg vom Morgenberghorn

 

The Jungfrau (YOONG-frow[c], German pronunciation: [ˈjʊŋˌfʁaʊ̯], transl. "maiden, virgin"), at 4,158 meters (13,642 ft) is one of the main summits of the Bernese Alps, located between the northern canton of Bern and the southern canton of Valais, halfway between Interlaken and Fiesch. Together with the Eiger and Mönch, the Jungfrau forms a massive wall of mountains overlooking the Bernese Oberland and the Swiss Plateau, one of the most distinctive sights of the Swiss Alps.

 

The summit was first reached on August 3, 1811, by the Meyer brothers of Aarau and two chamois hunters from Valais. The ascent followed a long expedition over the glaciers and high passes of the Bernese Alps. It was not until 1865 that a more direct route on the northern side was opened.

 

The construction of the Jungfrau Railway in the early 20th century, which connects Kleine Scheidegg to the Jungfraujoch, the saddle between the Mönch and the Jungfrau, made the area one of the most-visited places in the Alps. Along with the Aletsch Glacier to the south, the Jungfrau is part of the Jungfrau-Aletsch area, which was declared a World Heritage Site in 2001.

 

Etymology

 

The name Jungfrau ("maiden, virgin"), which refers to the highest of the three prominent mountains overlooking the Interlaken region, along with the Mönch ("monk") and the Eiger ("ogre"), is most likely derived from the name Jungfrauenberg given to Wengernalp, the alpine meadow directly facing the huge northern side of the Jungfrau, across the Trummelbach gorge. Wengernalp was so named for the nuns of Interlaken Monastery, its historical owner. Contrary to popular belief, the name did not originate from the appearance of the snow-covered mountain, the latter looking like a veiled woman.

 

The "virgin" peak was heavily romanticized as "goddess" or "priestess" in late 18th to 19th century Romanticism. Its summit, considered inaccessible, remained untouched until the 19th century. After the first ascent in 1811 by Swiss alpinist Johann Rudolf Meyer, the peak was jokingly referred to as "Mme Meyer" (Mrs. Meyer).

 

Geographic setting

 

Politically, the Jungfrau (and its massif) is split between the municipalities of Lauterbrunnen (Bern) and Fieschertal (Valais). It is the third-highest mountain of the Bernese Alps after the nearby Finsteraarhorn and Aletschhorn, respectively 12 and 8 km (7.5 and 5 mi) away. But from Lake Thun, and the greater part of the canton of Bern, it is the most conspicuous and the nearest of the Bernese Oberland peaks; with a height difference of 3,600 m (11,800 ft) between the summit and the town of Interlaken. This, and the extreme steepness of the north face, secured for it an early reputation for inaccessibility.

 

The Jungfrau is the westernmost and highest point of a gigantic 10 km (6.2 mi) wall dominating the valleys of Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald. The wall is formed by the alignment of some of the biggest north faces in the Alps, with the Mönch (4,107 m or 13,474 ft) and Eiger (3,967 m or 13,015 ft) to the east of the Jungfrau, and overlooks the valleys to its north by a height of up to 3 km (1.9 mi). The Jungfrau is approximately 6 km (3.7 mi) from the Eiger; with the summit of the Mönch between the two mountains, 3.5 km (2.2 mi) from the Jungfrau. The Jungfraujoch is the saddle between the Jungfrau and the Mönch and the Eigerjoch is the saddle between the Mönch and the Eiger. The wall is extended to the east by the Fiescherwand and to the west by the Lauterbrunnen Wall, although it follows different directions from the Jungfrau and the Eiger.

 

The difference of altitude between the deep valley of Lauterbrunnen (800 m or 2,600 ft) and the summit is particularly visible from the area of Mürren. From the valley floor, west of the massif, the altitude gain is more than 3 km (1.9 mi) for a horizontal distance of 4 km (2.5 mi).

 

The landscapes around the Jungfrau are extremely contrasted. In contrast to the vertiginous precipices of its northwest, the mountain's southeastern side emerges from the upper snows of the Jungfraufirn, one of the main feeders of the Aletsch Glacier, at around 3,500 meters (11,500 ft). The 20-kilometer-long (12 mi) valley of Aletsch on the southeast is completely uninhabited, and is surrounded by neighboring valleys with similar landscapes. The area as a whole constitutes the largest glaciated area not just in the Alps, but in Europe as well.

 

Climbing history

 

In 1811, the brothers Johann Rudolf (1768–1825) and Hieronymus Meyer, sons of Johann Rudolf Meyer (1739–1813), the head of a rich merchant family of Aarau, along with several servants and a porter picked up at Guttannen, first reached the Valais by way of the Grimsel, and crossed the Beich Pass, a glacier pass over the Oberaletsch Glacier, to the head of the Lötschen valley. There, they added two local chamois hunters, Alois Volken and Joseph Bortis, to their party and traversed the Lötschenlücke before reaching the Aletschfirn (the west branch of the Aletsch Glacier), where they established the base camp, north of the Aletschhorn. After the Guttannen porter was sent back alone over the Lötschenlücke, the party finally reached the summit of the Jungfrau by the Rottalsattel on August 3. They then recrossed the two passes named to their point of departure in Valais, and went home again over the Grimsel.

 

The journey was a most extraordinary one for the time, and some persons threw doubts at its complete success. To settle these, another expedition was undertaken in 1812. In this the two sons, Rudolf (1791–1833) and Gottlieb (1793–1829), of Johann Rudolf Meyer, played the chief parts. After an unsuccessful attempt, defeated by bad weather, in the course of which the Oberaarjoch was crossed twice (this route being much more direct than the long detour through the Lötschental), Rudolf, with the two Valais hunters (Alois Volker and Joseph Bortis), a Guttannen porter named Arnold Abbühl, and a Hasle man, bivouacked on a depression on the southeast ridge of the Finsteraarhorn. Next day (August 16) the whole party attempted the ascent of the Finsteraarhorn from the Studer névé on the east by way of the southeast ridge, but Meyer, exhausted, remained behind. The following day the party crossed the Grünhornlücke to the Aletsch Glacier, but bad weather then put an end to further projects. At a bivouac, probably just opposite the present Konkordia Hut, the rest of the party, having come over the Oberaarjoch and the Grünhornlücke, joined the Finsteraarhorn party. Gottlieb, Rudolf's younger brother, had more patience than the rest and remained longer at the huts near the Märjelensee, where the adventurers had taken refuge. He could make the second ascent (September 3) of the Jungfrau, the Rottalsattel being reached from the east side as is now usual, and his companions being the two Valais hunters.

 

The third ascent dates from 1828, when several men from Grindelwald, headed by Peter Baumann, planted their flag upon the summit. Next came the ascent by Louis Agassiz, James David Forbes, Heath, Desor, and Duchatelier in 1841, recounted by Desor in his Excursions et Séjours dans les Glaciers. Gottlieb Samuel Studer published an account of the next ascent made by himself and Bürki in 1842.

 

In 1863, a party consisting of three young Oxford University graduates and three Swiss guides successfully reached the summit and returned to the base camp of the Faulberg (located near the present position of the Konkordia Hut) in less than 11 hours (see the section below, The 1863 Ascent). In the same year Mrs Stephen Winkworth became the first woman to climb the Jungfrau. She also slept overnight in the Faulberg cave prior to the ascent as there was no hut at that time.

 

Before the construction of the Jungfraujoch railway tunnel, the approach from the glaciers on the south side was very long. The first direct route from the valley of Lauterbrunnen was opened in 1865 by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, H. Brooke George with the guide Christian Almer. They had to carry ladders with them in order to cross the many crevasses on the north flank. Having spent the night on the rocks of the Schneehorn (3,402 m or 11,161 ft) they gained next morning the Silberlücke, the depression between the Jungfrau and Silberhorn, and thence in little more than three hours reached the summit. Descending to the Aletsch Glacier they crossed the Mönchsjoch, and passed a second night on the rocks, reaching Grindelwald next day. This route became a usual until the opening of the Jungfraujoch.

 

The first winter ascent was made on 23 January 1874, by Meta Brevoort and W. A. B. Coolidge with guides Christian and Ulrich Almer. They used a sled to reach the upper Aletsch Glacier, and were accompanied by Miss Brevoort's favorite dog, Tschingel.

 

The Jungfrau was climbed via the west side for the first time in 1885 by Fritz and Heinrich von Allmen, Ulrich Brunner, Fritz Graf, Karl Schlunegger and Johann Stäger—all from Wengen. They ascended the Rottal ridge (Innere Rottalgrat) and reached the summit on 21 September. The more difficult and dangerous northeast ridge that connects the summit from the Jungfraujoch was first climbed on 30 July 1911 by Albert Weber and Hans Schlunegger.

 

In July 2007, six Swiss Army recruits, part of the Mountain Specialists Division 1, died in an accident on the normal route. Although the causes of the deaths was not immediately clear, a report by the Swiss Federal Institute for Snow and Avalanche Research concluded that the avalanche risk was unusually high due to recent snowfall, and that there was "no other reasonable explanation" other than an avalanche for the incident.

 

The 1863 Ascent

 

The Führerbuch of the Alpine guide Peter Baumann records an ascent of the Jungfrau made by himself with three men from England in July 1863. The foreign climbers were long thought to have been John Tyndall, J.J. Hornby and T.H. Philpott, until in 1958 the records were checked by the Alpine Club and the following conclusion was reached:

 

On July 23, 1963, Phillpotts, with James Robertson and H.J. Chaytor, climbed the Jungfrau (the entry shown in A.J. 32. 227 was wrongly transcribed by Montagnier, who says ‘T.H. Philpott’ for J.S. Phillpotts). The entry in Peter Baumann’s Führerbuch (facsimile in A.C. archives) says that the trio crossed the Strahlegg Pass and the Oberaarjoch, and then climbed the Jungfrau from the Eggishorn.

 

Tyndall, Hornby and Philpott were well-known Alpinists, but there is no record of their having attempted the Jungfrau in 1863. Robertson, Chaytor and Phillpotts were novices; they had recently graduated from Oxford University where they had all been keen members of the Oxford University Boat Club.

 

William Robertson (1839–1892), the leader of the expedition (wrongly called ‘James’ in the Note quoted above), was an Australian by birth, and the first non-British national to take part in the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race. He later became a barrister and member of parliament in Australia. He and H.J. Chaytor (possibly the father of the medievalist Henry John Chaytor) were both members of the victorious Oxford team in the 1861 Boat Race. James Surtees Phillpotts (1839–1930) was the third member of the team; he would later become headmaster of Bedford School. The trio had three Swiss guides, Peter Baumann, Peter Kaufmann ("Grabipeter", father of Peter Kaufmann the younger) and Rubi.

 

A description of the ascent of the Jungfrau is contained in a letter dated Sunday 26 July which Phillpotts wrote to his friend Alexander Potts (later to become the first headmaster of Fettes College). The letter is now in the possession of the Alpine Club. The following extracts are from that letter.

 

The Virgin certainly did not smile on the poor "fools who rushed in" on her sacred heights, i.e. in plain British, we had the treadmill slog, the biting wind, the half frost-bitten feet and the flayed faces that generally attend an Alpine ascent.

 

We got to the Faulberg hole about dark, and enjoyed the coffee the longman (Kauffmann) made, as one would in a hole in a rock in a cold evening. The "Faulberg Nachtlager" consists of two holes and a vestibule to the upper hole. The Upper Hole in which we lodged just contained Chay[tor], the Guv [Robertson] and myself, stretched at full length on a little hay over a hard rock mattress, convex instead of concave at the point where one likes to rest one's weight. Chaytor was in the middle, and as we were very close was warm and slept. The Guv and I courted Nature's soft nurse in vain. At two we got up and methodically put our feet into the stocks, i.e. our boots, breakfasted and shivered, then started (unwashed of course, as the cold gave us malignant hydrophobia) a little after 3:30.

 

The hole was about 150 feet [46 m] up one of the loose stone cliffs one now knows so well. So we groped our way down it and over the moraine – the stars still lingering, as day was just dawning. We could not start at 1:30, the proper time, as there was no moon and we wanted light as we had to tramp the glacier at once. Rubi led, and off we went, roped and in Indian file, in the old treadmill way over the slippery plowed-field-like snow that lay on the upper glacier, for a pull without a check of one or two hours.

 

At last we came to the region of bergschrunds and crevasses. They seemed to form at first an impassable labyrinth, but gradually the guides wound in and out between the large rifts, which were exquisitely lovely with their overhanging banks of snow and glittering icicles, and then trod as on pins and needles over a snowbridge here and there, or had to take a jump over the more feasible ones – and we found ourselves at the foot of the mountain; trudged up on the snow which ought to have been crisp but was even then more or less fresh fallen and sloppy; had to creep over about three crevasses, and after a tiresome pull, dragging one leg after another out of ankle or knee deep snow, we got on a crest of snow at right angles to the slope we had just come up. That slope with its crevasses on one side, and on the other a shorter and much steeper one which led in a few steps to a precipice.

 

All along this crest went a snakelike long crevasse, for which we had continually to sound, and go first one side and then the other; then we got to the foot of the saddle. Some twenty or thirty steps, some cut, some uncut, soon took us up a kind of hollow, and we got on a little sloping plateau of some six feet [1.8 m] large, where we left the grub and the knapsack, keeping my small flask of cognac only. Then up a steep ice slope, very steep I should say, down which the bits of ice cut out of the steps hopped and jumped at full gallop and then bounded over to some bottomless place which we could not see down. Their pace gave one an unpleasant idea of the possible consequence of a slip.

 

Here we encountered a biting bitter wind. Peter Baumann cut magnificent steps, at least he and Rubi did between them, the one improving on the other's first rough blows. After Rubi came Chaytor with Kauffmann behind him, then the Guv, and then myself, the tail of the string. Each step was a long lift from the last one, and as the snow was shallow they had to be cut in the ice which was like rock on this last slope.

 

Suddenly there burst upon us, on lifting our heads over the ridge, the green and cheerful valleys of Lauterbrunnen and Interlaken, of Grindelwald and a distant view of others equally beautiful stretching on for ever in one vast panorama. On the other side in grim contrast there was a wild and even awful scene. One gazed about one and tried in vain to see to the bottom of dark yawning abysses and sheer cliffs of ice or rock.

 

Tourism

 

Named after the Jungfrau, the Jungfrau Region of the Bernese Oberland is a major tourist destination in the Alps and includes a large number of railways and other facilities. While the mountain peak was once difficult to access, the Jungfrau Railway, a rack railway, now goes to the Jungfraujoch railway station at 3,454 m (11,332 ft), therefore providing an easy access to the upper Aletsch Glacier and a relatively short access to the Jungfrau itself, the height difference between the station and the summit being only 704 metres and the horizontal distance being slightly less than 2 kilometres. As a result, in the popular mind, the Jungfrau has become a mountain associated with the Bernese Oberland and Interlaken, rather than with Upper Valais and Fiesch.

 

In 1893, Adolf Guyer-Zeller conceived of the idea of a railway tunnel to the Jungfraujoch to make the glaciated areas on its south side more accessible. The building of the tunnel took 16 years and the summit station was not opened before 1912. The goal was in fact to reach the summit of the Jungfrau with an elevator from the highest railway station, located inside the mountain. The complete project was not realized because of the outbreak of the World War I. Nevertheless, it was at the time one of the highest railways in the world and remains today the highest in Europe and the only (non-cable) railway on Earth going well past the perennial snow-line.

 

The Jungfrau Railway leaves from Kleine Scheidegg, which can be reached from both sides by trains from Grindelwald, and Lauterbrunnen via Wengen. The train enters the Jungfrau Tunnel running eastward through the Eiger just above Eigergletscher, which is, since 2020, also accessible by aerial tramway from Grindelwald. Before arriving at the Jungfraujoch, it stops for a few minutes at two other stations, Eigerwand (on the north face of the Eiger) and Eismeer (on the south side), where passengers can see through the holes excavated from the mountain. The journey from Kleine Scheidegg to Jungfraujoch takes approximately 50 minutes including the stops; the downhill return journey taking only 35 minutes.

 

A large complex of tunnels and buildings has been constructed at the Jungfraujoch, referred to as the "Top of Europe". There are several restaurants and bars, shops, multimedia exhibitions, a post office, and a research station with dedicated accommodation facilities. An elevator enables access to the top of the Sphinx and its observatory, at 3,571 m (11,716 ft), the highest viewing platform of the area. Outside, at the level of the Jungfraujoch, there is a ski school, and the "Ice Palace", a collection of elaborate ice sculptures displayed inside the Aletsch Glacier. Another tunnel leads to the east side of the Sphinx, where one can walk on the glacier up to the Mönchsjoch Hut, the only hotel infrastructure in the area.

 

Apart from the Jungfraujoch, many facilities have been built in the Jungfrau Region, including numerous mountain railways. In 1908, the first public cable car in the world, the Wetterhorn Elevator, opened at the foot of the Wetterhorn, but was closed seven years later. The Schilthorn above Mürren, the Männlichen above Wengen, and the Schynige Platte above Wilderswil, offer good views of the Jungfrau and the Lauterbrunnen valley. On the south side, the Eggishorn above Fiesch also offers views of the Jungfrau, across the Aletsch Glacier.

 

Climbing routes

 

The normal route follows the traces of the first climbers, but the long approach on the Aletsch Glacier is no longer necessary. From the area of the Jungfraujoch the route to the summit takes only a few hours. Most climbers start from the Mönchsjoch Hut. After a traverse of the Jungfraufirn the route heads to the Rottalsattel (3,885 m or 12,746 ft), from where the southern ridge leads to the Jungfrau. It is not considered a very difficult climb but it can be dangerous on the upper section above the Rottalsattel, where most accidents happen. The use of the Jungfrau Railway instead of the much more gradual approach from Fiesch (or Fieschertal), via the Konkordia Hut, can cause some acclimatization troubles as the difference of altitude between the railway stations of Interlaken and Jungfraujoch is almost 3 km (1.9 mi).

 

(Wikipedia)

 

The Morgenberghorn is a mountain of the Bernese Alps, overlooking Lake Thun in the Bernese Oberland. It lies at the northern end of the chain between the valleys of Frutigen and Lauterbrunnen, north of the Schwalmere.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Die Jungfrau ist ein Berg in der Schweiz. Sie ist mit 4158 m ü. M. der dritthöchste Berg der Berner Alpen und bildet zusammen mit Eiger und Mönch eine markante Dreiergruppe, ein sogenanntes «Dreigestirn».

 

Am 13. Dezember 2001 wurde die Jungfrau zusammen mit südlich angrenzenden Gebieten als Schweizer Alpen Jungfrau-Aletsch in die Liste als UNESCO-Weltnaturerbe aufgenommen.

 

Lage und Umgebung

 

Über den Jungfrau-Gipfel verläuft die Grenze zwischen den Kantonen Bern und Wallis. Der Berg ist ausserordentlich vielgestaltig. Im Norden und Nordwesten, auf ihrer „weiblichen“ Schauseite (vgl. Foto) sind ihr Wengen-Jungfrau, Schneehorn, das Silberhorn, das Chly Silberhoren und der „Schwarzmönch“ vorgelagert sowie die zerrissenen Kühlauenen- und Giessengletscher. Im Westen erhebt sie sich fast eisfrei volle 3250 Meter über dem hinteren Lauterbrunnental. Es ist dies (nach dem Mont Blanc) der zweithöchste direkte Abhang in den Alpen. Ihre Südwand erhebt sich über dem versteckten Rottalgletscher und ihre Ostwand über den Firnen am Jungfraujoch.

 

Die Pläne, auf die Jungfrau eine Bergbahn zu bauen, wurden aufgrund finanzieller Schwierigkeiten nicht realisiert. Die ursprünglich bis unter den Gipfel geplante Jungfraubahn wurde bis 1912 mit Endstation Jungfraujoch fertiggestellt.

 

Auf dem untersten Absatz des Nordostgrats haben die PTT einen Funk-Umsetzer auf 3777 m ü. M. installiert.

 

Geologie

 

Die Jungfrau liegt im nördlichen Randbereich des Aarmassivs, eines der sogenannten Zentralmassive der Schweizer Alpen. Ihre höheren Lagen (Silberhorn, Wengen-Jungfrau und Hauptgipfel) sowie ihre Westflanke bis hinunter zum oberen Ende des Lauterbrunnentals sind weit überwiegend aus kristallinem Grundgebirge (prä-triassische Gneise, Glimmerschiefer u. ä.) der Helvetischen Zone aufgebaut. Die Nordwestflanke hingegen, der ganze «Vorbau» (Schwarzmönch, Rotbrett und Schneehorn) besteht aus sedimentärem, überwiegend jurassischem und kretazischem Deckgebirge des Helvetikums. Eine Besonderheit der Jungfrau ist, dass dort zwischen dem prinzipiell autochthonen Gipfel-Kristallin und dessen Deckschichten ein Überschiebungs-kontakt besteht; somit ist das Grundgebirge geringfügig auf sein Deckgebirge überschoben worden.

 

Name

 

Der Name Jungfrau dürfte sich von der Wengernalp am Fusse des Berges ableiten, die – nach den Besitzerinnen, den Nonnen vom Kloster Interlaken – früher Jungfrauenberg genannt wurde. Einer anderen Quelle zufolge leitet sich der Name vom Aussehen des Nordhanges des Berges ab, der aus der Ferne dem Schleier eines Mädchens ähneln soll.

 

Nach dem Berg ist die Jungfrau-Region benannt, die Tourismusorganisation der Orte Grindelwald, Wengen, Mürren und Lauterbrunnen, ausserdem die Jungfraubahn Holding AG, die neben der Jungfraubahn selbst auch die anderen Bergbahnen in der Region betreibt.

 

Besteigungsgeschichte

 

Bergsteiger auf dem Gipfel im Jahr 1878

Erstbesteiger waren Johann Rudolf Meyer und sein Bruder Hieronymus mit den Führern Joseph Bortis und Alois Volken, die am 3. August 1811 vom Lötschental her den Berg von Süden erklommen hatten. Sie folgten ungefähr der heutigen Normalroute. Der Volksmund taufte daraufhin die bis dahin unberührte Jungfrau «Madame Meyer».

 

1874 erfolgte die Winter-Erstbesteigung durch die Alpinistin Margaret Claudia Brevoort.

 

Die Jungfrau gilt, obwohl leicht erreichbar, als unfallträchtiger Berg. Bei einem der schwersten Unglücke stürzten am 12. Juli 2007 sechs Rekruten der Gebirgsspezialisten-Rekrutenschule Andermatt vom Rottalsattel 1000 Meter auf den darunterliegenden Rottalgletscher in den Tod, nachdem sie eine Lawine ausgelöst hatten. Das urteilende Militärgericht ging von einem falsch eingeschätzten, heimtückischen Lawinenrisiko aus und sprach in der Folge die verantwortlichen Bergführer frei.

 

Routen

 

Rottalsattel und Südostgrat (Normalroute)

 

Schwierigkeit: ZS-

Zeitaufwand: 4–5 Std. von der Mönchsjochhütte, 3½–4½ Std. vom Jungfraujoch

Ausgangspunkt: Mönchsjochhütte (3657 m)

Talort: Grindelwald (1034 m)

 

Innere Rottalgrat

 

Schwierigkeit: ZS

Zeitaufwand: 6–7 Stunden

Ausgangspunkt: Rottalhütte (2755 m)

Talort: Stechelberg (919 m)

 

Nordwestgrat oder „Rotbrettgrat“

 

Schwierigkeit: S

Zeitaufwand: 8–12 Stunden

Ausgangspunkt: Silberhornhütte (2663 m)

Talort: Stechelberg (919 m)

 

Nordostgrat

 

Schwierigkeit: S+, mit IV. UIAA-Grad Felskletterei

Zeitaufwand: 8–10 Stunden

Ausgangspunkt: Jungfraujoch (3454 m)

Talort: Grindelwald (1034 m)

 

Kunst

 

Erwähnt ist die Jungfrau unter anderem bei Friedrich Schiller, Wilhelm Tell, Vers 628 (1804). Lord Byrons Drama Manfred (1817) spielt am Fuss und auf dem Gipfel des Massivs. Ferdinand Hodler hat die Jungfrau mehrfach gemalt, darunter die perspektivisch verfremdete «Jungfrau über dem Nebelmeer». Alex Diggelmann gab 1958 eine Lithographienmappe unter dem Titel Die Jungfrau, mein Berg heraus. Stephan Bundi gestaltete 2005 eine Schweizer Gedenkmünze mit dem Bergmotiv.

 

Im Januar 2012 wurde zum 100-jährigen bestehen der Jungfraubahn eine übergrosse Schweizer Flagge vom Lichtkünstler Gerry Hofstetter an den Gipfel projiziert. Zeitweise waren neben dem Schweizer Kreuz auch ein Porträt des Zürcher Unternehmers Adolf Guyer-Zeller sowie ein Bild von einem der Züge zu sehen.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Das Morgenberghorn ist ein 2249 m ü. M. hoher Berg am Südufer des Thunersees im Berner Oberland in der Schweiz. Es liegt im Westen des Saxettals.

 

Der Gipfel des Morgenberghorns ist nur zu Fuss erreichbar. Der Aufstieg erfordert keine Bergsteigerkenntnisse, jedoch Trittsicherheit. Aufstiegsmöglichkeiten bestehen ab Leissigen und Aeschi über den Nordwestgrat und von Saxeten aus über den Rengglipass und den Südgrat. Der Nordostgrat von Interlaken aus weist sehr schmale und ausgesetzte Stellen auf und ist keine offizielle Aufstiegsroute.

 

Südlich des Morgenbergs erhebt sich die Schwalmere (2777 m ü. M.), durch den Rengglipass (1879 m ü. M.) getrennt.

 

(Wikipedia)

hi. i had just moved house...set my pc up methodically and turned it on...needless to say it went nova and i have been pc-less since then. well it's finally fixed and man have i been craving processing! (mortal kombat and dragon age helped alleviate the pain somewhat but i have missed photography...big time!).

 

dri | three exposures | iso200 | f/8

 

i thought i would come back with a bit of experimentation in terms of blending. this one is a dri of three exposures one stop apart. i've also been messing around with the final jpg before uploading it. i've found that there is a huge loss of quality when reducing it down to 1200 pixels...definitely needs some sharpening, colour boost etc.

 

anyway sorry for neglecting all your wicked photos lately but i'm back and will do my best to catch up :o)

 

u-ziq...patrick rothfuss | the name of the wind (3rd time through)

 

embiggen to fight compression...press L

Just how does an 85 year-old machine that has over 340,000 miles on it...since it was "retired"...survive to become the envy of the entire tourist railroad industry? It's Tender, Loving Care, pure and simple. To a man, the crews at Strasburg all speak fondly of Great Western #90 and they treat her like the grand old lady that she is...with great care and respect. Here, the fading sunlight highlights one of Strasburg's finest as he methodically checks the temperature of each axle and bearing the way a parent would check a child's temperature...with his bare hand. They all do it...at every stop...it is religion. It is because these folks care so much that we still have machines like #90 and will likely have them for generations to come. Thanks for all you do guys!

The winter of ’79–80—a winter colder than a brakeman’s breakfast and about as hopeful—marked the moment the Rock Island finally lost its run to escape the trustee’s noose. Its assets, once ubiquitous, fell under the auctioneer’s gavel, liquidated in a process that resembled nothing so much as institutional autophagy.

 

Here, somewhere just south of the Cherokee Strip where the wind speaks more often than people, two of those disposed assets found their final resting place. Powder blue once symbolized the line’s last attempt at renewal, that final corporate Pygmalion moment when fresh paint might transubstantiate bankruptcy into solvency. Executives promised modernity; the creditors prevailed and delivered dissolution.

 

And, if you walk between them at dusk, you can still hear the clatter of lost industry—the faint, spectral echo of work that has long since ceased.

 

The farmer who acquired these cars—whose name has been lost to history, likely because nobody bothered to write it down—brought them here with the intention of using them for storage. He did. But they also, as an unintentional byproduct, became artifacts of postponement, immobile and marooned as human plans stalled and nature proceeded with its own accounting.

 

In the decades that followed, entropic rust crept over their flanks with the methodical patience of geologic time. Saplings grew through the ladders, rooting themselves in the corroded steel. Vines threaded their way along the seams, performing a kind of slow botanical autopsy on the rigid geometry of commerce. The powder blue faded to a pale ghost of its former optimism, oxidation blooming in burnt sienna and umber.

 

From a distance they appear almost mythic: twin monuments to velocity arrested, to the promise of connection severed and left to weather. They sit, there, in that field, silent and indifferent, as oblivious to the locals who pass them as those locals are to them—holding nothing but the particular emptiness of things built for purpose and abandoned to time, mute witnesses to the distance between intention and outcome.

 

©06Dec25

By way of immediate action, a stand must first be made against thought, against mental processes. "I do not know" - it is said - "anything which, when unbridled, uncontrolled, unwatched, untamed, brings such ruin as thought, and I do not know anything which, when bridled, controlled, watched, tamed, brings such benefits as thought."

 

Thought, which everyone lightly says is "mine," is, in reality, only to a very small degree in our power. In the majority of cases, instead of "to think" it would be correct to say "we are thought" or "thought takes place in me." In the normal way, the characteristic of thought is its instability. "Incorporeal" - it is said - "it walks by itself": it "runs hither and thither like an untamed bull." Hard to check, unstable, it runs where it pleases. In general, it is said that, while this body may persist one year, two years, three years or even up to a hundred years and more in its present form, "what we call thought, what we call mind, what we call consciousness arises in one manner, ceases in another; incessantly, night and day"; "it is like a monkey who goes through the forest, and who progresses by seizing one branch, letting go of it, taking hold of another, and so on."

 

The task is to "arrest" thought: to master it and to strengthen the attention; to be able then to say: "Once this thought wandered at its fancy, at its pleasure, as it liked: I today shall hold it completely bridled, as a mahout holds a rut-elephant with his goad."

 

A few explanations.

 

If one day normal conditions were to return, few civilizations would seem as odd as the present one, in which every form of power and dominion over material things is sought, while mastery over one's own mind, one's own emotions and psychic life in general is entirely overlooked. For this reason, many of our contemporaries - particularly our so-called "men of action" - really resemble those crustaceans that are as hard-shelled outside with scabrous incrustations as they are soft and spineless within. It is true that many achievements of modern civilization have been made possible by methodically applied and rigorously controlled thought. This, however, does not alter the fact that most of the "private" mental life of every average and more-than-average man develops today in that passive manner of thought that, as the Buddhist text we have just quoted strikingly puts it, "walks by itself," while, half-unconscious, we look on. Anyone can convince himself of this by trying to observe what goes on in his mind, for example, when leaving his house: he thinks of why he is going out but, at the door, his thoughts turn to the postman and thence to a certain friend from whom news is awaited, to the news itself, to the foreign country where his friend lives and which, in turn, makes him remember that he must do something about his own passport: but his eye notices a passing woman and starts a fresh train of thought, which again changes when he sees an advertisement, and these thoughts are replaced by the various feelings and associations that chase each other during a ride through the town. His thought has moved exactly like a monkey that jumps from branch to branch, without even keep-ing a fixed direction. Let us try, after a quarter of an hour, to remember what we have thought - or, rather, what has been thought in us - and we shall see how diffi¬cult it is. This means that in all these processes and disordered associations our consciousness has been dazed or "absent." Having seen this, let us undertake to follow, without disturbing them, the various mental associations. After only a minute or two we shall find ourselves distracted by a flood of thoughts that have invaded us and that are quite out of control. Thought does not like being watched, does not like being seen. Now this irrational and parasitical development of thought takes up a large part of our normal psychic life, and produces corresponding areas of reduced activity and of reduced self-presence. The state of passivity is accentuated when our thought is no longer merely "spontaneous" and when the mind is agitated by some emotion, some worry, hope, or fear. The degree of consciousness is certainly greater in these cases - but so, at the same time, is that of our passivity.

These considerations may throw some light on the task that is set when one "ceases to go"; one reacts, one aims at being the master in the world of one's own mind. It now seems quite incomprehensible that nearly all men have long since been accustomed to consider as normal and natural this state of irrationality and passivity, where thought goes where it will - instead of being an instrument that enters into action only when necessary and in the required direction, just as we can speak when we wish to, and with a purpose, and otherwise remain silent. In comprehending this "according to reality," we must each decide whether we will continue to put up with this state of affairs.

 

In its fluid, changeable and inconsistent character, normal thought reflects, moreover, the general law of samsāric consciousness. This is why mental control is consid¬ered as the first urgent measure to be taken by one who opposes the "current." In un¬dertaking this task, however, we must not be under any illusions. The dynamis, the subtle force that determines and carries our trains of thought, works from the subconscious. For this reason, to attempt to dominate the thought completely by means of the will, which is bound to thought itself, would almost be like trying to cut air with a sword or to drown an echo by raising the voice. The doctrine, which declares that thought is located in the "cavern of the heart," refers, among other things, to thought considered "organically" and not to its mental and psychological offshoots. Mastery of thought cannot, therefore, be merely the object of a form of mental gymnastics: rather, one must, simultaneously, proceed to an act of conversion of the will and of the spirit; inte¬rior calm must be created, and one must be pervaded by intimate, sincere earnestness.

 

The "fluttering" of thought mentioned in our text is more than a mere simile: it is related to the primordial anguish, to the dark substratum of samsāric life that comes out and reacts since, as soon as it feels that it is seen, it becomes aware of the danger; the condition of passivity and unconsciousness is essential for the development of samsāric being and for the establishment of its existence. This simile illustrates an experience that, in one form or another, is even encountered on the ascetic path.

 

The discipline of constant control of the thought, with the elimination of its automatic forms, gradually achieves what in the texts is called appamada, a term variously translated as "attention," "earnestness," "vigilance," "diligence," or "reflection." It is, in point of fact, the opposite state to that of "letting oneself think," it is the first form of entry into oneself, of an earnestness and of a fervid, austere concentration. When it is understood in this sense, appamāda constitutes the base of every virtue. It is also said: "This intensive earnestness is the path that leads toward the deathless, in the same way that unreflective thought leads, instead, to death. He who possesses that earnestness does not die, while those who have unstable thought are as if already dead." An ascetic "who delights in appamāda - in this austere concentration - and who guards against mental laxity, will advance like a fire, burning every bond, both great and small." He "cannot err." And when, thanks to this energy, all negligence is gone and he is calm, from his heights of wisdom he will look down on vain and agitated beings, "as one who lives on a mountaintop looks down on those who live in the plains."

 

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excerpt from The Doctrine of Awakening by Julius Evola

 

Insomnia persists

I count sheep

unsure if I am asleep

or still awake

the black sheep

take over

instead of jumping

methodically

over fences

they gather around

and weave a

fairy tale

of sparkly veils

neon sea dragons

and faraway places

to help me fall

to help me sleep

 

Huffington Post post about Billy Gomez.

 

The translation of the text that appears in the blog (which you can read below) is the work of Mark Donnelly . A great thank you to Mark for always looking for the best translation and to Billy Gomez for his great work and collaboration.

 

Don´t forget that you can share this on facebook, tweet, mail, subscribe etc…

 

Shadow Hunter

 

There are methodical photographers who dedicate hours to every photo controlling every little detail of light and composition. On the opposite side there are those who armed with their cameras are hungry for images like a hunter looking for his prey. They don’t know where nor when they’ll find this image. They’re not familiar with the place, the light or “the model”. But at any given time they’ll stumble upon it and shoot without thinking twice, feeling the rush of the hunter becoming the hunted.

 

Billy Gómez belongs to this lineage of camouflaged, instinctive, risk-taking, quick draw and crack shot photographers. He has become a creative and active witness of the streets of Seoul. Its inhabitants are the driving force behind his work with their hectic routines, their depression and loneliness etched on their faces. The metro, train and the streets are his usual scenes. As in this image, the people he photographs are alone, lost in thought and with an expression of defeat almost as if they were prisoners to a life they hadn’t dreamt of. They look through the windows with their imagination trying to escape but all they find are others like them who are just as lonely and lost.

 

Billy is aware of the fact that with his camera he is going to steal sad and intimate moments in public places with no previous permission and this has its risks. However this also turns the moment of capture into something exciting, disturbing and unpredictable. With his sensitive and lyrical voyeurism he turns everything he sees into art.

 

He develops his photographs in a way to increase the loneliness of the lives of the human beings he portrays. By adding a vignette to every one of his subjects and darkening the borders it seems like they are surrounded by shadows. With his camera he immortalizes these sad inhabitants and it can be said that his voyeurism of anonymous men and women is taxidermal.

 

Billy Gómez (Los Angeles, 1971)

 

Born in America he moved to Seoul in 2005 to teach English. His job leaves him with a lot of free time and soon he decides to make the most of it by taking photographs. After a few years of fooling around, experimenting and searching he starts to define his style - a combination of voyeurism and spontaneous portrait. The result is a lucid and sad x-ray of a city, Seoul and its inhabitants.

 

With a telephoto lens, a 50mm and lately an iPhone that allows him to go unnoticed, he hits the streets in search of the right light and perfect moment. Not being able to control light as one would in a studio makes post-production more laborious. The search for the right light is now one of this visual poet’s priorities in the streets of Seoul. A hunter of light and above all shadows.

Sandro Botticelli’s Venus : Italian Renaissance Masterpiece Painting

18 October to 15 December 2013

 

The Italian Consulate of Hong Kong and Macao, the Italian Cultural Institute and the University Museum and Art Gallery (UMAG) are honoured to present to the public a true Italian masterpiece – Venus (ca. 1482) by Florentine Renaissance painter Sandro Botticelli (1445–1510). Patronised by noble families including the Medici, Botticelli produced a number of unique Venus paintings one of which, a treasure from the celebrated Galleria Sabauda in Turin, will be on view in Hong Kong for the first time from October 17th through December 15th, 2013. An iconic image of the high artistic achievement of the Renaissance (14th–16th centuries), Botticelli’s carefully executed tempera painting on wood relates to ancient classical sculpture and the tradition of depicting the goddess Venus as a heroine, symbolising love, beauty, fertility and prosperity in Greco-Roman mythology. A rebirth of Antiquity, the Italian High Renaissance is significant for the sophisticated stylistic and technical advances in science and art, and the methodical study of nature and the human body. Botticelli’s painting, a depiction of the nude, exemplifies these values in which the verisimilitude and beauty of the human condition as an ideal form is achieved by the finest artists in early modern Europe.

 

UMAG plans an unprecedented public outreach programme to welcome this true sensation to our community to enchant and to educate interested members of our community, collectors and scholars, as well as students from local and international schools. In collaboration with two Italian scholars in HKU’s Fine Arts department, students will be able to learn, teach and exchange art-historical and cultural knowledge, while bringing together the wider public for whom lectures, workshops, and seminars will be organised at the museum.

 

This exhibition is made possible through the generous support of Ms Pansy Ho.

  

波提切利之《維納斯》:意大利國寶級文藝復興盛期名畫

二零一三年十月十八日至十二月十五日

 

意大利駐香港及澳門總領事館、香港意大利領事館文化處及香港大學美術博物館攜手呈獻意大利國寶級藝術傑作 -文藝復興時期的佛羅倫斯畫派名家桑德羅‧波提切利(一四四五至一五一零)之力作《維納斯》(約一四八二年)。

 

波提切利受米迪池等貴族所寵遇及賞識,創作一系列以描繪維納斯為主題的獨特作品;當中的《維納斯》為意大利都靈著名的薩包達美術館所珍藏,並將首次來港展出,展期為二零一三年十月十八日至二零一三年十二月十五日。

 

作為文藝復興巔峰時期(十四至十六世紀)的代表作品,波提切利的《維納斯》畫作是一幅精心製成、畫於木材的坦培拉(俗稱蛋彩畫),充分表現了文藝復興時期以古代雕刻為基礎的精神以及宣揚維納斯在希臘羅馬神話中代表愛情、美麗、孕育和繁榮的傳統。

 

意大利文藝復興讓古典重生。以成熟風格、科學與藝術的技術突破及有條不紊的大自然和人體研究聞名。波提切利畫筆下出現的裸體,展現了人類美態的理想藝術形式及早期現代歐洲藝術家的卓越成就。

 

香港大學美術博物館將於展期中為廣大市民舉辦講座、工作坊及研討會,並與兩名香港大學美術系的意大利學者合作開班,讓參觀的學生學習、教導和交流藝術歷史和文化上的知識。

 

是次展覽得到何超瓊女士的慷概支持。

 

Please view in large size^^

This is one of the stairwells inside ESMA. Ordinary. Featureless. But every surface here remembers. Prisoners were marched up and down these steps, blindfolded, beaten, dragged into interrogation rooms. The terror of ESMA was industrial and methodical. No spectacle. No ceremony. Just the cold logic of disappearance. Visiting places like this strips away any lingering illusion that atrocity only happens in dark, distant corners of the world. It happens in bureaucratic buildings, in stairwells like this, with forms signed in triplicate.

After the disaster of Thursday with my very poor photography of the Small Copper i returned yesterday to Merry's Meadows near Greetham in Rutland to rectify some of my errors.

It was very sunny with a breeze to make life interesting in capturing this stunning little butterfly but i quickly found one quickly flitting around either side of the the well trodden path i was on and resting only briefly on various flowers including buttercups, plantains and sorrel.

I think the image of the Small Copper on the sorrel is of a female possibly laying eggs as she dragged herself over the top slowly but methodically down the flower. It is one of their favoured plants for their larva along with other docks!

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