All things narrative
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Inspired by the works of Edward Hopper (July 22, 1882 – May 15, 1967)
Hopper was a minor-key artist, creating subdued drama out of commonplace subjects ‘layered with a poetic meaning’, inviting narrative interpretations, often unintended. He was praised for ‘complete verity’ in the America he portrayed.
Edward painted pictures of America - This is Paris...only in SL :)
More info on Edward Hopper: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Hopper
Photo Taken at Midnight In Paris
This is a photo of the intense colours of sunset photographed through some trees while intentionally moving the camera. I love how the diffuse darker toned shapes suggest a pareidolia narrative - a scene of a heroic military commander such as Alexander the Great rallying his army during battle. The composition of the image is divided in half by a balanced light/dark polarity or dualism.
Narrative. Narrative! NARRATIVE!
I went for a walk in nature recently and came across a man shouting Narrative! Narrative! Narrative!
I enquired as to what was distressing him so.
His dog had run away from him and wouldn't come back.
I enquired why he was shouting "Narrative!". It turned out that was the name of his dog.
I pointed out that he had lost control of his own narrative...
He seemed less than pleased.
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Be the author of your own story. Your inner narrative will dictate your actions. Your inner narrative holds immense power in shaping your perception of reality and the way you navigate through life. It is the voice that whispers in your ear, coloring your thoughts, emotions, and actions.
“You are the author of your own life story. You have the leading role and get to determine how you interact with your supporting cast and other characters. Without realizing it, you may have allowed the events in your life to write your story for you rather than taking deliberate action to write it in your own voice. What will it take to love your life story to create the happy endings you desire?”
― Susan C. Young ―
“ You are the author of your own life...Don't let others define it for you. Real power comes by doing what you are meant to be doing, and doing it well.”
― Oprah Winfrey ―
💖 In advance I want to thank each one of you for your always kindness, support, beautiful awards, favs, and messages. Please know that I see and read them all, even if I do not reply back to them, I appreciate them all so much as well as each on of you for taking the time.
💖 You all mean a lot to me, Flickr would not be the same without you, I can not thank each one of you enough for your constant encouraging and uplifting support that you all give me. I am immensely grateful.
💖 Huge, huge hugs, Light, peace and love to you all. Have a great week ahead everyone.
Best wishes and regards to each one of you. Take good care of your self as well as one another, be kind as well as thoughtful towards others.
Lori 💖
A niece of mine wrote the narrative poem (below) to accompany this photo ... she is a fine talent!
I bring the photo forward from my photostream in her honour. We are contemplating a book of her poetry to accompany some of my photographs - perhaps it will happen, perhaps it will not. I will share your comments with her. Cheers!
______________________________
'In Search of Lost Time'
A few stores along that side of the street
Sit empty and forgotten
Like the occasional refuse carelessly tossed
On cobbled streets.
Old windows reflect the busyness
And hum of street noise.
The old man paused at 37B during his morning shuffle
Peering through the dirty glass,
Hunched slightly forward,
Hands tightly clasped behind him in
Some personal pathos.
He waited until she took form again,
Her small oval face partly obscured
By time and rebellious curls,
Her flashing dark eyes, captivation.
Why had he never dared to draw up his breath,
March into the tinker’s shop and ask
Her to tea!
Had she ever known he was there?
There was such promise!
But the war.
Carried her away like it did his youth
That ebbed away on the front lines.
He returned like so many did,
A shell.
He forgot to demand of life
What it could still proffer,
Trying to forget
The roar, clamour and blood
And the last sighs of fallen friends.
He didn’t look for her again
Until the loneliness
Outweighed the din of past battles
And there,
He found her again
Past the reflections
Of old glass and shadows.
©CHill
2021
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The photo was first posted in 2016 with the following text.
“L’influence anesthésiante de l’habitude ayant cessé, je me mettais à penser, à sentir, choses si tristes." (Marcel Proust: 'In Search of Lost Time')
We have had a major bout of freezing rain during the night, about 5mm of photogenic - but very dangerous - ice on everything ... cross your fingers for us that our power lines don't come down. Trees and branches are crashing all about as I write this ... the price of having such warm unseasonable weather I suppose?
- Loures, Portugal -
In the serene woodlands of Hacienda Montecristo, near the culturally rich Santa Rosa de Copán, I captured a tender moment between an Azure-crowned Hummingbird, Saucerottia cyanocephala, and her fledgling. This photograph embodies the essence of a mother's care, set against a backdrop where the verdure of Honduras unfolds in harmony with the simplicity of these birds' existence. The adult's vibrant azure crown, a stark contrast to the juvenile's developing plumes, speaks volumes of the life stages that I, as a photographer, am privileged to witness.
Utilizing a shallow depth of field, I sought to crystallize the duo's interaction while allowing the lush environment to softly blur into bokeh, highlighting the birds as the focal point. The diffused lighting of the canopy gently illuminated the iridescence of the mother's feathers, while the careful composition preserved the integrity of their natural behavior. This image is not just a visual record; it is a story of survival and continuity in the avian world, a narrative I strive to share through my lens. ©2022 Adam Rainoff
Why? Why do we photograph what we photograph?
Why this shot? Not formally a street photo. Not necessarily compelling. No ethereal essence nor poetic stillness.
A seemingly innocuous everyday scene, but with a hyper-real sense of unease. An unwritten story, then asking the viewer to complete the narrative.
The premise and intent was to actively search out a banal unfolding narrative and stop it with my camera.
Not by accident, but rather an active conceptual process.
We went to Elliston, Newfoundland, Canada for the sole purpose of trying to photograph the Puffins. We were quite worried that they hadn't arrived yet but apparently, they caught the earlier flight and thankfully, got there before us! We were exhilarated!
Elliston is a tiny, quaint hamlet that is tucked away on the tip of the coastline, only ten minutes drive to Bonavista. Elliston is known for the place where the Puffins come to nest and rear their young between May and August. Elliston is an incredible land and seascape scenic feast for the eyes.
The Puffins picked a massive rock formation that is inaccessible to anyone that is of sound mind - I say this because I am extremely afraid of heights so this entire experience challenged my wits. The Puffins make their nests on the cliffside in amongst the knolls, grasses and the rocks.
Across this formation is another formation that is connected to the land and that is where you start your fifteen minute trek to get up close and personal to view these unique birds.
Throughout the day, the Puffins take turns and fly off the cliffside. My legs constantly turned to mush watching them make perilous jumps.
Worth it? YES! There are only a few places in the world that the Puffins nest, and of course it is a known fact that Newfoundlanders are the "friendliest" people on earth so we picked this place and we can now attest to that fact.
Oh, and remember - you ain't no Puffin so watch your step!
A portrait of aging with presence: not simply surviving the years, but inhabiting them. If you focus on lifespan you are looking at the wrong metric, life is about healthspan.
The Søfartsmonumentet (Maritime Monument) at Langelinie, in Kastellet, in the centre of Copenhagen, Denmark.
A maritime memorial commemorating civilian Danish sailors who lost their lives during the First World War. The monument consists of a bronze sculpture of a winged female figure, representing Memory, placed on a rhombus-shaped podium with a series of narrative reliefs on its side.
On a board meeting in the Danish Steamship Owners' Association on 10 November 1921, it was decided to terminate a war accident insurance policy. On a later meeting Johan Hansen proposed to use unused funds for the creation of a memorial to seamen of the Danish merchant fleet who had lost their lives at sea during the war years. The proposal was unanimously approved on a meeting in 1923. A committee consisting of Christian Sass, Johan Hansen, A.N. Petersen and Eilert Maegaard was put in charge of the project.
Einar Utzon-Frank, Ludvig Brandstrup, Henning Hansen and city architect Hans Beck Wright were initially engaged as artistic consultants, They were later supplemented with Rasmus Harboe, Svend Rathsack, Anton Rosen, Edvard Thomsen and Emanuel Monberg in an invited competition. An invited competition was initially held but none of the entries were found suitable and it was therefore followed by a second round. 59 proposals were submitted and Svend Rathsack's and Ivar Bentson's project was selected as the final winner.
The monument was officially inaugurated in 1928. Representatives of the Danish Royal Family, Government ministers, civil servants and representatives from commercial and cultural circles as well as surviving relatives of deceased sailors attended the ceremony. Speeches were held by King Christian X, the Chairman of the Danish Steamship Owners’ Association and the lord mayor of Copenhagen. A cantata specially written for the occation by Hans Hartvig Seedorff and Johan Hye-Knudsen was also sung at the event.
Information Source:
The assignment that I am working on is narrative. Please let me know what you think. I have looked at it for so long now that my brain is totally frazzled and I feel totally incapable of coherent thoughts.
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A created thing is never invented and it is never true: it is always and ever itself.
Federico Fellini
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Ian Potter Gallery staircase
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Press L to view in Lightbox
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NO GIFS AND ANIMATED ICONS, PLEASE!
Leading Narratives.
Мыслители имеет значение, естественные элементы изменения предполагают различение качеств вопреки холодности одновременное применение аргументов,
qualités intermédiaires affirmations rien éléments indifférents survie transformable perceptions essentielles disparition corps,
αμοιβαία ταχύτητα μεταξύ στοιχείων σαφείς αδυναμίες συνημμένες διαφθορές κινήσεις ύπαρξη μελετώντας διαδικασίες υποθέσεις περιόδους,
کھاتوں کی تعریفیں بیان کرنا جو طاقتور وجوہات کو تبدیل کرتے ہوئے دور دراز تناسب کو منتقل کرتی ہیں۔,
urmând ipoteze răspunsuri formale agresori termeni transpunerea explicațiilor regurgitației afirmațiile demonstrației care dovedesc naturi existențiale,
percontando superbos species fortunarum definitiones detectiones rationes constituendas disputationibus dialecticis implicantes metaphoras excerptas nexuum divisiones,
違法な物質を配置する要素連続シリーズ用語がない開始点カテゴリ回転するもの凝縮が隣接する心臓に接触する芸術を説明するアートを説明する.
Steve.D.Hammond.
I think I got the Ansco Color Clipper about ten years ago. I haven't "seriously" shot with it in a few years, but I brought it along with me this past weekend.
I'll probably shoot more with it this season. I'm not really sure of its purpose just yet, but I'll find one. Or I won't, and that's fine too.
This was taken in the early morning inside Yakima Canyon. I also shot a similar scene with the RB67, but it didn't work out so well.
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'Existing Narrative'
Camera: Ansco Color Clipper
Film: Vericolor III; x-04/1996
Process: DIY ECN-2
Washington
April 2024
I photographed this street vendor January 7th 2016. I was amused at the variety of pop culture now 'vintage'.. oddly Davie Bowie died 2 days later.. it is poignant and culturally interesting that he was 'vintage' while still alive.. I found this particularly fascinating given the random, component elements unwittingly arranged in the bins