For the RogueOlympics on www.RogeuBricks.de I built a camera with only 101 parts, which you can find on my stream.

 

I liked this first 101 parts MOC so much, that I decided to build it again - but then without part limit.

 

The camera itself is only build with LEGO parts and, the Nintendo set tiles fitting perfectly for the screen on the backside. Also the objektive is brick build in this one.

Turn of a Friendly Card

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Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.

 

Act 1

I begin my tale in the present…

 

That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….

 

It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges

 

As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.

 

But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:

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I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.

I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.

 

I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.

He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.

 

It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.

The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.

 

I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.

 

I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.

 

As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.

 

Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing

I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..

 

I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.

Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.

 

So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.

But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.

 

I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.

 

I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.

 

The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.

 

And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..

 

With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.

 

When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”

 

So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.

 

Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.

 

Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.

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So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?

 

I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.

 

Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.

 

I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.

On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.

The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!

I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.

 

Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..

 

They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid

And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!

One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.

But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.

This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.

 

They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.

 

With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .

 

After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.

 

It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.

 

And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.

 

After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.

 

So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.

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Act 2

 

So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.

 

As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.

 

The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.

 

I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.

 

I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.

 

That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.

 

It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.

 

I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.

 

I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.

 

It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself

 

I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.

 

The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.

 

But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.

 

I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.

It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.

 

But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason

 

I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.

  

I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!

 

I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.

 

I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.

 

About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously

 

The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.

 

Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.

 

Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.

 

We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.

I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.

 

The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.

  

She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.

 

But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.

 

With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !

 

What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.

 

Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!

 

I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.

 

So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!

 

The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.

 

Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?

 

And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...

 

I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……

 

Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.

 

The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.

 

As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…

 

No honor amongst thieves…

What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,

What will you have it be?........

To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)

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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.

Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .

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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives

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DISCLAIMER

All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

 

The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

 

These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.

We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

 

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Shot with Canon 5D MKIV body, 70-200mm lens with Nikon 10x objective lens attached. It took 223 images stacked for enough DOF to make this single image.

Does the process ‘really’ matter, if the objectives are met?

 

A few weeks ago I was wondering here whether it is possible/clever/smart/... to use old enlarging objectives for photography. My first experiments met the astonishing fact that the German Leitz objective has M39 thread while my ad apter uses L39 - so they are only almost compatible. Now I found from my lockers a few enlarger objectives with L39 thread.

 

Here an old but unused Meopta Anaret 105 mm objective is fitted to an old and very much used Canon 400D. Enlarger objectives haven't a focus ring (& helicoid). So a cheap bellows is used to compensate that problem - and generating new ones.

 

The bellows is for Canon EOS (read as EF) world. So the objective needs some simple(?) adapting. I haven't got a L39 to EF adapter (maybe such one exists). So I first screwed a L39 to M42 adapter ring to the objective. Then I continued by screwing a M42 to EOS adapter. And that's it!

 

I hope to shoot & publish here some sample photos in the near future. At first sight a problem exists: some kind of hood must be done first.

   

"Folhas em Close-up", 03 fotos. Usei a Canon 50D. Objetiva 70-300 mm.

"Leaves in Close-up", 03 photos. I used the Canon 50D. Objective 70-300 mm.

A variety of modern traction for these young enthusiasts at Manchester Oxford Road, 67020 on the Arriva Trains Wales service to Llandudno being their main objective of the lens.

Objective 7: Photographic Styles

 

Type/style of photography: Still Life

The camera mode (P, Tv, Av, M): M

f stop used: f/5.6- Using this f stop, made it so that the candle in the candle holder was clear, but the top of the candle holder isn’t. Which I think makes it look interesting.

shutter speed used: 1/80- This shutter speed made it so that there was no camera shake, and the photo came out clear.

ISO used: 3200- Even though the noise isn’t too bad in this photo, I still should’ve used a smaller ISO, to prevent noise completely.

Focal length: 33.0mm- I used this focal length because I had a bigger set up, and I wanted everything in the photo, with a bit of room around the edge.

 

 

www.rspb.org.uk/reserves/guide/n/newportwetlands/index.as...

  

This nature reserve offers a haven for wildlife on the edge of the city, but is a great place for people too with a new RSPB visitor centre, a café, shop and children's play area.

 

Cetti's warblers and bearded tits can be seen and heard in the reedbeds, and ducks, geese and swans visit the reserve in large numbers during the winter. You'll enjoy spectacular views of the Severn estuary all year round.

 

Newport Wetlands is a partnership between Natural Resources Wales, Newport City Council and the RSPB.

  

Opening times

 

Open every day (closed Christmas Day), 9 am to 5 pm (Coffee Shop open 10 am to 4 pm). On Christmas Eve, Boxing Day, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, the centre will be open from 10 am to 4 pm and the coffee shop will be open 10 am to 3.30 pm. Please note that the carpark also closes at 5:30pm.

  

Entrance charges

 

None

  

If you are new to birdwatching...

 

Autumn/winter is the best time of year for birdwatching at Newport Wetlands when migratory wildfowl and wading birds begin to arrive ready for their winter stay.

  

Information for families

 

Newport Wetlands visitor centre is ideal for children and families. Guided walks and children's activities are available on the reserve, drinks and a bite to eat can be enjoyed in the coffee shop afterwards, followed by a browse in the retail area. Children will find the outdoor children's activity area with its 4 m high simulation of the East Usk Lighthouse very entertaining. We can offer a variety of fun environmental activity and exploration days for a wide range of local interest groups.

  

Information for dog owners

 

Some access for dogs - marked footpaths on perimeter of reserve. For more information, please contact the NRW enquiry line.

  

Star species

 

Our star species are some of the most interesting birds you may see on your visit to the reserve.

  

Bearded tit

 

You will often hear bearded tits before you see them. Listen for their bell-like 'pinging' calls, then watch them whizzing across the tops of the reeds. They perch up on the stems in calm weather and feed on fallen seeds on the mud at the base of the reeds.

  

Dunlin

 

Dunlins can be seen at Newport Wetlands at almost any time. They breed further north, including in the Arctic, but migrating birds pass through in spring and autumn and some also spend winter here. Watch for them probing their beaks into the mud as they feed.

  

Little egret

 

These dainty little white herons can be seen throughout the year at Newport. You can see them fishing, stirring up fish fry from the muddy bottom with their feet.

  

Little grebe

 

Listen for little grebes 'whinnying' in spring as part of their courtship displays. They are small, round birds, and remarkably buoyant despite their fluffy feathers.

  

Shoveler

 

Shovelers are commonest here in winter, but are also a regular breeding bird. Watch them using their beaks like sieves to sift out microscopic aquatic life from the water.

  

Seasonal highlights

  

Each season brings a different experience at our nature reserves. In spring, the air is filled with birdsong as they compete to establish territories and attract a mate. In summer, look out for young birds making their first venture into the outside world. Autumn brings large movements of migrating birds - some heading south to a warmer climate, others seeking refuge in the UK from the cold Arctic winter. In winter, look out for large flocks of birds gathering to feed, or flying at dusk to form large roosts to keep warm.

  

Spring

 

Spring is the start of the breeding season and is an active and exciting time of year at Newport Wetlands, as birds set about finding their mates and building nests. Breeding waders at the reserve include lapwings and oystercatchers. Bearded tits begin to nest in the reedbeds. During late April and early May, swallows and swifts begin arriving from Africa, and can be seen flying overhead. This is a great time of year to listen out for the distinctive call of the cuckoo and many plants, including orchids, will begin to burst into colourful flower.

  

Summer

 

Grass snakes can sometimes be seen soaking up the sun or skimming expertly through the water among the reeds. Around sixteen species of dragonflies, twenty-three species of butterfly and two hundred species of moth are found at Newport Wetlands. After dark is the best time for moth spotting, but visitors are likely to see species like cinnabar moths and scarlet tiger moths during the daytime. The reserve is also home to badgers, moles and wood mice. Otters live here too, but are notoriously shy of humans and can be difficult to spot. Their droppings, or ‘spraint’, are the most commonly spotted clue to their presence.

  

Autumn

 

In autumn, the reeds turn from a vibrant lush green to yellowing brown. Groups of goldfinches can be seen flitting around the reserve and are particularly visible along Perry Lane, using their long beaks to extract seeds from the teasels. Autumn is another extremely active season at Newport Wetlands, as migratory wildfowl and wading birds begin to arrive ready for their winter stay. Curlews, redshanks, dunlins and oystercatchers feed on the estuary at low tide using their long, pointy beaks to sift through the nutritious mud for worms and grubs.

  

Winter

 

The starling roost at the reserve is a not-to-be-missed wildlife experience. From October onwards, large groups of starlings gather at dusk in great black clouds. At its peak, around 50,000 birds swoop and soar overhead, chattering noisily. After a breathtaking display, the birds drop dramatically into the reedbeds where they settle for the night. Another winter treat at Newport Wetlands is a single bittern, which has been seen here most winters since 2001. Bitterns are rare and extremely secretive, moving silently through the reeds looking for fish. Parts of the reserve provide a winter home for nationally important numbers of black-tailed godwits, shovelers and dunlins.

  

Facilities

  

Information centre

 

Car park

 

Toilets

 

Disabled toilets

 

Baby-changing facilities

 

Group bookings accepted

 

Guided walks available

 

Good for walking

 

Pushchair friendly

 

Viewing points

 

Viewing screens are available.

  

Nature trails

 

There are a number of nature trails around the reserve of various lengths with easy accessibility for wheelchairs and pushchairs.

  

Tearoom

 

Coffee shop serving triple-certified organic Fairtrade coffee, fairtrade tea, Fairtrade hot chocolate, and a selection of organic cold drinks, sandwiches, baguettes, locally-produced cakes and cookies.

 

Refreshments available

 

Hot drinks

 

Cold drinks

 

Snacks

 

Confectionery

  

Shop

 

A retail outlet for all your bird food and bird care accessories with a wide selection of binoculars and telescopes. There is also a fantastic selection of gifts and children's items.

  

The shop stocks:

 

Binoculars and telescopes

 

Bird food

 

Bird feeders

 

Gifts

  

Cafe

 

Our cafe in the visitor centre has large, panoramic windows overlooking the reserve and surrounding countryside. There is a large outdoor decking area providing additional seating with the same relaxing views. We provide organic Fairtrade tea and hot chocolate, and locally-produced cakes and ice cream.

 

We serve our own exclusive coffee that is grown, imported and roasted by us. It's Fairtrade, organic and certified bird-friendly by the Smithsonian Institute, so now you can help save nature simply by enjoying a great cup of coffee!

 

We are proud to hold a Level 5 Food Hygiene rating enabling our customers to have full confidence in the food and service that we provide.

  

Opening hours

 

10 am to 4 pm daily (closed Christmas Day)

  

Highlights from our menu

 

Triple-certified coffee including cappuccinos, lattes and Americanos, all freshly-made

We are known for our Bara Brith, Welsh cakes and hot toasted teacakes

From autumn through to spring we sell steaming tasty soups which are gluten-free

We provide a variety of sandwiches and rolls made with bread from a family baker

Pole-and-line-caught skipjack tuna is used to fill delicious sandwiches or rolls

Good variety of sandwiches and cakes. Coffee excellent

  

Access to the cafe

 

The coffee shop is in the visitor centre which has wheelchair-friendly ramps into the centre and out onto the reserve.

  

Children welcome

 

There are highchairs for babies and toddlers. We provide children's lunchboxes containing a sandwich, two-finger Kitkat, apple or orange juice and a choice of wildlife face mask.

  

We use local ingredients

 

We use Welsh meats, cheeses and free-range organic eggs.

  

Dietary requirements

 

We sell vegetarian and vegan food, some wheat-free snacks and soup, and some organic food.

  

Accessibility

 

8 August 2013

 

This is a Summary Access Statement. A full access statement is available to download from this page.

 

Before you visit

 

Clear print site leaflet available from reception

 

Visitor Centre open 9 am to 5 pm daily, except Christmas Day. coffee shop open 10 am to 4 pm

 

Entry to the reserve is free of charge

 

Car park open 8.30 am to 5.30 pm daily

 

Three mobility scooters and two wheelchairs available to hire out free of charge. Telephone for details

 

Registered assistance dogs welcome (please do not be offended if we ask for evidence of registration)

 

A dog walking route map is available from the visitor centre. Tethering rings and drinking bowl at the visitor centre entrance

 

Check events and activities for accessibility,

  

How to get here

 

Newport Railway Station (5 miles/8 km). Taxis usually available

 

Bus stop in the reserve car park, Number 63

  

Car parking

 

Free parking, 180 m/197 yds from the visitor centre

10 blue badge spaces

85 parking spaces

Drop-off at visitor centre arranged by telephone 01633 636363

Tarmac surface, path to visitor centre compacted limestone chippings and dust

  

Visitor centre and shop

 

Entrance by wooden walkway with a maximum gradient of 1:40. Manually operated doors. Non-slip tiled surface. Low section on service counter. Hearing loop system is installed at the service counter and in the education rooms. Good natural and artificial lighting. Staff can give assistance and read out any literature if required. Binoculars are available for hire (£3.50 for the day).

  

Nature trails

 

Four main trails. All level on compacted with one incline using a zig-zag. Floating walkways have been used by wheelchairs, scooters and pushchairs but caution should be taken due to buoyancy.

  

Viewing facilities

 

Natural viewing opportunities throughout the reserve. A wheelchair accessible viewing screens overlooking the reedbeds.

  

Toilets

 

Unisex accessible toilet along with separate ladies and gents available on ground floor of Visitor Centre. Level step free access. Baby changing table and a second baby facility in ladies toilets.

  

Catering

 

Step-free level access. Outside deck viewing area. Tables are well spaced apart. Good natural and overhead lighting. Non slip tiles. Accessible WC in the visitor centre.

  

Shop

 

Shop is located in the visitor centre. Level entry step free with no doors. There is step free, level access throughout. Non-slip tiled surface. Ample room. Well lit with daylight and fluorescent lighting. Promotional video usually playing with subtitles. Staff can provide assistance.

  

Classrooms

 

Two classrooms available as one room if required. Step-free, level access throughout. Non-slip flooring. Artificial even lighting. Portable hearing loop system available. Two raised ponds nearby.

  

Picnic area

 

Four picnic tables with wheelchair access outside visitor centre. Visitors free to bring their own refreshments for picnics.

 

Help us improve accessibility by sending feedback to the Site Manager.

  

For more information

 

Newport Wetlands

 

E-mail: newport-wetlands@rspb.org.uk

 

Telephone:01633 636363

  

How to get here

 

By bicycle (Sustrans cycle route)

 

Sustrans National Cycle Network route 4 has a branch to Newport Wetlands using existing roads. The car park has a covered cycle stand. Please note that cycling on the reserve is restricted to a designated route.

  

By train

 

The nearest railway station is Newport - which is five miles from the reserve. There is a taxi rank at the station and Newport bus station is just a few minutes walk away. For train times to and from Newport visit www.nationalrail.co.uk or telephone 08457 484950.

  

By bus

 

From the Kingsway Bus Station in Newport, the Number 63 bus leaves at 7.30 am, 9 am, 11 am, 1.30 pm, 3 pm, 4.50 pm and 6 pm and stops at the bus stop in the reserve car park. Alternatively, contact Newport Bus 01633 670563.

  

By road

 

Join the A48 at either junction 24 or 28 of the M4. Follow the A48 until you come to the Spytty Retail Park roundabout. Exit onto the A4810 Queensway Meadows. At the first roundabout take the third exit onto Meadows Road and follow the brown tourist signs to the reserve.

  

Our partners

 

The Newport Wetlands project is funded by the European Union's Objective Two programme supported by the Welsh Assembly Government and secured via the Newport European Partnership, Newport City Council's allocation of the Welsh Assembly Government's Local Regeneration Fund, Newport City Council's Landfill Tax Credit Scheme, the Environment Agency Wales and Visit Wales – the Department of Enterprise, Innovation and Networks.

 

Natural Resources Wales, Newport City Council and the RSPB would like to thank the communities of Newport and the volunteers who have supported Newport Wetlands.

  

Newport Wetlands Conference and Meeting Rooms

  

Set in the tranquil surroundings of a peaceful nature reserve, our excellent conference facilities offer a superb location for a great getaway from the office and provide a wonderful setting for a variety of corporate events. You will receive a warm welcome from the staff at the Visitor Centre, providing a professional and efficient service.

 

We can provide facilities for the following

 

Conferences

 

Board Meetings

 

Seminars

 

Training Courses

 

Presentations

  

Away days

 

Rooms can be arranged in boardroom, theatre style or in any other format to suit your event. We also have a range of equipment for hire including a digital projector and smart board facilities.

 

Your booking fee includes free car parking, access to the Reserve as well as the Visitor Centre, Shop and Café. The Reserve comprises of a series of lagoons and reed beds from reclaimed industrial land, which is now home to a wealth of wildlife.

 

A tour of the Reserve can be arranged as an unusual and revitalising break during a meeting or away day.

  

Catering

 

Fairtrade coffee and tea, biscuits or homemade cakes can be served throughout the day, and we can provide a freshly prepared buffet to suit your dietary requirements including vegetarian, vegan and gluten free options. Buffets include a selection of classic sandwiches, a selection of savoury items, fresh fruit and a selection of freshly baked homemade cakes.

 

Alternatively, delegates can stroll across to the café themselves and appreciate inspirational views of the reserve from the veranda.

  

The Lakeside Suite

 

A purpose built meeting room, which caters for 12 people boardroom style or 25 people theatre style.

  

The Education Facilities

 

Set in a tranquil environment, overlooking the waters edge the Education Rooms offers the perfect environment for larger events and conferences. The room can be organised in various styles and caters for up to 80 people theatre style.

 

For more information or to make a provisional booking, please contact Adrianne Jones using the details below.

 

For more information

 

Adrianne Jones

Centre Co-ordinator

E-mail: adrianne.jones@rspb.org.uk

Telephone:01633 636355

Sigo practicando el nuevo procesado.

 

Mejor verla a mayor tamaño.

My objective was to get a nice sunset in the clouds on the horizon. Not tonight!

 

So, I decided to do a little Photoshop on one of the church images and put the accent on the church. Like the detail, but would have liked it to be a bit lighter without loosing detail.

 

The Cathedral of the Holy Family is a cathedral of the Roman Catholic Church in the United States. It is the mother church of the Diocese of Tulsa and is the seat of the bishop.

  

Olympus OMD - EM1 with Olympus 75-300 Zoom with 4X Microscope Objective

 

Lincoln, Nebraska

"Mémoire objective" / "Objective Memory" - Sculpture de Catherine Widgery (1993).

John G. Diefenbaker Building (1958), Ottawa

Objective Markers for Salamanders

Subjectively Objective #2. The old Janesville City Ice Building built in 1858. Janeville, Wisconsin, USA.

 

I'm very excited to show you a brand new conceptual series I've been shooting the past month! A nice change from my norm subject matter of travel, lifestyle, landscapes, models, and nature. Retro / old "gems" in simple environments. Subtle colors, angular uncluttered compositions.

  

I hope you enjoy...

  

#subjectivelyobjective #janesville #wisconsin #rockcounty #mattanderson #retro #fineart

  

Thanks for viewing. You can visit my website by clicking here: www.mattandersonphotography.com

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Please E-mail me with any questions.

  

©2018 Matt Anderson All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without permission of the photographer. Hey, just E-mail me me if you have usage questions. Also, if you want to buy an awesome fine art print of this image.

”Seriously Lisa.. do you like EVER stop think about ANYONE else than yourself?

  

What do you mean?

  

”Its just like..” (You say, squinting to the pictures) when you dress like that TOTALLY slutty, you like clearly send signals that help surpress women like total sexobjects! And like.. just because you are cheap, doesn't necessarily mean that all girls like.. you know, want to have sex. Do you like EVER stop to think about that!?”.

  

Well come to think of it, not really, but...

  

”And also the whole like slim line anorexia model thing, COME ON! Like anyone REALLY look like that. You're one of those, who like.. help force women into having these like totally unrealistic ideals. Lisa, you SERIOUSLY need to dress down and.. like,, gain some weight if ANYONE is EVER going to believe you are a real T-girl and not some.. some.. like.. roadside commercial or something. Get real! ”

  

But I do think of others, actually that is why I made the videoclip. I thought that you would like it!

  

”Again Lisa you're just... just SO inconsiderate, like that video is something ANY female would want to see! You like really made sure of that walking in stilettos in such way you deliberately make others out to be like.. inferior or something, But I suppose you like thrive on making other people feel bad about themself, like you have this superiority thing going. That's just precisely the distinct symptoms of like a psychopath or something, who like get off on taking advantage of the female sex.”

  

But actually an old lady passed as I was shooting the pictures. She did look curiously I must admit, but she didn't seem at all to be either offended or provoked. But of course I couldn't be entirely sure that....

  

”And like,, what if that had been an old man Lisa? Ever think about THAT!?”

  

How.. What do you mean...?

  

”Like if it had been an old man and he like.. saw you, and immediately had a stroke, brain hemorrhage or a heart attack, then it would be like.. YOUR fault Lisa, killing a person because you are this ”natural born ego”. Calling yourself a communist. Ha!”

  

But, I was just taking a walk testing my new red stilettos, because it is better taking them for a test walk before REALLY going out in them, to sort of test them ”Live” so to speak and...

  

”That´s another thing Lisa. RED STILETTOS!?! Like just how often do you walk down the street seeing girls stroll around in RED stilettos!? And you know why Lisa? Because red is like a REALLY adult female colour and having red stilettos is the same thing as to say ”Look at me I am extremely feminine and I like just HAVE to point that out” Now how OMEGA self centered is that now Lisa!?”

  

But, I think they are pretty!

  

”Me me me... think Lisa, there is like MANY more females than you in this world and you should like just know that you are like reflecting a degrading, humiliating, cheap view upon women and like that is TOTALLY disgraceful and you should be ashamed Lisa... really like.. guilty of betraying like.. like.. the entire population of women on earth. Effectively destroying everything that women has worked for like.. the last 100 years. Like you are taliban or something? Is that what the hair is really all about?”

  

I believe you indeed speak on behalf of most women and I must say I am truly sorry you feel that way.

  

”As if Lisa! Cause if you were like REALLY sorry you would stop dressing like a prostitute.”

  

But I like looking like a prostitute!

  

”And what if like.. some guy saw you on the street and.. like.. got turned on, and then he turn a corner seeing an ordinary girl, but like because you fucked with his head he rapes the girl and then she like has to suffer mentally like for life, because you just don´t give shit do you Lisa? Like... I am a ninja so FUCK the world... and like fuck all that women has fought for the last century because.. I want to look sexy. * Wuhuuu * ”

  

But don´t you see it is really a question about personal freedom and.. well individuality, I guess?

  

”I can clearly see that talking sense to you Lisa is like talking to a door. It's like.. you have just set your mind to obstruct everything that just has a scent of value and tradition. Just mention the word consideration and you feel personally attacked going straight into the defensive refusing to communicate. But have it your way Lisa, I will waste no more time. If you absolutely MUST stand out a slut in full public view, you are only prevented doing so by the common laws of solicitation . Feel free, I´m just like.. saying!”

 

Transvestit København Danmark

  

taken in Sharovka / Kharkov, Ukraine

Gorleston, Norfolk, UK

THE DRUNKEN MUSE

The story "Drunken Muse" was audio recorded on a hidden voice recorder during the conversations about two decades ago. The story-teller didn't know or consent to the recording.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tape_recorder

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/8-track_tape

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compact_Cassette

The audio tapes on compact cassettes were never used. The records were partially damaged and lost.

Herewith the unedited transcript version.

 

medium.com/paul-jaisini-paints-invisible-paintings/paul-j...

  

I am so pumped to get back to painting as I return to the second year of the art school after a full year suspension. As always it is like time-travel culturally speaking, like walking right into the middle ages going through the antique building’s portal.

Art studios are the huge L-shaped lofts with super tall ceilings 20 feet no less with the wall to wall windows so that sunlight illuminates the space from south and east side designed for the purpose so that one could paint there from morning till sunset.

In a studio there are classical gypsum sculptures, expensive copies of Venus de Milo, David, Laocoön and the others. In the art studio there stood the noses, eyes, lips, feet, and palms on the wood shelves.

Sketching the gypsum body parts helps you to build the classic academic base on which stands the whole modern and contempo art. This sort of teaching is specific for the art schools that preserve the traditions they had been founded on. There is only few art schools like this and of this caliber left now. Could be that this is the only legendary school that continues to function as if nothing had changed in the world. In the rest of the world with billions of some art classes nobody knows what does the old tradition of art school is for, its totally unfashionable.

Studying classic art (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academic_art) here is the foundation for creativity in any of the art styles.

  

The smell of art is what defines the studio but not from human presence, something like an aroma reminiscent of the eastern market where smoke from hookaahs mix with the oil vapors, exotic fragrance from candles and spices. The Art Studios were never renovated since the times they were built over 150 years ago. The wood floors are saturated with art oils as if the floor is waxed with the organic oils from nuts, linen ( linseed oil, poppy seed oil, and so forth.) Adding to the mix the varnishes used by painters (pine wood varnish, Dammar varnish and others) It makes this ART SMELL to be the most intoxicating and ever-lasting musk.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oil_painting

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oil_painting - Ingredients

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Studio - Art_studio

  

The instance you enter the studio space you feel the belonging to a knighthood and the whole art history. You are the undivided part of those people who left their creation imprints.

Super pumped up after the long break up with the arts after my full year of non-stop party marathons I had returned to the bohemian life style.

Actually my other life style wasn't any different from the bohemian.

The only difference is that there is some meaning in the bohemian life style, something to create, to shape. Not just spend time doing sports and girls but something on a whole 'nother level only with the same sub text and by far more emotionally connected.

The bohemian I think is much more my thing, that fits me as a person. Maybe because my old man is the greatest sculptor.

He is color blind so apparently I took up the torch, I have a very special sense for color.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sculpture

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemianism

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_blindness

  

There could be an inborn human predicament or inborn genius.

I returned into the world to kiss its ground. I like everything about it, the babeville and its fashion circus.

The art students are known to come up with endless varieties of how to be stylish.

Take me for example, I am chilling in a suit jacket. It was professionally hand-tailored out of a denim Pajamas with stripes and starry silk underlining.

This “look” is completed by my python leather jeans. And over that an authentic LONG military Germany Waffen Elite Officer black Leather Coat from the WWII, only it is without a Swastika.

I never part with my large portfolio and a Field Easel.

EASEL

  

About 700 students attend the studies. The art school accepts only the best of best with few exception such as the kids of celebrity artists, writers and musicians and people who had real power in the city.

I wasn't enrolled for money or the A-lister parents, but for my talents. The Art specialty (painting, drawing, sculpture) teachers here are the world-wide recognized contemporary artists.

In a matter of my working ethics these important artists would point at me as the example of how fast I work, how well I sketch in color, how I always choose the most unexpected and unusual angle for my composition and so on...

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Composition_(visual_arts)

name banner gif

  

Optical illusion geometric gif

  

(portraiture, still-life, and landscape)

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Still_life

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portrait

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landscape_painting

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_drawing

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_painting

  

I never work on an académie (live drawing of a model, live painting of a model) the given eighty -- ninety hours. My whole process is about six -- nine hours to fully complete the work so I get out of the studio for some action and fun.

I’m probably the strongest in the class. My art professors know I don’t need to be there to distract the others.

When I’ve got nothing to do I start banging the head against the wall. Still I am criticized SUPER harshly for cutting the classes.

At this point I am not aware of the inner workings of “THE SYSTEM”.

I call suitcase with a secret compartment.

At the grade shows I only see the bad grades on my best artworks.

There is another side of the coin. It revealed in the future when I got to befriend a secretary at the Dean’s office. It was about the time of my graduating year.

The art teachers actually always considered me to be the leading artist among all students. They would grade all my artworks high on my personal record I knew nothing about.

That was how the art school’s system pushed the talented students to go further to open up their potential. Pushing to the limits of impossible.

I am harshly criticized for cutting a lot of classes.

There is another side of the coin. It will be revealed in the future when I got to befriend a secretary at the Dean's office. It was about the time of my graduating year.

The art teachers actually always considered me to be the leading artist among all students. They would grade all my artworks high on my personal record I knew nothing about.

That was how the art school's system pushed the talented students to go further to open up their potential. Pushing to the limits of impossible.

Willing or not but the doubts get in my head. I was thinking (rather frantically) that maybe I’m all just misguided. I will work to beef up my skills unable to accept that I am not really a “genius” artist. The bad grades were corrupting my vision.

Totally clueless that these bad grades in my case were used as "disciplinary measures" for my behavior of anarchy. These grades had nothing to do with my artworks.

And yet my best drawings and paintings are graded the lowest. At the same time the art professors are taking my works home. I always find empty walls where my works were displayed for the semester shows.

Sooner or later the missing artworks got me enraged. My classmates tell me the back story on what REALLY had happened.

All the art professors usually go the painting major's finals. So they just took my artworks right off the wall.

Ever since I heard this back story I flaunt how IDGAF to even pick up my works with the bad grades after the finals end.

Like a bunch of some doomsday looters in sight of an electronic store the art students same as the teachers vultured my artworks. Later some of my paintings and drawings were seen at the school's museum, especially the paintings.

The story of the artworks snatched off my exhibit wall developed further.

In the art school the art teachers are the privileged kind who exhibit regularly. All are the accomplished artists with big names.

Another thing about my artworks (no longer mine and in someone else's possession) is the story that involves someone with the top art rep being the art dynasty. Even so it happed that the leading art professor nicknamed Molly (for her annoying facial mole) used my art stuff to have her son who studied same years as me, just never expelled, to apply to an art academy with the highest qualification requirements. Molly's son portfolio sucked. To get him qualified to apply she gave her son all of my artworks she collected.

The juice was given to me by the reliable sources. The story was concurred by the eye--witnesses the students who were applying to the same academy together with Molly's son. Some of these students knew my work by the style, special color palette and the brushwork.

They all knew that Molly's son was using my artworks. He only had to forge his signature and remove mine.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Study_(art)

  

My drawings, sketches, paintings, watercolors are in "wide" use by others.

I tell that to describe the routine of my life.

It could explain why I was expelled three times for the chronic absence, for sabotaging the lectures -- getting my classmates to leave the studio and go to the movies or to the beach.

Fast forward to that event of the breaking point when I started to work systematically.

  

I was sucked into work as if a drug addiction. I was penetrating deeper to the very core of creativity. Reading books, going to the museums, working in the field, working in the museums to copy masters. I completely forgot all about life around me.

Practically I was devoured and digested with my nails and hair by that devil called the academic art. It sucked out the leftovers of my soul.

I stayed in the studio after the classes to work. There were only few students like this, spiritually close to me. To them it was their life style since the day they had entered the art school unlike me. Whenever I'd get bored with art I'd quit working and just leave without asking permission.

Now as if something had hit me hard and I started to really work. Most art students here typically come from such backgrounds when they did their baby steps and studied in the children's (secondary) art school from an early age and tutored by art teachers at home

I had a tendency to take on a higher complexity unprepared without the experience of any art school training (the eight years on a daily basic with teachers and methodical practice.)

As long as I remember myself I was drawing, during my school years, on the notebooks, with chalk on the asphalt, with stick on the sand. I did it subconsciously, not knowing what I was doing.

IDK, could be due to the several bad bike accidents when my head ended up hitting the brick...

  

Why did my brain moved into the direction of noticing those things that normal people should not be noticing? That the leaves on the trees are not at all green, but violet.

The falling shadows from the street lights are not at all outlined by black, the contours are the absolute blue.

The trees look like people.

There are so much more shades of colors that language could articulate.

Stuff like this filled up my head so that there was no place left for just a thought about girls, more so even the thoughts to manipulate my body functions. For instance using the

bathroom. I almost peed my pants. Truthfully I was on the edge of madness.

I remember how I hallucinated during my work imagining that someone had come into my studio and I spoke to "the guest." My brain was ill, there was no escape from that hell.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Violet_(color)

  

Once I was walking on a street without any awareness. My mind was no longer in command of anything accept the obsession with my painting. As I was pushing the limits of what was humanly possible in a matter of progress from the previous stage when I could draw and paint with intuitive results now I considered as totally armature waste of art materials. My condition would be hard to describe since I could hardly remember what was it like during that madly intense period. I know that I was working non--stop and did make some major break through. It worked but at the same time the progress turned its evil side, I wasn't able to stop even for a brief moment. Something happened to my otherwise incorruptible memory that I could only remember few things from that period. And one of those things was my death walk through the city streets on a day I was supposed to disappear.

When I realized that I was walking automatically, blind and incredibly

avoiding the cars, for the first time I felt the fear of madness that can easily take my life. It wasn't something I would fear if I was in my other life when loosing it would be quite an ordinary thing and not due to my lost mind.

Whatever it was I survived with no chances to stay alive that day. I had more chances to live on when I was shot at execution style, when I was drowning in bad storm, climbing on a building like a cat, and on many others such occasions.

Some guardian angel was looking over me as I came to the final moment of certain death, blind, deaf, disoriented and delusional.

As we finished with draperies, still life, gypsum figures we moved on to the nude. To draw and paint from the live sitter, male or female model.

There comes an old fat hag to be posed before the artists. She will be POSING even during the breaks. She sits professionally without a slight move of her flab folds for us to draw her “forms”. ‘assume it was done for the boys not to get distracted with the female anatomy.

The models with “rounded” forms were chosen so we would study the reflects and double reflects on a “sphere-like” and “cylinder-like” forms.

There would be plenty of the cast shadow (a type of shadow that is created on a form), and a drop shadow ( below the image).

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_human_positions

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figure_study

  

The working objective was to concentrate on the drawing’s construction.

When we’d get a young female model, she’d be so skeletal that we studied the skeleton. This type of models was as unattractive as the fat ones.

The art students without an eye for a drawing and technique produced their works of caricature quality. With the lost proportions the models looked like animals, skinny chickens or fat frogs.

For me it was a serious job, body didn’t exist. I x-rayed the flubs of fat to see the bones to connect them to muscles, to build a form.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caricature

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muscle

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skeleton

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_skeleton

  

The illness I call the overdose had progressed and my end was near.

Homies who knew me used to say that I was cracked.

When I moved from the classicism to modern (I refused to see any modern or contemporary art, never wanted to see it, or ever saw it) I entered the Modern art on my own, as my foot stepped into the forth dimension.

I entered the world of mad pressure. Good I stepped in it one foot yet.

I was sleeping in the studio right on the floor near my work and placed an electric heater near by.

It was impossible to heat up whole place where fifty heavy-duty easels only took a quarter of the studio space.

In the center there was a huge round stage made from a special hard wood to hold any number of models when needed for the multiple human-figure compositions.

The place was full of easels, portable and the large for the field. The chairs, tables, palettes, boxes with paint, cases with paper and lots of other art stuff piled up into mountains.

The parquet floor was always covered in fresh oil paints even though the teachers tried in vein to prove a fact that working neatly was by far more productive.

  

We had a dormitory built same year as the art school which was 150 something years ago.

If you stayed late in the studio that was forbidden, you couldn't get to the dorm.

A guard at the main door was a real watch dog, he faithfully guarded the pathway knowing every student's face.

The dorm was occupied by those who couldn't pay for a room or the apartment in the city.

Ten beds were squeezed in a dorm room.

This part of the antique building was never renovated probably b/c it was planned to be turned into more art studios.

But since there were out of town students who had no place to live they were given a place in this dorm.

The beds were of a good prison-like quality so the survival was possible. Another thing is what was happening in the dorm.

On a typical day nobody there had any money left after the expensive art materials. Not a penny to get high. Alcoholic liquid (40-60%) was soaked into the bread.

From one bite of that bread you could instantly drop dead as if your legs got cut off by a train.

The receptors inside the nose absorb the fumes to hit right into the brain, this way the booze doesn't ever enter the digestive system and blood.

It kills or makes one go bonkers.

Some pissheads in desperation poured vodka into a wine bottle cap to inhale it like coke. After one cap screw it was a total alchoholocaust.

There were many ways of economizing: to use a medical thin rubber tube to suck the drink very slowly, one bottle would

serve four alkies.

It was the usual schizophrenic day for me. I had my dose of coffee and ate on a way to the studio.

Those days I didn't miss a class afraid to get expelled for the last and final time.

I couldn't understand this thing about my artworks. Why did my classmates literally begged on their knees to have the C-graded artworks I was never satisfied with.

It became my trade mark to give away all of my stuff left and right. I didn't know why I let go of my drawings and paintings so easy. Now I regret that. It would be interesting to see the growth.

Once I happened to tell a guy from my class who worked very hard on his drawing (he wasn't a good draftsman): "Oh Wow! you are doing a lot of progress, buddy, congrats!" I looked at his portfolio and pointed at a piece: "This drawing here is really mature and quite interesting, you achieved volume and air in just a linear drawing."

The guy suddenly goes red, stares at me wide-eyed with anger or confusion I couldn't quite understand...

"Am I saying something wrong?" I asked.

"You're fucking dissing me!" He answered.

"Why?" I wondered.

"This is YOUR drawing," Was the answer: "I took it, that is when I asked you and you gave it to me, don't you remember?"

I didn't recognize, didn't see my signature, as it was overlapping the drawing.

The guy was holding a grudge for this but it didn't turn him into one of my enemies.

  

At some point I am thankful to the teachers for their sneaky methods and experience on how to tame the most unruly and bring them into the art's stable. On the other hand these people were like sadistic fascists who used their special gases on me experimenting, would I survive it and live on.

The bohemian hyped up life only started after the classes at about seven in the evening. This part of the artist's life was full of sex, booze, and drugs, more sex booze drugs and orgies. The art youth was progressive, the sex - communal with the conveniently shared girlfriends and boyfriends.

Strangely the good times didn't concern me anymore now.

There was a small group of idiots who followed their criteria of achievement: to draw and paint a vase with flowers so that it comes to life, right out of the canvas to the carrying hands of the one who painted it. The flowers turned alive would be given to the girl/boyfriend.

The madness of the 4th dimension.

The art group was lead by me and another guy soon (one month later) to disappear forever for the reasons unknown.

After the classes me and few others searched for a studio. Found it. Not my studio. Any studio with the door unlocked.

As usual I would set a still life. Take off my nazi coat.

Set my next canvas on the easel to start quick sketching.

Out of nowhere shows up some dude who was a new student, he was much older, about twenty three, somewhere from Texas and just plain untalented.

He wanted to hang around with "the power-group" to learn.

There were few girls with the ambition to reach the level of a manly hand in creation.

We all usually worked in grave silence and even a slight noise would be extremely annoying.

If a brush would fall it seemed the atomic bomb had exploded somewhere near. We would exchange vicious cursing at the jittery creaking sneezing noise maker.

When you are focusing intensely and can't quite catch the brush stroke to complete the shaping of a form so that the image would turn real and come out of the flat surface the nerves are high strung to the limit.

The last months I just never left the studio, didn't even come outside. Slept on my German coat in the corner. It was veiled with the drapery. I'd wake up in the morning. The doorman was already used to give me the keys knowing that I sleep and work there. It came with a warning that if I am discovered I must tell any story and solemnly kept the secret.

The memories from those years distract me from telling what I want. It's about the event that had closed for me the entry into the forth dimension.

That day I was getting upset over some stupid teases: "What had happened to you!"

Whether the bros wanted to elevate my mental state, or they needed to get my works it had really caused me distraction. I was focusing on my work. Suddenly I hear the sounds of music in the studio. It jumped me: “Are you out of your fucking minds? That asshole doorman will come here."

"No he ain’t gonna."

"Why?"

"He is passed out, we had to carry him away." Was the answer.

"What is going down?" I worried.

"Not much, nothing is going down, we just want some fun. The way it is on here is so buzz-killing."

Was it some holiday, I didn’t know. Holidays passed by me, I didn’t smoke or drink and only worked. What they were saying didn’t reach me.

“Shut down the music. You’re gone but I must sleep here."

"Why must you sleep here?" Asked Lorenzo (nick-named after his personal preferences of the Benzos)

"Hmm, I guess there will be no way of working today?" I asked.

"Working, way working, you gonna make me some home works," Assured me the dude nicknamed Kuz. "For that I will make your sculpture complete."

As interesting as it was to play with the real forms in sculpting I disliked dealing with the clay. Those times I believed the painting to be so much more in gradations, possibilities and complexity. Now I changed my mind to consider any art media possess the unlimited possibilities.

I agreed. Suddenly the guys were fixing to leave and I had to ask: "So? Who will finish building up the sculpture if you're leaving?"

"No worries, will build it up, brb just a quick run for some booze before the stores closed up."

"What booze? Get out of here go to another studio. I work, don’t mess me up."

"No biggie, son, you can rest for once."

It was pointless to argue, they'd already been drunk and I was only getting nervous. My work wasn’t going good at all. I have changed the lighting set up many ways in vein.

Suddenly, out of nowhere Muse appears. A young, very-very attractive girl about eighteen. The returned gang introduced her to me:

"J-Sin, meet her... lets say Nicky."

"Eh, hello Nicky, who and what are you?" were my greetings.

She smiled to everyone and answered: "I will be posing for you today."

"We agreed about everything, will pay the price,” –explained Lorenzo barely moving his tongue, "She is gonna be happy!"

His bag full of bottles made loud clanking noise.

When the drunks got them out I counted six.

“Yes, this is going to be a wild night.” I was thinking what to do now. I approached the model, took off her coat and hanged it, removed her blouse and explained that she can go behind the curtain.

"Hey, hey! What curtain son, what’s with you? She is from the med school, our people!"

I heard the Kuz's inebriated voice. "She is THE model!"

"What -- nude?" I wondered.

"And what did you think, she'd sit covered up in here?" They burst into laughter.

Suddenly I feel elated with the anticipation of the new and amazing subject for the work. I was fed up with the poor set up and the struggle to "find" the good lighting for the gypsum head. How wonderful it turned out that I could make some picturesque oil sketches.

When the model took off her bra, her young breasts, her nipples instantly distract my attention from work.

Shit, I couldn’t focus. Since we hadn’t a glimpse at such models it was too interesting. Could be that something about this evening or the environment was different. First time in a long while the music was playing, the glasses jingled and filled up with wine.

As she posed we were all doing the quick sketching. She removed everything except her panties.

The drunken assholes wouldn’t let me focus.

"Let me finally have a chance to work." I yelled getting distracted.

They seemed to try bargaining: "We brought you the model, hey girl turn around!" Kuz pulled up her skirt and slapped her buddy. "Look at these buns, you've got to do another

drawing for the semester show."

"Boys, you are so bad!" She giggled to Kuz. "I will spank you for being soooo bad!" And she was laughing in most contagious sexy trills of her childish capricious voice.

  

I didn’t understand what these die--hard drunks were doing at the art school, without any talent or interest in art. My former palls in another life that was long forgotten. Today the serious artists who always worked together with me had left the moment this bad company swam by.

Now I was looking at their watery eyes winking at the model. They caressed her things as she reclined on the wooden stage to rest. I wanted to figure out why did they distract me even more now?

I was the same age as the model. I didn’t see her body, to me now it was the model for painting.

It was getting late when the cold winds penetrate the place from the drafty wall size windows. I put on my sweater in the starting freezer. The one meter or the three feet and 33/8 inch walls are like the thermos to absorb and hold the cool temperature. I looked at the laughing bunch who labored on my sculpture.

One was drawing a huge flying dick with wings with a charcoal right on a white wall.

I had finished sketching the figure. I came up to the stage to set up the heater. I asked the model if she could sit some more taking breaks whenever she needs to move.

When she looked at me she was constantly smiling.

"Sure she’ll sit! And she'll lay, right, sweet buns?"

I held my breath working imagining how awesome would be to have such a model every day. With a shaky hand I was working fast as a machine expecting any minute now she would say that she is too cold to sit another minute and she leaves, its all over. I will have to kill her and sit her lifeless body on a chair to complete my work.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!"

The heater I placed caused the red reflexes on the body. I was painting and had to get the color right. So I removed the heater. The model immediately complained about the cold. Kuz brought her a glass of wine asking me why did I remove the heater.

From wine her face flushed red. I tried to adjust the color scale, laying brushstrokes over the whole figure.

Meanwhile the music turned up it was getting real loud.

The model took her break.

I walked after her studying her forms.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Its all right, could you turn this way."

"Oh, I see. Same in our med school, the nut cases," She openly declared to the others when I was on a floor looking from a lower viewpoint.

"Who is this?" She asked: "What kind of a mental is he?"

"Its a disease, but it will pass" – was the answer for her. "Sometimes it is terminal. Not his tho, his will pass, he loves the young girls very much…"

Something from the stupid jokes had reached me.

"Hon, now he needs the medical attention. You are the medic? We are forever in debt to yous for allowing us come to the mortuary and for helping with the dead bodies... What we have here is a zombie. You are the goddess who saves the body as your calling."

What I heard was polluting my pure artistic brain with that life I refused. Now I was paying attention not to the mammary glands but to her breasts. Her back muscles are slightly weak. As I looked over the skeleton the muscles slowly disappeared. No matter how hard I tried to focus my x-rays were weakened. Maybe the electricity turned off inside my head.

"Pour me some," I asked.

Six months of my immaculate virginity and celibacy was broken by a wine glass. The red wine like the blood of innocents was running in my throat filling up the brain that shortly was boiling with vigor. So I said:

"Could you please remove your panties?"

"It wasn’t the deal," protested the model with her eyes glowing like honey.

Lorenzo interrupted her:

"For god’s sake, take of your panties, what is it to you, aren't you a medic?"

"I thought someone here was shy, as for me" She lustfully licked her lips. "Well, of course its nothing."

"Who is shy?" Asked someone.

"Him the weirdo!" She giggled in a very cute bubbly little voice.

"Are you shy?"

"It seems it was me who asked her to remove the panties." I explained.

She just jumped right out of her panties not without pleasure it seemed.

I imagined how to position her, what pose should she take.

"Hey!" I asked Kuz to pour me another glass. He was cheering me on yet reminding that I should first finish the drawing.

"Later," I mumbled turning to the model: "Would you please sit on a chair and spread your pretty legs a little, as much as you wish."

"Hey, Alex, so he is normal?" She asked.

I was far away from normality. A actual girl weaved from the reality. But the process was a transformation with splitting dimensions.

She was turning more real when I touched her to show how to position her legs.

I glimpsed at the red pubic hair seeing the pink flesh of her vaginal lips.

I couldn't focus on my work. Could the “female anatomy” destroy the temple of magic I was erecting for the eight months?

I returned to my easel and continued working. She was fidgeting changing poses uncomfortable this something hurting that... But it was only natural, she was sitting naked on a plain hard wooden chair. She was sliding from one side of the chair to another. I was buzzed from wine and couldn’t work, but I tried to complete my work just to annoy these assholes who screwed up my day. First work was washed off with turpentine and I wiped up the canvas dry with a rag.

I was sketching now not with a charcoal but brushing in umber. It resulted in an interesting tonality and I was captured again. The model squirming on her hard chair complained.

"Yo, why don’t you lay her down, what is she suffering for?" Asked Alex, "Lay her the fuck down, why not."

Right! I thought a little and told her to lay on the stage. Underneath her I spread some drapery.

After few wine glasses I took off my sweater, my cheeks were on fire. Hers too. I unbuttoned my shirt, my blood was boiling, the body was washed with the warmth.

The heater was moved away.

"So true that wine warms you up," she said to Alex.

"Jay, so tell me how to lay her down there. Sit, sit, you poor thingy, I'll assist you" And he jumped on the stage. "Do you want her legs spread this way?" he asked opening

up her legs so that her whole anatomy was showing.

"Is this ok for you?" He winked at me: "Is it good?"

"Oh no, can’t show it like this at the mid-semester show." Thinking some I added: " Let it be, lift her leg a little higher, like this. Turn her head down."

"Like this?" He kissed her on the lips.

"Alex, the fuck you're doing, I don’t have any time."

"Work, keep drawing, go on!" he said. "We won’t disturb you."

I was outraged after I just washed everything off my canvas ready to work, but this wasn't going anywhere. I kept asking Alex what did he mean by not disturbing me when he messed everything up. I heard the girls laughing trills. "For real, he is ill!"

"The sick can be cured." Insisted Alex. "Will hill him." He slurred.

Of course, I own them my very life. If it weren't for them –- that’s it, finito.

Kissing her on the lips and winking at me Alex continued bugging me: “Is this right?”

For like ten minutes I was staring in the infinity in the emptiness… Then I yelled: "Why are you sucking her? Get away from her, let her lay there quietly."

Only to hear some nonsensical mumbling.

"But I want you to work on the position, is this position right?"

"Right, just fuck off of her."

Meanwhile Kuz, I noticed, was taking off his pants. He said: “Let him go fuck himself. Motherfucker is gonna fuck us up today, if he doesn’t want it, so fuck it.”

Now I thought I knew what they wanted from me.

I saw Alex’s naked butt as he laid on the stage, banging the girl and his ass wiggled.

I started sketching their nude asses.

My consciousness was still in the process of transforming.

I thought of how interesting were their poses.

Lorenzo came up to me and took the brushes from my hands placing all in my field easel he closed up.

"Listen, J-man, you’re being a fucking buzzkill. Go draw some vases, fuck off to another studio. You don’t want it. For free?"

I didn't understand him what did he mean. He explained:

"What do you see Alex is doing right now?"

"He is fucking his girlfriend." I said.

Lorenzo continued:

"Whose girlfriend? What we have here is a

scientist, from the med school who is helping us in our artistic quests, to understand the core of anatomy not only from the outside but from the inside. I recommend you, in order to comprehend, as you must know, you can only know the truth from the inside, experiencing the inside, to understand the outside. That’s why I seize the brushes. Here is another glass of wine. Drink!"

I looked at him as a doctor listening to his drunken bullshit.

"The most important thing for you is to understand from the inside. See, you can’t understand it from the outside, it’s not how things are done."

"Yes knowing the internal anatomy helps, take a muscle, body doesn’t exist without muscles." I agreed.

"Hell yeah, yeah… ha ha…that’s what I am going about. Look how Alex is working how he is learning."

I looked at the bare ass's motions back and forth, at the girl who was lifting her legs and actively moving her hips. Alex jumped off, wiped up his cock with the drapery, he also wiped out the girl. “Who is next?”

Kuz was kissing her from one side, when Lorenzo said:

"He worked very hard today, he must learn from the inside. You see, because he just can’t break through the inside."

When Kuz was mounting her, Lorenzo spanked him loudly:

"You can wait, the man needs the muse, get it? Understanding the Muse comes only from the inside.." They all bust into laughter.

Lorenzo nearly helped my cock inside the girl cheering on: "Just do it, little one, everything is gonna be great. Honey, turn him back into a soldier that we've lost."

"The man is gone, the man known yesterday is not the man you meet, forever, around the corner, in London or in the street..." chanted Nick appearing from nowhere. He continued slurring his poems.

Hearing the noise I didn’t know what’s going on as I kissed her breasts.

"Feel the forms." I heard the racket near by as I was buzzing off the wine and licking the girl's body. On the other side Lorenzo had joined in groping her breasts. To be more at ease I moved her body closer to the stage’s edge. I was on top.

I didn't hear any sounds of music, the entry door was covered with the draperies as the orgy just steamed up for the whole night.

I woke up on the stage from loud knocking.

The art students asked me what happened to the busted still life set.

I exhaled my dragon breath to hear no more questions. Took my coat and left the building. Walking the street I met Alex.

"Your face is not yet blushed, your eyes are a bit foggy, can’t say anything after the sleepless night. Like Cures Like."

He grinned getting money out of his pocket. "Let us get some treatment."

We walked to the known spot for aching heads gathering.

 

SERBIA. Belgrade. 2014.

Paint acrylic on paper

The objective of this observation is to understand the nature of these narrow ridges that could be examples of inverted terrain. However, there is a graben nearby, so these could possible be dikes. (A graben is a depression that forms along parallel faults.)

 

Image is less than 5 km (3 mi) across and is 253 km (158 mi) above the surface. For full images including scale bars, visit the source link.

 

www.uahirise.org/ESP_023283_1430

NASA/JPL/UArizona

TAG GAME: My Childhood Clone

 

Rules: Post a picture of your childhood clone/competitor and tell us about their personal and objective significance.

 

Ok, so a long while ago I was telling you all about my childhood clone. I am afraid my description was rather inaccurate. After years and YEARS of thorough searching for this doll (roughly 5-6 years!), I happened to come across her randomly while looking for something else. She came in a lot of clones and I actually got two of them NRFP. One in a blue swimsuit and one in gold. The one I had as a child had the gold swimsuit just like this.

 

She seems to be a Betty Teen/ Totsy Flair/ Tanya type clone. She is marked MADE IИ CHIИA (Yes, the N's are actually back to front). Shoes are marked "Philippines" and are identical to Superstar Barbie mules. Her baggie was marked "Girl Club" and nothing else.

 

I had completely forgotten her unique smell until I opened up this girls baggie. As a child I thought she was black but obviously I was wrong. I remember my sister constantly having to put her hair in a ponytail as I would literally cry about her bald patches. When I pulled this girl out of my bag at a family party my sister exclaimed "Oh my G-d!", laughed, and said she couldn't believe I had gotten another one. My mum also said she looked very familiar which is surprising for my mum as she never remembers anything to do with my childhood dolls.

 

I got my original one when I was about 2 years old around 1997. She was my first ever doll. She was bought at the local $2 Shop (which no longer exists). This time round she cost me $3.94. I loved this doll so much when I was younger because of her tan skin, contrasting blonde hair, her gold swimsuit, and most of all her mules! She even remained a favourite of mine after I received my first real Barbie doll.

 

Times were very different back when I got this doll: Only 16% of Australian households had access to the internet (compared to 83% in 2013); Mobile phones were only used to call people; and boredom was conquered with a domino's deep pan, and the VHS.

 

Please feel free to participate even if I did not have the chance to tag you! I can't wait to see everyone's posts!

”Seriously Lisa.. do you like EVER stop think about ANYONE else than yourself?

  

What do you mean?

  

”Its just like..” (You say, squinting to the pictures) when you dress like that TOTALLY slutty, you like clearly send signals that help surpress women like total sexobjects! And like.. just because you are cheap, doesn't necessarily mean that all girls like.. you know, want to have sex. Do you like EVER stop to think about that!?”.

  

Well come to think of it, not really, but...

  

”And also the whole like slim line anorexia model thing, COME ON! Like anyone REALLY look like that. You're one of those, who like.. help force women into having these like totally unrealistic ideals. Lisa, you SERIOUSLY need to dress down and.. like,, gain some weight if ANYONE is EVER going to believe you are a real T-girl and not some.. some.. like.. roadside commercial or something. Get real! ”

  

But I do think of others, actually that is why I made the videoclip. I thought that you would like it!

  

”Again Lisa you're just... just SO inconsiderate, like that video is something ANY female would want to see! You like really made sure of that walking in stilettos in such way you deliberately make others out to be like.. inferior or something, But I suppose you like thrive on making other people feel bad about themself, like you have this superiority thing going. That's just precisely the distinct symptoms of like a psychopath or something, who like get off on taking advantage of the female sex.”

  

But actually an old lady passed as I was shooting the pictures. She did look curiously I must admit, but she didn't seem at all to be either offended or provoked. But of course I couldn't be entirely sure that....

  

”And like,, what if that had been an old man Lisa? Ever think about THAT!?”

  

How.. What do you mean...?

  

”Like if it had been an old man and he like.. saw you, and immediately had a stroke, brain hemorrhage or a heart attack, then it would be like.. YOUR fault Lisa, killing a person because you are this ”natural born ego”. Calling yourself a communist. Ha!”

  

But, I was just taking a walk testing my new red stilettos, because it is better taking them for a test walk before REALLY going out in them, to sort of test them ”Live” so to speak and...

  

”That´s another thing Lisa. RED STILETTOS!?! Like just how often do you walk down the street seeing girls stroll around in RED stilettos!? And you know why Lisa? Because red is like a REALLY adult female colour and having red stilettos is the same thing as to say ”Look at me I am extremely feminine and I like just HAVE to point that out” Now how OMEGA self centered is that now Lisa!?”

  

But, I think they are pretty!

  

”Me me me... think Lisa, there is like MANY more females than you in this world and you should like just know that you are like reflecting a degrading, humiliating, cheap view upon women and like that is TOTALLY disgraceful and you should be ashamed Lisa... really like.. guilty of betraying like.. like.. the entire population of women on earth. Effectively destroying everything that women has worked for like.. the last 100 years. Like you are taliban or something? Is that what the hair is really all about?”

  

I believe you indeed speak on behalf of most women and I must say I am truly sorry you feel that way.

  

”As if Lisa! Cause if you were like REALLY sorry you would stop dressing like a prostitute.”

  

But I like looking like a prostitute!

  

”And what if like.. some guy saw you on the street and.. like.. got turned on, and then he turn a corner seeing an ordinary girl, but like because you fucked with his head he rapes the girl and then she like has to suffer mentally like for life, because you just don´t give shit do you Lisa? Like... I am a ninja so FUCK the world... and like fuck all that women has fought for the last century because.. I want to look sexy. * Wuhuuu * ”

  

But don´t you see it is really a question about personal freedom and.. well individuality, I guess?

  

”I can clearly see that talking sense to you Lisa is like talking to a door. It's like.. you have just set your mind to obstruct everything that just has a scent of value and tradition. Just mention the word consideration and you feel personally attacked going straight into the defensive refusing to communicate. But have it your way Lisa, I will waste no more time. If you absolutely MUST stand out a slut in full public view, you are only prevented doing so by the common laws of solicitation . Feel free, I´m just like.. saying!”

 

Transvestit København Danmark

  

Canon EOS 40D, bellows, nobrand microscope objective 10/0.25, focus stacking.

Now I have to reassemble the lens again.

A soft orange ground of cypress needles in Henderson Swamp.

A view of Stirling Castle from the Borestone, the site of the Scot’s camp and Robert the Bruce’s command post at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. The relief of a siege of the castle was the English army’s objective in that campaign. The castle commanded a strategic position in Central Scotland being, until the early 20th century, the first major crossing over the River Forth and safe route over Flander’s Moss, a large waterlogged bog stretching westwards, The castle is somewhat different to that of the 14th Century especially with regard to the Great Hall (the large, white building) which wasn’t built until the 16th century.

Often my collage art is dominated by abstraction and geometry. This art form is the most understandable and attractive for me. My forms are created with a glitch effect from real photographs that I took. This is one of the techniques to change reality the way we are used to understanding it and to give the viewer the opportunity to see the world with my eyes, to touch my inner, non-objective world. Shapes and color. Rhythms and lines. The patterns of destiny in the intricate plexus over time are reflected in the heart by the desire to create and blend, to find new places for photography, in the flow, catching the wave in the process.

dug out a box of old microscope bits and stuck one onto the front of the camera - not the best but it still surprised me as I didn't really expect anything very much...

Caesars Palace is a luxury hotel and casino in Paradise, Nevada, United States. The hotel is situated on the west side of the Las Vegas Strip between Bellagio and The Mirage. It is one of Las Vegas's largest and best known landmarks.

 

Caesars Palace was founded in 1966 by Jay Sarno and Stanley Mallin, who sought to create an opulent facility that gave guests a sense of life during the Roman Empire. It contains many statues, columns and iconography typical of Hollywood Roman period productions including a 20-foot (6.1 m) statue of Augustus Caesar near the entrance. Caesars Palace is now owned by Vici Properties and operated by Caesars Entertainment. As of July 2016, the hotel has 3,960 rooms and suites in six towers and a convention facility of over 300,000 square feet (28,000 m2).

 

The hotel has a large range of restaurants. Among them are several which serve authentic Chinese cuisine to cater to wealthy East Asian gamblers. From the outset, Caesars Palace has been oriented towards attracting high rollers. The modern casino facilities include table games such as blackjack, craps, roulette, baccarat, Spanish 21, mini-baccarat, Pai Gow and Pai Gow poker. The casino also features a 4,500-square-foot (420 m2) 24-hour poker room; and many slot machines and video poker machines.

 

The hotel has operated as a host venue for live music and sports entertainment. In addition to holding boxing matches since the late 1970s, Caesars also hosted the Caesars Palace Grand Prix from 1981 to 1982. Notable entertainers who have performed at Caesars Palace include Frank Sinatra, Reba McEntire and Brooks & Dunn, Sammy Davis Jr., Ella Fitzgerald, Teresa Teng, Count Basie, Dean Martin, Rod Stewart, Stevie Nicks, The Moody Blues, Celine Dion, Ike & Tina Turner, Shania Twain, Bette Midler, Cher, Elton John, Liberace, Diana Ross, Liza Minnelli, Julio Iglesias, Ann-Margret, Tony Bennett, Harry Belafonte, Lena Horne, Judy Garland, Gloria Estefan, Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Matt Goss and Deana Martin.

 

The main performance venue is The Colosseum. The theatre seats 4,296 people and contains a 22,450-square-foot (2,086 m2) stage. The stage was a special construction for Celine Dion's show, A New Day..., in 2003. After departing in 2007, Dion returned to the Colosseum with her new show entitled "Celine" on March 15, 2011, which was under contract through June 9, 2018 for 65 shows per year.

 

History

 

Early history

 

In 1962, cabana motel owners Jay Sarno and Stanley Mallin applied for a $10.6 million loan from the Teamsters Central States Pension Fund. He began plans to build a hotel on land owned by Kirk Kerkorian. Sarno would later act as designer of the hotel he planned to construct. His vision was to emulate life under the Roman Empire. The objective of the palace was to ensure an atmosphere in which everybody staying at the hotel would feel like a Caesar; this is why the name "Caesars Palace" lacks an apostrophe, making "Caesars" a plural instead of possessive noun. Caesars Palace was instrumental in beginning a new era of lavish casinos from the late 1960s onward. Architectural writer, Alan Hess, stated: "Caesars Palace needed only a sumptuous array of Classical statuary and a host of marble-white columns to establish its theme. The visitor's imagination, in league with well-placed publicity, filled in the opulence". Jefferson Graham wrote that the result was "the gaudiest, weirdest, most elaborate, and most talked about resort Vegas had ever seen. [Its] emblem was a chesty female dipping grapes into the waiting mouth of a recumbent Roman, fitted out in toga, laurel wreath, and phallic dagger".

 

The inauguration ceremony was held on August 5, 1966. Sarno and his partner, Nate Jacobsen, spent one million dollars on the event. The cost included "the largest order of Ukrainian caviar ever placed by a private organization", two tons of filet mignon, 300 pounds (140 kg) of Maryland crabmeat and 50,000 glasses of champagne. Cocktail waitresses in Greco-Roman wigs would greet guests and say "Welcome to Caesars Palace, I am your slave". Among the performers at the opening were Andy Williams and Phil Richards. According to author Ovid Demaris, Caesars Palace was "a mob-controlled casino from the day it opened its doors". By the time it opened, the significant publicity of the new hotel had generated $42 million in advanced bookings.

 

On December 31, 1967, stunt performer Evel Knievel arrived at the hotel to watch a boxing match and convinced Sarno that he could jump over the distance of 140 feet (43 m) over the fountains. ABC came in to film the jump, in which Knievel hit the top of the safety ramp after the jump and flew over his handlebars into the parking lot of neighbouring Dunes. Fracturing his pelvis, several bones and suffering a concussion, he lay in a hospital unconscious for 29 days in a coma before recovering. On April 14, 1989, Knievel's son Robbie successfully completed the jump.

 

The first casino at the hotel was named Circus Circus. It was intended to be the world's liveliest and most expensive casino, attracting elite gamblers from around the world. In 1969, a Federal Organized Crime Task Force accused the casino's financial manager, Jerome Zarowitz, of having ties with organized-crime figures in New York and New England. Although Zarowitz was never tried, the task force pressured Sarno and his other investors to sell the casino, which led to it being acquired by Lum's restaurant chain owners Stuart and Clifford S. Perlman for $60 million. The company soon shed its restaurant operations and changed its name to Caesars World. On July 15 of that year, executives lay ground on an expansion area of the hotel, and they buried a time capsule in the area.

 

Frank Sinatra began performing at Caesars Palace in 1967, after a fallout with Howard Hughes and Carl Cohen at The Sands. He signed a three-year contract. In the early morning hours of September 6, 1970, Sinatra was playing a high stakes baccarat at the casino, where he was performing at the time. Normal limits for the game are US$2,000 per hand; Sinatra had been playing for US$8,000 and wanted the stakes to be raised to US$16,000. When Sinatra began shouting after his request was denied, hotel executive Sanford Waterman came to talk with him. Witnesses to the incident said the two men both made threats, with Waterman producing a gun and pointing it at Sinatra. Sinatra walked out of the casino and returned to his Palm Springs home without fulfilling the rest of his three-week engagement there. Waterman was booked on a charge of assault with a deadly weapon, but was released without bail. The local district attorney's office declined to file charges against Waterman for pulling the gun, stating that Sinatra had refused to make a statement regarding the incident. Despite swearing to never perform at Caesars again, Sinatra returned after his retirement in January 1974, and became a frequent performer at Caesars Palace throughout the decade. He was performing at Caesars when his mother Dolly died in a plane crash in January 1977, and in 1979 he was awarded the Grammy Trustees Award in a party at the hotel, while celebrating 40 years in show business and his 64th birthday. When Sinatra was given back his gaming license by the Nevada Gaming Commission in 1981, he became an entertainment-public relations consultant at the casino for $20,000 a week.

 

In 1971, some 1,500 African American rights activists stormed the hotel in a protest. The National Welfare Rights Organization was involved with a "coalition of welfare mothers, Legal Services lawyers, radical priests and nuns, civil rights leaders, movie stars and housewives". Five years later in the spring of 1976, hundreds of African American workers went on strike at the hotel in the first major strike in Las Vegas history. The entrances to the hotel and casino were blocked, and the hotel lost several million dollars from the strike, including one cancellation worth $500,000. In 1973, the Del Webb corporation was contracted to build a $8 million 16-story building adjacent to the Palace.

 

In 1981, a fire broke out at the hotel, hospitalizing 16 people. The Perlmans sold their shares in Caesars World that year after trying to get a gaming license for a casino in Atlantic City, New Jersey. The New Jersey Casino Control Commission accused the brothers of doing business with people who had organized-crime connections.

 

Later history

 

In 1986, the annual Teamsters convention was held at Caesars with a $650,000 party. The lavish feast included caviar, crab claws, roast beef and a range of 15 different desserts. In 1991, Sheila King won a $250,000 jackpot in the casino at Caesars Palace on a $500 machine and won $50,000 twice soon afterward. Over three years she won $200 million on the machines but kept pumping the money back into the machines. Despite her luck, in 1994 her winnings fell to $500,000, and she spent much of her time over the next four years in the law courts claiming that the casino operators had tampered with her machines and deceived her to keep her winning.

 

In the 1990s, the hotel's management sought to create more elaborate features to compete with the other modern Las Vegas developments. The Forum Shops at Caesars opened in 1992; it was one of the first venues in the city where shopping, particularly at high-end fashion house stores, was an attraction in itself. A new redevelopment opened on October 22, 2004.

 

In June 2005, Harrah's Entertainment acquired Caesars Entertainment, Inc. and became the owner of Caesars Palace. Harrah's changed its own name to Caesars Entertainment in 2010, to capitalize on the prestige of the Caesars brand.

 

In 2010, Caesars Palace was fined $250,000 by the Nevada Gaming Commission for permitting a high-limit baccarat player to dance on the card table while the game was underway. In September 2015, Caesars Palace agreed to pay the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network an $8 million civil money penalty for violating the Bank Secrecy Act.

 

In October 2017, ownership of Caesars Palace was transferred to Vici Properties as part of a corporate spin-off; Vici leased the property back to Caesars Entertainment at an initial annual rent of $165 million.

 

Architecture

 

Jeff Campbell of Lonely Planet refers to the hotel as "quintessentially Las Vegas", a "Greco-Roman fantasyland featuring marble reproductions of classical statuary". The art deco style fused with clear influences from Hollywood epic productions dominate. Construction of the 14-story Caesars Palace hotel on the 34-acre (14 ha) site began in 1962, and it opened in 1966. It lay next to Dunes Hotel and opposite the Desert Inn. The original hotel featured lanes of cypresses and marble columns as part of a 900 feet (270 m) frontage, with the hotel set back 475 feet (145 m) . The car park could accommodate up to 1300 cars.

 

Water is heavily used for at least 18 fountains throughout—the casino resort uses over 240 million gallons a year. A 20 feet (6.1 m) high statue of Julius Caesar hailing a taxi lies in the driveway leading to the entrance, and there are replicas of Rape of the Sabine Women and statues of Venus and David which greet guests as they arrive. Near the entrance is a four-faced, eight-handed Brahma shrine which weighs four tons. It was made in Bangkok, Thailand, with a casting ceremony on November 25, 1983, according to the inscription on it. A multimillion-dollar renovation of the main entrance began in July 2021, and was finished seven months later. It includes a domed ceiling and a 15-foot statue of Augustus.

 

Exterior

 

A $75 million renovation of the hotel's original Roman Tower, built in 1966 and extended in 1974, was completed in January 2016. The 14-story Tower, last renovated in 2001, will have 20 rooms added for a total of 587 rooms and suites, and will be renamed the Julius Tower. Entertainment Close-Up wrote that the Julius Tower is the "latest piece of a $1 billion investment to cement Caesars Palace as the premier resort at the center of the Las Vegas Strip". Nobu Tower (formerly Centurion Tower) is a 14-story tower that was completed in 1970 at a cost of $4.2 million. In 2011 it was announced that the tower would be renovated and be renamed to Nobu, and to operate as the first Nobu Hotel with a restaurant. A remodeling of the Nobu Hotel took place during 2021.

 

Rooms in the Forum Tower opened in 1979. The Palace Tower opened in 1998 and mirrors the Greco-Roman theme of the hotel with fluted columns and Corinthian columns and pediments on its facade and fountains and statues scattered around its interior space.

 

Plans for the Augustus Tower began in 2003 and were consolidated in 2004 with the architects Bergman Walls Associates. The expansion at a cost of $289 million US included a 26-story, 345-foot-tall tower, as well as an addition of new convention and meeting facilities at the resort. The Augustus opened in 2005 with 949 rooms, which were designed for more upscale luxury and service than the other parts of the resort. The Octavius Tower opened in January 2012. The 668-room tower was added as part of a $860-million expansion. The tower shares a lobby with the Augustus Tower. The pools at Caesars Palace are modeled after the Roman baths.

 

Entertainment

 

Many international performers have performed at the hotel, including Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Rod Stewart, Celine Dion, Cher, Bette Midler, Liberace, Liza Minnelli, Elton John, George Burns, Pat Cooper, Diana Ross, Teresa Teng, Paul Anka, Julio Iglesias, Judy Garland, David Copperfield, Stevie Nicks, Dolly Parton, Tony Bennett, Gloria Estefan, Phyllis Diller, Luis Miguel, Ike & Tina Turner, Janet Jackson, Shania Twain, Jerry Seinfeld, Harry Belafonte, Louie Anderson, Ricky Martin, Mariah Carey, Deana Martin, B.B. King, The Moody Blues, Pilita Corrales and Matt Goss. In mid-1996, a new venue known as "Caesars Magical Empire" was created on the property, showcasing magicians such as Michael Ammar, Jon Armstrong, Lee Asher, Whit Haydn, Jeff "Magnus" McBride, and Alain Nu. The "Empire" was closed on November 30, 2002, after which the structure was razed to make room for a large concert hall created for singer Celine Dion. The Colosseum at Caesars Palace is a 4,296-seat entertainment venue with a 22,450 square feet (2,086 m2) stage, which was originally built at a cost of $95-million for Celine Dion's show, A New Day..., in 2003. A success, the Colosseum show earned almost $175,000 on average per night and grossed $500 million in four years. The venue has since hosted performances by numerous other artists. Gloria Estefan performed a special seven-day concert in October 2003 for the launch of her album Unwrapped, titled Live & Unwrapped. In May 2007, Bette Midler was announced as Dion's formal replacement, performing 100 shows a year, with Elton John continuing to perform his popular Red Piano show 50 nights a year while Midler was on hiatus. After taking a three-year hiatus, Cher, following her Farewell Tour, returned to Caesars Palace with a three-year contract, performing 200 shows beginning May 6, 2008.

 

On May 26, 2009, U.S President Barack Obama performed in the Colosseum in the one-night show A Good Fight alongside Sheryl Crow, Bette Midler and Rita Rudner to fundraise for Nevada's senator Harry Reid re-election campaign. Several streets were closed and the Augustus tower was blocked as security precautions by the Secret Service during the visit. In March 2011, Celine Dion returned to The Colosseum with her new show entitled "Celine", which is under contract for 70 shows per year, through 2017. In 2015, Reba McEntire and Brooks & Dunn began a concert residency at the Colosseum titled Together in Vegas. Absinthe is a live show that premiered on April 1, 2011, on the forecourt of the hotel. The show is hosted by The Gazillionaire, played by actor and former Cirque du Soleil clown Voki Kalfayan and his assistant, Penny Pibbets, portrayed by actress Anais Thomassian. The show is performed outside in a Spiegeltent on a 9 feet (2.7 m) diameter stage. The tent accommodates 600 persons who are seated on folding chairs circled around the stage.

 

The Pussycat Dolls Lounge, an adjunct of the Pure Nightclub, opened at Caesars Palace in 2005. The lounge was patterned after a vintage strip club. The club's center was a stage where dancers called the Pussycat Girls clad in fishnet hose and corsets, began a new dance show every half hour. Celebrities like Paris Hilton and Christina Aguilera occasionally danced as "guest pussycats". In 2007, Caesars Palace opened a Pussycat Dolls Casino directly across from the Pussycat Dolls Lounge. It had an oval pit at the casino's center, where two go-go dancers in cages performed in response to the music. At the end of February 2010, the Pussycat Dolls left the Pure nightclub for a new lounge at the Chateau nightclub, which is part of Paris Las Vegas.

 

The Omnia (Latin for "[the sum of] all things") nightclub, opened in March 2015, replacing the Pure nightclub which operated there for over a decade. The $107 million expansion and redesign incorporates both the 34,000 square feet (3,200 m2) Pure facility and the adjacent World of Poker tournament room to create a 75,000 square feet (7,000 m2) space that can accommodate 3,500 people. Designed by the Rockwell Group, the club is outfitted with theatrical lighting, sound, and climate-control systems, along with rigging and catwalks for aerial performers. It is operated by the Hakkasan Group.

 

The replica of Cleopatra's Barge houses a bar and lounge that opened at Caesars Palace in 1970. Rat Pack members Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin often visited the Barge, with Sinatra occasionally singing there after his own shows.

 

Sports

 

The New Yorker writes that Caesars Palace was "dubbed the Home of Champions after hosting decades of events like boxing matches, auto races, and volleyball tournaments". The Caesars Palace Grand Prix car race (a Formula One World Championship event) was held at the car park of Caesars Palace in 1981 and 1982. The new race proved to be a financial disaster, and was not popular among the drivers, primarily because of the desert heat and its counter-clockwise direction, which put a tremendous strain on the drivers' necks. When Nelson Piquet clinched his first World Championship by finishing fifth in 1981, it took him fifteen minutes to recover from heat exhaustion. The 1982 race was won by Michele Alboreto in a Tyrrell, but the race was not renewed for the following season due to poor attendance. The following two years a CART (IndyCar) event was run, with Mario Andretti and Tom Sneva winning, before the open-wheel event was permanently dropped. In 2013 it hosted a round of the Stadium Super Trucks.

 

Many boxing matches have been held in Caesars Outdoor Arena and at its since demolished Sports Pavilion (an indoor sports arena) since the late 1970s. The hotel has hosted fights between George Foreman and Ron Lyle in January 1976, Roberto Durán and Esteban de Jesús in January 1978, Larry Holmes and Muhammad Ali in October 1980, Holmes and Gerry Cooney in June 1982 as well as Wilfredo Gómez versus Juan Antonio Lopez at the same date; Gómez's bout with Salvador Sánchez on August 21, 1981, Marvin Hagler vs. Roberto Durán and a world championship fight between Shane Mosley and Shannan Taylor. In April 1987, the 15,356-seat arena at Caesars Palace hosted "The Super Fight" boxing match between Sugar Ray Leonard and Marvin Hagler. Two bouts between Evander Holyfield and Riddick Bowe were contested here, including Evander Holyfield vs. Riddick Bowe in November 1992, and a revenge match a year later in which Holyfield took the title, and he fought with Michael Moorer at Caesars Palace, including Evander Holyfield vs. Michael Moorer in April 1994 for the WBA, IBF and Lineal Heavyweight Championships. In 2004 boxing returned to the Palace, when Wladimir Klitschko and former Olympian Jeff Lacy headlined a card televised on Showtime at the Palace's new outdoor amphitheatre.

 

Caesars Palace has played host to a number of professional wrestling events throughout the 1990s, the most notable of which is WWE's WrestleMania IX in April 1993 which capitalized on the Roman theme of the venue. Billed as the "Worlds Largest Toga Party" it remains to this day the only WrestleMania with a particular theme. World Championship Wrestling also held a series of events at Caesars Palace, including Clash of the Champions XXX in January 1995 as well as Clash of the Champions XXXII and an episode of WCW Monday Nitro, each in January 1996.

 

On September 27, 1991, a National Hockey League preseason game between the Los Angeles Kings and New York Rangers was held on an outdoor rink built in the Caesars Palace parking lot. Behind a goal from Wayne Gretzky, the Kings came back from a 2–0 deficit to win 5–2. The game served as a prelude to "Frozen Fury", an annual series of preseason games in Las Vegas played primarily against the Colorado Avalanche at the MGM Grand Garden Arena, and eventually the establishment of an expansion team in Las Vegas, the Vegas Golden Knights, for the 2017–18 NHL season.

 

In popular culture

 

Caesars Palace has been a location in numerous films. It has appeared in films such as Hells Angels on Wheels (1967), Where It's At (1969),[196] The Only Game in Town (1970), The Electric Horseman (1979), Rocky III (1982), Oh, God! You Devil (1984), You Ruined My Life (1987), Rain Man (1988), Hearts Are Wild (1992), Fools Rush In (1997), Ocean's Eleven (2001), Intolerable Cruelty (2003), Dreamgirls (2006), Iron Man (2008), The Hangover (2009), 2012 (2009), The Hangover Part III (2013) and Step Up: All In (2014).

 

In television it has appeared in series such as The Partridge Family, the "Viva Ned Flanders" episode of The Simpsons, The Sopranos, Friends, The Strip (1999), and Keeping Up With the Kardashians. It also appeared in the season 12 premiere of America's Next Top Model. The short-lived 1990s game show Caesars Challenge taped in the casino's theatre and pulled contestants from the audience; losing players were given tickets to Caesars shows and dinner as a consolation prize, while an audience game played at the end offered audience members the chance to get casino chips and chocolate coins.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Das Caesars Palace ist ein Hotel in Paradise im Großraum Las Vegas im US-Bundesstaat Nevada. Es ist im Stil eines antiken römischen Palastes errichtet; der Name leitet sich von Gaius Iulius Caesar her, dem Herrscher des antiken Rom, und soll dessen Pracht widerspiegeln.

 

Das Hotel am Las Vegas Boulevard besitzt 3.960 Gästezimmer und Suiten in sechs Zimmertürmen. Säulen, Statuen und Wasser-Fontänen prägen das Erscheinungsbild der Anlage. Das im Hotel integrierte Spielkasino belegt eine Fläche von etwa 15.000 Quadratmetern. Die Forum Shops, ein großes Einkaufszentrum mit exklusiven Geschäften sowie ein weitläufiger Pool- und Gartenbereich gehören ebenso zu dem Komplex.

 

Geschichte

 

1962 erhielt Jay Sarno einen Kredit über 10,6 Mio. US$ aus dem Central States Pension Fund der Teamsters und errichtete von 1962 bis 1965 ein Hotel mit angeschlossenem Kasino. Es wurde am 5. August 1966 eröffnet. Ein Jahr nach der Eröffnung des Hotels erlangte das Hotel durch den Motorradstuntman Evel Knievel großes Aufsehen, als dieser sich schwer verletzte, nachdem er im Beisein zahlreicher Zuschauer über die Brunnenanlage entlang der Vorfahrt des Caesars Palace gesprungen war, jedoch bei der Landung stürzte.

 

1962 begann der Bau des Roman Towers, dem ersten Hotelturm der Anlage mit 680 Zimmern in 14 Geschossen. Das halbkreisförmige Gebäude wurde zentriert hinter dem Haupteingang und der von Springbrunnen gesäumten Vorfahrt angelegt. 1970 wurde das Hotel durch den rechteckigen, erneut 14-stöckigen, Centurion Tower mit 222 Zimmern erweitert. Der abgerundete Roman Tower wurde später um eine entgegengesetzt-gekrümmte Kurve verlängert. Der Forum Tower mit 22 Geschossen kam 1979 hinzu. Am 17. Oktober 1981 und am 25. September 1982 fand auf dem Parkplatzgelände der Große Preis von Las Vegas statt. Sieger der Formel-1-Rennen waren Alan Jones (1981) sowie Michele Alboreto (1982). Da die Rennstrecke auf den Parkplätzen des Caesars Palace sehr uneben war, fand der Grand Prix nur zweimal im Großraum Las Vegas statt.

 

Das Caesars Palace war in den 1980er Jahren Austragungsort vieler berühmter Box-Kämpfe, bevor es in den 1990er Jahren von einem reinen Casino-Hotel zu einem familienfreundlichen Unterhaltungskomplex umgebaut wurde. Diese Änderung haben alle großen Hotels im Großraum Las Vegas vollzogen. Auch heute finden allerdings noch Boxkämpfe statt, vor allem in der Außenanlage „Thomas and Mack Arena“. 1987 wurden Szenen des 1988 erschienenen oscarprämierten Kinofilms Rain Man mit Tom Cruise und Dustin Hoffman in den Hauptrollen im Caesars Palace gedreht.

 

1997 wurde der Palace Tower errichtet. Erstmals wurde dessen Fassade im römisch inspirierten Stil gestaltet. Die bis dahin errichteten Hoteltürme kamen ohne ebensolchen aus. Im selben Jahr wurden auch die 1992 eröffneten Forum Shops, wie auch die Casino- und Konferenzflächen erweitert und die ebenso römisch gestaltete Pool- und Gartenanlage errichtet. Im Jahr 2000 wurden nun an allen früher errichteten Bauteilen antike Stilelemente nachgerüstet um sie den neu gebauten Hotelteilen anzugleichen.

 

2003 wurde das Colosseum eröffnet, ein modernes Theatergebäude mit über 4000 Sitzplätzen, das äußerlich dem antiken Kolosseum in Rom nachempfunden ist. Viele Künstler haben im Laufe der Jahre im Caesars Palace gastiert, beispielsweise Frank Sinatra, Liberace und David Copperfield. Seit März 2003 stehen abwechselnd unter anderen Cher, Céline Dion, Elton John und Shania Twain auf der Bühne des Colosseum. Für die Pussycat Dolls wurde darüber hinaus die „Pussycat Dolls Lounge“ eröffnet, in der sie auch auftraten.

 

Im Jahr 2004 wurden die Forum Shops mit einer dem Strip zugewandten dreistöckigen Ausbaustufe auf die heutige Größe ausgebaut. In diesem Gebäudeteil befinden sich auch die bekannten spiralförmigen Rolltreppen. Im Jahr 2005 wurden der Augustus Tower (35 Geschosse, 949 Zimmer) und die neue Hotellobby ihrer Bestimmung übergeben. Im selben Jahr hat der französische 3-Sterne-Koch Guy Savoy ein Restaurant im Caesars Palace eröffnet.

 

2008 diente das Casino als Filmset für den Kinohit Hangover. In diesem fragt Alan (Zach Galifianakis) die Rezeptionistin, ob Caesar wirklich im Caesars Palace gelebt habe. 2013 wurde das Hotel erneut als Filmset in Hangover 3 genutzt.

 

Der bisher letzte Neubau des Hotels ist der Octavius Tower und wurde 2011 eröffnet. Das Caesars ist damit eines der wenigen Hotels im Großraum Las Vegas, das seit seiner Eröffnung keine Gebäudeteile abgerissen bzw. (wie dort üblich) gesprengt hat, sondern stattdessen immer wieder erweitert und umgebaut wurde.

 

Seit 2013 befindet sich im ehemaligen Centurion Tower des Caesars das eigenständig betriebene Boutique-Hotel Nobu Hotel.

 

Besitzverhältnisse

 

Nach mehreren Besitzerwechseln gehört das Caesars Palace seit 2005 zur Harrah’s Entertainment, Inc. Die Harrah’s Gruppe hat Caesars Entertainment, Inc. (bis 2003 Park Place Entertainment Corporation), einem Konzern mit 55.000 Mitarbeitern, der knapp 30 Hotel-Kasinos weltweit unterhält, übernommen. Seit 2010 tritt nun das gesamte Unternehmen wieder als Caesars Entertainment auf.

 

In Las Vegas gehören unter anderem die Hotels Bally’s, Flamingo und Paris zur Gruppe. Es gibt weitere Caesars Hotels in den Vereinigten Staaten, beispielsweise in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

 

(Wikipedia)

”Seriously Lisa.. do you like EVER stop think about ANYONE else than yourself?

  

What do you mean?

  

”Its just like..” (You say, squinting to the pictures) when you dress like that TOTALLY slutty, you like clearly send signals that help surpress women like total sexobjects! And like.. just because you are cheap, doesn't necessarily mean that all girls like.. you know, want to have sex. Do you like EVER stop to think about that!?”.

  

Well come to think of it, not really, but...

  

”And also the whole like slim line anorexia model thing, COME ON! Like anyone REALLY look like that. You're one of those, who like.. help force women into having these like totally unrealistic ideals. Lisa, you SERIOUSLY need to dress down and.. like,, gain some weight if ANYONE is EVER going to believe you are a real T-girl and not some.. some.. like.. roadside commercial or something. Get real! ”

  

But I do think of others, actually that is why I made the videoclip. I thought that you would like it!

  

”Again Lisa you're just... just SO inconsiderate, like that video is something ANY female would want to see! You like really made sure of that walking in stilettos in such way you deliberately make others out to be like.. inferior or something, But I suppose you like thrive on making other people feel bad about themself, like you have this superiority thing going. That's just precisely the distinct symptoms of like a psychopath or something, who like get off on taking advantage of the female sex.”

  

But actually an old lady passed as I was shooting the pictures. She did look curiously I must admit, but she didn't seem at all to be either offended or provoked. But of course I couldn't be entirely sure that....

  

”And like,, what if that had been an old man Lisa? Ever think about THAT!?”

  

How.. What do you mean...?

  

”Like if it had been an old man and he like.. saw you, and immediately had a stroke, brain hemorrhage or a heart attack, then it would be like.. YOUR fault Lisa, killing a person because you are this ”natural born ego”. Calling yourself a communist. Ha!”

  

But, I was just taking a walk testing my new red stilettos, because it is better taking them for a test walk before REALLY going out in them, to sort of test them ”Live” so to speak and...

  

”That´s another thing Lisa. RED STILETTOS!?! Like just how often do you walk down the street seeing girls stroll around in RED stilettos!? And you know why Lisa? Because red is like a REALLY adult female colour and having red stilettos is the same thing as to say ”Look at me I am extremely feminine and I like just HAVE to point that out” Now how OMEGA self centered is that now Lisa!?”

  

But, I think they are pretty!

  

”Me me me... think Lisa, there is like MANY more females than you in this world and you should like just know that you are like reflecting a degrading, humiliating, cheap view upon women and like that is TOTALLY disgraceful and you should be ashamed Lisa... really like.. guilty of betraying like.. like.. the entire population of women on earth. Effectively destroying everything that women has worked for like.. the last 100 years. Like you are taliban or something? Is that what the hair is really all about?”

  

I believe you indeed speak on behalf of most women and I must say I am truly sorry you feel that way.

  

”As if Lisa! Cause if you were like REALLY sorry you would stop dressing like a prostitute.”

  

But I like looking like a prostitute!

  

”And what if like.. some guy saw you on the street and.. like.. got turned on, and then he turn a corner seeing an ordinary girl, but like because you fucked with his head he rapes the girl and then she like has to suffer mentally like for life, because you just don´t give shit do you Lisa? Like... I am a ninja so FUCK the world... and like fuck all that women has fought for the last century because.. I want to look sexy. * Wuhuuu * ”

  

But don´t you see it is really a question about personal freedom and.. well individuality, I guess?

  

”I can clearly see that talking sense to you Lisa is like talking to a door. It's like.. you have just set your mind to obstruct everything that just has a scent of value and tradition. Just mention the word consideration and you feel personally attacked going straight into the defensive refusing to communicate. But have it your way Lisa, I will waste no more time. If you absolutely MUST stand out a slut in full public view, you are only prevented doing so by the common laws of solicitation . Feel free, I´m just like.. saying!”

 

Transvestit København Danmark

  

”Seriously Lisa.. do you like EVER stop think about ANYONE else than yourself?

  

What do you mean?

  

”Its just like..” (You say, squinting to the pictures) when you dress like that TOTALLY slutty, you like clearly send signals that help surpress women like total sexobjects! And like.. just because you are cheap, doesn't necessarily mean that all girls like.. you know, want to have sex. Do you like EVER stop to think about that!?”.

  

Well come to think of it, not really, but...

  

”And also the whole like slim line anorexia model thing, COME ON! Like anyone REALLY look like that. You're one of those, who like.. help force women into having these like totally unrealistic ideals. Lisa, you SERIOUSLY need to dress down and.. like,, gain some weight if ANYONE is EVER going to believe you are a real T-girl and not some.. some.. like.. roadside commercial or something. Get real! ”

  

But I do think of others, actually that is why I made the videoclip. I thought that you would like it!

  

”Again Lisa you're just... just SO inconsiderate, like that video is something ANY female would want to see! You like really made sure of that walking in stilettos in such way you deliberately make others out to be like.. inferior or something, But I suppose you like thrive on making other people feel bad about themself, like you have this superiority thing going. That's just precisely the distinct symptoms of like a psychopath or something, who like get off on taking advantage of the female sex.”

  

But actually an old lady passed as I was shooting the pictures. She did look curiously I must admit, but she didn't seem at all to be either offended or provoked. But of course I couldn't be entirely sure that....

  

”And like,, what if that had been an old man Lisa? Ever think about THAT!?”

  

How.. What do you mean...?

  

”Like if it had been an old man and he like.. saw you, and immediately had a stroke, brain hemorrhage or a heart attack, then it would be like.. YOUR fault Lisa, killing a person because you are this ”natural born ego”. Calling yourself a communist. Ha!”

  

But, I was just taking a walk testing my new red stilettos, because it is better taking them for a test walk before REALLY going out in them, to sort of test them ”Live” so to speak and...

  

”That´s another thing Lisa. RED STILETTOS!?! Like just how often do you walk down the street seeing girls stroll around in RED stilettos!? And you know why Lisa? Because red is like a REALLY adult female colour and having red stilettos is the same thing as to say ”Look at me I am extremely feminine and I like just HAVE to point that out” Now how OMEGA self centered is that now Lisa!?”

  

But, I think they are pretty!

  

”Me me me... think Lisa, there is like MANY more females than you in this world and you should like just know that you are like reflecting a degrading, humiliating, cheap view upon women and like that is TOTALLY disgraceful and you should be ashamed Lisa... really like.. guilty of betraying like.. like.. the entire population of women on earth. Effectively destroying everything that women has worked for like.. the last 100 years. Like you are taliban or something? Is that what the hair is really all about?”

  

I believe you indeed speak on behalf of most women and I must say I am truly sorry you feel that way.

  

”As if Lisa! Cause if you were like REALLY sorry you would stop dressing like a prostitute.”

  

But I like looking like a prostitute!

  

”And what if like.. some guy saw you on the street and.. like.. got turned on, and then he turn a corner seeing an ordinary girl, but like because you fucked with his head he rapes the girl and then she like has to suffer mentally like for life, because you just don´t give shit do you Lisa? Like... I am a ninja so FUCK the world... and like fuck all that women has fought for the last century because.. I want to look sexy. * Wuhuuu * ”

  

But don´t you see it is really a question about personal freedom and.. well individuality, I guess?

  

”I can clearly see that talking sense to you Lisa is like talking to a door. It's like.. you have just set your mind to obstruct everything that just has a scent of value and tradition. Just mention the word consideration and you feel personally attacked going straight into the defensive refusing to communicate. But have it your way Lisa, I will waste no more time. If you absolutely MUST stand out a slut in full public view, you are only prevented doing so by the common laws of solicitation . Feel free, I´m just like.. saying!”

 

Transvestit København Danmark

  

Sculpture of a man inside a rocket ship-like cone behind the John Diefenbaker building, previously the old Ottawa City Hall, on Sussex Drive, in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.

 

Artist: Catherine Widgery, 1993

 

"Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise ruler born of England." .............. The mythical destiny of King Arthur remains unfulfilled.

 

Tumblr

watercolor

Objective lens:

Auto Revuenon 55 mm F/1.7 282874

Ascorbic acid crystal group photographed with a x10 objective.