The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.

 

As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.

 

The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.

 

The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.

 

The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.

 

These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.

 

The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.

 

In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.

 

The transient beauty of the coast is intricately intertwined with the captivating patterns that emerge in the sand, crafted by the relentless forces of wind and wave. These natural sculptors shape the shoreline, leaving behind ephemeral masterpieces.

 

As the tides ebb and flow, they orchestrate a delicate dance with the sand. With each advancing wave, the water gently caresses the shore, carrying particles of sand along its journey. As the wave recedes, it relinquishes its cargo, depositing the grains in a meticulous arrangement. This cyclical process, repeated countless times, creates intricate patterns that stretch along the coastline.

 

The patterns left behind by the retreating tide mimic the ebb and flow of life itself. Swirling ripples, reminiscent of a miniature desert landscape, emerge as the water recedes, their graceful curves and undulating lines transforming the beach into a living work of art. The patterns are at once orderly and chaotic, with intricate geometrical formations intermingling with whimsical curves and asymmetrical shapes.

 

The wind, a silent artist in its own right, adds its touch to the sculpting process. As it sweeps across the coast, it whispers secrets to the sand, coaxing it to dance in its invisible embrace. The wind's gentle touch lifts fine particles from the beach, carrying them aloft in an intricate ballet. It sculpts the sand into delicate ripples, resembling the soft undulations of fabric.

 

The interplay between the wind and the tide results in an ever-changing landscape. The patterns shift and evolve, shaped by the combined forces of these elemental sculptors. Ripples become miniature mountains, rising and falling in a transient topography that mirrors the larger contours of the surrounding coast. Each gust of wind and every advancing or receding wave leaves its mark, etching new patterns and erasing old ones, in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.

 

These ephemeral patterns serve as a reminder of the impermanence of existence and the transient nature of beauty, as each passing moment alters the landscape, erasing what once was and creating something new. The sands become a canvas for the symphony of time, a tangible reflection of the ever-changing nature of our lives.

 

The beauty of these fleeting patterns lies not only in their visual allure but also in the emotions they evoke. They inspire a sense of wonder and awe, inviting us to pause and appreciate the intricate designs that nature creates with such effortless grace. The patterns speak of the interconnectedness of all things, the harmonious interplay between the elements, and the constant flux that defines our existence.

 

In these patterns of nature, we find a profound lesson: that life, like the shifting sands, is ever-changing, and that true beauty lies not in permanence but in the appreciation of the fleeting moments that grace our journey.

Sorry about my sporadic appearances on Flickr! Each day brings new crises and I cannot see much chance of moving properly into my new home before Christmas. All my worldly goods are still in storage and the army of workmen I have to orchestrate each day make an unbelievable mess! They say you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs - how true this is!

One day it will all work out......

MuCEM + Fort Saint-Jean, Marseille, France - 2013 -Architects: Rudy Ricciotti and C+T architecture

Views, sea, sun, a mineral quality, which all must be orchestrated by a program that will become federal and cognitive. First of all a perfect square of 72 m per side, it is a classic plan, Latin, under the control of Pythagoras. Within this square, another of 52 m per side, comprising the exhibition and conference halls identified as the heart of the museum.

Around, above and below are the service areas. But between these areas and the heart, openings entirely bypass the central square and form interconnected spaces. More interested by the views of the fort, the sea or the port, the culturally overwhelmed visitor will choose this route. Along two interlacing ramps, he will then plunge into the imaginary of the tower of Babel or of a ziggurat in order to climb up to the rooftop and on to Fort Saint- Jean. This peripheral loop will be a free breathe, enveloped by the smells of the sea from the proximity to the moats, a pause to dispel any lingering doubts about the use of the history of our civilizations. The MuCEM will be a vertical Casbah.

The tectonic choice of an exceptional concrete coming from the latest research by French industry, reducing the dimensions to little more than skin and bones, will affirm a mineral script under the high ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean. This sole material in the colour of dust, matt, crushed by the light, distant from the brilliance and technological consumerism, will commend the dense and the delicate. The MuCEM sees itself evanescent in a landscape of stone and Orientalist through its fanning shadows.

 

His music a cross between '70s-style light rock and orchestrated pop, Steven Curtis Chapman is one of the most prominent performers of contemporary Christian music.

 

All rights reserved. © 2015. Ruel Calitis

Nathan Summers' birth was carefully orchestrated by the geneticist Mister Sinister, who had created his mother Madelyne Pryor as a clone of the mutant telepath Jean Grey. Soon after, Pryor was corrupted by demonic influences into using baby Nate as a sacrifice to open a portal between Earth and the demon-infested dimension Limbo, but was opposed by her husband and Nate's father Cyclops, his teammates in X-Factor, and his former team the X-Men. Sinister planned to use Nate as a weapon against his former master, Apocalypse, but Apocalypse learned of this and had Nate captured and infected with a deadly techno-organic virus. After Apocalypse was defeated by X-Factor, a member of the Clan Askani - a sisterhood dedicated to opposing Apocalypse in the alternate future of Earth-4935- offered to save Nate's life by taking him to her own era. Desperate, Cyclops agreed, and Nate was taken 2,000 years into the future of Earth-4935, where the Mother Askani, actually his time-displaced half-sister Rachel, had him cloned in case the virus could not be cured.

 

More on Marvel.com: marvel.com/universe/Cable#ixzz59ecvxvHS

His music a cross between '70s-style light rock and orchestrated pop, Steven Curtis Chapman is one of the most prominent performers of contemporary Christian music.

 

All rights reserved. © 2015. Ruel Calitis

A display in Las Vegas of Burning Man sculpture . A very animated octopus with multiple moving arms with fire shooting out of each. The man orchestrating the fire show can be seen in the lower photo for comparison. In the background is R-Evolution, a Marco Cochrane sculpture which has also been at Burning Man. She stands 45 feet tall. Her sister sculpture Bliss Dance is on permanent display in Las Vegas outside of T Mobile arena.

Members from the Fleet Reconnaissance & Operations Group (FROG) conducted fast rope training at their dedicated facility.

 

The Fleet Reconnaissance and Operations Group (FROG) is the Royal Victorian Navy’s Special Operations Capable Unit. It includes the Royal Victorian Navy’s Maritime Action Teams and the Royal Victorian Marines’ Commando Raider Company. In addition to reconnaissance, the unit specialize in direct action with a maritime component. Examples are the seizures and occupation of gas/oil platforms (GOPLAT) and the Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure (VBSS) of ships during Maritime Interdiction Operations (MIO), as well as orchestrating close air support, a vital skill exercised in DA missions. Commando Raiders forward observe from static positions and spider holes for artillery and naval gunfire support, or ordnance and payload delivery.

 

Note: The story, all names, characters, and incidents are fictitious.

Location: Edo Wonderland, Nikko-shi, Tochigi Prefecture

 

Another show I watched, "The Geisha". Such a comic relief. Very funny. I mean hilarious. The guy is an Albanian who spoke quite a good Nihongo and was among our group. He was drawn from the crowd and in a couple of minutes he came out fully clothed as a rich man being lured by a pimp. The show has not only showcased its entertainment value but also relived how a high-class prostitute, the geisha had become a coveted part of the society in that period. She truly moved with finesse, charm and elegance with an almost orchestrated perfection. She danced soulfully with grace and with reinforced charm and mysticsm. Wooh, quite a show my friends. A blend of class and humor... lol

 

Note: Got some emails-reaction informing me that the girl is not a Geisha but an Oiran. Well, I'd like to point out that it was billed as "THE GEISHA SHOW" not anything else. Otherwise, Edo Wonderland Management has to deal with this. It must be changed to "The Oiran Show" so us not to mislead guests specially the foreigners. Our tour guide who was officially commissioned by Nikko Tourism Office to accompany us during the rounds, said the same thing. "The Geisha Show". Oiran or Geisha, I have no problem with that... haha

“What an utter disgrace it would be to find something truly magic and spend any time at all pretending and trying to convince yourself it is all just an unbelievably orchestrated and beautifully choreographed illusion.” ― Tyler Knott Gregson

Members from the Fleet Reconnaissance & Operations Group (FROG) conducted Close Quarter Battle (CQB) training at their dedicated facility.

 

The Fleet Reconnaissance and Operations Group (FROG) is the Royal Victorian Navy’s Special Operations Capable Unit. It includes the Royal Victorian Navy’s Maritime Action Teams and the Royal Victorian Marines’ Commando Raider Company. In addition to reconnaissance, the unit specialize in direct action with a maritime component. Examples are the seizures and occupation of gas/oil platforms (GOPLAT) and the Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure (VBSS) of ships during Maritime Interdiction Operations (MIO), as well as orchestrating close air support, a vital skill exercised in DA missions. Commando Raiders forward observe from static positions and spider holes for artillery and naval gunfire support, or ordnance and payload delivery.

 

Note: The story, all names, characters, and incidents are fictitious.

You are a valuable instrument in the orchestration of your own world, and the overall harmony of the universe. Always be in command of your music. Only you can control and shape its tone. If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.

― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

The Uyghurs are a very welcoming Muslim Turkic ethnic group living in Eastern and Central Asia. About 7,2 millions of them live in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region at the western extremity of China. Though the Uyghur identity remains fragmented, Uyghur activists like Rebiya Kadeer mainly try to garner international support for the "rights and interests of the Uyghurs", including the right to demonstrate, although the Chinese government has accused her of orchestrating the deadly July 2009 Urumqi riots. Six Uyghur men were sentenced to death after the riots. Uighurs are classified as a National Minority rather than an indigenous group and thus have no special rights to the land under the law. As a result of Han immigration and government policies, Uighur freedoms of religion and of movement are curtailed. Tensions between Uyghurs and Han have resulted in several instances of violence and ethnic clashes.

    

© Eric Lafforgue

www.ericlafforgue.com

Kodachrome collection slide.

 

Airline : Avianca Colombia

 

Aircraft : Boeing 727-21

 

Registration : HK-1803

 

MSN/LN : 19035 / 272

 

Location : BOG / SKBO - Bogota El Dorado Int'l Airport

 

Photographer : Bob Garrard

 

Date : December 1977

 

Notes : Destroyed by a bomb detonated on board AV flight 203, on November 27th, 1989. It was orchestrated by the infamous Pablo Escobar, in attempt to assassinate presidential candidate Cesar Gaviria Trujillo. All 107 people on board were killed, along with 3 people on the ground.

 

Box 398

There are so few dark skies left in Spain, but we were fortunate to spend a week at one of them. Nestled in the Pyrenees mountains, Casa de San Martin is a 500-year-old church overlooking a spacious valley that has been converted into a luxurious bed & breakfast. During the day the song of birds is accompanied by a melody of cowbells orchestrated by the ever-present wandering herd. At night the world quiets, and one can sit and gaze at the enormity of the vast galaxy. We were blessed to be here during the new moon to capture images each night of the Milky Way. I shot this image on our final night as a gift to the owner of the B&B. I look forward to returning with interested photographers on a landscape and nightscape tour next year to see it hanging.

 

This image is from twenty, twenty-second exposures stacked using Starry Landscape Stacker. One exposure was light painted to illuminate the foreground.

The art of self-portraiture held a special fascination for MacLeod. Among her finest examples of the genre, this work is the most psychologically harrowing. A sense of tension is palpable as the artist orchestrates an extraordinary interplay of colour and line with Dynamic effect. The subject’s gaze is averted, but her expression conveys an almost demonic intensity, as the artist set up a call and response between her own features and the petals of the potted cyclamen plant extending toward us.

In response to a comment I received on yesterday's balloon image......Yes! Lift off is chaotic mayhem! But it is a well orchestrated mayhem! Each crew knows every move, from laying out the envelope on the ground, to lighting the burners and guiding the balloon to an upright position. There is a flurry of last minute preparation and then the balloon lifts off , peacefully floating above the activity below. It is such a thrill to be in the midst of the mayhem, as nearly 600 balloons take their turn to inflate and rise to meet their friends in the sky!

Représentation de La France.

 

Thème : Le Cirque "dynamite"! / Dynamite Circus

 

Firme : JCO

 

JCO (Jacques Couturier Organisation) est spécialisée dans la création de spectacles pyromusicaux depuis 25 ans. Entre autres, la firme a remporté le premier prix à Da Nang au Vietnam en 2010 et la finale des vainqueurs à Monaco en 2009. Pour sa première participation à L’International des Feux Loto-Québec, JCO lance une invitation à un cirque artificiel époustouflant orchestré par un M. Loyal super énergie et mettant en scène une succession d’artistes imaginaires dans un spectacle teinté d’humour et de poésie. Pour cette soirée au cirque, JCO convie les spectateurs à une féérie circassienne sur des musiques d’inspiration internationale, de Stan Getz et John Williams en passant par Brigitte Fontaine et Édith Piaf, NoiZe et même la musique des Feux Follets! Divertissement, humour et émotions assurés!

 

JCO (Jacques Couturier Organization) has been renowned as a specialist in the creation of pyromusical displays for 25 years. The company has won several awards, including first prize in Da Nang in Vietnam in 2010 and at the Finale des vainqueurs in Monaco in 2009. For its first participation in L’International des Feux Loto-Québec, JCO is presenting a compelling artificial circus orchestrated by a super energetic Mr. Loyal and featuring a collection of imaginary artists in a display filled with humour and poetry. For this evening at the circus, JCO invites the public to a unique extravaganza on the soundtrack of international scope featuring Stan Getz and John Williams, Brigitte Fontaine and Édith Piaf, NoiZe and even the music of the Feux Follets! Entertaining, funny and highly emotional!

 

www.laronde.com/fr/larondefr/linternational-des-feux/france

-Good evening Gotham! Our top story tonight: GCPD has its hands full as a mysterious vigilante has been dispensing hard justice on Gotham criminals. Could this be the work of the supposed Batman? Or is this another crimefighter at work? We bring you-

 

-In the wake of the Blackgate riots not one year ago, dozens of escaped inmates have become inspired by their rescuers, and have started donning masked personas of their own. Though the majority of inmates are now back in custody, and awaiting transfer to Stryker's Island, Metropolis, police are still searching for the mastermind the media has branded "The Bloody Butterfly-"

 

-Jeremy Seinfeld's trial concluded today. The 38 year old calling himself Zodiac Master was arrested four months ago when he orchestrated the hijacking on flight-

 

-John Comet marks the fifth child to have gone missing in the past two days. The three year old was snatched from his bed between 6 and 7 pm. Commissioner Gordon has assured the families that their children *will* be found safely, warning the kidnappers that-

 

-After much hushed tones, The Falcone Construction company is proud to announce that Arkham Asylum will open it's doors to the public once more. The newly established warden, Charles Cavendish, has declared no case or ailment is too small to be treated and no families shall be ignored. Of course, skepticism is high, with the involvement of Carmine Falcone, not all changes are expected to be well received-

 

I shouldn't be here. Five children have disappeared, more have probably gone unreported but *Uhn* here I am. Martin Cole was the third victim, admitted to Gotham General yesterday to receive treatment for his hemophilia. Doctors described "A Ragdoll" crawling through the window, and taking the toddler while he slept. When I returned there to pick up any clues, this... Thing attacked me. One of Falcone's men? Or does he work for the kidnappers?

 

"Who are you? What do you know about the missing children?"

 

He's clad in black. Metal, blood soaked horns adorn his head. He doesn't speak, only growls. That's fine by me, because I'm wasting enough time. Have to end this. Fast.

 

"Penny One, tell me you have something on this monster"

 

Alfred- One moment sir.

 

Over Comms, at the Batcave, there's movement on the newly named Batcomputer.

 

Alfred- I'm afraid reports are scarce, Master Bruce, all I can find is a news report dating five years ago. "The Metalhead Murderer," they called him. He killed the Blüdhaven police chief, two of his captains, and then... Nothing. Vanished.

 

So our mystery man has a name...

 

"Metalhead, then. Falcone hire you to bring me in?"

 

MH- Wrong, Bat. Falcone may've wanted you alive. But my employer? *He* wants you dead.

 

Batman- Then he's going to be disappointed.

 

===The Gotham Sewer Systems===

 

Maxie Lloyd. Age two. Male. Catch of the day.

His captor whistles through crooked teeth, and, emerging from the broken pipes, a trail of rodents follow them dutifully. The toddler cries, of course- he's only human, but the rat-man, this sewer king, continues on his way, his soul filled with nothing more than general apathy. The Ratcatcher approaches what appears to be a dead end, only for him to locate a series of bricks in the wall, and clap them sequentially with his lantern. As if by some form of magic, dark magic, the wall gives way to the Ratcatcher's lair. Horrified by what he sees, little Maxie Lloyd lets out a shriek, only for it to be muffled by the Ratcatcher's rubber glove around his mouth. He may've learned to block out the screaming, but his rats haven't.

 

"Quiet."

 

Above them, are ten children, chained up along the walls. Puncture marks in their right arms denote where a needle has freshly pierced their skin. Along the walls are jars of spiders, snakes, snails, preserved in greenish liquids. The floors are littered with Ratcatcher's pets, feasting on victims from long ago. From his laboratory, a dark figure watches them, little more than unholy mass of rags and bones. Noticing him, The Ratcatcher mutters "Fresh meat" and hoists the child up for his inspection.

It's crying, the figure thinks. Why is it crying? Half the fun was finding out why. Hematophobia, fear of blood? Misophobia, fear of rats? Agoraphobia, fear of social embarrassment? Or... Yes, perhaps. Nick nack paddy wack, give the dog a bone.

 

"Yes, Mr Flannegan, this one will do nicely."

 

The figure leans over, locking eyes with his new patient. His eyes are red, red with a splash of yellow. His pupils are dilated, but he is unblinking. And he gives his diagnosis.

 

"Phobophobia. The fear, of fears. Oh, don't worry, child, it's only natural."

 

He leans over to the Ratcatcher, the man he called Flannegan, and whispers in his ear.

"I want him ready for the trials. Prepare test 01.11"

 

The screaming child is carried off, and the figure grins, a single candle illuminates his horrific visage, a visage that gives even Flannegan nightmares, let alone the children he's kidnapped. And with good reason, the figure laughed, after all, Formidophobia is remarkably common. The fear, of Scarecrows.

The heart and soul of the CDN is its members; the hardworking pilots, soldiers, crewmen, and engineers who fight the fight against the enemies of justice.

 

The highest ranking military commander in the CDN is CMDR Declan Shaw. Shaw has served in the military since the days it was called the Capitol Defense Fleet (CDF) and commanded battalions of troops. It was Shaw who served as first officer aboard the CLC Defiance when CMDR Sweigart broke away from the CDF and founded the Colonial Liberation Corps. During the battle of Daedalus Alpha III, Shaw commanded fleets of Thunderbird Gunships, famously re-taking grid C11 from enemy hands. Later in the war, he helped orchestrate the wide-spread evacuation of the planet and one year later, accepted the reigns of leaderships in the wake of CMDR Sweigart's mysterious disappearance. With Sweigart's whereabouts unknown and the CLC Defiance lost, Shaw reorganized the CLC into the Colonial Defense Navy and continues to lead in the endeavor to rebuild the colonies and her interests.

"May Contain Fish" by Maya Paris at „Moving Islands"

 

This picture is based on a part of the collaboration project „Moving Islands“ orchestrated by Eupalinos Ugain on LEA20

 

The Sim shows a "Cosmogony of Rafts and other improbable floating beings". All is spectacular, all is moving. Absolutely worth a visit

link to the destination

  

See more at the LEA-Blog

_________________________________________________________________

 

Moving Islands

 

Participating Artists:

 

● Alpha Auer - www.flickr.com/photos/alpha_auer/

● Artistide Despres - artist-id.blogspot.com/

● Aston Leisen - www.flickr.com/photos/aston_leisen/

● CapCat Ragu - www.flickr.com/photos/capcatragu/

● Cica Ghost - www.flickr.com/photos/64860898@N05/

● Cutea Benelli - www.flickr.com/photos/grimbros/

● Derek Michelson

● Eupalinos Ugajin - eupalinosugajin.wordpress.com/

● Haveit Neox - accalpha.blogspot.com/

● Kake Broek - www.flickr.com/photos/13539895@N06/

● Kikas Babenco - www.flickr.com/photos/kikas_babenco/

● Livio Korobase - www.flickr.com/photos/liviokorobase/

● Maclane Mills - www.flickr.com/photos/absence/

● Marmaduke Arado - www.flickr.com/photos/28090997@N03/

● Maya Paris

● Meilo Minotaur - www.flickr.com/photos/meilominotaur/

● Merlino Mayo - www.flickr.com/photos/merlinomayo/

● Oberon Onmura - www.flickr.com/photos/oberon_onmura/

● Ole Etzel - www.flickr.com/photos/boned/

● Pallina60 Loon - www.flickr.com/photos/pallina60loon/

● Scottius Polke - srolfe.com/

● Simotron Aquila - www.flickr.com/photos/simotron/

● Takio Ra

●Uan Ceriaptrix - www.flickr.com/photos/uanguz/

_________________________________________________________________

 

More pictures from the LEA-ART-project, see my set "LEA - Linden Endowment for the Arts" - Follow this link

 

(More information about the LEA project on the LEA-Website - follow this link)

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

The "Somewhere in sl" picture series (or "The Adventures of WuWai in Second Life") is my guide and bookmark folder to wonderful, artful, curious or in other way remarkably sims of second life with travel guide WuWai Chun.

 

(More pictures of WuWai's adventures: Follow this link)

 

You can find some of the pictures in world at my homeland

_________________________________________________________________

 

Members from the Fleet Reconnaissance & Operations Group (FROG) conducted fast rope training at their dedicated facility.

 

The Fleet Reconnaissance and Operations Group (FROG) is the Royal Victorian Navy’s Special Operations Capable Unit. It includes the Royal Victorian Navy’s Maritime Action Teams and the Royal Victorian Marines’ Commando Raider Company. In addition to reconnaissance, the unit specialize in direct action with a maritime component. Examples are the seizures and occupation of gas/oil platforms (GOPLAT) and the Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure (VBSS) of ships during Maritime Interdiction Operations (MIO), as well as orchestrating close air support, a vital skill exercised in DA missions. Commando Raiders forward observe from static positions and spider holes for artillery and naval gunfire support, or ordnance and payload delivery.

 

Note: The story, all names, characters, and incidents are fictitious.

Don't use this image on websites,blogs or other media, without my explicit permission. View On Black

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

♪♫♪♫ Erik Satie - Gymnopedie No.3 (Orchestrated by Debussy) ♪♫♪♫

  

"Now very often events are set up for photographers... The weddings are orchestrated about the photographers taking the picture, because if it hasn't been photographed it doesn't really exist." -Elliott Erwitt

Heavenly Cloud Reflection

#clouds #reflection #sunset #nature #lake #dramatic #golden #mirror #serene #landscape #stunning #wilderness

A breathtaking lakeside scene captures nature's perfect symmetry as dramatic clouds create a celestial masterpiece above pristine waters. Powerful sunbeams pierce through towering cumulus formations, casting golden light across the sky in radial patterns. The lake's mirror-like surface creates a flawless reflection, doubling the visual impact of the spectacular cloud formations. Dense evergreen forests form dark silhouettes along both shorelines, framing this natural theater. The interplay between light and shadow transforms ordinary clouds into sculptural elements, with brilliant white highlights contrasting against deep blue atmospheric depths. This moment represents the magical transition between day and evening, when nature orchestrates its most dramatic displays. The composition demonstrates perfect balance - earth, water, and sky harmoniously united in a single frame that speaks to the sublime beauty of untouched wilderness landscapes.

Vincent told Aiden he'd be in touch but mysteriously he was not. While Aiden attended practices with Charlotte three times already, it didn't distract him from thinking nonstop about Vincent. Though, it was kind of Charlotte to invite him out for ice cream on Friday afternoon after practice. She had noticed he seemed distracted and wanted to give him something to smile about. Admittedly, having ice cream did help boost his spirits, and he was happy to enjoy a walk with his friend while her maid chaperoned behind them.

Charlotte and Lady Dubois reported that Vincent seemed well whenever they'd seen him as of late, so he wasn't as worried as he would have been otherwise. But after a week of not hearing from him, Aiden went to Vincent's flat but there was no answer. Finally, after missing him twice more, he scribbled out a note and wedged it into his door late Sunday evening. Hopefully, Vincent would get back to him soon. He was starting to feel anxious! He was still unconvinced that Vincent was really fine after their last meeting. And not only was Vincent nowhere to be found, but the masquerade was coming up! Aiden had no idea what he was supposed to do or where to go! At this point, all he could do was wait for Vincent to reach out. Worst case, he'd just have to go to the Dubois manor alone.

But, thankfully, a letter was delivered the next evening that finally eased the worst of his anxiety. It was from Vincent! Aiden read the note and felt relieved to find out that Vincent would be coming over Wednesday to help him get ready. He'd apologized for his silence by explaining that he'd been unexpectedly busy since his uncle's return to the city.

Wednesday morning finally came and with it brought an onslaught of nervous butterflies in Aiden's stomach. Tonight was the night of the masquerade! He'd not slept as well as he'd have liked, but now that he was up, there was no way he was going back to sleep. Time passed so damn slowly until finally the time of Vincent's expected arrival made its approach.

Vincent had spent the last two days processing his newfound feelings about Aiden. What was he supposed to do?! Unfortunately, he was no closer to any answers than he was two days ago. As much as he wanted to continue to hide away and pretend this wasn't happening, he had obligations to fulfill.

Vincent arrived at Leon's Claw on time and felt his heart flutter as he saw that winning smile of Aiden's and how his eyes lit up upon seeing him. Vincent, as if nothing were amiss, smiled in return. He'd already made arrangements with Damien to meet him at the masquerade, so he didn't have to worry about him until tonight. For now, he could focus on helping Aiden get ready and meeting with his family as planned.

During Vincent's time catching up with Aiden, he was a little worried that Aiden would start elaborating about his visits to the Dubois house; particularly about his time spent with Charlotte. But, thankfully, Aiden didn't really speak about his practice time at all. He merely mentioned that during one of his visits he'd been told about the celebration that had been planned this past Sunday and asked Vincent how it went. Apparently, Aiden had not been introduced to Vincent's uncle yet after all. Honestly, Vincent was a little surprised that Charlotte hadn't orchestrated that already. Though, Aiden would certainly be meeting him tonight. There was no way around that fact now. Once upon a time, he'd been somewhat looking forward to introducing them. Now he was starting to dread it thanks to Charlotte.

After Aiden and Vincent made sure they had their invitations, suits, and everything else they'd need for the evening they locked up Leon's Claw and departed for the Dubois manor. Aiden felt a little better seeing Vincent acting more like his usual self. Maybe whatever was bothering him was no longer an issue? At least Vincent was smiling more genuinely again...or so it seemed. Indeed, he was none-the-wiser to Vincent's internal struggles. He had no idea that Vincent was very much not okay and was, in fact, fighting a small anxiety attack as they drew closer to the manor. He was just very well-practiced in masking his emotions.

They were received by Bernadette, who was to be staying home that evening with Abigail to help care for the children. Once they made it inside, Aiden was shown a guest room where he could store his items until it was time to change and get ready. They only had another hour until then, so they were invited to the family sitting room for tea.

Abigail was waiting there with the three youngest children who were playing a board game on the coffee table to pass the time. Though, at the sight of Vincent and Aiden the children all jumped to their feet to greet them happily! It didn't take very long for Aiden to get roped into playing a quick game with them while Vincent sat with his elder cousins and watched in amusement.

The next hour passed quickly and soon it was time to start getting ready! Vincent took it upon himself to escort Aiden along the hallway to his guest room while his cousins went to start washing up for dinner. Aiden was such a big hit with his family! Everyone, including the children, seemed to really enjoy having him around.

"We'll be meeting in the entrance hall in an hour," Vincent explained as they turned down the guest hallway and Aiden moved to walk alongside him. "It's easy to get to, but if you need help with anything you can ask any of the staff."

"I appreciate it. Thank you."

"Mhm."

"Who is coming tonight?"

"Mm, it is no small affair. There will be a lot of people in attendance."

"I meant your family. Is it really just us, Charlotte, and your aunt and uncle?"

"Oh, right. Yes, that's correct."

"I'm surprised Bernadette and Abigail aren't going."

"Heh, Abigail doesn't do large crowds. I daresay she hates them more than I do."

"What about Bernadette?"

"It's not exactly her cup of tea, either." Vincent actually chuckled and smirked a little before adding, "Let's just say your toes should be grateful that I asked Abby to join us instead for practice the last few weeks."

Aiden laughed softly as they made it to the second floor and turned down the hall that led to Aiden's guest room. He remembered Vincent and Abigail joking about that once or twice during their practices. Aiden knew that Bernadette proudly did not consider herself a "proper lady" and would rather be mixing medicines or be out in the woods. Honestly, that wildness was something that Aiden loved about her.

They had made it to Aiden's room. With one hand on the handle Aiden glanced back at Vincent with a small smile and felt his heart thump heavily in his chest as he gazed at the man he'd come to love. Perhaps after tonight, once he figured out how to tell Vincent how he felt...well, maybe Vincent would finally feel the same way about him. He couldn't falter now. He'd come this far! Finally, after a long moment Aiden said softly, "So...I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, see you soon."

Vincent felt as if he could get lost staring into those ocean eyes of his. Instead, after responding, he smiled slightly and forced himself to turn and set off in the other direction so he could head back towards his room. Aiden was dangerous! Damn it all! He just needed to get through tonight! Tomorrow, he could go back to trying to figure this all out.

Vincent felt like he was moving slowly as he undressed, his mind occupied with thoughts about tonight. Not only was he still undecided about how to handle this situation with Aiden, he also was dreading the ball, itself. There would be many people there; many who loved small talk and others who would try to ignore him so blatantly without caring to pretend otherwise. Between his scarring and more effeminate appearance, people often tried to avoid him. He was a quiet fellow anyways and most people knew that by now. He'd spent most of the last ball hiding and avoiding everyone if he could help it. It...hadn't gone as well as he'd have liked. Thankfully, this time it was a masquerade and people were less likely to recognize him.

And now he stared at himself in the mirror at the unsightly vertical scar that ran through his right eye. Honestly, he'd grown more used to it in the past couple of years but it was always such a painful reminder of what had happened. It wasn't so long ago that he couldn't even stand to look at himself in the mirror. But in the more recent months, he'd begun to appreciate his own appearance more. It was more noticeable, not just to his family, but to Vincent. It showed in how he held himself, how he dressed, how he did his hair...

Even now, as he sat and began brushing out his long hair, he began to envision how he wanted to do it. Most of the time he wore his hair the usual way: in a braid with his bangs in his face as if he didn't exist. He felt it always made him seem unapproachable and less noticeable at that. That was how he liked it. Yet with his renewed sense of self, he didn't really need to think about it too much. Something that was still him...something different...better...

Upon his arrival to the entrance hall, Vincent discovered he was the first to arrive. He glanced towards the clock. Surely the others would be joining him any moment. He tucked his hands behind him and bounced slowly on the balls of his feet. In an effort to keep his anxiety at bay, he kept himself distracted by staring at a painted family portrait up on the wall from about ten years ago. He was so preoccupied and lost in thought that he didn't realize a moment later that he was no longer alone.

"Wow."

A breathless voice spoke up so quietly behind him that Vincent almost thought he'd imagined it. He slowly turned and was amazed to find that the breathless voice belonged to Aiden. His tone had suggested that whatever he saw was perhaps the most stunning creature he'd ever laid eyes on. And if that were true...then why was Aiden staring at HIM?

The way Aiden's gorgeous eyes shimmered in wonder and how his lips parted into such a handsome smile...how Aiden seemed to look like a fairy tale prince come to life in his ballroom attire... He'd even partially pulled his hair back and it only added to his maturity. Vincent had never seen Aiden look so grown up in all the time he'd known him.

Vincent's breath hitched in his throat as he felt himself feel frozen and yet also suddenly very warm. There was an odd tightening in his chest that was painful and yet felt so pleasant at the same time. Vincent swallowed hard and turned more to face Aiden; unable to help being pulled into his admiring gaze as Aiden stood there staring at him like that still. Vincent's heart beat hard in his chest and his lips parted, unsure what was going to come out. But before Vincent could speak...

"Aiden, you're here!"

Very suddenly, the moment was gone as Charlotte's voice cut through the silence. Vincent silently cursed as above Aiden, at the top of the staircase, stood his younger cousin. She smiled so brilliantly as she descended the stairs. She clearly had eyes only for Aiden. The sight made Vincent want to grind his teeth bitterly.

Aiden, of course, had turned at the sudden call of his name and a warm smile broke out upon his face as he saw the young lady he was to escort for the evening. She was an absolute vision! Aiden couldn't understand how someone who was as kind and sweet as she was beautiful was still available. And as Charlotte joined him at his side, he extended his arm out to her graciously to which she happily took with a smile.

"It's so good to see you. You look dashing!" Charlotte exclaimed softly as she squeezed his arm and gently tugged him to step off the stairs with her. And as they did, Aiden replied with a chuckle, "Thank you. It's good to see you, too. You look lovely!"

"You're too kind. Have you been waiting long?"

"Oh no, I just got down here..."

Vincent stood off to the side and slightly in the shadows as the two walked past him, locked in their own conversation. He tried to ignore the feeling as if the floor had been yanked out from under him. Now that Charlotte was here, the moment he had been sharing with Aiden was long gone. Or maybe it was really nothing and he had simply misunderstood what he thought was Aiden's infatuated look? From above he could hear the sound of his uncle and aunt's voices growing closer which meant it was time to put a brave face on.

With a deep breath, Vincent pushed down his conflicting feelings of anger and sadness and forced an amiable smile upon his face. He could do this. He just had to. He'd deal with the consequences of whatever came of all this tomorrow. It was all he could do.

 

---

NEXT PART: (Soon to come!)

  

To select another chapter (or even start from the beginning), here's the album link:

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***Please note this is a BOY LOVE (LGBTQ+) series. It is a slow burn and is rated YOUNG ADULT!***

 

Special thank you to my husband Vin for collaborating with me on this series and co-starring as The Captain!

 

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the hours after school are the most challenging for me.... snacks, homework, dinner... orchestration of all these times three. a chance to practice patience every day. (this is what my psychologist husband tells me.)

 

reflections: literally.

  

Snowshoe hares dashing through the awakening forest, birds orchestrating a symphony (make sure your volume is up), and the snowfall are all signs of Springtime in Alaska. The snow, while persistent, carries a unique beauty, a tranquil heaviness that blankets the land. We hold onto the hope that by morning, it will be a memory, and we can welcome the weather that truly embodies springtime, a season of anticipation and optimism.

These glamorous girls look like they shop at Tiffany's

Orchestrated shot .

 

Myer Christmas parade

Brisbane

“You are a valuable instrument in the orchestration of your own world, and the overall harmony of the universe. Always be in command of your music. Only you can control and shape its tone. If life throws you a few bad notes or vibrations, don't let them interrupt or alter your song.”

― Suzy Kassem

 

I love music, music has always played a big part in my life. I get tingles of inspiration when I think about performing and the magic music holds. More often than not, I begin to tear up when listening to beautiful melodies when I'm on the bus and try to hold them back to avoid a scene taking place in public. I think its so universal and connects us in both its and our truest forms.

The folds in the bride's dress at Beijing's Temple of Heaven reminded me of a matador's cape. Out of the frame are the couple's friends who were orchestrating the shoot, something that didn't seem to overly impress the young lady's somewhat wooden partner :)

Ned Mansour - Beautifoto Model

  

The story below has it threads from a daydream I had on our way home to wales, two days after our family attended a formal do in Scotland.

 

My twin brother and I were just 16.

 

Mum had me dressed up in a brown satin gown that mimicked her green one.

 

I was wearing rhinestone jewellery.

 

Mum was wearing her expensive diamond earrings, which I alone felt received far too much attention from strangers. Or was I just jealous?

 

Then I had the unsettling experience of my fancy rhinestone bracelet vanishing from my wrist under, what I alone had felt, were suspicious circumstances.

 

But thoughts like that are what goes with the territory of the pickpocketing games my twin brother and I like to role-play at home.

 

Though my bracelet was found and returned the next day, the events at the posh dance in Scotland, added with the vivid circumstances of what I dreamed that evening the night I lost it, along with my speculation over what caused my bracelet’s loss, remained firmly entrenched in my imagination.

 

And yes, at the dance, there was one sly-eyed lady who attached herself to our family. A far too slick talking stranger who I felt uneasy around and did not trust from the getgo.

 

So, with all that said:

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Dirty Rotten Scoundrel

(I preyed till the end)

 

A female pickpockets perspective

 

I do love a good, ultra-posh gathering, especially when I’m not invited and have to crash it.

 

This evening I was able to slip in with a group of chirpy young ladies.

 

Easily entering the establishment and orchestrating an even easier bumping lift of a fat leather wallet from the dangling purse carried by one of the taffeta-gowned ladies in my surrogate group.

 

It all give me a tingly feeling of good things to come as I went to the lady’s washroom just off a hall by the main exit.

 

There, in a stall, I emptied the wallet of notes, £200, and discarded it under a linen-covered table piled high with small towels on my way out.

 

I left the powder room, now hungrily on the prowl as I explored my new patch.

 

I meandered around. Admiring, to myself, the glamorous gowns, dresses, and delicious jewels the ladies were wearing.

 

Gleamingly smooth pearls, glittery diamonds, and stunning pieces set with every colour of gemstones imaginable.

 

All are displayed in abundance along mouth-wateringly well-fitted velvet, satin, taffeta, and other sleek backdrops of an expensive ladies' attire.

 

My eyes also eagerly took in the plump bulges of pockets holding thicke wallets and shiny gold and silver watches being worn by the regulation-required tuxedo-clad males who accompanied some of the ladies.

 

Myself? I was dressed in a tight-fitted, soft velvet frock, perfect for squirming in close and also carrying a shoulder purse. Not too large, I needed to fit in with the primarily clutch purse-carrying ladies. Which, aside from wearing only 1/4 carat stud diamonds in my ears, I somewhat did.

 

It was a most titillating experience, moving in and out of the crowded main room, casually looking over the well-dressed guests. Hunting for an opportunity.

 

Which I soon found, an early twenties male, succulent in a black tux and hand-tied bow tie sporting a gold watch chain around his waist. Along with the noticeable bulge( no not that kind) of a thicke note-filled wallet in his jacket pocket.

 

I walked by, gathering his attention. His eyes followed and I stopped and pulled a cigarette and round lighter from my purse.

 

I carry two lighters a square one I use privately, and a round one that has no fuel.

 

I unsuccessfully tried to light my cigarette.

 

Soon a hand was extended with a lighter. It was my mark. He lit it, and as I bent over my hand went to his chest, reached in, and nimbly lifted out his long fat wallet, deposited it in my purse, along with my lighter.

 

Successful pickpocketing is all based on how well one pulls off distracting your mark. The move I just pulled off by drawing away attention using an empty lighter is one I use a lot in crowded pubs. Successfully I might add, on both men and women.

 

I was chatting with him a bit before making an excuse and pulling away. Far too many other opportunities around to waste time chatting with a pickpocketed mark.

 

I again went to the powder room and inside a stall, extracted £850 from the wallet.

 

I heard someone come in but did not enter a stall.

 

After a few minutes of fumbling noises, I heard the water running and splashing.

A female voice was talking.

 

On silent feet, I carefully opened the stall door and slipped out. Around the corner where the sinks were located, a voluptuous lady in lavender velvet was washing her face.

 

She was talking to herself, thinking she was alone. She appeared to be having issues with contact lenses by the way she was damning them.

 

I looked around her figure. A pricey necklace glittered reflecting in the mirror.

 

On the side of the sink, facing me, we’re long matching lavender satin gloves.

On top of which was a shiny pile of jewels, rings, gold bracelets, and a Rolex ladies watch with diamonds circling the face.

 

With her eyes closed, she had turned away towards the linen-covered table and was reaching blindly for a towel.

 

I threw the empty wallet under the table.

 

As she was distracted by the noise, I reached over with my other hand and picked up the jeweled timepiece. Then I slipped out the door before she turned back to face the mirror.

 

I headed back out the hallway, finally letting out my breath, with the intention of getting a drink and taking a well-earned break as I decided what to do next. This patch was a gold mine, but have I had my run?

 

That would be a big No, to my run of luck being over….

 

For, as I walked out the door, I fell in step behind a pair of exceptionally well-dressed middle-aged teenagers maybe 16-year-olds, brother and sister, so possibly twins?

 

Both had soft red hair and adorably large hazel eyes.

 

The sister’s soft hair flowed silkily down back in a thin downy feathery fall to just below her shoulders. And just as her hair had an almost fluid spill, so did the ultra-soft expensive gown she wore. As I walked behind them, my mark ran her hand, ring and bracelet rippling with rich sparkles, along her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulder so it was hanging down in front, exposing her neck to me.

  

She was deliciously sumptuous in a long flimsy thin silk gown of dark chocolate with rhinestone trimmings. The slinking gown was a wide shoulder halter top, with a slight flare at the bottom, sweeping over the top of silver sandals. I was admiring how the dress fell, gently affirming with tight lines, her youthfully graceful figure.

 

The tuxedo-wearing brother appears to be overly protective of his sister.

 

And of no surprises why…

 

They reached a table and he actually seated her like a real adult male.

 

I circled for a better look, my eyes not believing what they had glimpsed.

 

She was indeed wearing some pretty valuable jewellery for one of her age.

 

A silver, wide chocker-style necklace filled with precious diamonds blazingly encircled her neck. It was something one expected a royal to wear.

A pair of amazing chandelier-style earrings twinkled down from her ears.

A wide diamond bracelet lay elegantly around one of her heavy cream-coloured satin glove-clad wrists.

A mouthwatering ring with a large centre diamond graced her right pinkie.

She also had a brilliant eye-catching broach, small, but set with obscenely valuable diamonds, dangling provokingly between small firm breasts, set in the v of her sleek gown’s neckline.

 

As I had been following I was able to observe the simple clasps of both necklace and bracelet. My fingers itching the whole time.

 

I sat myself down at a nearby side bench along a side walkway leading to the hallway down which were the washrooms.

 

From my perch, I watched them, while pretending to watch the dancers on the ballroom floor across to the far side of the room. I was close enough to catch snippets of their conversation. I had a side view of the brother, a delightfully frontal view of his deliciously pretty twin sister.

 

I marveled over how I hadn’t been here 30 minutes and aside from already making several nice lifts, had stumbled across a wealthy young chick wearing real diamonds, playing peekaboo along her delightful figure. The whole display just cried out to a thief:

“Here I am,naïvely displaying jewels ripe for the plucking!”

 

I had my eye on her dazzling necklace as my preferred target. I began making a full study of it. As she was innocently sitting there chatting with her brother, I wondered if it had ever entered into her wildest dreams that the jewels she was wearing were ever at such a risk of being stolen.

 

Probably not, and all I had to do was watch and wait for opportunities, with which I had several methods to deal with.

 

One of which I made ready by reaching down and undoing my right open-toed shoe strap, then, trap set, sat back and waited, watching my chosen mark.

 

Oh, The right shoe strap because I am

left-handed. Now just needed my red-haired mark to use the lady’s loo.

 

I soon found that where I sat was indeed in a good location.

 

Lots of potential prospects were passing me by. But none yet had on targetable jewellery as the diamonds the sumptuously chocolate-gowned red head fetchingly wore, especially around her throat.

 

I kept refocussing my attention on her.

 

The brother was bored.

 

He was trying to get his sister to join in on some type of adventure. But she told him they were both too dressed up to play.

 

I thought to myself:

“Listen to your brother luv, It would be delicious to stumble across you pair outside, alone, looking for adventures.”

 

I then took my eyes off the savory diamonds around the young girl’s throat, because an older red-headed version of the girl had joined them.

 

Their mum I correctly surmised. Watching her son help seat her. Wish it was me seating her as I would use that opportunity to lift valuables from her fine figure.

 

The mother was elegantly dressed in a shiny green satin number. It had a knee-length skirt with quarter-length sleeves and a playfully low scooped neckline.

 

The dress, like her daughter’s gown, showed off every bump and curve of her still youthful figure.

 

And she, like her daughter, was also expensively wearing diamonds. But my lord, what a decadent collection of jewels.

 

A set of sparking ‘ice’ that included stunningly long diamond earrings, diamond bib style necklace, and a flashy diamond-filled bracelet. She also wore two gemmed cocktail rings on the bare fingers of her right hand. A wedding band and diamonds on her left’s ring finger. Flashing out from the V on her shiny dress was a large emerald broach, the same green color as her eyes.

And to literally top it all off, perched on her head like a crown, was set an actual dainty diamond-encrusted tiara!

 

Perhaps they were (very) minor royals after all?

 

I would have loved to see her daughter wearing a tiara also. Not sure how I would have gotten it off her head without notice. But I would have been game for a try.

 

The mother appeared to be alone. No husband for whatever reason seemed to be with them, judging by body language. A language I have become an expert in deciphering.

 

So the 16-year-old male was apparently the only security that lay between me and lifting some precious diamonds from either the females at the table with him. Though I still favored lifting jewels from the more susceptible sister sitting there dressed like a princess.

 

So this young watchman could probably easily be led astray long enough for me to plan out an approach.

 

This made things quite interesting. As I pondered over how to accomplish luring him off, I listened in some more, soon learning:

 

The father was not with them, I was right about that.

 

With the father gone their fetchingly attractive, well-dressed, very wealthy mother was open game to many interested males asking her to dance.

 

Hence her two kids were bored and tired of being alone so much, the fact of which appeared to go over their mum’s diamond shimmering head.

 

I licked my lips, it would seem that opportunity was going to be knocking at my door if only the mother would leave her children alone again so they could hopefully become open targets.

 

I was hell-bent on acquiring the daughter’s appealing necklace once the mum, then her brother, were both finally out of the picture.

 

But it was then that a lady walked by, holding her young toddler. She swished her way right past where I was sitting. Too aloof apparently to notice me. And I had to do a double take on what she wore around her throat.

 

She was expensively dressed in satin, with a double row of smooth, valuably matched, pearls around her throat. Her long hair is conveniently up. I watched with salivating interest as she made her way past me to the powder room, a child clinging to her shoulder.

 

When that Lass disappeared, my eyes went back to the table with its diamond-wearing Lass.

 

The lad was still trying to talk his balking sister into doing something, anything.

 

She was engagingly adjusting an earring, listening to him with an enchanting smile.

 

Their mum was idly smoking a cigarette, her eyes on the dance floor, her mind a million miles away.

 

Then the young mum wearing the pearls came out from the powder room hallway, and my attention was once again drawn away by an opportunity I simply could not allow myself to pass up.

 

Out of the corner of my, I saw her approach my bench, her gown flicking pleasingly along her figure.

 

I reached down and fumbled with my loose strap.

 

As I heard her approach, I look up and ask her if she could help me fasten my heel strap.

 

Her pearl necklace was magnificent.

 

She chirped politely, “Pleased to help you miss…”

Not sounding aloof in the least as she sat her toddler down. The child was adorably dressed in white satin and looked at me with wide-eyed wonder.

 

As her mum scrunched down I look around. Coast was clear for lift off…

 

Dipping my left hands' fingers in and locating her now dangling necklace of pearls’ clasp, I easily undo it, then in one motion lift them up and out from around her neck.

 

Her swinging ropes of pearls are in my purse before she finishes redoing my loose strap and stands up.

 

I hear the child giggling and I stroke her satiny attire as the mother stood straightening her dress.

 

She politely twittered “There you go, so happy I could help .”

 

I smiled back:

“So was I, beautiful child.”

 

Happily housing up her child, she left, not noticing she was a few pricy kilograms lighter around her throat.

 

I watched her move safely off, still admiring the way her gown moved. Mulling over in my mind if I could have lifted a diamond tiara that easily?

 

With those succulent imaginings I eagerly look back over at the table I had been keeping an eye on.

 

It was empty…!

 

My potential mark was gone, that quickly. Had the young twins gone out? We’re they with their mum? I was cursing myself. The pearls were a nice haul. But had I let real diamonds slip from my fingers!

 

I sighed, rising, straightening my dress, and began to move off, thinking to grab a smoke outside to settle my now overly excited nerves.

 

Then I spotted a young lady attired all in black satin, consisting of a long dress and bolero jacket.

 

She was sitting alone three tables away from the one where the twins had sat. Two empty cocktail glasses were at her elbow, a half-full one in front of her.

 

She was smoking the last vestiges of a cigarette. A thin necklace valuably set with a single row of diamonds flickered up around her throat as she blew a wispy stream of smoke. With one hand she brushed back her long wavy hair, exposing an expensive diamond tennis bracelet that blazed up from her wrist as she did.

 

“She’s trying to attract attention.” I thought, wondering if she had a clue as to whose attention she had just attracted.

 

I quickly moved in and took the seat next to her.

“Mind if I sit here a few minutes to catch my breath?”

 

She obviously did mind, but nodded politely, saying nothing, but started looking around.

 

I could tell she was on the prowl, and by noticing her ring finger was bare, she was available.

 

I began the conversation.

“Cannot believe how crowded this party is, and the number of men here.”

 

She nodded, opening her purse and pulling out another cigarette, and holding it up, like a beacon. She smiled at me weakly. Her face had the same sharp moody features of the sultry actress Jean Harlow.

 

“Yeah, it’s been alright, but a lot of ladies also. Been a struggle finding anyone to dance with. But that’s what I get for coming alone.”

 

I smiled, pulling out a cigarette myself, along with my round lighter. I reach over with it and say:

“Here allow me.”

 

I could see in her eyes, that she was disappointed that no male had spotted her and offered to light it. But as my lighter failed to light I saw relief in her eyes and she looked around for a male hero.

 

It was at this point my free hand reached down to her wrist and neatly flicked open the clasp of her diamond-studded bracelet hanging down loosely from her wrist. Slipping it off her wrist and in my purse before she could blink her long eyelashes twice at a suitable male for which she was desperately searching.

 

She gave up her vigil, and turned to me saying :

“That’s ok, You need a lighter that works.”

 

As the girl with the long eyelashes and bare wrists giggled, I replied :

“Oh, it works, sometimes.”

 

With a sigh, she finally pulled her own lighter out and lit both hers and my, cigarettes.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my tux boy come back, with his sister, slinky gown swirling, in tow. Both giggling over something. It was twinging as it struck me how fetchingly pretty his sister was when she was happy.

 

And I was equally happy to see her come back.

 

Instantly my mind turned toward her brother.

If I could just lure him away for a bit. With him out of the way, I should have an open shot at lifting the bloody beautiful necklace his sister was wearing.

 

I had no real plan yet but figured once the young watchman was out of the picture, I could come up with something on the fly.

 

My table mate sighed.

“You know, I may just as well blow this joint. Waste of my time getting dressed up tonight.”

 

I looked away from the lad, back at her, puffing away on her cigarette. An epiphany popped up in my head.

 

Smashing out my half-smoked cigarette, I opened my purse and from the wad of cash I had taken from my first mark, I peeled off £100 in notes of the realm.

 

“See that lad over there? Well before you leave it would be worth this…”

 

I laid the notes on the table

 

“For you to have a couple of dances with. Him.”

 

She looked at the pile of cash, speaking.

“Why would you want to pay me this for taking him dancing?”

 

Her eyes went from the cash on the table to face me with a questioning look, I answered:

“It’s just that his sister, the redhead next to him, had a rather personal question to ask me. And is unable to do so with her brother hovering around.”

 

I could tell she knew I was lying, her eyes looked over the girl head to toe, then dropped to the designer clutch purse at her elbow.

 

“Nice purse that.”

 

She figured that it was her purse I was after. Worth about £400 at a pawn. but she didn’t seem to really care, as neither did I.

 

Scooping up the notes she put them in her purse, a knock-off designer number.

 

Smashing out her cigarette, she rose and bid me an uncaring farewell.

 

I watched as she went up to the table, placed a hand on the lad's shoulder, and said something I was too far away to catch. But he got right up as the lady nodded to his sister, I saw her eyes traveling up and down again, closely drooling over her sumptuous attire.

 

She then led the lad off.

 

As I again found myself becoming mesmerized by the shimmering necklace that lay around his sister’s throat, as she was watching her brother being led off.

 

I shake my head clear, looking away to rationally think.

 

As I did, my elbow hit something, looking down, I found myself staring at the 1/4 full cocktail glass.

 

Speaking of plans on the fly.

 

I picked up the glass and quickly circling, came up from behind to reach my red-headed mark, sitting there with all innocence.

 

As I passed I said:

“Watch it..”

Then let the drink slip from my hand and land in the silken lap of her gorgeous dark chocolate gown.

 

She jumped up immediately, and I was ready with my handkerchief.

 

As I apologized profusely. I Placed one hand on her shoulder and with the other reached down and began sopping up the wet area of her luxurious gown(making sure my fingers reached titillatingly well down along inside her pantyliner to maximize the distraction.

 

All the while the darling girl was confused, becoming aroused, and apologetic all at the same time.

“It’s ok miss, my fault I’m sure, must have startled you, didn’t I!”

 

As she spoke, she looked down watching my hand wiping her, long red hair falling into her face, my hand left her quivering shoulder, and locating the clasp of her necklace, flicked it open. Then I pulled it off from around her neck and dropped it neatly into my open purse on the floor.

 

She pulled her hair up to see, and I grasped her wrist with my now free hand, easily unsnapping her diamond bracelet, where it soon joined its purloined mate inside my purse.

 

“Do you have a handkerchief luv?”

 

She nodded her head no. Chandelier Earrings swing out, wickedly flashing their many tiers of pricy diamonds.

 

“Let’s get you to the washroom and clean you up a bit.”

 

As she lifted the hem of her wet gown I took her by the scintillating silk gowns covered waist and led her off.

 

As she was preoccupied with holding and studying her soiled gown, my fingers holding her waist worked over and unhooking her exceptionally valuable diamond brooch, easily lifting it off. Then I curled my fist around it into a ball.

 

I open the door to the washroom, then as she went in, deposited her brooch in my purse.

 

I handed her a towel, which she took and began wiping off her slippery wet gown

 

As she was bending over to clean down her front, her hair kept again falling down over her face.

 

Here luv, I said taking her soft hair and pulling it back. I laid my fingers cupping her ears. As she was busy wiping off wet spots, I was busy wiping off her ears with a stroking motion. Pulling out her handsomely jeweled earrings in the process.

 

I stood back, dropping the sparklers inside my purse as I watched her bending over to clean up, her slinky thin gown tightly outlining her figure

 

As she finished and stood up, I apologized:

 

“I am so sorry.”

 

Smiling weakly, she hugged me, saying with her head pressed to my shoulder:

 

“That’s s ok accidents happen.”

 

She twittered it pleasantly enough, and I hugged her back.

 

Pulling away I looked her over.

 

“Look you missed a spot.”

 

I lifted her hand and laid it upon the wet area just below her breasts, my fingers tickling. Giggling, she put one hand on my waist for support, and as the other began to wipe her wet spot, I myself wiped off the ring from her slick glove-clad finger.

 

She was now pretty much cleaned up, and thoroughly cleaned out.

 

If only she had been wearing that diamond tiara!

 

I walked back through the exit door as she stayed behind to take care of her business. The excitement, mixed with anguish, made her have to use a stall.

 

I head off down the hall intending on turning towards the exit once I reach it.

 

From what had become a habit, I looked towards the red-headed damsel in distress’s table. Brother is not back yet… but…

 

The wealthy mother, whose glittery diamonds would put a Tiffany’s display case to shame, is back at the table. Gullibly alone. Tiara is glittery like a bloody bright beacon. She is holding an unlit cigarette, a lighter on the table by her purse. She is watching her son on the dance floor.

 

I said thoughtfully to myself knowing the song was almost through and the lady would be dropping him like a hot potato when it was done:

“In for a penny…”

 

Licking my lips with expectations, I pull out my round lighter as I walk up to the twin’s richly attired mother…

“May I? “

 

I lean over as she turned to me, and placed the cigarette in between her red lipstick-covered mouth. Up close, her earrings and tiara flashed into such provoking life it made me blink.

 

As I clumsily knock her overly expensive purse to the floor with my elbow, I tell her:

 

“Can never get these bloody things to work.”

 

Fini

 

I’m not really wicked, just written that way

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Postscript:

 

The dance venue in Scotland had a washroom with a linen-covered table stacked with towels.

 

It was underneath where cleanup found my rhinestone bracelet.

 

Yes, I had used the wash.

 

But what if it had gone like this:

 

An observers viewpoint:

The mum is wearing real diamonds in her earrings. Therefore reasonable to assume her daughter’s bracelet must be real diamonds also, and a young lady is usually the easier pick.

Bracelet is acquired, discovered not to be real, not wishing to be caught with a nicked bracelet of just rhinestone, the evidence is tossed.

 

I mean really, it could have happened that way?

 

“Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

the cat would eat fish, but would not wet her feet

 

Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds

 

My gig of 2015, Joanna Newsome. Sings like a dreamy mediaeval Bjork and plays a mesmerising harp, shadowed by subtle Van Dyke Parks orchestrations. Am in a blissful state whenever I play her albums late nights.

A view of the stages of the eclipse from the Diamond Ring at Contact 2 up to Diamond Ring at Contact 3. Taken from Fireside Campsite Jackson Hole Wyoming. FS60CB at 600mm and Canon 5D Mk3 on a Star Adventurer with Eclipse Orchestrator automating the image capture

A magical experience orchestrated with magical flair.

Just an inch or two above the water.

Acte 8 Footfalls (and the obligatory Epilogue)

Subtitle (striking the irons)

 

It had indeed been a trying day for The Mistress, as had the whole affair actually, and she was just too tired to continue putting up with it.

 

Exhausted after being run through an entire gauntlet of emotions, some of which had been entirely new to her and which she had found to be quite distasteful to someone of her carefully orchestrated upbringing, The mistress took some heavy sleep sedatives and had one of the downstairs servants( Maggie being shunned to the barn) put her to bed.

 

Later that evening as Edmund and her ladyship lay fast asleep in the separate rooms that extend out on either side of the large, shared sitting room, a most rude intrusion is made upon their chambres.

 

A pair of dark figures, moving silently as cats, walk up the stairs from the first floor, where they have spent some time lifting various pieces of silver, but now it was time for their main objectives:

 

They enter Edmunds room first, spending about twenty minutes as they expertly locate and removed his lordships valuables from their various hiding spots, some of which had been unlocked from a ring of keys in the possession of one of the thieves.

  

The pair then enters her Ladyships bedchamber, spending twice as much time inside as they had in Edmund’s chamber. They take great pains to make sure all of her hiding spots are located and relived of the valuables contained within; trying all the remaining keys out from the chain they have in their possession. Their torches touch upon many cases which when opened, contain a dazzling collection of colourful jewels, brite gold and pearls,( white black and coral.) Having been given a sleeping draught, The Mistress is blissfully unaware that all of her expensive jewelry and knickknacks are being collected and placed in a large black carpet bag. And since the Mistress liked to keep are of her most expensive possessions close at hand in her Boudoir, it was quite a large and extremely valuable collection that was being stolen from right under her pointed, upturned nose.

 

They lastly work around the large canopy bed where her ladyship is sleeping peacefully.

 

One of the dark shadowy men peel back the blue satin coverlet, exposing the mistress in her long black nightgown. Thin, dark fingers feel carefully along her satin clad figure checking for anything of value er the Mistress may have worn to bed. A jeweled ruby ring is located, one she always wears to bed feeling that it is the safest place for it, and is ever so gently pulled off her finger.

 

Her silver rhinestone sleeping masque is then lifted off, as are the pair of tortis shell clips holding up her long hair. As they are pulled away, she turns in her bed, saying a name( her lawyers as it so happens) exposing a black string protruding from the bottom of her pillow. The string is pulled, and out comes a black silk pouch. ( later that pouch is found to contain a letter for a certain solicitor along with a healthy wad of fivers!)

A long thin knife is pulled out, and for the second time that evening, the thin straps of her negligee are slit, and the negligee is slowly pulled coff of her figure.

 

The two shadowy figures leave with their loot, and make their way back outside. They almost get away undetected, but for one female servant, who had watched the pair from the servants quarters. And said servant, instead of sounding an alarm, may have chuckled a bit as she hobbled back to her bed and soon had fallen peacefully, innocently, back to sleep….

 

The Obligatory Epilogue :

All’s well that ends well, one can suppose:

Edmund and The Mistress, the robbery effectively relieving them of the last of their savings, and facing the loss of their estates, attempted to get back the money they had paid the crooked magistrate. He immediately had the pair charged and arrested for intimidation of a judge. Unable to pay the fines, they both were sent to debtors prison, where Edmund expired of a heart attack 8 months later, giving Errol the opportunity to inherit the family title.

 

The Dowager Aunt paid the debts of the Estate ( but not those of Edmund and The Mistress), acquiring Staghurst in the process. She set up Errol and his wife in the great estate as overseers; eventually Errol was bequeathed the estate upon the Dowagers passing some 6 years later. The Dowager was buried at Staghurst, and her mausoleum, even though overgrown and buried by vines, can still, not easily, be found..

 

Now it is known that The Mistress was quite inconsolable at Edmund’s funeral, so one would like to think there were some embers of love giving minute bits of heat to an otherwise seemingly soulless heart.

 

Lady Elisa apparently took pity on the poor creature, and convinced His Lordship Errol to forgive the Mistress’s debts. He apparently took money from his own household and finally got her release from debtor’s prison a year after Edmund’s passing. The Dowager Aunt allowed her to rent out one of the estates small cottages. Elisa sent Fanny to teach the Mistress how to be a seamstress so she could earn her keep. It was recorded in the family chronicles that her first order of business was taking some of her own stunning gowns that the Mistress had left behind at Staghurst and altering them to fit Elisa and Maggie to be worn by the ladies at various functions.

 

Sadly, Maggie’s scratches on her cheeks became infected and left her with some rather nasty scarring. Elisa brought the poor creature into Staghurst to be her companion. It is not chronicled whom Maggie eventually wed, but it was recorded in the Staghurst manor’s archives that one of Maggie’s daughters married a younger son of Lord Errol’s. A bloodline that carried the title of the house of Staghurst into modern times.

 

As for Staghurst itself, the great house still looms, standing in commanding atonement! But times have changed, and like so many great estates of the day, the majority of the manor has been re-envisioned into a rather upscale overnight, run by the current Lord and his family, direct descendants of Errol and Elisa.

 

As for the Assault and Robbery, no one was ever caught and punished. But one can imagine, without naming names, that those who had a hand in obtaining the small fortune acquired, soon found their positions in life elevated, and one can always hope that some good came of it…

  

The pub mentiond, The Poet and the Peasant, is the name of an actual welsh pub, and the 400 year old building it is located in has been the site of many drinking establishments over the years. Although its part in this story is fictional, one who has been there can well imagine that if its darkened and smoky walls and chambers could talk, therein would lay many tales, both rude and glorious.

 

Yesterday took place at the castle the medieval festival

a fantastic day orchestrated by talented Djs, Dj Bettina, Dj Lully and Dj Marie Louise, all revisited on the theme of medieval music and costumes

My unlit magnifying lamp with the lit Christmas stars behind. I usually plump for colour, but there was very little to start with in this shot, and it was mostly dull yellow from the stars. It's fun orchestrating a photoshoot with the things you have, especially when you are late for the assignment!

Eight strangers stand at a nondescript railway platform on an unremarkable weekday afternoon. As their train is delayed further, they put down their crumpled Metros, pocket their bleeping smartphones – and begin to share their secrets, hopes and fears. A musical snapshot of modern Britain by Cameron Mackintosh award-winning duo, Joe Bunce and Matthew Malone. Commendation for Musicianship (NSDF). 'Astonishingly inventive … Witty and evocative' (Sunday Times). 'Departures shines like a jewel' (BroadwayBaby.com). 'Well-realised and beautifully orchestrated' ★★★★★ (KettleMag.co.uk). ★★★★★ (BoxDust.com). 'This is what the Edinburgh Fringe is all about' ★★★★★ (EdinburghGuide.com).

Deep inside a secret mountain in Sweden lies the old gunpowder factory in complete darkness. It has big halls, offices, laboratory, tanks and machines slowly rusting apart. The factory secretly produced gunpowder used in ammunition for the Swedish military from 1940 to 1945.

 

Epic urbex weekend with OlavXO and Juha H.

 

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SUNRISE - Public Beach - Atlantic Ocean Inlet

Saint Augustine, Florida U.S.A. - July 4th, 2024

 

----------Independence Day 2024----------U.S.A.!

 

A few weeks before the Olympics in France - Human Interest

(a local was beautifully orchestrating a 6:30 AM photo shoot)

 

Vilano Beach - Atlantic Ocean - First Light - pinkish - 7/4/24

Choppy Sea - Sunrise Drama at the Inlet - Summer 2024

4th of July Holiday - Northern Florida - The Treasure Coast

 

*[left-double-click for a closer-look - a very cool beach-studio!]

 

*[Patriotic! - two models - dramatic-dawn - lights - flags - boots!]

 

*[inlet jetty - dramatic dawn light - jetty rocks - pools reflections]

 

*[Atlantic Ocean - warm-morning-light - very active ocean-inlet]

 

*[Start of the Day - Gorgeous Day - Independance Day 2024]

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Augustine_Light

 

factoidz.com/beautiful-lighthouses-in-florida-are-great-t...

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bridge_of_Lions

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bascule_bridge

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._augustine_florida

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matanzas_River

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castillo_de_San_Marcos

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Johns_County,_Florida

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flagler_College

MuCEM + Fort Saint-Jean, Marseille, France - 2013 -Architects: Rudy Ricciotti and C+T architecture

Views, sea, sun, a mineral quality, which all must be orchestrated by a program that will become federal and cognitive. First of all a perfect square of 72 m per side, it is a classic plan, Latin, under the control of Pythagoras. Within this square, another of 52 m per side, comprising the exhibition and conference halls identified as the heart of the museum.

Around, above and below are the service areas. But between these areas and the heart, openings entirely bypass the central square and form interconnected spaces. More interested by the views of the fort, the sea or the port, the culturally overwhelmed visitor will choose this route. Along two interlacing ramps, he will then plunge into the imaginary of the tower of Babel or of a ziggurat in order to climb up to the rooftop and on to Fort Saint- Jean. This peripheral loop will be a free breathe, enveloped by the smells of the sea from the proximity to the moats, a pause to dispel any lingering doubts about the use of the history of our civilizations. The MuCEM will be a vertical Casbah.

The tectonic choice of an exceptional concrete coming from the latest research by French industry, reducing the dimensions to little more than skin and bones, will affirm a mineral script under the high ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean. This sole material in the colour of dust, matt, crushed by the light, distant from the brilliance and technological consumerism, will commend the dense and the delicate. The MuCEM sees itself evanescent in a landscape of stone and Orientalist through its fanning shadows.

 

Twenty-five brand new Enviro 400 MMC vehicles will enter traffic at Folkestone and Hastings on the Wave group of routes on Monday 5th December prompting a carefully orchestrated cascade the same weekend will allow the withdrawal of all non-DDA fleet members meaning the end of the use of the former Manchester Magicbus Tridents.

 

Pictured here in its last few weeks in service and wearing slightly more of its former "Magic bus" logos than other members transferred south, Stagecoach South East 17656 V156 DFT is seen parked up at Dover Pencester Road shortly before working route 89 to Canterbury. Saturday 19th November 2016.

 

Dennis Trident - Alexander ALX400 (Ex-Stagecoach Manchester - Magicbus)

"It can't be planned, predicted or orchestrated - just recognize for what it is and fully

Twenty-five brand new Enviro 400 MMC vehicles will enter traffic at Folkestone and Hastings on the Wave group of routes on Monday 5th December prompting a carefully orchestrated cascade the same weekend will allow the withdrawal of all non-DDA fleet members meaning the end of the use of the former Manchester Magicbus Tridents.

 

Pictured here in its last few weeks in service and wearing slightly more of its former "Magic bus" logos than other members transferred south, Stagecoach South East 17656 V156 DFT is seen turning out of St Johns Road and into Milner Road, Elvington whilst working route 89. Saturday 19th November 2016.

 

Dennis Trident - Alexander ALX400 (Ex-Stagecoach Manchester - Magicbus)