View allAll Photos Tagged pathos
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If anyone is missing an astronaut suit, don't worry, I borrowed it temporarily. I just wanted to see what my co-workers would do if I showed up to work wearing it and pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. At first little Timmy in Finance was a bit intimidated when I showed up asking for the quarterly reports. He just stared at me from the corner of his eye and pretended I was not there, but after a few minutes passed in silence, he handed them over. See, everyone trusts a man in a space suit.
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Another sunset shot at San Gregorio Beach during the photowalk led by Jay Patel and Varina Patel . This one reminded me of an ink blot. What do you see?
Inflatable sex dolls in a swimming pool, Westdene, Johannesburg, South Africa. Gently moving in the current of the swimming pool pump, these dolls had a pathos together which I struggled to capture in these photographs.
[G] Tony Sweater Legacy/Pathos Dark Blue Jeans Pants Legacy Boots Version/Pathos Dark Blue Jeans Pants Legacy Boots Version/
*Angel's Designs * Onix (Omega Applier)
BLASPHEMIC Nathalie! -plain black- Ankle Boots
*C:K* Passionate Lover Eyes - Yellow
**NOYA** Face Make Up Combination (smokey+lipgloss1) (put on 2nd)
Essences - Hangover Lipstick 07 (put on 1st)
Pathos Maitreya Lucie Nails
.ploom. Henna (small) - Candy
7 Deadly s{K}ins - September 2015 GIRLS skin v1 NOcleavage (marshmallow)
“He Shouted His Harsh Pathos at a Wild and Lonely Wind, but There Was No Response” ca. 1900
Frederic Remington, American, 1861-1909
Today, We're Here! virtually visiting the Wild West.
I recently visited the Chrysler Museum to see an exhibition of Western art. Today I processed three of the images that I was most impressed by. Each represents some American artist's vision of Native American life, however biased and romanticized or however realistic or impressionistic that vision might be.
Inflatable sex dolls in a swimming pool, Westdene, Johannesburg, South Africa. Gently moving in the current of the swimming pool pump, these dolls had a pathos together which I struggled to capture in these photographs.
110 Bell B206L-3 Long Ranger III (51148) Cyprus Air Force - Andreas Papandreou Airbase , Pathos International Airport Cyprus 08-11-2019
Fragments of an Equestrian statue of Nero
These fragments of an equestrian statue probably represent Nero. The execution tinged with a certain pathos reflects a sensibility that was different to that of the classical-style portraits of the Julio-Claudian family. It also reveals the origins of the work, which was found in Asia Minor, as well as the absolutist tendencies of the reign of Nero, who craved an imperial role like that of the Hellenistic monarchs.
Description
Fragments of an equestrian statue
The equestrian group was a mode of representation created in Greece and adopted in Rome. Equestrian statues of the emperor emphasized his role as commander-in-chief of the armies. The Louvre holds fragments of a large statue of this type.
The left arm, lost below the biceps, was cast separately and was probably fitted into some sculpted drapery. The left hand held the reins. The work is executed in a naturalistic manner; the artist paid special attention to the rendering of the muscles and veins. The head with its fleshy proportions is turned to the left. Thick hair with full, wavy locks tops a face whose eyes and parted lips impart a highly expressive appearance and a rather brutal sensuality.
A vestige of the damnatio memoriae
The identity of the figure represented in this work has been disputed. The particular arrangement of the slighly parted bangs favors the hypothesis that it is a prince of the Julio-Claudian family. There is general agreement on the name of Nero, by comparison with coin portraits, though on the coins he does not wear this hair style. Further comparison with other portraits of the sovereign would enable this probable identity to be confirmed; but Nero's excesses led the Senate, after his suicide in AD 68, to condemn his portraits to "damnatio memoriae," that is, to destruction and oblivion. Therefore, only a few remnants remain of the images of this emperor - some portraits of him as a child, and statues saved from destruction by their geographical distance (perhaps the case of these fragments found in Turkey).
Memory of the Hellenistic kings
This portrait marks a break with the classical-style treatment of Julio-Claudian works. The face remains idealized, but with a note of pathos foreign to Augustian moderation: on the contrary, the sharp movement of the head, the movement in the hair and the facial expressiveness hark back to the traditional Hellenistic royal portrait.
These stylistic elements, which reflect an enduring baroque sensibility in Asia Minor, are well suited to a representation of Nero, whose political ideology they highlight. Fascinated by Greek civilization, the prince sought to infuse the role of emperor with the absolutism of the Hellenistic monarchies.
educational use only
Humor, pathos, slogans, girls, cartoons, nicknames, hometowns, girls, patriotism, dishing it to the enemy, warriors, girls, youthful bravado, girls...these transcended nationality as both Allies and Axis pilots went to war in their individually marked chariots. Men at war separated from home, family, loved ones and a familiar way of life sought ways to personalize and escape the very harsh business surrounding them. For the most part they thought about women, represented on the sides of aircraft in the most tender of ways to the most degrading. These men spent many hours longing for the tenderness a woman could bring to their lives...and for the sexual pleasure they could provide. Whether top level commanders ordered it off the aircraft or not, the men let their feelings flow onto their machines.
This Art on a Lockheed C-60 Lodestar:
The C-60 is a twin-engine transport based on the Lockheed Model 18 Lodestar. During World War II, the Army Air Forces used the aircraft for training and for transporting personnel and freight. First flown in 1940, the Model 18 was originally designed as a successor to the Lockheed Model 14 and the earlier Model 10 Electra. The Army began ordering military versions of the Model 18 in May 1941. Depending upon engines and interior configuration, these transports were given C-56, C-57, C-59 or C-60 basic type designations. Lockheed built more C-60As for the AAF (325) than any other version of the military Lodestar.
After the war, many military Lodestars were declared surplus and sold to private operators for use as cargo or executive transports. The C-60A on display was flown to the museum in 1981.
TECHNICAL NOTES:
Armament: None
Engines: Two Wright R-1820-87s of 1,200 hp each
Crew: Four (plus 17 passengers)
Maximum speed: 257 mph
Cruising speed: 232 mph
Range: 1,700 miles
Service ceiling: 25,000 ft.
Span: 65 ft. 6 in.
Length: 49 ft. 10 in.
Height: 11 ft. 1 in.
Weight: 18,500 lbs. maximum
Serial number: 43-16445
The Kiss by Rodin seen in Tate Modern:
www.tate.org.uk/servlet/ViewWork?workid=12718
For another depiction of the same couple (Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini of Dante's Inferno) see Ary Sceffer's great painting here.
I know its technical quality is lousy, but this has always been one of my favourite photographs ...my crème de la crème. For me it is laden with the tragic beauty of its subject and with the pathos, not so much of lost youth, but of the lost intensity of youthful experience.
By early 1968 (this narrative continues from the previous photograph) I had managed to save enough money for a trip to Manchester. I was 17 and had never ventured so far from home before. It must be borne in mind that in those days, before the motorway system had properly taken shape, communication between the various regions of England was not the casual affair it has since become. Manchester seemed impossibly distant and I imagined it would be necessary to travel overnight. Eschewing my bed, I left Bristol at 1.10am on Saturday 13th January in one of the ordinary carriages attached to the Glasgow sleeper. It had been snowing. There was a wait of nearly two hours for a connection at Birmingham and another shorter one at Stafford, where a porter reached in and shook me awake.
I continued north through snowy Cheshire on one of the rather stylish AM10 25kV emus, then only a year or two old. We began to come into Manchester. As we slowly screeched and swayed over the points we came alongside and began to overtake a slow-moving goods train. Suddenly, in the gaps between the wagons, I saw long lines of simmering black steam locomotives outside a shed ...Stockport. I involuntarily gasped and sprang up (luckily there were no other passengers in the vicinity to witness my eccentric behaviour) but, exasperatingly, there were only split-second glimpses between the trucks. As we came alongside the front of the slow-moving goods train I suddenly found myself staring at the side of a locomotive tender. There was a quick sight of the driver and fireman and the orange flames of the fire, then the long boiler slid past the window. I heard hissing and the chugs of the exhaust. I scrabbled frantically at the window latch but couldn't get my head out. Just beyond Stockport Station another line passed beneath the main line at right angles. As we passed over I looked down and saw another steam-hauled goods train. Clearly steam retained a considerable presence here.
Once arrived, I walked from Piccadilly Station to Oxford Road and caught a train to Old Trafford. I walked around the outside of Manchester United's stadium and out into an expanse of snowy wasteground where dead locomotives were lined up on sidings ready to be taken away for scrap. Beyond was the looming shape of Trafford Park shed. Between two small brick buildings I saw a simmering locomotive standing in the yard. This scene has always been etched on my memory. What made it so indelible was, I think, the lovely colouration, made more beautiful by the leaden sky, the slight fog and the eerie lightless glare of the snow. The bricks of the little buildings looked curiously pink, and the locomotive brown rather than the expected black.
I approached carefully, expecting to be thrown out as soon as I was detected. I walked between the buildings and immediately took this photograph. It might be the only one I got. But I was not hindered at all and walked around unchallenged. By this stage I think shed staff had probably given up as a bad job the attempt to prevent trespassing in steam sheds. Pictorially I like the photo for the strong natural "lead-in" lines of the sleepers, lamps and water cranes. I also like the steam creeping along the cab roof and the way the smoke is "exhaling" from the funnel. Alas, this was about the only good photograph I took all day. The light got worse and worse, and my camera wasn't up to it.
Another abiding memory of that occasion. As I walked back, I stopped halfway across the wasteground to pee (well, it was a cold day). As I stood in the thickening fog, I watched a Stanier 8F being turned on a turntable. It was a Whistlerian essay in greys and white.
The Tombs of the Kings is a large necropolis lying about two kilometres north of Paphos harbour in Cyprus. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The underground tombs, many of which date back to the 4th century BC, are carved out of solid rock, and are thought to have been the burial sites of Paphitic aristocrats and high officials up to the third century AD (the name comes from the magnificence of the tombs; no kings were in fact buried here). Some of the tombs feature Doric columns and frescoed walls. Archaeological excavations are still being carried out at the site. The tombs are cut into the native rock, and at times imitated the houses of the living.
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Rodin, Rodin, you were a very talented and creepy man. I wonder if we would have been friends had we lived in the same time? But, I heard you were a bit harsh with Camille Claudel because you were jealous of her talents ... that was not cool. Either way, you made some great pieces of art, and my particular favorite is La Porte de l'Enfer also know as The Gates of Hell. I found this particular depiction of Dante's "Inferno" at Stanford's Cantor Arts Center.
When you see it from a distance it looks intriguing, and as you get closer and you start to make out more of the details and you get a deep gripping sense that something profound is being conveyed and before you know it you are caught in the sheer gravity of the scene. At first you are horrified at the wretched bronze portrayals of the human state, but there is something appealing that keeps you staring. It takes a few moments of quiet contemplation, but there is a bit of an inflection point when it ceases to frighten you and then becomes a thing of beauty. It is hard to explain unless you have stood in front of it, but that is why I chose to process the picture in a way that would make it look like some sort of discarded relic that you would find in a forgotten corner of heaven.
Caution: Do not listen to "Summer Overture" by Clint Mansell & Kronos Quartet while looking at this photo ... way too eerie.
( Day's Break*ing . . Chasing(the)Light/Night . . Day*Break .. . )
Un*Latch the Light . * * . . (**).
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Everywhere I seem to travel, there is the Buddha. Maybe because I tend to travel in Asia a bunch, but that is besides the point. A few years ago, one of my co-workers gave me a tiny Buddha travel companion which I took everywhere. About a year ago my one year old daughter found it among my travel gear. She picked it out, looked at it, and then gave it a gentle kiss. =) Interesting ...