View allAll Photos Tagged pathos
Digital Photography: Still Images Of Moving Water
Nowadays, we see lot of businesses provide their service online. Therefore far more need arise for the sites which are and built to trade. A good looking website might achieve the objective of delivering and shaping the strong brand.
The basics...
www.premayogan.com/blog/digital-photography-still-images-...
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In late February the weather man was talking crazy about how it was going to snow in San Francisco. I was like, "This is madness", and the weather man was like, "This is Sparta!". Even though I didn't believe him, I could not pass up the chance that by some fluke there would actually be snow in the city of fog, so I called up a friend and we met up in the city at six in the morning to see if we could get some nice pictures or snow-covered San Francisco.
As you can see in this picture of the city from Dolores Park, the weather man had lied to us once again. Not only was there no snow, there was zero precipitation. Ice Man couldn't turn a snow cone in this weather. There were only two tiny, feeble-looking clouds hanging low on the horizon. I guess the weather man thought these two scary storm clouds would somehow produce enough snow to blanket the city. Weather men seem to be optimistic gamblers. Can you imagine the damage they would do to their life savings if they were let loose upon Las Vegas?
At least I was able to get this cool shot of San Francisco waking up. I hold no grudge weather man, I know it is tough having to guess what mother nature is going to do from day to day. Just stop pretending it is some sort of science.
Weather Man = 1
Christian = 0
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Ok, I will be honest with you. I had a complete and utter lack of inspiration today so here is a random picture of a gnome fixing a clock. The unsettling thing is this was taken at a kid's winter play land ... "Christmas at the Park" in downtown San Jose. Sleep tight.
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I met this cool little kid in the mountain town of Dazhai near the Longji rice terraces. During my short stay there he became my little shadow and would go around leaving mischief in his wake. He was very curious about my camera which gave me plenty of opportunities to photograph him in his natural state. There was something very innocent about his humble farming life that I wanted to accentuate through this picture.
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It was my second day in the mountain village of Dazhai and I had very quickly gotten used to randomly walking into houses with none of the usual pesky repercussions (such as being thrown in jail or chased away with a cleaver). This particular house was owned by the Tofu Man. When my guide, Bart, and I walked in we just made our way through the massive three-story wooden house into one of the smaller rooms where Tofu Man was already hard at work cooking the tofu.
He had been expecting us, and when we entered the steam-filled room, he beckoned us to sit down on the tiny wooden stools next to the little fire pit. I sat down and he looked at me with all seriousness and suddenly burst out a mad cackle before going back to work. The light from the fire danced on his face as he intently stirred the pot, looking like a mad scientist working on his Franken-fu. When he was done cooking, he took the pot into another room and poured the content into a large white mesh and hand-strained the water out of the tofu until it was a solid white mass. When it was all done, he produced a bowl out of one of his pockets, looked at it inquisitively and decided it was clean enough for this interloper and served me up some yummy tofu. Mmmm.
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I have always been fond of traveling and want to make sure that my children not only have the opportunity, but also the desire to see how people around the world have adapted to live their lives. When my daughter was a wee three months old we flew to Hawaii to visit relatives and give the baby her first taste of living off the fat of the land. My wife had spent many summers there and she told me about a Buddhist temple in the Honolulu mountain tops where anyone is welcome to visit and join their weekly meditation jams.
We arrived fashionably late and I had to sprint up the stairs and into the hall, making for an interesting time as the monk was instructing everyone to focus on their ever slowing breaths. I used to meditate regularly so it didn’t take me long to calm down and slide into Lala Land. I will go into more specifics on the actual meditation session in a later post, but after it was done I met up with my family outside as the sun was setting.
We spent a few minutes walking around and I kept looking for interesting things to take pictures of when I saw a restricted-looking section of the temple that caught my interest. There is something about restricted access that makes you want to go in even more, right? Well, I was in the middle of planning out my trespass strategy when a monk walked up to me seemingly from no where. I looked at his face and it was clear that he knew exactly what I was up to. His calm and friendly gaze held a very powerful sense of knowing that made me feel somewhat transparent and defenseless. I introduced myself and he did the same but I did not quite catch his name. I thought he said it was “Whoameye” but he kept looking at me and saying it over and again. I finally realized that he was actually asking me, “Who am I?” I was a bit confused by his question so I just repeated it and he said, “Exactly, this is what you should ask yourself every day.” He proceeded to tell us how important it is to keep asking this question of yourself and gradually peel away the layers of what you think you are to get closer and closer to the core. “Am I, what I wear? No. Am I what I feel or think? No. Keep asking, keep going … ”
He then told us that he was on his way to the main temple to do his daily prayer and asked if we would accompany him. I was ecstatic! We followed him to this great temple with elaborate ceilings, wooden floors, candles and a Buddha shrine, and sat down along the wall while he began to pray. I was expecting a contemplative moment of silence but instead he began to chant. Buddhist chanting is basically a rhythmic vocalization of prayer and although I did not understand the actual words, I understood the feeling of devotion in what he was singing. When he was done, he came over to my wife and asked our daughter’s name. He then said, “She is 98 days old, right?” He was only two days off … she was exactly 96 days old at the time. He said he wanted to dedicate a prayer to her and then he went back and stood in front of Buddha and began another chant. After he was done, he came to us and looked at our little girl and said, “She is very blessed and will have no hardships in this life.” Thank you, Whoameye! =)
About This Photo
I did not have the proper lens on my camera for the low light conditions inside the temple and I was shooting hand held so the photo had a bit of noise. The colors were warm and interesting, but I decided to process this in black and white because it took care of most of the noise problem and also gave it some nice contrast and definition. I also like the timeless feel of black and white photography and feel that it lends itself to this photo.
There's a special pathos involved with small markers. It's so easy to envision the grieving father shaping the concrete block himself and carving this heartbreaking message into the wet surface. Tragedy, all to common, yet more easily understood on such a personal scale. Middleham Chapel Cemetery, Lusby, Maryland.
As a society, we are trained to value the new over the old; the improved over the ordinary. A bigger house. A car with side-curtain airbags, run-flat tires, and a not-at-all-soothing voice that tells us we've missed our exit. A razor with one more blade than the previous model. A perkier trophy wife. It's human nature. We slough off our old possessions like dead skin; demolish old buildings to put up condos; put our news anchors out to pasture in favor of younger, more attractive faces; and look for other planets to colonize when we're tired of the old ones.
Of course, once we do move on, someone will inevitably sweep in and fix up Earth. It'll become a classic—a restored antique. With perfect blue skies, lush forests, gleaming skyscrapers. But it won't be the same; it'll be a showpiece, like Colonial Williamsburg, or Pamela Anderson. Just a spot for tourists to pretend they're back on old Earth for a few days, until something better comes along. Like Venusland. Or the Pirates of Mars ride. And one day we will all be replaced by new models—built by our robot overlords—and I imagine they'll have the same problem. They'll probably rise up against the robots and replace them with new and improved robot overlords. Nicer ones. With side-airbags and one more blade than the old model.
7 Deadly s{K}ins - September 2015 Girls Skin V1 NOCleavage (Marshmallow)
[AdN] Beauty Dreams (100% Mesh)
.ploom. Tina (small) - Colors (certain parts tinted to match dress)
Curious Kitties Passionate Lovers Eyes - Green
!!BHB!! Abigail Night Life Blade Heels resizable
Pathos Maitreya Glitter nails
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I met this old man during my trek through the mountain town of Dazhai, China. My guide, Bart, and I were making our way back from the rice terraces when he recognized one of the old wooden houses built on the side of one of the mountains. He asked if I wanted to meet a very old man and I excitedly said yes. We knocked on the old weathered door and someone let us in. After a couple of minutes this old man came out wearing a wide toothless-smile and holding a tobacco pipe which he proceeded to light. He looked so frail but he moved about with a sense of purpose that beguiled his old age. I don’t speak Chinese so I did not even bother talking but sometimes you can understand so much by simply observing. I gave him the international sign for “Can I take your picture?” and he nodded yes, so I pretended to capture the essence of his life for a few moments.
Can you imagine what it must be like to live to be ninety years old? To go through a transition of boundless energy and relevance to becoming sedentary and potentially forgotten? You would have lived and loved, served and fought, and made innumerable impressions on other lives. It would afford you with the depth of experience and clarity of vision to look back and divine the things of real worth. From that vantage point you may caution those just starting the journey to be more diligent about their interactions and to take care for the relations they make along the way. I guess we can only hope that the passage of time be kind to us and leave us with the type of memories and experiences that enrich our existence.
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According to folklore (and sci-fi nuts), Trolls are supposed to live under bridges. That got me thinking … would they also make their homes under freeways? Well, there was only one way to find out. I found the first freeway underpass I could and searched high and low, but alas, there was not a single Troll in sight. I mean, there were some rats and roaches, but nothing larger than a small dog. Maybe they are shy, or maybe they prefer the comfort of a nice wooden bridge, but either way, I can assure you that freeway underpasses are Troll free. You are welcome.
Pathos, inhabited since neolithic times its Roman mosaics are considered among the most beautiful in the world. They include:
The House of Dionysos, dating back to the 2nd century A.D. The house is named “House of Dionysos” thanks to the many depictions of Dionysos, the god of wine.
The House of Theseus, also 2nd century, geometrical decorations as well as mythological representations.
The House of Aion, dating back to the 4th century, Five mythological scenes: "The bath of Dionysus", "Leda and the Swan", "Beauty contest between Cassiopeia and the Nereids", "Apollo and Marsyas", and the "Triumphant procession of Dionysus".
The House of Orpheus
Dating back to the 3rd century A.D Three mythological representations worth seeing, “ Orpheus and his Lyre”, “ Hercules and the Lion of Nemea” and “the Amazon”.
The House of Four Seasons
This house lies north of the House of Orpheus. It was named after the mosaic that represents the personification of the four seasons, which dates back to the first half of the third century A.D.
I decided to take these because i've been having a tough time lately, and i wanted to depict my state through photos. I probably took them around 1am - 3am