Demeures de l'esprit / Places of the Mind
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Another dig in the archives. I remember this day at Spoon Bay, looking towards Wamberal Beach in the distance. There was a magical red sunset but the bushfires were quite bad this season, so the sky was also filled with smoke.
I recall the words of that famous old philosopher Yoda ... On a beach, you are. Fire smoke on the horizon, there is. On the beach, stay.
Very wise Yoda, he was. Happy Wednesday out there, may your skies not be filled with smoke.
Do you feel what I feel?
See what I see, hear what I hear?
There is a line you must draw
Between your dream world and reality
Do you live my life or share the breath I breathe?
Lies feed your judgement of others
Behold how the blind lead each other
The philosopher
You know so much about nothing at all
Ideas that fall under shadows of theories that stand tall
Thoughts that grow narrow upon being verbally released
Your mind is not your own
What sounds more mentally stimulating
Is how you make your choice
So you preach about how I'm supposed to be
Yet you don't know your own sexuality
Lies feed your judgement of others
Behold how the blind lead each other
The philosopher
You know so much about nothing at all
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8256VJ4hkJU
[Song- The Philosopher by Death, off 1993 album ' Individual Thought Patterns']
Taken at Sunny's Photo Studio maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Sunny%20Photo%20Studio/128...
backdrop - Effects
I've never been very much on making plans and setting goals. Oh... sure... I've made them and set them in the past. But I never follow through so... what the heck's the point? Plus, I've found that happenstance is frequently my friend so... I'm pretty much content to just let life happen.
It's funny thinking back on all the many things I thought I wanted, and wanted to be, growing up... all the different jobs and professions I considered... not to mention the days I cursed the simple fact of having choices. In my mother's day, things were simpler, I thought. If you chose to do something other than raise kids and/or look after some man, your choices were relatively limited - the conventional ones being nurse, teacher, nun.
By the time I was on the scene, everything had changed. My parents told me constantly that I could be and do absolutely anything I wanted. Nice. But also... aacck... highly pressurized. Anything? Geez. You mean I have to choose from an infinite number of options? It was pretty overwhelming, especially since the things to which I naturally gravitated all seemed problematic.
I wanted to be a poet. My mom said: impractical.
I wanted to be a philosopher. My parents assured me: not at all viable if you want to eat on a regular basis.
Then I wanted to be a vet. Until I learned about medical school and the long taxing hours that would have to be got through.
At one point, I honestly thought I'd want to do AI - artificial insemination. It seemed rather "vet lite"... and the AI guys who came to our farm to inseminate our cows seemed to have a pretty spiffy life... driving around the countryside with a trunk full of frozen semen, putting on the long glove and reaching way inside a beast... bringing together the first two key ingredients in a brand new life... and then driving on to do the same thing somewhere else.
Then I got older and lazier. I started assessing career options based on the length and complexity of the required preparation. Interior designer, I thought at one point. I figured I could be done with the training and working and supporting myself well before my 20th birthday. Then I took a related course in high school. Ha-a-a-ted it. And decided to just chuck the whole career idea entirely.
Most of what's happened since has been accidental. Or coincidental. Or whatever you want to call it.
It may be sad from a certain perspective, but many of the major changes in my life were precipitated, over the years, by partnerships with men.
I took my first radio job - not because I loved the work, but because it would bring me closer to my then-boyfriend.
Years later, I moved to The Big City and took a job there to be with another boyfriend.
Ultimately, I left radio entirely and moved here, to the Island, to be with Husband Mike. And I'm certainly not complaining; it's all worked out.
So I wasn't at all surprised when I saw this pic. It was completely unintentional... but I love what resulted. This was from Friday, when I was gearing up for the knife shot. My dear little fuzzy friend was nearby, as always. I'd already triggered the shutter... on a timer... when she walked into the shot and sat there looking at me... all ears and quizzical eyes. I started laughing... and she turned to face the camera just as it clicked.
Anyway... like I said... I'm a fan of happenstance. So this is my little tribute to it.
And really... what's better than going through life knowing that you never know - and can't know - what great thing will happen next?? Bring it on.
I have a problem for every solution :-)
Robert Zend
HBW!!
acer, dwarf Japanese maple, 'Kamagata', j c raulston arboretum, ncsu, Raleigh, north carolina
The Greek philosopher Metrodorus.
In the background can be seen the bust of Polemon (Πολέμων), a master of rhetoric, favored by several Roman Emperors.
National Archaeological Museum of Athens. Athens, Greece.
Parian marble. Found in Athens. Metrodorus of Lampsacus in Asia Minor (c. 331 – 278 B.C.) was a pupil and friend of the philosopher Epicurus. The bust is a copy dating from the period of Hadrian (A.D. 117-138) of a Hellenistic original dated probably 280-250 B.C.
Metrodorus of Lampsacus (Μητρόδωρος ο Λαμψακηνός) was one of the four καθηγεμόνες (‘founders’) of Epicureanism, and the most important after Epicurus; Epicurus dedicated to him his Eurylochus and his Metrodorus, besides writing letters to him and mentioning him often in his works. Philodemus, a Greek poet and Epicurean philosopher who did much to spread Epicureanism to Rome, cites Metrodorus as the author of the view that Cynic poverty was to be rejected in favour of a more affluent way of life, although wealth in no way contributes to happiness.
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“It’s not necessary to try to save Greece or to get from her crowns of wisdom; what is needed is to eat and to drink, Timocrates, without harming the belly while we bring it joy”. – Metrodorus’ Epistle to Timocrates.
“As you grow old you are such as I urge you to be, and you have recognized the difference between studying philosophy for yourself and studying it for Greece. I rejoice with you”. – Vatican Saying 76
“Besides, they would not buy for a penny the lot of all the virtues (if they’re) cut off from pleasure”. – Metrodorus’ Epistle to Timocrates.
Philosophers path in Heidelberg
View of the old town of Heidelberg
Blick auf die Altstadt von Heidelberg
We have been and about today looking for suitable Oilseed Rape subject matters and the tower seemed a good place to start.
The folly was built in around 1700, by the 3rd Earl of Shaftesbury who was a noted philosopher. It is thought that he did a lot of his philosophising in this tower, and from this suggestion it has become known as the Philosopher's Tower. We also visited a nearby barn which seems to have become a celebrity on Flickr as I have seen quite a few shots of it after doing a Flickr search and at least one of my contacts photographed it today too!
© This photograph is copyrighted. Under no circumstances can it be reproduced, distributed, modified, copied, posted to websites or printed or published in media or other medium or used for commercial or other uses without the prior written consent and permission of the photographer
my sister's dog, Lula , seems to be contemplating the mysteries of the universe......or maybe she is just wondering why dinner is late :-)))))
happy TGIF :-)
Un soir, en allant m'occuper du Monsieur Chat de mon meilleur ami (en attendant son retour donc), le ciel se pare de nombreuses et somptueuses couleurs : des rouges, des oranges, des jaunes, des bleus, des roses... et des violets !
En passant du côté du Lycée Alain, le moment me semble particulièrement adapté à une photo, en passant (justement)...
La circulation aura le bon goût de n'être pas trop envahissante malgré l'heure de pointe qui se termine et cet axe qui est assez passant...
Perched on a wooden rail with its tail curled like a question mark, this squirrel stares into the middle distance, pondering life’s deepest mysteries:
- Where did I bury that acorn?
- Why do humans wear pants?
- Is the fence real, or just a metaphor?
Captured in glorious detail, this furry existentialist radiates the energy of someone who’s about to start a podcast called “Nuts & Thoughts.” The background blurs, the fur pops, and the vibe?
Pure woodland wisdom meets backyard drama.
Some say it’s waiting for a snack. Others believe it’s silently judging your camera settings. But one thing’s for sure, this squirrel didn’t come to play. It came to reflect, reject, and possibly redirect your entire life path.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
The human understanding is like a false mirror, which, receiving rays irregularly, distorts and discolors the nature of things by mingling its own nature with it”
Francis Bacon, Sr. (English Lawyer and Philosopher. 1561-1626)
Back from our wonderful visit to Tasmania's west coast wilderness, southern Tarkine and Corinna rain forest.
(english follow)
GÉNÉRATION
En hommage à Florence, ma petite-fille, qui m’a spontanément proposé le titre de cette image.
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Sur ces rivages bordés d’infini, un père initie son jeune fils à l’art de la pêche en eau peu profonde. Au premier abord, on pourrait croire qu’il s’agit d’une simple scène de pêche, pourtant…
Dans nos sociétés, l’idée de génération est souvent réduite à une opposition statique entre le passé et l’avenir, entre l’ancien et le nouveau. Je crois plutôt qu’il faut y voir un mouvement, un mouvement continu de transmission et d’évolution des connaissances et des mentalités humaines. En somme, cette transmission, notamment par la filiation, permets à l’originel de rester original et de poursuivre l’aventure humaine. * Ce que nous appelons « l’avenir » est, en fait, le résultat de l’interaction et de la transmission par toutes les générations. **
_________
Ici, sur ces rivages bien en retrait des mondes utopiques qui alimentent la fureur de nos sociétés, le père et le fils renouent avec la patience et la modestie fondamentale de l’existence des êtres. Et aussi avec l’enchantement originel devant la beauté et le mystère de notre monde.
La pêche aura été un bon prétexte pour cela.
Patrice
* Charles Coutel, philosophe français.
** Tim Inglold, anthropologue britannique
_______________________________
GENERATION
In honor of Florence, my granddaughter, who spontaneously suggested the title of this image.
__________
On these shores bordered by infinity, a father introduces his young son to the art of shallow-water fishing. At first glance, one might think this is a simple fishing scene, yet...
In our societies, the idea of generation is often reduced to a static opposition between past and future, between old and new. Instead, it should be seen as a movement, a continuous movement of transfer and evolution of knowledge and human mentalities. In short, this transfer, particularly through filiations (kinship), allows the original to remain original and to continue the human adventure.* What we call the future is, in fact, the result of all these generations interacting.
._________
Here, on these shores far removed from the utopian worlds that fuel the fury of our societies, father and son reconnect with the patience and fundamental modesty of being. Also with the original enchantment in front of the beauty and mystery of our world.
Fishing was a good excuse for this.
Patrice
* Charles Coutel, a French philosopher.
** Tim Ingold, British anthropologist.
* By NOMAD @ C88
www.flickr.com/photos/94096187@N06/54773252358/in/datepos...
_ Taken ? In progress .... ; ]
Poised on the rocks like it’s pondering the mysteries of the universe—or just wondering where all the fish went—this heron stares into the water with the intensity of a bird deep in thought. Its bluish-gray feathers ripple in the breeze, adding dramatic flair to an already theatrical pose. The little plant beside it? Probably its life coach. The ripples? Just nature’s way of saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie.” This full-color photo captures the quiet comedy of a bird who’s clearly overthinking everything.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections—though this one might be just for those who appreciate feathered introspection.
The mausoleum is to honour of the hero Pahlavon Mahmud, writer, philosopher and fighter who has become a patron saint of Chiwa. After the legend he helped the Indian ruler, and to recompense him, he asked what he wants as a present. He asked to release his fellow citizens in the prison so many as possible who could contain a cowhide. This was accepted, but he cut it in thin pieces to receive a very long belt which saved a big number of them.
The mausoleum comes from 1362, however, was rebuilt in 19. and in 1913 to be converted into the mausoleum of the Khan family. The room is in the Persian style with a turquoise-coloured dome in which the grave of the Khan Mohammed Rakhim is accommodated. In another space there is the tomb of Pahlavon Mahmud, decorates with tiles.
Illustration to poetry of Natalya Hrebionka devoted to Japan.
Paper, Ink 2021
The eyelids are heavy.
A thought-find has burst in,
Tearing the veil of sleep.
The rivers are dry.
But the fishing boat
Again is full of poems.
Life has changed its channel.
Only dreams of the past.
Became a piece of art
Forgotten ferry.
© Natalya Hrebionka, 2022
Тяжелы веки.
Ворвалась мысль-находка,
Порвав сна покров.
Высохли реки.
Но рыбацкая лодка
Вновь полна стихов.
Изменила жизнь русло.
Лишь сны о былом.
Стал предметом искусства
Забытый паром.
© Natalya Hrebionka 2022