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a rare, quiet and calm moment captured of caesar just a few moments ago..usually during the day he's so full of energy and just wants to play fetch with his soccer ball and while i got a bunch of shots of him trying to catch a ball in the backyard, those looked boring and plain to me. they show off his physical abilities but i wanted to show his softer, more gentle side.
it took a few minutes to get him to lay like this..the treat i had in my one hand initially made him even more excited but i waited it out and it paid off...if there's one thing this dog teaches me, it's patience. i do love him for that as well as the incredible companionship he provides us all.
technically, someone had asked me about my indoor shots and while i'm not really great at using my (external) flash..i have figured out that bouncing it over and behind my head works best..i shoot with the camera on manual as well as the flash, that way i can take a few test shots then adjust +/- a few stops if need be.
“Have faith.” 2 little words… But when said by those you love & trust, these very 2 little words go all about & around you, skittering, like mice looking for cheese. They search, retrieve & bring back to you that one burning amber of aspiration that you had so carefully hidden within yourself in a fit of rage & despair. And they produce it infront of you with such a flourish, its natural & alright to feel a little idiotic… ;)
Gm flickr.
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55-250 on 7D
It's not just the bears that get big in Alaska! This red squirrel weighs between 400-800 - grams that is. :-)
Thought that I would have a little fun with this one...
On our recent trip, we decided to take a jet boat ride out to the Knik Glacier. The Knik is one of the largest glaciers in SC AK, 28 mi long and 5 mi across. We had never visited there yet, so thought we would see it this year.
While we were there at the glacial camp, we could see a bear WAY up on a distance mountain, foraging on the vegetation. Other than that, we didn't really see too much, as we sat around and shared stories with our fellow tour passengers. They gave us hot chocolate and trail mix, which was really nice since it really was a cold and dreary afternoon.
At one point, as we sat at the camp, we heard a thunder, which could only mean one thing.... calving of the glacier. We all ran to see it. An iceberg split in half and revealed itself to us - the most beautiful color of blue ever (will share that photo on a later post). As we retreated to the camp area, we noticed that a thief had been in our area. It was our little red squirrel, who was none too shy and would allow me to get as close as I wanted to him.
I have to admit, when I looked at those beady eyes and his quick movements, I was a bit scared being all in it's face. LOL
Sometimes when visiting a state known for it's wildlife, you learn to take what you get, and so, I share this one with you all. But honestly, on our way to the tour headquarters cabin, we did see several moose crossing the road and numerous birds soaring overhead.
Thanks so much for your views and your comments!
Happy Hump Day!
Pose 'Flamingoed' available now Del May Mainstore
Outfit: LWL] the IT dress (Flamingo)
Hat: [LWL] Aviary Knit Hat (Flamingo)....... find them at Pure Juice
Hair: Epoque - Fear
Skin: Imabee - Adelle
Shoes: CheerNo Femme - Julia
Architect: József Vágó www.art-nouveau.hu/art.php?menuid=2&id=107
Cooperating artists were the greatest Hungarian painters and sculptors of the period:
József Rippl-Rónai
www.hung-art.hu/frames-e.html?/english/r/rippl-ro/index.html
commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=Special%3ASearch&...
Béla Iványi-Grünwald
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B%C3%A9la_Iv%C3%A1nyi-Gr%C3%BCnwald
hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iv%C3%A1nyi-Gr%C3%BCnwald_B%C3%A9la
Vilmos Fémes Beck
commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/F%C3%A9mes_Beck_Vilmos
hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/F%C3%A9mes_Beck_Vilmos
Zsolnay:
About the building, architect and owner:
www.sziabudapest.com/text/2011april_en.php
www.sziabudapest.com/text/vago_jozsef_en.php
Magyarul:
hg.hu/cikk/epiteszet/12623-a-szecesszio-elfelejtett-meste...
artportal.hu/kislexikon/vago_jozsef
Magyarul:
vam.gov.hu/muzeum/pages/schiffer_villa.html
There was a fountain in front of the window, work of Vilmos Fémes Beck, it was destroyed during WW2.
Stained glass windows by Károly Kernstok (Budapest, 1873 - 1940)
www.google.hu/search?q=kernstok+k%C3%A1roly&hl=hu&...
One of Hungary's most influential early twentieth century artists, Karoly Kernstok first studied painting techniques at the Budapest School of Design. He then went to Munich in 1892 to study under Simon Hollosy. Karoly Kernstok concluded his formal education at the Academie Julian, Paris, from 1893 to 1895 and at Benczur's School, Budapest, from 1896 to 1899. Kernstok's first major exhibitions took place in Budapest in 1897. Three years later one of his paintings was awarded a bronze medal at the Universal Exposition in the United States.
Karoly Kernstok's initial works were figure studies and genre depictions, largely in the vein of Hungarian turn-of-the-century early social realist painting. By 1906, however, his art began exploring stylized elements and postimpressionist techniques, and thus he became a leading exponent of modernism. In 1910, Karoly Kernstok was a founding member of the Nyolcak (Group of Eight) painters. Briefly this important movement advocated expressionism and an emphasis upon the body within space. It drew upon such divergent forms as Art Nouveau, Fauvism and native Hungarian art forms. The Nyolcak was also somewhat political and, through the art of its participants, attempted to move Habsburg Hungary toward a democratic republic. Karoly Kernstok's 1910 painting, Riders on the Shore, became a major catalyst for the art of Nyolcak (Group of Eight). During this period, Karoly Kernstok designed and painted major frescoes and glass windows for the Schiffer-villa (1911) and the County Hall, Debrecen.
Karoly Kernstok moved to Berlin in 1919. He both lived and exhibited in that city until his 1926 return to Hungary. For the following fourteen years the artist continued to paint and etch major works of art, often exploring and incorporating elements of ancient Etruscan art. As well, Karoly Kernstok established an art school in the Nyergesújfalu region of Hungary.
Today the art of Karoly Kernstok is found in most major Hungarian collections, including the Hungarian National Gallery, Budapest
Kernstok Károlyról (Ady csodálatos versével):
Firefighters' demonstration in Paris.
Riot police is blocking the way to the "périphérique" (ring road around Paris) near Porte de Vincennes, to prevent the demonstrators reaching it. The reddish / pink color comes from the flares thrown by the demonstrators, and you can see the water canon in action.
Straight out of the camera (no crop, no adjustment).
Part of "Au feu, les pompiers !" (please watch in the order of the set, to better understand the chronology of events)
From Wikipedia
The Huntington Beach Pier is a municipal pier located in Huntington Beach, California. At 1,850 feet (560 m) in length, it is one of the longest public piers on the West Coast. (The longest is Oceanside Pier at 1,942 feet). It has been damaged or destroyed four times; in 1912, 1939, 1983 and most recently on January 17, 1988 destroying the End Cafe for the second time in the decade.
The most recent reincarnation of the pier is designed of reinforced concrete to withstand 31-foot (9.4 m) waves or a 7.0 magnitude earthquake and uses an increased space between piles to accommodate surfers - as requested by the City. The pier slopes gently up toward the seaward end in a straight line which alternates with three octagonal platforms and one rotated square (108 feet on a side) that forms a diamond at the pier's seaward end. Not only is the pier structurally sound, it also retains a number of design elements from the original pier including haunches at the pile caps and corbels supporting light standards.
The pier is frequented by sport fishermen as well as surfing spectators. A restaurant is located at the end of the pier.
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a close up image
www.flickr.com/photos/10141102@N08/3115827924/in/set-7215...
travel.mapsofworld.com/the-bahamas/marsh-harbor-tourist-a...
not posted an Australian photo for a while ;-) there is a rumour we are going back in 2010 :-)
Ski Blue and Black Jackson Browne
My Books:
My book "Discover GUIMERÀ" (preview)
My book "Discover SANTA PAU" (preview)
My book "Discover BESALÚ" (preview)
In the calling out to one another
Of the lovers up and down the strand
In the sound of the waves and the cries
Of the seagulls circling the sand
In the fragments of the songs
Carried down the wind from some radio
In the murmuring of the city in the distance
Ominous and low
I hear the sound of the world where we played
And the far too simple beauty
Of the promises we made
If you ever need holding
Call my name, I'll be there
If you ever need holding
And no holding back, I'll see you through
Sky, sky blue and black
Where the touch of the lover ends
And the soul of the friend begins
There's a need to be separate
and a need to be one
And a struggle neither wins
Where you gave me the world I was in
And a place I could make a stand
I could never see how you doubted me
When I'd let go of your hand
Yeah, and I was much younger then
And I must have thought that I would know
If things were going to end
And the heavens were rolling
Like a wheel on a track
And our sky was unfolding
And it'll never fold back
Sky blue and black
And I'd have fought the world for you
If I thought that you wanted me to
Or put aside what was true or untrue
If I'd known that's what you needed
What you needed me to do
But the moment has passed by me now
To have put away my pride
And just come through for you somehow
If you ever need holding
Call my name, I'll be there
If you ever need holding
And no holding back, I'll see you through
You're the color of the sky
Reflected in each store-front window pane
You're the whispering and the sighing
Of my tires in the rain
You're the hidden cost and
the thing that's lost
In everything I do
Yeah and I'll never stop looking for you
In the sunlight and the shadows
And the faces on the avenue
That's the way love is
That's the way love is
That's the way love is
Sky blue and black
In Wordpress In Blogger photo.net/photos/Reinante/ In Onexposure
Noche sin luna, ausencia de nubes y mi amiga Carmen y un servidor después de una copita en casa nos lanzamos al ataque fotográfico.
Encuadro, calculo exposición, decido la iluminación y venga, una toma de 40 minutos bien. Hasta aquí todo bien, no?
Pues a los 20 minutos mi querida amiga se cansa y decide cambiar el encuadre a lo que yo le aviso por activo y por pasivo: "Carmen, cuidado con el trípode que le vas a dar al mío". Pues ale, dos golpes!!!!!!!!
No pasa nada. Corto y empiezo otra vez.
Nos alejamos unos 20 metros de mi cámara para hacer fotos con la suya y cuando llevamos más de media hora de exposición.... ZAS! Guardia Civil con más luces que una feria.
El Sr. Agente muy amable pregunta que qué hacemos y yo apunto de matarlo le digo muy amablemente también que disfrutamos de la noche haciendo fotografías y que me ha estropeado la que estaba haciendo.... jeje
El pobre me pidió disculpas. En fin, mejor estas visitas que no otras de indeseados.
Nuevas galerías en www.mariorubio.com y www.fotografonocturno.com
Canal TV en YOUTUBE NightPhotography
Nuevos dominios en www.lightpainting.es y en www.cursosdefotografianocturna.com
Lo que entiendo por abstracto es algo que surge espontáneamente desde una gama de contrastes, estéticos a la vez que físicos, y que impregnan tanto la imagen como el ojo del espectador con ideas de elementos nuevos y desconocidos. Marc Chagall.
Cita extraída de El lenguaje del arte de José B. Ruiz
Exif:
Nikon D700
Focal: 14mm
Iso: 3200
Aperture: f2,8
WB 2.700K
40 shoots. 31 seconds each joined with www.startrails.de
Man how I loathe doing HDR work. My eyes and brain know it's not natural, and my tendency is to edit them into oblivion and make them look non HDR. I had to force myself away from it this time.
This image would be impossible to expose without HDR. I didn't actually meter the difference between outside light and what it was inside the cave, but I'm betting it was about 7 - 9 stops difference at the brightest to darkest.
I hate trying to get colors balanced and what not.
Anyway. This is a stitch of 13 HDR images (from a total of 39 RAWs), shot in 3 rows of 4 (plus one straggler somewhere).
I can't wait to get a panoramic head for my tripod. That'll make these things so much better. Autopano was having a heck of a time trying to figure out how to stitch it. It still has some defects. Oh well. It just gives me an excuse to go back :)
The Struggle
by Begary
Have you ever traveled down a road to find there was no end
For every corner that you turned there was another bend
The faster that you walked, the longer that it seemed
And you were all alone, in this crazy dream
Crazy dreams that you dream alone
When the lights go out and no one's home
You see the day for what it's been
And you wish to God you could stay clean
The morning brings you to the road you didn't want to travel
and every step you take again makes your life unravel
You keep on walking down the path, wondering what you'll find,
and pray that when you find it you wont have lost your mind
It's halfway through another day and you're looking for those dreams
knowing they can make your life better than it seems
If only to forget your pain for a little while
you can travel down the road just another mile
The night is now upon you, the miles are on your face,
But you keep going forward to your final place.
You know the end is coming soon, you see it straight ahead
And if they don't forget you, you never will be dead
Copyright© 2008 Kamoteus/RonMiguel RN
This image is protected under the United States and International Copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without written permission.
My first upload from our trip to Scotland. This is my favorite out of all the photos I took, though it may not be the best. There is so much about it that just sums up our trip. I took this image on the way from Perth to Inverness. It had been a beautiful day in Perth with blue sky and big white puffy clouds, but as we drove into Inverness the clouds began to get lower (or we were getting higher!) and everything was shrouded in mist. It was wonderful to be able to capture this small country church as we drove by.
Large on black or at BEST 1500 x 750 pixels.
Preparing already for a full week of photography in London! Keywords: Ultra wide angle, HDR and (especially at) night! Going alone, exploring parts of London I've never been to - by bike!
Can't wait for March!
This shot was from my last visit back in May 2010. University of Greenwich, Queen's House plus Royal Observatory in the back - taken from one of those speedy commuters boats. Loved it!
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Date: Taken on May 8, 2010 at 19:26 h / 7.26pm CEST
Exif data
Camera Nikon D90
Exposure 0.02 sec (1/50)
Aperture f/7.1
Focal Length 26 mm (Nikon 18-200mm VRII)
ISO Speed 200
Belgium.
National Botanic Garden.
www.br.fgov.be/PUBLIC/GENERAL/index.php
Melaleuca citrina or Callistemon citrinus is a shrub growing to 5 m (20 ft) tall but more usually in the range 1–3 m (3–10 ft) high and wide. It has hard, fibrous or papery bark and its young growth is usually covered with soft, silky hairs. Its leaves are arranged alternately and are 26–99 mm (1–4 in) long, 4–25 mm (0.2–1 in) wide, hard, flat, narrow egg-shaped with the narrower end near the base and with a pointed but not sharp end. There are between 7 and 26 branching veins clearly visible on both ides of the leaves and a large number of distinct oil glands visible on both surfaces of the leaves.
The flowers are red and arranged in spikes on the ends of branches which continue to grow after flowering and sometimes also in the upper leaf axils. The spikes are up to 45–70 mm (2–3 in) in diameter and 60–100 mm (2–4 in) long with up to 80 individual flowers. The petals are 3.9–5.8 mm (0.15–0.23 in) long and fall off as the flower ages. There are 30 to 45 stamens in each flower, with their "stalks" (the filaments) red and "tips" (the anthers) purple.
On the occasion of the Greek Monarch's 70th birthday, Taki's Magazine found the most charming words on the King of the Hellenes.
"The Greek royal family had to endure endless vilifications while political hacks led the nation to the ruin of today. Greek politicians fear the King and they fear monarchy even more. Presidents can be appointed and expected to pay back, Kings are not and do not. ...
"And it gets worse. Vilification aside, the Greek royal family’s lands were confiscated—lands that had been bought by the family in the early 19th century and not handed to them by a grateful nation - and after judicial review in the highest court of Europe, appraised at one hundredth of their value. The Greek King gave the funds to a Greek charity and has never complained. The fact that the Greek King and his family have always acted impeccably when the nation has been in danger does not seem to matter. Envy is a Greek trait, and the envious among them cheered at the unfairness of it all. Basically, the Greek left never forgave the present King’s father and mother for fighting against the communist guerrillas who tried to take power through force of arms back in the Forties. Greek journalists are, like everywhere, men and women of the left. Punto basta, as they say in the land of pasta.
"Which brings me to the present. The King is now planning to move to Greece and last week he celebrated his 70th birthday. His son, Prince Pavlos and his wife, Princess Marie-Chantal, threw a wonderful dinner to celebrate it. ...
"Who else was there? I’ve already done all the name dropping I will ever do, but it’s not every day that a King turns 70 and does it in such style. Bob and Chantal Miller, the Carringtons, the Bismarcks, the Frosts, the Hoares, many Greeks, and little ole me. Afterwards I had a drink with Prince Nikolaos of Greece and as I walked back home I thought what a sign of affection for the Greek King Queen Elizabeth and the rest of the royals showed towards a very nice man who has always deserved better."
The photo shows Their Majesties arriving at the Danish Queen's 70th birthday on 13th April 2010 at Christiansborg Palace.
Lanuza, Huesca (Spain).
I was driving on the road that borders the marsh, and I could not resist.
Iba yo conduciendo por la carretera que bordea el pantano, y no pude resistirme.
ENGLISH
Lanuza is a small village located in the Pyrenean of Huesca, Aragón, Spain. It is in the left border of the marsh to which it gives name, in that dam up waters of the Gállego river. Lanuza belongs to the municipal term of Sallent de Gállego, in the region of High Gállego.
The name of Lanuza seems to derive from the latinized celtic term moor or wool, that means “slope”, occurring the circumstance that the surrounding place to the town (today submerged) was in its day occupied by extensive prairies and grass. Its existence appears documented from 13th century and in 1488 already it counted on 20 homes. Along with Sallent, it formed one of the three historical "quiñones" in which the Valley of Tena was divided administratively.
Prosperously and eminently cattle dealer in her origins, the construction of the dam in 1976 caused the gradual and forced unhabitation of the locality until being vacated completely in 1978. Victim of plunder and the abandonment, in the decade of the 90 old inhabitants was able to recover the not submerged properties and initiate a revitalization process still active.
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CASTELLANO
Lanuza es una pequeña localidad situada en el Pirineo oscense, Aragón, España. Se encuentra en la orilla izquierda del pantano al que da nombre, en el que se embalsan las aguas del río Gállego. Lanuza pertenece al término municipal de Sallent de Gállego, en la comarca del Alto Gállego.
El nombre de Lanuza parece derivar del término celta latinizado landa o lana, que significa "ladera", dándose la circunstancia de que el paraje circundante al pueblo (hoy sumergido) estuvo en su día ocupado por extensas praderas y pastos. Su existencia aparece documentada desde el siglo XIII y en 1488 ya contaba con 20 hogares. Junto con Sallent, formaba uno de los tres históricos quiñones en los que se dividía administrativamente el Valle de Tena.
Próspera y eminentemente ganadera en sus orígenes, la construcción del embalse en 1976 provocó el paulatino y forzado despoblamiento de la localidad hasta quedar completamente deshabitada en 1978. Víctima del expolio y el abandono, en la década de los 90 los antiguos moradores consiguieron recuperar las propiedades no sumergidas e iniciaron un proceso de revitalización que sigue activo.
Más info: es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lanuza
[...]Su presencia cambió mi vida. La casa de pasillos obscuros y muebles empolvados se llenó de aire, de sol, de rumores y reflejos verdes y azules, pueblo numeroso y feliz de reverberaciones y ecos.
¡Cuántas olas es una ola y cómo puede hacer playa o roca o rompeolas un muro, un pecho, una frente que corona de espumas! Hasta los rincones abandonados, los abyectos rincones del polvo y los detritus fueron tocados por sus manos ligeras. Todo se puso a sonreír y por todas partes brillaban dientes blancos. El sol entraba con gusto en las viejas habitaciones y se quedaba en casa por horas, cuando ya hacía tiempo que había abandonado las otras casas, el barrio, la ciudad, el país. Y varias noches, ya tarde, las escandalizadas estrellas lo vieron salir de mi casa, a escondidas. El amor era un juego, una creación perpetua. Todo era playa, arena, lecho de sábanas siempre frescas. Si la abrazaba, ella se erguía, increiblemente esbelta, como el tallo líquido de un chopo; y de pronto esa delgadez florecía en un chorro de plumas blancas, en un penacho de risas que caían sobre mi cabeza y mi espalda y me cubrían de blancuras. O se extendía frente a mi, infinita como el horizonte, hasta que yo también me hacía horizonte y silencio. Plena y sinuosa, me elvolvía como una música o unos labios inmensos. Su presencia era un ir y venir de caricias, de rumores, de besos. Entraba en sus aguas, me ahogaba a medias y en un cerrar de ojos me encontraba arriba, en lo alto del vértigo, misteriosamente suspendido, para caer después como una piedra , y sentirme suavemente depositado en lo seco, como una pluma. Nada es comparable a dormir mecido en las aguas, si no es despertar golpeado por mil alegres látigos ligeros, por arremetidas que se retiran riendo.
Pero jamás llegué al centro de su ser. Nunca toqué el nudo del ay y de la muerte. Quiza en las olas no existe ese sitio secreto que hace vulnerable y mortal a la mujer, ese pequeño botón eléctrico donde todo se enlaza, se crispa y se yergue, para luego desfallecer . Su sensibilidad, como las mujeres, se propagaba en ondas, sólo que no eran ondas concéntricas, sino excéntricas, que se extendían cada vez más lejos, hasta tocar otros astros. Amarla era prolongarse en contactos remotos, vibrar con estrellas lejanas que no sospechamos. Pero su centro... no, no tenia centro, sino un vacío parecido al de los torbellinos, que me chupaba y me asfixiaba.
Tendido el uno al lado de otro , cambiábamos confidencias, cuchicheos, risas. Hecha un ovillo, caía sobre mi pecho y allí se desplegaba como una vegetación de rumores. Cantaba a mi oido, caracola. Se hacia humilde y transparente, echada a mis pies como un animalito, agua mansa. Era tan límpida que podía leer todos sus pensamientos. Ciertas noches su piel se cubría de fosforecencias y abrazarla era abrazar un pedazo de noche tatuada de fuego. Pero se hacia tambien negra y amarga. A horas inesperadas mugía, suspiraba, se retorcía. Sus gemidos despertaban a los vecinos. Al oírla el viento del mar se ponía a rascar la puerta de la casa o deliraba en voz alta por las azoteas. Los días nublados la irritaban; rompía muebles, decía malas palabras, me cubría de insultos y de una espuma gris y verdosa. Escupía, lloraba, juraba, profetizaba. Sujeta a la luna,a las estrellas, al influjo de la luz de otros mundos, cambiaba de humor y de semblante de una manera que a mi me parecia fantástica, pero que era fatal como la marea.
Empezó a quejarse de soledad. Llené la casa de caracolas y conchas, pequeños barcos veleros, que en sus días de furia hacía naufragar (junto con los otros, cargados de imágenes, que todas las noches salían de mi frente y se hundían en sus feroces o graciosos torbellinos). ¡Cuántos pequeños tesoros se perdieron en ese tiempo! Pero no le bastaban mis barcos ni el canto silencioso de las caracolas. Tuve que instalar en la casa una colonia de peces. Confieso que no sin celos los veía nadar en mi amiga, acariciar sus pechos, dormir entre sus piernas, adornar su cabellera con leves relámpagos de colores.
Entre todos aquellos peces había unos particularmente repulsivos y feroces, unos pequeños tigres de acuario, de grandes ojos fijos y bocas hendidas y carniceras. No sé por que aberración mi amiga se complacía en jugar con ellos, mostrándoles sin rubor una preferencia cuyo significado prefiero ignorar. Pasaba largas horas encerrada con aquellas horribles criaturas. Un día no pude más; eché la puerta abajo y me arrojé sobre ellos. Ágiles y fantasmales, se me escapaban entre las manos mientras ella reía y me golpeaba hasta derribarme. Sentí que me ahogaba. Y cuando estaba a punto de morir, morado ya, me depositó suavemente en la orilla y empezó a besarme diciendo no sé qué cosas. Me sentí muy débil, molido y humillado. Y al mismo tiempo la voluptuosidad me hizo cerrar los ojos. Porque su voz era dulce y me hablaba de la muerte deliciosa de los ahogados. Cuando volví en mí, empezé a temerla y odiarla[...]
O. Paz
Mi vida con la ola
Multnomah Falls is a waterfall on the Oregon side of the Columbia River Gorge, located east of Troutdale, between Corbett and Dodson, along the Historic Columbia River Highway. The falls drops in two major steps, split into an upper falls of 542 feet (165 m) and a lower falls of 69 feet (21 m), with a gradual 9 foot (3 m) drop in elevation between the two, so the total height of the waterfall is conventionally given as 620 feet (189 m). Multnomah Falls is the tallest waterfall in the State of Oregon.
twitter . facebook . Bethany Baptist Church
If you'd like to purchase prints, go to Ryan Wright Photography on Photoshelter
a skeletalmess texture was applied
Swayambhunath (Devnagari: स्वयम्भूनाथ स्तुप; sometimes romanized Swoyambhunath) is an ancient religious complex atop a hill in the Kathmandu Valley, west of Kathmandu city. It is also known as the Monkey Temple as there are holy monkeys living in parts of the temple in the north-west. The Tibetan name for the site means 'Sublime Trees' (Wylie:Phags.pa Shing.kun), for the many varieties of trees found on the hill. However, Shing.kun may be a corruption of the local Newari name for the complex, Singgu, meaning 'self-sprung'.
For the Buddhist Newars in whose mythological history and origin myth as well as day-to-day religious practice, Swayambhunath occupies a central position, it is probably the most sacred among Buddhist pilgrimage sites. For Tibetans and followers of Tibetan Buddhism, it second only to Boudhanath.
Entre otras cosas porque o te llenas de cardos, o te llenas de barro o te hace la visita típica la Guardia Civil....
Nuevas galerías en www.mariorubio.com y www.fotografonocturno.com
Canal TV en YOUTUBE NightPhotography
Nuevos dominios en www.lightpainting.es y en www.cursosdefotografianocturna.com
Hay ocasiones en que el sujeto en el visor de la cámara es tan fascinante que olvido apretar el disparador. Ken Padley.
Cita extraída de El lenguaje del arte de José B. Ruiz
Exif:
Camera Nikon D700
Exposure 300.7
Aperture f/8.0
Focal Length 19 mm
ISO Speed 200
WB 3300
Blue gelled flash and warm light torch
Hilo de la Fotohistoria en Pullip .es: SHIN'S BASS SOLO (1 of 1) /
EL SOLO DE SHIN (1 de 1)
(Read in order, this is: SHOT/FOTO 05 of 48) PAG: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48.
FOTOHISTORY: In English / En Español
Shin: I can follow you with anything (Sit tight...)
/
Shin: Yo te sigo lo que quieras. (Te vas a enterar...)
LINKS:
- FOTOHISTORIAS en casa de Sheryl en el Foro de Pullips: Pullip .es
- Hilo de las Fotohistorias de Shin y Yashiro en el Foro de Pullips: Pullip .es
- Hilo de la Relación entre Shin y Yashiro en la sección de Penpals de Pullip .es
- Ayrin and Sheryl PHOTOSTORIES at Flickr
www.coachbuild.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=168&t=1292
. .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. Nembo GT 1968 .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * .. * ..
El Neri y Bonacini Nembo GT.
El pequeño "Miura a escala" no entró en producción
1966 fue un año muy importante en la escena del coche deportivo italiano. El nuevo Lamborghini Miura representó una verdadera revolución y que sacudió a los principios técnicos de la época. El motor fue trasladado al centro del coche (detrás del conductor), siguiendo el diseño mecánico utilizado por los coches de Fórmula 1 que introdujo esta característica a finales de 1950. El Miura, sin embargo, tenía un motor montado transversalmente.
En realidad, el ATS 2500 GT y el De Tomaso Vallelunga fueron los primeros coches italianos con motor central, pero eran modelos poco comunes que se producen en pequeñas cantidades y que no influyen en el mercado como el Lamborghini.
Neri y Bonacini, dos expertos de coches deportivos.
El debut de Lamborghini Miura inspiró un nuevo coche deportivo con características similares, pero a pequeña escala. Alguien dijo igual que un "pequeño Miura", ...
Los hombres detrás del proyecto fueron conocidos personalidades del mundo deportivo: Giorgio Neri y Bonacini Luciano.
Ambos eran ex trabajadores de la escudería Maserati y establecieron un centro de proyectos, Carrozzeria Neri y Bonacini. Ellos estaban acostumbrados a trabajar en los coches exóticos como el Ferrari 250 Breadvan que corrió por la Scuderia Serenissima o el Strale Daytona 6000 GT, un solo ejemplar esta vez sobre la base de la Iso Rivolta GT encargado por un concesionario de automóviles de lujo.
Después de pasar años trabajando para otras fábricas, en 1966 Neri y Bonacini trataron de construir un coche nuevo que se vende con su marca registrada Nembo, una especie de acrónimo de los apellidos. La principal característica del nuevo coche es el diseño del motor, ya que tienen las nuevas tendencias técnicas.
La década de 1960 fueron la época dorada de los coches deportivos italianos - las cosas cambiaron drásticamente después de la crisis del petróleo 1973 - así Neri y Bonacini asumieron que un pequeño GranTurismo fue un coche éxito y se desarrolló en el Nembo GT.
Chasis estrenar y motor boxer Lancia Flavia
El Nembo GT tenía un chasis monocasco emparejado con el frente y chasis de bastidor auxiliar trasero. La carrocería estaba hecha de aluminio y tenía algunas semejanzas con otros coches. Fue muy probablemente inspirado en el Miura, sobre todo en la parte trasera: los guardabarros, la ventana trasera y la rejilla negra en el panel trasero fue muy cerca de la Lamborghini.
Por otro lado, el Nembo GT podría ser anterior algunos de los rasgos estilísticos de la AMC AMX / 3, un prototipo 1970 auto deportivo americano que no pasó en la producción. Después de todo, el nuevo coche italiano tenía buena pinta, una excepción de la larga distancia entre ejes, que parecía un poco fuera de proporción.
Una de las características más específicas de la Nembo GT fue el motor. Neri y Bonacini eligieron el boxeador de 4 cilindros del Lancia Flavia Sport Zagato. Equipado con carburadores dobles, tenía una potencia máxima de 105 CV. Gracias a su bajo peso (menos de 1800 libras), el coche tenía impresionantes funciones y una velocidad máxima de 125 mph.
El motor boxer permite un centro de gravedad más bajo y podemos suponer que el coche tenía un muy buen manejo. El Lancia Flavia era un coche de tracción delantera con motor longitudinal, por lo tanto, los semiejes directamente exactos la misma longitud. Así que el motor simplemente estaba instalado en el centro del coche sin grandes modificaciones, la caja de cambios se orientó hacia la parte trasera.
Sólo dos coches se construyeron como prototipos
El primer Nembo GT era un coche de pruebas y tenía solo ajuste esencial. La carrocería no tenía la pintura, con paneles de aluminio desnudos.
Este coche tenía faros colocados en la parrilla delantera. Las luces traseras eran muy grandes, pero probablemente fueron compuestas por muchas pequeñas luces colocadas de lado a lado. En ambos casos, el fabricante puede tener muchas piezas producidas en serie, fácil de encontrar y de bajo costo.
El segundo coche recibió algunas mejoras y fue un poco más cómodo, casi listo para una pequeña producción en serie. El habitáculo parecía bastante simple, pero el equipamiento de la serie del coche ofreció una radio con un altavoz entre los asientos y el suelo estaba cubierto de moqueta.
También la carrocería fue mejorada y ahora el coche tenía los faros delanteros emergentes, mientras que las luces traseras eran las mismas que utilizaba el sedán Alfa Romeo Giulia, fácilmente adaptable y disponible como repuestos comunes.
Sólo la pintura era extraña: el segundo Nembo GT tuvo una librea roja con demasiadas rayas decorativas y umbrales de las puertas negras.
Además de la pintura cuestionable, el Nembo GT cumplió con todos los requisitos para convertirse en un coche de producción regular y el suministro de motores para el tema principal. Al principio parecía solo una formalidad, pero se convirtió en la razón de que fallara la fabricación en serie Nembo GT.
Lancia no estaba de acuerdo para suministrar el motor Flavia, por lo que Neri y Bonacini dejaron su trabajo porque era un obstáculo insuperable para un pequeño fabricante de este tipo. Su sueño de construir un coche deportivo terminado y la planta de carrocería cerró poco después.
Neri fue a la fábrica Piero Drogo, mientras que Bonacini se trasladó a De Tomaso.
Un proyecto muy interesante que se truncó demasiado pronto
Las razones por las que Lancia rechazo abastecer el proyecto no eran claras. Podemos suponer que la petición de Neri y Bonacini llegó en el momento equivocado: Lancia estaba en un punto de inflexión y solo dos años más tarde fue adquirida por Fiat. Probablemente, la decisión no fue influenciada por razones de mercadotecnia, ya que un coche deportivo hecho en pequeñas cantidades no podría ser un competidor para los coches Lancia.
Tanto el Nembo GT todavía existe hoy y que no fueron tan difíciles o desecharse, con los años, pero fue un triste final para un coche con un gran potencial.
Curiosamente, Neri y Bonacini encontraron una circunstancia similar a pocos años antes. En 1964 se diseñó el chasis de bastidor para el Cóndor Aguzzoli, un deportivo con motor central equipado con el motor de Alfa Romeo Giulietta, que era muy avanzado para la época.
Éramos grandes expectativas para este coche y entramos en algunas carreras impulsadas por conductores expertos como Ernesto "Tino" Brambilla, uno de los protagonistas del campeonato de F3 italiana muy competitivo. Los propietarios contaban con la ayuda técnica de la propia Alfa Romeo, pero el fabricante Milanese estaba ocupado con el desarrollo Giulia TZ. A pesar del potencial, la producción Cóndor se detuvo después de solo dos coches. Tres años más tarde, fue el mismo para el Nembo GT.
¿Casualidad o destino?
Fuente: Giacomo Arosio
Tipo de motor: motor
Lancia V4 1800 cc | 109.8 cu en | 1.8 L .. 145 BHP (106,72 KW) Diámetro: 3,5 cm | 88 mm. Carrera: 2,9 es | 74 mm.
Cambio:
manual
Altura .............................. 47,0 es | 1194 mm.
Distancia entre ejes ........ 92,0 en | 2337 mm.
Frente Track ................... 53,0 es | 1346 mm.
Pista Trasera .................. 52,5 es | 1334 mm.
Unidades fabricadas ...... 2
Back in November 2012 I finally saw Madama Butterfly, my all time favourite opera, live. There were evidently a few in the audience who had never seen it or even know of the story - during the applause for the performers, the singer who had the role of B.F. Pinkerton was heckled. In jest, ofcourse.
Then I got to thinking why it is that I like this opera so much. Why do I gravitate towards heart shattering "love" stories where the heroine almost invariably dies (mortally or spiritually) for a man who, on reflection, can more or less be described as the embodiment of fluff... read: Swan Lake (my favourite ballet), The Little Mermaid (the original Hans Christian Andersen story that i first read as a child, not the Disney-ised crap).... Is it because in mortal or spiritual death I can believe that the purity of these heroines' love is preserved?
B.F. Pinkerton offered Cio Cio San nothing but a fog of unreal romance - petals, bubbles, rainbows, glitter... promises of forever, undying love, integrity, songs, poetry... beautiful but fleeting and ultimately insincere.
Why do lesser men, with sweet tongues but with false hearts, attract such extreme devotion and sacrifice? Lately I've been wishing that Cio Cio San had a chance to exact vengeance on Pinkerton...
You took my heart and you held it in your mouth
And, with a word all my love came rushing out
And, every whisper, it's the worst, emptied out by a single word
There is a hollow in me now
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing
And it's hard to learn
And it's hard to love
When you're giving me such sweet nothing
Sweet nothing, sweet nothing
You're giving me such sweet nothing
It isn't easy for me to let it go
Cause
I've swallowed every single word
And
Every whisper, every sigh
Eats away at this heart of mine
And there is a hollow in me now
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing
And it's hard to learn
And it's hard to love
When you're giving me such sweet nothing
Sweet nothing, sweet nothing
You're giving me such sweet nothing
And it's not enough
To tell me that you care
When, we both know the words are empty air
You give me nothing
Explore: 11.02.08
First try Infrared Photography: the Photoshop way
Sometimes you'll hear someone called a "Renaissance man." That means he's a man of many interests, gifts and pursuits - skilled in many areas. If there is such a thing as a "Renaissance boy," I think our five-year-old grandson might be one. He's interested in so many things - and actually, he's good in a lot of them. To round out the other areas of his life, he recently got involved in a soccer league for kids his age. Which makes his mother a "soccer mom," I guess. Which means everybody wants her vote. Right? Well, our grandson didn't have the benefit of having an older sibling to learn from as some other members of his little team did. The soccer learning curve for him was a little steep, but he's been doing well. But something really special happened in one of the last games of the season. The team's two little stars came late - players who the others tend to lean on. But they weren't there to lean on. Now it was clearly up to kids who were usually in the shadow of those stars. Well, our favorite soccer player really stepped up. Suddenly, he was more focused, more aggressive than he'd been all season - and right away he scored two goals for his team, and they won that night.
guess our grandson looked around and said, "Well, if it is to be, it's up to me!" And suddenly he stepped up to make a difference like he'd never made before. It may be that time in the game for you right now - time to step up and really make a difference.
You've got a great example to follow in our word for today from the Word of God in 1 Samuel 17, beginning with verse 23. The Israelis and Philistines are lined up facing one another on opposite sides of a valley. Every day the Philistine giant comes out and he challenges the Israelites to send out a man to fight him, with the people of the loser serving the people of the winner from that day on. Young David, the youngest brother in his family, arrives to bring food to his warrior brothers just as Goliath is coming out to issue his challenge for the fortieth day in a row.
The Bible says, "Goliath ... shouted his usual defiance, and David heard it. When the Israelites saw the man, they all ran from him in great fear ... David said to Saul, 'Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him.'" None of the big varsity players in their nice uniforms will get in the game - so the kid does, with just a slingshot. He doesn't have the training the others do, he doesn't have the experience, he doesn't have the weapons, but he's willing to step up because he believes, as he tells Goliath, "The battle is the Lord's." And Goliath went down because an unlikely, seemingly unqualified, hero stepped up.
This is a time when the Goliaths of hell are holding the field all around us. Not because the darkness is so strong, but because no one will step up and fight the battles. Right now God is summoning you, as unlikely and unqualified as you may feel, to get out of the shadows and onto the front lines. Someone has to take that assignment no one else is rising to. Someone needs to step up and change the atmosphere in your church, or in your school, or in your home, or where you work. Someone has to fight for your marriage. Someone has to be the one to confront what's wrong, to bring people together, to lead a prayer effort, to talk about Jesus.
In Isaiah's day when God asked, "Who will go for us?" Isaiah answered, "Here am I, send me" (Isaiah 6:8). Maybe you've been holding back saying, "Here am I, send him." But God is summoning you to step up for this one - like our grandson on that soccer field, making a greater difference than he'd ever made before because he knew it was up to him this time! And this assignment from God is up to you - even if there are defiant giants standing in the way. It's your time to shine, and you will, because the battle is the Lord's!
-Ron Hutchcraft
Best viewed Large on Black
I captured this image of the Green Heron (formerly Green-Backed Heron) at the "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge in Sanibel Island, on the southwestern coast of Florida. Access to Ding Darling is through a paved one-way road (Wildlife Drive) which winds itself through the watery refuge. On this day the birds seemed to be particularly far from the road and so difficult to photograph. This heron seemed to be one of the few exceptions. He just stood on top of a rock by the water's edge and posed for the dozen or so photographers.
Green Heron (Right Profile) at Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge, Florida
Hilo de la Fotohistoria en Pullip .es: DATING AT CINEMA (5 of 5): The cliff lookout /
CITA EN EL CINE (5 de 5): El Mirador
(Read in this order) PAG: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286.
PHOTOSTORY: In English / En Español
Dom: Hahaha, is that okay? Are you happy now? (well, it worth to spend an embarrassing moment if she gets happy)
/
Dom: Jajaja, ya? Ya estás contenta? (bueno, merece la pena pasar vergüenza si es para que ella esté contenta)
COLLABORATION:
- Dom y Akari en el Foro de Pullips: Pullip .es
- Cinema's diorama by Minao. Sweets shop's diorama by Sheryl and Minao Collaboration.
- Little interpretation of Mad_Pullip's Emily as a MUSE fan.
SHERYL LINKS:
- Pullip .es: Las Fotohistorias de Sheryl
- Sheryl's Flickr: Photostories 2011 - Sketches 2011 / Photostories 2012 - Sketches 2012
www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9GTa70RMq0
Dunno for how many years this tree outside of Restaurant Sävargården have been decorated like this during winter time, but I've been wanting to shoot it since last winter when I discovered the beauty with all these lights. I never really got the time to shoot it or the circumstances like weather or the lights being off was holding me, until tonight after work. Without the wind swaying the branches it was pretty prefect except for the snow hitting my lens all the time, though I managed to get this one without any noticeable traces to snowflakes on the lens.
The ambient was pretty darn warm and this was the look I was after, Kelvin at 2500 didn't quite match what I was going for unfortunately so I had to process some. Not too much processing though, most noticeable is the Temp brought down to 2000 from 2500 which was the lowest I was able to go on the 40D.
It hasn't stopped snowing yet... love it.
It had been snowing all along the west side of Lake Tahoe, so we decide to go north to test our luck. We rounded the north shore and into Nevada, and the storm clouds were everywhere. At that time we payed the $4 to park at Sand Harbor and checkout out all the spots.
We settled on the North-West facing cove that everyone photographs. This area has SO many options for photos. Which is great for numerous reasons. First,you do not have to battle royale over compositions while the light is good (Jim and I seem to always have to roshambo for comps). Second, your photo friends do not have to be in your photo.
We both strolled out with wading boots and began to play. Wading boots/waders are a must for this site, especially if you do not want to fall in.
You will see numerous sand harbor photos littering my photo stream over the next few weeks, can't help it... that afternoon was that good. All are long exposures, done in mid day.
Nikon D300
Tokina 11-16mm @14mm
f/13 for 30s
ISO 160
HOYA ND-400X
HOYA Polarizer
Lee .6 GND
This is one of artist Dale Chihuly's glass art displays at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona. The exhibition at the Garden is named "Chihuly: The Nature of Glass" and Chihuly's work is displayed from November 22, 2008 to May 31, 2009. The Nature of Glass exhibit features new and unique works of glass artfully located throughout the Garden. Dale Chihuly is known for his innovative glass sculptures, and his work is immediately recognizable for its grand scale and vibrant colors. This is Chihuly's first exhibition in an outdoor desert environment.
“The artist permits and encourages photography of the artwork in this exhibition for educational and non-commercial use only.”
INFORMATION ON ARTIST DALE CHIHULY:
Dale Patrick Chihuly (b. September 20, 1941 in Tacoma, Washington, United States) is an American glass sculptor. Chihuly graduated from high school in Tacoma. Supported by his mother, after his brother George's death in a flight-training accident in Florida and his father's death of a heart attack, he enrolled at the College of the Puget Sound (now University of Puget Sound) in 1959.
In 1967, he received a Master of Science in sculpture from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Chihuly lives and works in his 25,000 square foot (2300 m²) studio, nicknamed "The Boathouse" for its former use, on Lake Union. Since losing the vision in one of his eyes in a car accident in 1976, Chihuly (who wears an eyepatch) no longer has the depth perception necessary to handle the molten glass himself. Instead, he conceptualizes each project with paint and canvas and then employs a team of artists to do the work.
About his work: His fascination with abstract nature forms comes from his mother's garden in Tacoma, Washington. One of his sculptures would be prominently displayed on the sitcom Frasier, which is set in nearby Seattle. His love for the ocean and its creatures is also reflected in his art.
Over the past forty years, Chihuly's glass sculptures have explored color, design, and assemblage. Although his work varies in size and color, he is best known for his multipart blown masterpieces. Also interested in Irish culture, he has produced a sizeable volume of "Irish cylinders," which are more modest in conception than his blown glass works.
Some of Chihuly's works cover whole ceilings of casinos and hotels, while others are hand-sized abstract flowers. Chihuly uses intense colors to bring his work to life. He is also known for using neon and argon.
Chihuly uses nature as a setting for his pieces, and tries to create his pieces as though they are part of nature. He sometimes entwines his pieces around tree branches and trunks. He also suspends them in space and floats them in water. Although it is not widely known, some components of Chihuly's installations (for example, the stacked aqua-colored chunks that decorate the Tacoma "Bridge of Glass") are made of an acrylic-type material rather than glass.
Source: Wikipedia
INFORMATION ABOUT THE DESERT BOTANICAL GARDEN:
Nestled amid the red buttes of Papago Park, the Desert Botanical Garden hosts one of the world’s finest collections of desert plants. One of only 44 botanical gardens accredited by the American Association of Museums, this one-of-a-kind museum showcases 50 acres of beautiful outdoor exhibits. Home to 139 rare, threatened and endangered plant species from around the world, the Garden offers interesting and inspiring experiences to more than 300,000 visitors each year.
A charter member of the Museum Association of Arizona and National Center for Plant Conservation, the Garden is fully accredited with the American Association of Museums and American Association of Botanical Gardens and Arboreta. It continues to build on its 63-year legacy of environmental stewardship, and has become nationally and internationally renowned for its plant collections, research and educational programs.
Source: www.dbg.org/index.php/about
Well, we did it, we went camping. It was so nice when we got there. We got the tent set up had some beers and mom some wine. I went and got us some firewood so we could have a campfire that night. The campfire didn't happen because the rain came in. It was scary, with the lightening and then seconds later the thunder. That storm last a long time and by the time it was over, it was to dark to have a fire and make dinner over it. So we had a sandwich for dinner. The next day the we went fishing in this beautiful little lake but we didn't catch anything but the rocks on the bottom of the lake. After fishing I drove mom around the campground and then around Show Low. When we returned the Ranger told us that the storm the night before was the worst storm they had all summer. We got back to the tent and guess what....you got it, it started to rain. This time it rained for 7 hours straight. It did lighten up enough for me to start a quick campfire to grill our hot dogs but that didn't last long and back to the downpour. In the few days that we were gone, we go to know the inside of our tent very well. I told mom she had to go again because this wasn't what it was suppose to be. So, we will be heading off again one of these weekends.
Thanks to Kim Klassen for the use of your textures.
Combat skills (at least at my base) is a two day course that helps prepare you for combat situations when you deploy. If you go to somewhere more hostile where you'll arm up, they send you through a longer training course, but two days is plenty when you aren't even going to be carrying a weapon at your deployed location. The class is surprisingly a lot of fun, even if it is exhausting. The first day is all classroom instruction with a brief overview of the weapon, refreshing your memory on how painful the low crawl is...that kind of thing. The best part of the course is the last part of day 2 where you actually get to fire off blank rounds. It's challenging and reminds you that "Hey, I really am in the military." I was hoping I would actually be able to take pictures of us in the field the M16 during lunch was all I had. I wish I could say that I'm mad in this picture, I'm just physically exhausted. I'm definitely out of shape...
HDR image processed from 5 exposures with Photomatix Pro.
Captured close to one of the main entrances of the Forbidden Palace in Beijing about a week ago ...
Please don't use this image on any media without asking for permission.
© All rights reserved.
A sprig of dried lavender.
The Lavenders Lavandula are a genus of about 25-30 species of flowering plants in the mint family, native to the Mediterranean region south to tropical Africa and to the southeast regions of India. Lavender flowers yield abundant nectar which yields a high quality honey for beekeepers. Lavender flowers can be candied and are used as cake decoration; used as a herb, either alone or as an ingredient; used to flavour sugar, the product being called "lavender sugar"; and the flowers are sometimes sold in a blend with black tea, as "lavender tea".
For most cooking applications it is the dried buds (seen here) of lavender that are utilised, though some chefs experiment with the leaves as well. It is the buds however that contain the essential oil of lavender, which is where both the scent and flavour of lavender are best derived.
Dear God, surround me as I speak,
the bridges that I walk across are weak
Frustrations fill the void that I can't solely bear.
Dear God, don't let me fall apart
you've held me close to you
I have turned away and searched
for answers I can't understand.
They say that I can move the mountains
And send them falling to the sea
They say that I can walk on water
If I would follow and believe with Faith Like a Child
Sometimes, when I feel miles away
and my eyes can't see your face
I wonder if I've grown to lose the
recklessness I walked in light of you
They say that I can move the mountains
And send them crashing to the sea
They say that I can walk on water
If I would follow and believe
with Faith Like a Child
They say that love can heal the broken
They say that hope can make you see
They say that faith can find a Savior
If you would follow and believe
With Faith Like a Child
Gay & Lesbian Pride March 2010
It’s back in 2010, the event that stops traffic… On Sunday February 7th, the 15th annual Pride March takes over Fitzroy St, St Kilda in a blaze of colour, noise and movement!
Pride March 2010 is an open air celebration culminating in a Pride March down Fitzroy Street St Kilda and finishing with performances on the foreshore. Pride March is to express courage, solidarity, pride, diversity and a strong sense of community.
Gay & Lesbian Pride March
Down Fitzroy Street to Catani Gardens
Sunday 7 February 2010
Fitzroy St, St Kilda Victoria 3182 Australia.
Telephone: 03 9513 3054
Turning 30 in 2010, St Kilda Festival is one of Australia’s best known and Melbourne’s most loved events. It utilises St Kilda’s stunning foreshore and celebrates the cream of Australia’s musical talents.
Saturday 6 February is Yalukit Wilam Ngargee: People, Place Gathering, an outdoor Indigenous festival featuring music, dance, children’s activities and more that welcomes people to St Kilda for the week ahead, O’Donnell Gardens.
From 7-13 February experience Live N Local: St Kilda venues throw open their doors to host a variety of local bands, musicians, performers, artists and comedians in a series of one off and special events - everything you love about St Kilda and more.
I sang this to the boys when they were babies:
All the things you said to me today,
Change my perspective in every way.
These things count to mean so much to me,
Into my faith, you and your baby.
It's out there. It's out there.
It's out there. If you want me I'll be here.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
It's out there. It's out there.
It's out there. If you want me I'll be here...
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
Dreaming my dreams with you.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
And there's no other place,
That I'd lay down my face.
I'll be dreaming my dreams with you.
...night night!
Música: Ella y Él.
No mires hacia atrás, Pepa, disimula y sigue leyendo, pero creo que he visto a mi Ginés con otra mujer cinco filas más atrás de nosotras y le estaba haciendo toda clase de carantoñas.
Mira que me lo decía todo el mundo y no me lo quería creer, qué pedazo de sinvergüenza , me lleva diciendo toda la semana que el viaje a Madrid era para ver un aparato para el laboratorio.....pero no me dijo el capullo que el aparato que quería ver fuera un aparato reproductor femenino. Me estoy encendiendo Pepa!!!... Me esta hirviendo la sangre !!!Creo que me voy a levantar yy....!!!!....
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Bien podría estar basado en un hecho real....y es que historias de este tipo o de cualquier otro se repite en todas partes sin importar mucho el lugar dónde suceden ni la procedencia, ni el status social de las personas.
Y es que hay hombres -( y también mujeres ,claro está)- que son de naturaleza infiel y que no se conforman con una sola mujer....pero también hay otros que lo son por otros motivos y no por tener el acento inherente de D. Juan. Con ello no quiero excusar de ninguna manera la infidelidad pero se podía uno/a parar a pensar en las causas más frecuentes de estas infidelidades, a veces, es la falta de comunicación en la pareja, el no compartir aficiones o actividades conjuntas, la rutina, la falta de ilusión, la dejadez.....y muchísimas más cosas que de seguro much@s podrían tener en mente mientras leen estas líneas y son estas cosas las que permiten que se vaya llenando el vaso imaginario de la relación, con gotitas amargas de insatisfacción que vamos bebiendo día a día , siendo éstas un veneno para nuestra salud física y mental... y empieza el caos en la relación de pareja y es entonces cuando se busca , o sin querer se encuentra, otra bebida más dulce que te hace olvidar la amargura e infelicidad en la que crees que está abocada tu existencia.
Si pensáis que esto tiene moraleja que la aporte cualquier otro, yo voy a "abrocharme el cinturón", no vaya a ser que vengan baches por contar estas historias.
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Continuación de la Historia: la mujer de Ginés aguantó hasta que el avión tomó tierra y no le dijo nada a su marido hasta que volvió a casa.
Él , por supuesto, lo negó todo, y quiso incluso hacerle creer a su ,- hasta ese día-, ... ella creía ,...querida esposa que esa mujer era una loca que le perseguía, que se le había abalanzado ese día en el avión, que jamás había visto a esa mujer en su vida ni mucho menos había tenído relación íntima con ella....y sabéis qué? Ginés, por llamarle de alguna manera, había estado liado con esa mujer nada más y nada menos que cinco años.....pero le salió bien a Ginés y es que tiene una verborrea , un carisma, un don innato encantador ...y de contar historias y echar mentiras, ....que parece que haya nacido para el teatro...y no para estar metido en una oficina y mucho menos ser militar.
La tonta de ella le creyó. Eso sí, llevará cuernos mientras viva ,porque hay hombres que no cambiarán nunca ( que si, que si, y mujeres también!!)
María.-
www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/182444-f...
The darkness of the temple was all-encompassing. Their hololamps felt like comically weak attempts to fight back, as dim and small as they were. The huge, empty halls seemed to call out to them as they passed. More than once, Nathan thought he’d heard someone.
“What was that?” he’d asked Ozz, who stared at him with concern.
“Nothing, kid. Just like last time. Get a grip, would ya?”
Something glinted in Ozz’s light. He peered at it, trying to get a closer look.
Eefo, their guide, (and current victim of blackmail) led from the front.
“Come,” she said. “The deep archives are this way. If there are any records related to Balaam’s Heart, we will find them there.” Then she added, more bitterly, “We can only hope this excursion does not doom the known galaxy.”
Nathan frowned over at her. “Or maybe it’ll keep it safe. If we don’t find the Heart, Pyerce might. It’s worth the risk.”
“Woah, woah, woah!” Ozz exclaimed, and his excited cry echoed in the tunnel. He hurried over to what he’d found—a pile of artifacts, gleaming beneath the dust and sand. “These babies look valuable!”
Eefo and Nathan stood in the entrance of another hall, pausing to look back at him. Eefo couldn’t hide her disgust with his priorities.
“Artifacts for processing, not what you seek.”
“Yeah, not what we came here for,” Nathan said. “Come on, Ozz. Sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Of course, Nathan should never have said that, because that’s the exact kind of thing that leads to ironic catastrophe. And so it did.
The rumbling began quietly, but was deafening before they had a chance to react. The walls were trying to shake apart. The ground bucked underneath them. The tunnel was filled with the cacophony of shouting and the crashing of rock as they all dodged rubble dropping from overhead and dived for cover. What felt like forever was over in just a few seconds.
Nathan pushed himself off the ground and looked frantically for his friend.
“Ozz, Ozz!”
“Nerd?” came the weak reply, through a layer of fallen rock.
“Ozz!” Nathan shouted again, trying to pull away rubble. His efforts were in vain.
“I’m alright, kid! Just…in a different room. You got our bounty?”
Nathan felt a mixture of relief and annoyance surge through him, and he took several deep breaths. Eefo was getting to her feet nearby.
“You okay?” he asked. She replied with a thumbs up.
“Yeah, she’s okay,” he told Ozz. “Hey, we’re gonna make it out of this. Listen, try and go back the way we came, or find another path out. We’ll all join back up at the entrance, got it?”
“Sure, sure. Me, worried? About the dark? Nah. See ya in a bit, no problem.”
Nathan took a moment to rest after the stress of the cave-in. “He’ll be fine,” he told himself.
“Perhaps he will,” Eefo replied dryly. “Forgive me for my lack of concern.”
“Okay, Ozzie, okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Ozz whispered, casting his hololamp around the rubble to find a good path out. The way they’d come in was blocked, so he chose the next best doorway and started trudging along. “No worries, no worries. Think happy thoughts. You’ll get paid! Oh—“ he turned back and—at least something was going right—a few of the gleaming artifacts were strewn across the floor.
“Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo!” Ozz hooted in glee, scooping up a few golden discs to stuff into his jacket. “Come to Ozzie! Now we just gotta find a way outta this pit, and Papa Ozzie can find a nice fence to hock to you to!”
He was glad Nathan wasn’t here to see him talk to treasure.
Now weighed down with future fortunes, Ozz trudged ahead into the dark tunnels and empty halls of the temple, all by his lonesome. He hummed to himself to ward off any fears. He really needed to start carrying a blaster. Nothing like a blaster to make you feel safe.
“Your pockets are heavy, thief.”
Ozz spun around, looking for the source of the voice. “Whosaidthat!” he cried, brandishing one of the discs.
“A denizen of this sacred place,” said the voice from nowhere.
“Oh…oh great, now I’m really going crazy. Amazing. Just ignore it, Ozzie, keep walkin’…”
“Ignoring a thing does not make it go away. Your name is Ozzie?”
“What? No, it’s…Ozzamandes. Hey, I’m not talkin’ to you. You’re just a voice in my head. Guy might look crazy talkin’ to himself like that.”
“I am not a manifestation of insanity, but of the force.”
“Ha, the force! Good one, brain.”
Suddenly, a creature appeared before him, a woman who seemed both there and not there at the same time, who shone with a ghostly blue glow. Ozz froze in place and stared at her, stunned.
She spoke with power and grace, and her face was severe. “A faith is a necessity for a creature, Ozzamandes. Woe to them who believes nothing. Woe to you, for I sense this void...within you.”
Shocked, Ozz’s grip went limp. A disc fell to the floor with a ‘clang’.
“Follow me,” Eefo said. “I will find us a way out of the tunnels.”
Nathan stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second. I want to get out too, but not before we find what we came for.”
Eefo’s face twitched. “Don’t you want to find your friend?”
“Yeah, but he’ll be fine, and ticked off at me if we leave this place with nothing to show for it. Can we still get to the archives after the cave-in?”
Eefo had been caught trying to wiggle out of showing him the archives, and she looked accordingly hateful.
“…Yes,” she spat. “Come, do not lose the way.”
As they walked, Nathan questioned her.
“The Scriptist’s madness, or whatever…he mentioned spirits. That’s just you, right? You’re gaslighting your mentor?”
“The spirits are real. The sabotage is mine, but the drain on his mind…the spirits are real. Dark things.”
This was not exactly the answer Nathan had wanted to hear while spelunking in a pitch-black tunnel.
“Oh, I see,” he said, shining his light behind him and hurrying to catch up.
“So what was your life like around here, huh? See any good holos?”
“As a Jedi scholar, I forbade myself from material pleasures, if that is what you ask.”
“Sheesh, aren’t you a bucket of fun.”
Ozz now continued his journey through the tunnels with the ghost woman at his side.
"You scoff. There is moral grandeur in this, no? The renunciation, the sacrifice this station requires? The self-exile, the remembrance of mortality, the committing of one's spirit to mystery and thought rather than toil?"
"Hah, I'd love to see you tell that to my pops. He loved toil."
"You use the past-tense. Your father is one with the force?"
"He's dead, if that's what you're askin'. We didn't see eye-to-eye, so wouldn't make much of a difference if he wersen't."
“But now you have another family? One of your own?”
“Hah! A family, nah. Just this kid mooching off my ship.”
“You have a child?”
Ozz shook his head, muttering to himself before replying. “No, no. Human’s name is Nathan, we’ve been working together for a few weeks. Can’t stand the guy, honestly. Always going on about safety and stuff. Takes himself too seriously. Got me fired once! For something I didn’t do, I’ll have you know.”
The woman smiled softly. “I sense care in your voice.”
“Pah! You’re hearin’ things too, then.”
“Love finds us in unlikely places. When it crosses our path, we are often slow to embrace it. We deny ourselves the comforts of familial care in order to protect our vulnerable, fragile egos.”
Ozz raised an eyebrow up at her and grimaced. “Geez, you get personal, lady. Bet you were a weirdo as a kid.”
They were stopped by sounds up ahead, strange howls and whispers that seemed to slither by in a tunnel before them. The woman flew in front of Ozz, her expression stern.
“What the keff was that!” Ozz cried, covering his head and looking around for danger.
“Dark spirits. My counterparts. The other side.”
“Well geez, terrible roommates! You just all hang out in the temple together? Just a big spirit party, good and bad?”
“I do not wish it to be this way. Their presence is a desecration.”
“Okay, okay…why don’t you evict ‘em then? You’re all glowly, I bet you could get rid of ‘em.”
“It’s not a question of my power, but of my purpose. I pledged myself in life to study and knowledge, it is not my place to raise hands against evil, but to equip those who do. I put them out of mind, and avoid their distraction.”
“Hm, couldn’t you make, like, an exception?”
She rounded on him, her expression fierce, her eyes wide.
“Does my life sound like one of exceptions, Ozzamandes?”
Ozz shrunk back from the frightful display. “Well, no. No, that’s a good point. But…”
The look on her pale face told him not to continue, but he was never good at listening to warnings.
“Well, you don’t really have a life, anymore. You’re—sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this—but you’re dead, lady.”
“I know this. Don’t insult my intellect.”
“Well then, you did good! You held to your pledges! They were pledges for life, right?”
She looked thoughtful, her brow knit. She said nothing.
“Besides, weren’t you the one that told me…ignoring something doesn’t make it go away?”
The deep archives were once locked behind doors that required power to open, powers neither Nathan nor Eefo had. But time and war wears away all things, this time to Nathan’s benefit. The doors were long since destroyed, and their access unblocked.
It was a narrow hall. Rows and rows of old books, many of them destroyed, lined the shelves.
Eefo gestured forward. “Feast away, you fool.”
Nathan shot her a look. “Kind of unnecessary, but…thank you for bringing me here. Where do I start?”
“Balaam’s Heart? I recommend ‘B’.”
“Oh, it works like that? Huh, I expected something weirder,” he said, and he stepped forward to scan the massive stacks.
Eefo looked on the shelves—the sheer amount of terrible, dangerous knowledge—and at the young man now searching amongst the tomes. Fear clutched at her heart. Her mind went to the blaster under her robes.
“You speak sense. Most unexpected,” the ghostly woman said.
“Oh, nice,” Ozz grunted. “I’ll try not to be offended about how you said that.”
“My apologies. Perhaps, as a spirit, my purpose is something different than what I was bound to in life. Perhaps I must evolve, as my being has evolved. Perhaps I must oppose the dark things here, and purify this temple. Thank you, Ozzamandes, for speaking with me. It has been most enlightening.”
“Sure, sure, any time. Now, I gotta get outta here, any chance…?”
“We have been following that path for some time. I have been leading you to your friends while we talked. They are just ahead.”
Ozz blinked in surprise. “No kidding? You’re alright, lady.”
“Ozzamandes,” she said, and her voice became serious and heartfelt. “Do not deny your care for your friend. You would rob yourself of greater riches than those you carry in your coat.”
Ozz avoided her gaze, nodding vaguely. “Oh, uh, sure, sure. Yeah, thanks for the advice.”
“And Ozzamandes,” she said again.
“What?”
“Please leave behind the things you’ve pilfered from my temple, if you please.”
“Oh,” Ozz blushed, and he casually removed the golden discs from his pockets and dumped them on the floor as gently as he could. “Sure thing, of course.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Farewell, I hope we meet again.”
“Me too, ‘cept I got no plans to come back to this joint. But uh, I’ll see ya when I see ya.”
A fondly amused expression was the last thing on her face before she faded away, and he was left in the dark. A door stood in front of him.
Ozz smiled proudly. “’Most enlightening’…Old Ozzie, who woulda thought!”
Ozz entered the deep archives. The first thing he saw was Eefo, hand on her blaster, and an unaware Nathan. Something in his chest swelled up, and his eyebrows furrowed. She was gonna blast his partner? Not on her life.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” he shouted, and Eefo spun in alarm. She hastily drew her blaster. “Nate, look out!”
Ozz threw himself into the Rodian researcher, knocking both of them to the floor. The blaster went off harmlessly, a bright red bolt striking an ancient tome and completing its transition to nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Nathan ducked and swiveled. He stared at the prone Eefo. A few seconds and he would’ve been toast.
“Woah, woah! Thanks Ozz!” He suddenly grasped that Ozz was here, and grinned widely. “Ozz! You made it!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ozz said, dusting himself off. Eefo looked trapped. “Had some help. I’ll tell ya about it later. Geez, once a spy, always a spy, huh!”
Eefo glared at him defiantly. “You’ll bring ruin to the galaxy!” she said, her voice trembling.
She stood on shaking legs, and occasionally her eyes darted towards the shelves, wide with fear. She was like an animal, and Nathan felt, most of all, pity. He understood what was driving her.
Nathan grabbed Ozz's arm and pulled him aside. He whispered, "Hey, I'm trying to honor what you said on Yavin, I'm telling you before I do something crazy."
Ozz looked at him warily. "...Kid, whatever you're thinking, you better not risk our profit, here. We're in a golden spot with this!"
"No, I'm not okay with how we've done this. Catching spies is one thing, but blackmailing, threatening deserters to get what we want?" He shook his head firmly. "That's not how I want us to do things."
Ozz looked between his eyes, searching for a way to convince him otherwise. There was no chance. He had no choice but to back down.
"That's...another payout lost, kid. I hope you know what you're doing: we need credits! Finding your girl is gonna take credits, you understand?"
"I know, we'll figure it out! I'm sure we can pick up a side job or something, but...I want to let Eefo go free. She's not even a spy anymore."
Ozz threw up his hands. "Have it your way. But you're the least lucrative partner I've ever had."
"This pays off in other ways, Ozz.” He turned back to the Rodian, approaching her cautiously.
“Hey, I’m not mad that you wanted to shoot me, alright? It’s…well, it’s not okay, Eefo. But I get it.” He stepped forward, and she flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her. “We’re going to let you go free. You don’t have to worry about us leaking anything, or telling anyone where you are, okay?”
Eefo raised a brow skeptically. She waited for him to continue.
“Now, I know you think what we’re doing is wrong. But…I wish you could trust me. My intentions are nothing but good, I swear. You’re right that this is dangerous stuff. The Empire is looking for it, and I can’t leave whether they find it or not up to chance. Please, you don’t have to agree, but…don’t shoot me?”
She met his gaze, and gradually seemed to calm. Her eyebrow still twinged in frustration, but she sighed, and the fight had left her.
“Yes. Alright.”
“Great,” Nathan nodded. “Ozz, help me find this book!”
Ozz was already by the stacks, and held up an old pile of slates bound together with rope. “Was it ‘Balaam’?”
“Yeah, why—“
“Here ya go.”
He passed the slates to Nathan. Sure enough, Balaam’s name was on them.
“No way,” Nathan said, staring. “Ozz, thank you!”
“No problem,” he shrugged, unaware of his partners efforts to do what he’d just done in one glance.
“We’ve got what we needed. Let’s go see sunlight again, huh?”
Eefo led them back through the tunnels until they found the staircase they’d originally descended. They were cheered to see the light flooding through the open archways of the temple doors. Cold wind filled their ears as they crossed the old atrium floor and ventured out into the open air.
They gasped in horror when they saw the sky.
An Imperial Light Cruiser lay in the upper atmosphere. A small, white shape was gliding down towards them; a shuttle.
“Aw, hell,” Ozz grunted, slumping hopelessly.
“No!” Eefo screamed. “No! They’re coming for the temple!”
Nathan blanched, and held Balaam’s slates tightly under his arm. “We’ve got to get out of here. We can’t fight that thing.”
“The temple is bad enough, but we must not lead them to the Searchers! The unencrypted archives, the research, they cannot be allowed to have it!”
His jaw firmly set, Nathan made a decision. “Ride back to the outpost, I’ll hold them here.”
“Kid,” Ozz said weakly. “What the keff are you gonna do?”
A plan was formulating in his mind. Nathan approached the small conductor Eefo had planted in the ground when they’d arrived.
“Eefo, show me how to work this thing. Then you both go, get to safety!”
“Hey, kid,” Ozz said, his tone full of worry in a way Nathan had never heard.
“Yeah?”
“We’re gonna come back for you. Just hold out, okay? Trust in the…the force, or whatever. You better be alive when I get here.”
“I’ll do my best,” Nathan shrugged. “Chances aren’t great.”
A grin broke on Ozz’s face. “Oy, bring back the optimism. You’re downright depressing, you know that?”
“I’ll bring back the optimism when we make some money, how about that.”
“Oh, so never.”
“Well, never say never!”
“Ha! There it is,” Ozz grinned. He patted Nathan on the side. “Take care, kid. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Geez, what’s gotten into you?”
“Oh, shut up. I dunno, had some time to think while I was in those tunnels. Anyway, enough dwaddling! Let’s get this show on the road!”
“Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, Ozz.”
A few minutes later, Ozz and Eefo sped back towards camp, Balaam’s slates in hand.
Alone at the entrance to the temple, Nathan waited for the shuttle to touch down.