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Minolta CLE,
Leica 40mm f2.0 Summicron-C,
Kodak TriX ISO 400,
Kodak TMax developer 1+4 for 6 min at 20C,
Scanned at 3200 dpi using Epson F-3200 scanner,
Processed in CS3.
View the Entire - Natural Eye Set
View the Entire - New Mexico Set
View the Entire - Black and White Set
View my - Most Interesting according to Flickr
Passage, November 17-20, 2022, McClintock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
This is a possible entry for Week 25, Assignment 2 for Take A Class With Dave and Dave.
The color Red. As suggested in the official Assignments Sugggestion Thread by FadderUri, we've seen blue and green, but never red! Red is a very powerful color, a little bit may go a looong way. Passionate and hot, this color can speak volumes.
Today Annie Ann and I went to Rocks State Park to the Falling Branch area to see the Kilgore Rocks Waterfall. The last time I was there was back in March and things were the same, just a lot greener.
Annie had never been here and when she mentioned wanting to go, I jumped at another chance or rather a reason to go back. It's a pretty area, as long as you get there early. It is apparently quite a popular spot for those than know it is there. I know *boheme*'s sister was there a few weeks ago, and I learned of them from Pi C.
At about noon it starts getting a bit crowded and there are too many people all over getting in the way of shots (well shots without people that is) so you have to get there a bit early if you want a nice shot.
This lad was pretty proficient on his board, he was practising amongst the monumental architecture of Castlefield's industrial past.
If confirmed, I have spotted a nova in M31.
www.cbat.eps.harvard.edu/unconf/followups/J00425895+41262...
I attach an image for your website.
Regards,
George
Chewbeads recalls pacifier clips due to possible choking hazard
A New York-based company that sells non-toxic jewelry for moms has recalled more than 45,000 pacifier clips in the United States and Canada due to a possible choking hazard. According to the Consumer Product Safety Commission, the...
tsceleb.com/chewbeads-recalls-pacifier-clips-due-to-possi...
Passage, November 17-20, 2022, McClintock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
Made with (almost) a full possum pelt. I was going to put the tail on it, but general consensus was that wasn't going to look good. 11" x 8" x 2"
Lined and backed with red toile; amazonite beads for eyes. Strap is braided hemp cord with jade beads and bamboo toggles. I'm going to redo the straps, make the new ones out of the toile with red buttons for toggles.
Passage, November 17-20, 2022, McClintock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
On May 16, 2019, the Eugene Applebaum College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences brought together outstanding student scholarship award winners in pharmacy and the generous donors who helped make their achievements possible.
Clammer: Pre-evolution of Shellder
Sevipontfive: Mid-evolution between Vulpix and Ninetales
Wattarolle: Evolution of Electrode
When I took the photo there was nothing in the sky. Look in the top left corner. Taken at Rosevears on the river Tamar, Tasmania.
Marichyasana A:
- foot active
- square hips
- square shoulders (if possible)
- try to get the shoulder past the knee
- binding is not important but can be helped
- straight back (can use leg)
So I'm thinking about driving cross-country in September.. This is my possible route thus far. Where else should I go?
"Artists 4 Israel is the first and only offensive, coordinated and direct response to the cultural war against the arts masquerading as an attack on Israel. Rather than play defense, refuting their attacks and misinformation, Artists 4 Israel is creating our own narrative, supporting non--Jewish artists in the creation of positive Israel messaging that is credible and adaptable to the widest possible audience."
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"Email Newsletters for Nonprofits" at the The California Endowment in Fresno, California.
Made Possible by the California Consumer Protection Foundation.
Possible tour stop for the MNSAF 2008 winter meeting. The stand is on the west side of University Road, just north of Moorhead Rd.
we, the invisibles, November 10-20, 2022, Scene Dock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
My friend Bryan Combs drew this. I asked him for a pearl in an oyster and he came up with this. sheeeeeshhh - artist!
So if you can't tell it's an oyster with a rose and a pearl necklace. If i got this it would be on the inside of my right arm. Pearl hates flowers on tattoos. She just doesn't appreciate classic 50's style art.
"The Possible Mediums conference is composed of a series of workshops and panel discussions revolving around four “possible mediums.” Challenging the boundaries of architectural convention, the invited workshop leaders employ exploratory processes rooted in mediums external to the discipline (such as film or comics) or developed from atypical applications of more conventional mediums (such as drawings or models). The technical sophistication and inventive applications of their work reflect two major developments within speculative architecture of the past decade: a broad diffusion of technological expertise and a shift from critical to projective theory. Preserving commitment to expertise and imagination, Possible Mediums places this group of designers in productive dialog, unpacking their collective foundations and futures."
Taken from: possiblemediums.wordpress.com
Photos by Dorimar del Río
This is an image taken along the creek by my apartment a few days ago. In the distance is what I believe to be a limpkin (Aramus guarauna) or some kind of crane. Limpkins (as well as cranes) are an example of an organism with an altricial type parental investment, as their young are born helpless and require attention from parents in order to survive. Energy and resources are spent caring for the young for a longer period of time.
Source(s):
"Limpkin." All About Birds. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Cornell University. www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Limpkin/overview
Passage, November 17-20, 2022, McClintock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
Badbury Clump, near Faringdon, Oxfordshire.
HINGEFINKLE'S LOGBOOK (Thirteenth Instalment)
Notes on the Building of a Meistersinger’s Library
Reason and experimentation suggest that darkness is, under normal conditions, merely the absence of light. Were this not so, it ought to be possible to invent a beam of darkness which would extinguish light, just as the glow from a lantern banishes the shadows - but Gladys Sparkbright informs me that such a thing cannot be done. And if Gladys says that a thing is impossible - why - who am I to quibble?
You will imagine our alarm, therefore, on discovering that the darkness in the Wild Lands defied all previous definitions: it was, indeed, a tangible thing. It seemed to have a life - nay, perhaps even a mind - of its own, its probing fingers disrupting the light from our lanterns, and sometimes brushing against our eyes and bringing momentary blindness. I have never seen anything like it before or since; it was not natural, my dear little Alias - not natural at all. Trees can, I admit, cast shadows which may play havoc with a fevered imagination, but no other wood, in my experience, is so bereft of light as that of the Wild Lands. Take a walk in the Bluebell Wood, and you will see what I mean. The bluebells are there, of course, because they taste horrible, and deer and unicorns do not like to eat them - but they are also there because dappled light filters through the canopy even when the trees are in full leaf. Besides, there are elves in the Bluebell Wood, as one would expect; there are no elves in the Wild Lands, and, since the wodehouse is so elusive, I can hardly say that I blame them for avoiding the place.
Why then do I insist that when you are older, you must overcome your fear and, equipped with my map of the Environs of the Harp River, wander deep into the Wild Lands, braving the sinister blackness? Because, my dear boy, there comes a point on that arduous journey when the curling tendrils of gloom suddenly disappear, and one finds oneself walking, or even skipping, down sunny, flower-laden pathways - as Gladys and I did one late summer afternoon. Just as there is something unnatural in the darkness, so there is something magical in those sun-filled glades, and in the distant rushing of the pure and undefiled Harp River. It is there that you will find the Meistersinger’s Hall, and your heart will be sore to leave it. And in that place, deep underground, you will find a structure which ought to be named one of the Wonders of the World - and all because of Gladys Sparkbright.
Do not let me mislead you. I have said already that there are no elves in the Wild Lands. But in that little enchanted pocket of land on the southern bank of the Harp River, there are elves - oh, yes indeed, and other people of every imaginable size, shape and form. But I am getting ahead of myself, and I suppose I should begin my tale at the beginning, since that is the logical place to start.
“In the name of Miranda, Queen of the Elves, who goes there?” said a voice as we stepped into the clearing. There was something of the ringing of bells to it, and I looked up in surprise, losing track of the butterfly I had been chasing with Gladys Sparkbright’s short-range telescope.
“Eeee,” said Gladys with satisfaction. “Ah think we’ve found t’place! This ‘ere be ‘Ingefinkle - a dab ‘and at ahdentifyin’ monsters, ‘e is - an’ ah’d be Gladys Sparkbright, inventor, offerin’ mah service!”
A little black-haired girl stepped from behind a rose-bush, and surveyed us keenly with her deep-brown eyes wide open. “Why - visitors! And brave ones you must be, too, to have come through the Wild Lands. Well met!” she smiled, offering a delicate little hand.
“Hum,” I said, “and who might you be, I wonder?”
“I am the Meistersinger’s Librarian,” said the little girl. Had another child said such a thing, I should have called her precocious, but coming from her young elvish lips, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
“Eee, by gum!” cried Gladys excitedly. “So tha‘ast got a library!”
“Well -” said the girl hesitantly, “not exactly, no. We have the books, right enough - but nowhere to put them. At the moment, they are kept in wooden boxes in all the houses in our village. Even the Meistersinger has boxes of books in his house, but sometimes he sits on them and breaks them. It’s not good for the books - not good at all - to be sat on by the Meistersinger.”
“I see,” I said, casting an intrigued glance at Gladys, who was quivering with excitement and fiddling with the buttons of her cardigan, “perhaps you could take us to see this Meistersinger fellow?”
“Well, I would,” said the girl with a cheeky smile, “but I’m afraid he’s asleep just now. He held one of his parties last night, and -”
“Hum, yes. But perhaps we could wait for him. Is there a public house in the village?”
“Well, of course there is,” frowned the girl. “It wouldn’t be a village without one, would it? What a silly question!” And with that, she led us down a street of half constructed timber-framed houses, with walls of white-painted wattle and daub, and stopped at the one completed building - an admirable inn with a thatched roof, and tantalising smells coming from the kitchen window.
“Now ‘ang on a minute,” said Gladys as I left my luggage with the landlord. “Ah’m not abaht ter put me feet up - not when thar’s a libr’y as wants buildin’! Canst tha not tek us to whoever’s in charge o’t’ construction, young lass?”
“Ah!” smiled the girl, leading us out of the inn and down another half-constructed street. “Offering to help, are you? Well, you’ll be wanting to talk to the Dwarfs, then. They’re in charge of the operation. The Meistersinger says he wants an underground library - that’s the fashion these days, you know - and of course the Dwarfs are just the people for it. But the Head Dwarf is also out-of-sorts today. No doubt he has left someone else in charge.”
At the end of the street, there was a large hole in the ground, and at its side stood one of the most extraordinary young teenagers I have ever seen. On her head there sat a highly polished steel helmet which, for some unaccountable reason, had cow horns sticking out of the top of it. Two plaits of blonde hair poked out the bottom, tied with rough cord. Her clothing was scanty to say the least, but what there was of it appeared to be made of metal. She was brandishing a large pick in her hand, and swinging it back and forth like a battle-axe, and as we approached, she leapt into the pit with a raucous cry of “Hack und dice!” There was a loud ringing of metal on stone, and a cloud of dust rose slowly from the hole. Suddenly the noise stopped, and I heard the clatter of the pick-handle against the floor of the pit.
“Vot ist zis pick made of?” bawled the young lady, still invisible beneath the rim of the hole. “I am thinkingk zat it ist made of zer butter from zer Meistersinger’s favourite cow. Look at zat! Blunt as zer baby’s bottom!” The top of her helmet reappeared at ground level, and she hauled herself out of the pit, her biceps bulging. She rubbed the rock-dust from her eyes and stared at us suspiciously. “Vot are you wantingk now, clever little elf vit zer pointingk ears?” she demanded, ignoring Gladys and myself, and addressing the Meistersinger’s Librarian with a touch of exasperation in her voice.
“This is Gladys, and this is Hingefinkle,” said the elvish girl, unruffled by the brusqueness of the Dwarf’s question. “May I introduce Helga, here on apprenticeship-exchange from Norvay.”
“Ya,” said Helga. “Zer stone in zis place ist not like zer ice in Norvay. Venever I hit it vit mine pick, zer vibrations go all zer vay from mine helmet to mine boots. Give me zer caves of Hygelac any day!” She wiped the sweat from her brow, and gloomily surveyed the blade of her pick.
“Eeee,” said Gladys Sparkbright. “Tha’ll never cut stone wit’ that! That thare pick be made o’ bronze! Tha might as well try an’ cut granite wit’ a kipper!”
The girl with the helmet and the big muscles eyed Gladys suspiciously. “Vot are you talkingk about? Haff you ein better suggestion?”
Gladys did not answer, but hurried to the edge of the hole and clambered down the side. Helga paced back and forth, muttering, “Zese elfs und gnomes haff no idea!”, and the Meistersinger’s Librarian craned her neck over the side of the excavations, trying to see what Gladys was doing. At last, Gladys re-emerged, clapping the dust from her hands and blowing her cheeks out happily.
“Vell?” demanded Helga, leaning on her pick.
“Raht,” grinned Gladys. “If tha duzzne mind, ah’d lahke yer all ter tek cover behind that thare boulder.”
The Librarian shrugged her shoulders and did as she was instructed. Helga cast a scornful look at Gladys and, evidently deciding to humour this diminutive eccentric, she too wandered off behind the boulder, while Gladys dragged me along by the arm.
Gladys pulled something white and fluffy from her little black bag. “Now,” she said, “bung some o’ this dahn yer lug-holes!”
We did as we were instructed, and when Gladys was satisfied, she peered over the top of the boulder and clapped her hands.
*
“Vot in zer name of Odin voz zat?” enquired Helga, staggering from behind the boulder when the ground had stopped shaking and the dust had cleared.
“Oh,” said Gladys nonchalantly, “Nowt but a wee explosion. Tha’ll be raht as rain once yer ‘ead stops ringin’.” She scurried to the edge of the hole, which was now littered with pieces of rock, and peered excitedly over the side. “Aye, now that’s a start!”
The Librarian, Helga and I exchanged confused glances and hurried to Gladys’s side, and all of us gasped to discover that the hole was now three times as deep, and the sides perfectly symmetrical.
“Oh, ya!” said Helga enthusiastically. “Now zat ist vot I call fast vork! I am thinkingk zat zis ist zer beginningk of ein long friendship!” She clapped Gladys so hard on the shoulder that the poor Gnome only narrowly avoided falling down the shaft.
And so, Gladys Sparkbright and Helga of Norvay set to work on the Meistersinger’s Library with such enthusiasm that the whole village shook, and two of the half-constructed houses fell down. (To do Gladys justice, I must add that she remarked that this was proof that the houses had not been planned properly in the first place, and she very willingly offered her services in their reconstruction.) Soon, a noisy gaggle of villagers had congregated around the construction site, and they pointed excitedly down the hole and talked at the tops of their voices about the cleverness of Gnomes and the industriousness of Dwarfs.
“Now then, young lad,” said a voice from behind me, “Ah want ter know wot all this ‘ere commotion is abaht.” I recoiled with surprise, for the accent was that of Gladys Sparkbright, but the voice deep and sonorous. I turned to see the Meistersinger himself - there could be no doubt of it - and he was quite the widest young fellow I have ever seen.
“Hum,” I said, shaking the Meistersinger’s pudgy hand. I could not help noticing that his belly wobbled in unison with the handshake. “My friend Gladys has taken it upon herself to excavate your Library - with Helga’s permission, naturally, and -”
“Gladys? Gladys? Eeee tha duzzne mean the Gladys Sparkbright, duss tha? Well, ah’ll be!” he cried, peering into the hole. At that moment, Gladys Sparkbright emerged from another cloud of dust, and, peering over her spectacles (the lenses of which were now quite opaque), she chuckled and cast herself into the Meistersinger’s massive arms.
*
“Well, tha couldder knocked me dahn wit’ a feather!” said the Meistersinger later that evening, when the sun had gone down, and we sat on top of the wooden book-boxes in his own entertaining hall, peering at Gladys’s hastily-drafted plans of the new Library, “ter think ah’d be meetin’ wit’ you - an’ ‘ere of all places!” He raised his glass in a silent toast to Gladys Sparkbright, engineer.
“Ya, und I am thinkingk zat zer explosions are zer vay of zer future,” added Helga, her cheeks glowing as she helped herself to more of the Meistersinger’s finest mead.
“Hum,” I said doubtfully. “In Gladys’s hands they are certainly rather useful, but they are not a thing to be taken lightly.”
Gladys gazed wistfully at the bottom of her glass. “Aye, well,” she said at last, “Ah’ve ‘ad enough o’ gallivantin’ arahnd fer a while. Ah don’t suppose yer’d be interested in ‘avin’ an inventor arahnd, full tahme, lahke?”
The Meistersinger let forth a loud guffaw. “Tha duzzne mean tha wants ter stay ‘ere, duss tha? Tha’d be very welcome, so tha wouldst, provided tha canst put up wit’ t’darkness o’th Wild Lands.”
Gladys sighed, and cast her eyes in the direction of her latest explosive experiment. “Aye, well. Darkness comes in all shapes an’ forms - an’ t’darkness ‘ere canna be worse than t’darkness in some people’s hearts.” She clapped some dust from her hands and tugged thoughtfully on the buttons of her cardigan. “Now,” she continued, “Ah’ll be needin’ somewhere ter set up me workshop.”
The Meistersinger looked doubtful. “Well now, Ah’m not sure we’d ‘ave t’materials fer buildin’ one o’ your workshops -”
“Oh, tha duzzne need ter worry yerself abaht that,” replied Gladys briskly. She untied her little black drawstring bag from her belt. “Everythin’ Ah’ll be needin’s in ‘ere.”
“Hum,” I mused. “That bag of yours has been flummoxing me for the entire journey -”
“Nay,” said Gladys dismissively, with a wave of her arm. “Thar’s nowt to it - just a wee experiment i’t’ parabolic. Ah got t’ idea from mah friend Simon the Mathematician.”
Now don’t ask me, my dear little Alias, who this Simon the Mathematician was. Some things are destined, I fear, ever to remain mysteries. Suffice it to say that he must be a rather clever sort of a fellow - if, at any rate, the principles underlying the function of Gladys Sparkbright’s little black bag are anything to go by. I must confess that I was feeling a little the worse for wear the next morning, perhaps because my attention had been diverted from the mead to the best medicinal brandy, when Gladys pulled me out of bed, insisted that I dress hurriedly, and marched ahead of me up the Harp River. Indeed, when we arrived at our destination some twenty minutes later, I fear my first impression was that I must be hallucinating. There it was: the same impossibly higgledy-piggledy tower made of bits of wood and metal and pieces of knotted string; the same spiral staircase running down the side of it; and, to my delight, the same mechanical potted geranium on the doorstep.
“Hum,” I said, feigning nonchalance and failing. “Have you been working at this all night, Gladys?”
“Nay,” replied Gladys, absentmindedly opening her pocket-watch. “Ah put in a few hours on t’ blueprints fer t’ lahbrary conveyor belt too. Ah must show yer -” She stopped, and one eyebrow shot upwards in surprise, “Mah goodness, it’s later than Ah thought! Ah’m workin’ more slowly in me old age!” She adjusted the knitting needles in her hair, and a grey lock dropped over her face. She squinted at me over the frame of her spectacles. “Well, thar’s no use standin’ arahnd out ‘ere talkin’ abaht it. It’s already tahme.”
“Hum. Time? Time for what, Gladys?”
“Eeee - whadderyer think, ‘Ingefinkle, yer daft owd bugger?” she replied, slapping me upon the small of my back. “It’s tahme fer a nahce ‘ot cup o’ tea, that’s what!”
There are a lot of these reedy grassy things around Weymouth.
This one happened to be flapping around so I papped it. It's quite pretty but at the same time kinda meh.
Nice sunset though.
we, the invisibles, November 10-20, 2022, Scene Dock Theatre. ©2022 Photos by Brian Feinzimer/Capture Imaging for the USC School of Dramatic Arts.
We can certainly use all as many volunteers as possible of all ages and abilities and we look forward to the possibility of working with you! We are all aware of the importance the health of the Chesapeake Bay hold to all Maryland Residents. Please help clean up the historic shoreline of Bear Creek and Chalesmont Park where both the British and American set up defensive positions during the War of 1812, Battle of North Point. The British also used this location to evacuate their wounded and POW’s. Charlesmont Park was also the location were the Veterans of the War of 1812 celebrated Defender’s Day for over 75 years!
We will also be cleaning up the trash around Bear Creek Elementary, General John Stricker Middle and Charlesmont Elementary Schools!
This event will be run in conjunction with American Rivers, Trash Free Maryland, National Public Lands Day and the Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay as part of annual Project Clean Stream Event.
Please join us on April 22, 2017 as we cleanup this historic shoreline. Registration will be located at the intersection of Park Haven and Gray Haven Road (Near Bear Creek Elementary School), Dundalk, MD 21222. Looks for the registration tents and the “Clean Bread and Cheese Creek Banners. Registration will open at 8:00 am, and the cleanup will run from 9:00 am – 2:00 pm. We have also included a flyer for this cleanup for your use.
We run our cleanups as a family event with plenty of ways for volunteers to participate. We welcome every type of person of every ability level to contribute and assist with the cleanup. Though it is true we will need people to dig out shopping carts and haul trash to the dumpsters, we need people to run water, food, tools, and trash bags (both empty and full) to individuals in the creek. People to sort recyclables from the debris removed. People will be needed to help at registration, setup food and snacks as well as many other less strenuous activities. We are also authorized to sign-off on Community Service and Service Learning Hours for students. The more people we have, the easier the work will be for everyone. We will provide lunch and snacks as well as gloves. A limited number of tools are available for sign-out, but suggest bringing your own if you have them
Volunteers are also needed to arrive early and stay late for setup and break down. Photographers and Videographers also needed!
This picture shows my interpretation of an ancient African mask. Normally, these masks are simply made out of wood and and are painted with very opaque colors, or even sometimes not even painted at all. My characters are meant to bring joy, to make people smile, it is for this reason that i decided to include as many colors as i could, and make sure that the mask looked as happy as possible.
New Jersey State Troopers distributed approximately 560 coats to students of the Elizabeth Public Schools, during their 7th Annual Coat Drive on January 18th and 19th.
The donations, collections and distribution of coats to our student's were made possible through the tremendous assistance and collaboration with: Elizabeth Public Schools team members, Wakefern, Elizabeth Police and Fire Department, Hispanic Law Enforcement Association of Union County (HLEAUC), New Jersey Latin-American Trooper's Society (NJLATS), At Heart's Length, Pepsi, Cummins, Target of Linden and Mario's Pizzeria of Perth Amboy, along with community friends and families. Retail companies that assisted with the coat drive included: Target located at Aviation Plaza in Linden, Macy's and Sears of Woodbridge Center Mall located in Woodbridge and BJ's located in Edison.
The annual community outreach event is reflective of the efforts Troopers make throughout the year, to have a significant and memorable impact on the communities they serve.
Once again, the heartfelt generosity of the New Jersey State Troopers and their partners, will help ensure Elizabeth Public Schools students stay warm during this especially cold winter season.