View allAll Photos Tagged provocation
The Robin is a year round resident in the UK, but a small minority of female Robins migrate to southern Europe during winter, a few as far as Spain. Both the male and female feature similar plumage, both with the distinctive red breast. The male bird is extremely territorial and will aggressively defend his territory, attacking any similar sized birds that try to muscle in on their patch.
The adult European robin is 12cm long and weighs between 15 to 22 g with a wingspan of 20–22 cm . The male and female bear similar plumage; an orange breast and face lined by a bluish grey on the sides of the neck and chest. The upperparts are brownish, or olive-tinged in British birds, and the belly whitish, while the legs and feet are brown. The bill and eyes are black. Juveniles are a spotted brown and white in colouration, with patches of orange gradually appearing. Male robins are noted for their highly aggressive territorial behaviour. They will fiercely attack other males and competitors that stray into their territories and have been observed attacking other small birds without apparent provocation. There are instances of robins attacking their own reflection. Territorial disputes sometimes lead to fatalities, accounting for up to 10% of adult robin deaths in some areas
Four-month-old siblings anxiously hide in plain sight behind a tree while mom chases off a rival female that has wondered nearby. They have not tried to climb the tree, yet, but they have checked it out and glance upward every few seconds. At their mother’s earliest provocation, they will clamor quickly up the tree and to relative safety. They don’t take their eye off her, watching her every move and waiting for her to return to their side. She is their lifeline and the only thing, living or otherwise, that they trust. #BlackBears
Gdańsk was the last Polish city we visited last summer. The city dates to the tenth century or so, and long served as a vital trading port between central Europe and the Baltic Sea, on which it is located. The strategic location of the city meant that it was contested and changed hands numerous times over the centuries, being sometimes part of Pomeranian, Polish, Teutonic, Prussian or German kingdoms/states, with German speakers referring to the city as Danzig.
Following WWI and the Treaty of Versailles, Gdańsk/Danzig became the "Free City of Danzig," a semi-autonomous city-state under the oversight of the League of Nations. The Treaty also acknowledged the re-establishment of the Polish state, which had been erased from the map after Austria, Russia, and Prussia partitioned it in the late 18th century. In 1919, Danzig had a mostly German population, but to ensure Polish access to the Baltic, the Treaty guaranteed Poland certain rights to trade, transport, and communication through the city, despite its semi-autonomy
Polish prerogatives in Danzig were one of the many pretexts Hitler seized upon to justify his plans for expansion, and it was here that in 1939 the Second World War began. After France and Britain stood by during a series of other annexations and provocations from Nazi Germany, they finally decided to draw a line against further aggression by signing defense pacts with Poland, from which Hitler was demanding various concessions, including giving up its rights in Danzig. When Poland refused, German forces attacked Polish troops and postal workers in Danzig and began a general invasion of Poland.
Seventeen days later the Soviets invaded as well, Hitler and Stalin having previously agreed to a division of Poland between them. Britain and France technically joined the war against Germany, but they did not respond militarily in time to make any difference to Poland. As a result, German-occupied areas of Poland were ironically "liberated" by Soviet forces after Hitler turned on his erstwhile ally, and Poland did not really regain its independence until 1989.
Today, Gdańsk's historical center--which was essentially flattened during the war--has been rebuilt and restored into something truly gorgeous. I'd say that it is probably the most photogenic city we visited in Poland, though its attractiveness is such that it is also the only city in Poland which I would judge to be markedly overtouristed.
The Motława River in Gdańsk, Poland.
A textured construction wall in the docklands, if you stare long enough, patterns and shapes emerge.
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One of many ongoing approaches, where I move through the world as a harvester of images stumbling, strolling, lurching, equal parts accidental, and intentional. My concerns circumnavigate around questions that resist easy answers: time as texture, presence as performance, possibility as glitch. I trace the contours of decay and growth, hope and entropy, searching for the quiet collisions where meaning might emerge. Each image is less a document than a provocation an invitation to reconsider what we 'see', and what we ignore.
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Blog | Tumblr | Website | pixelfed.au | Instagram | Photography links | my Ko-fi shop | Off Ya Trolley! | s2z digital garden | vero | Dpreview albums | my work archived on trove at the National Library of Australia. | reddit
Golden Plover / pluvialis aoricararia. Titchwell, Norfolk. 23/10/21.
Huge numbers of Golden Plover at Titchwell resting on small muddy islands and taking flight readily at the slightest provocation! Occasionally, one would break free from the main group, like this one who shared time with a larger plover cousin!
BEST VIEWED LARGE.
The Robin is a year round resident in the UK, but a small minority of female Robins migrate to southern Europe during winter, a few as far as Spain. Both the male and female feature similar plumage, both with the distinctive red breast. The male bird is extremely territorial and will aggressively defend his territory, attacking any similar sized birds that try to muscle in on their patch.
The adult European robin is 12cm long and weighs between 15 to 22 g with a wingspan of 20–22 cm . The male and female bear similar plumage; an orange breast and face lined by a bluish grey on the sides of the neck and chest. The upperparts are brownish, or olive-tinged in British birds, and the belly whitish, while the legs and feet are brown. The bill and eyes are black. Juveniles are a spotted brown and white in colouration, with patches of orange gradually appearing. Male robins are noted for their highly aggressive territorial behaviour. They will fiercely attack other males and competitors that stray into their territories and have been observed attacking other small birds without apparent provocation. There are instances of robins attacking their own reflection. Territorial disputes sometimes lead to fatalities, accounting for up to 10% of adult robin deaths in some areas
Previously in Chapter 6 The Two Societies
This piece gave me the title to this chapter and was what I listened to much of the time when writing. It perfectly sets the tone for these scenes and the events that take place in our story.
⚜️The voyage had been long, just as Tabitha Kinkade had predicted. And while not terribly eventful overall, there was one mystery that troubled them throughout their journey. Quite often they were watched by an ominous, dark figure. A man in a dark, hooded cloak. He always kept his distance, holding to the shadows. And while he never approached, he loomed over them the entire trip. At one point, Prince Jelani grew tired of the enigma and decided to confront the man. However, Tabitha advised caution, as situations such as these would usually reveal themselves in time. Tabitha had learned long ago in her training, that without provocation most things or people that lingered around her, would eventually proclaim their identity. And if provoked they might flee or be lost, which could result in a costly delay. Besides, he'd done nothing thus far that would warrant a confrontation. And so, they would allow circumstances to run their course.
⚜️Once safely landed at the port in Calcutta both Tabitha and Lexington needed a warm bath and some much-needed rest away from the constant bumping ride of the ship's cabins. One of their porters was from Algeria and spoke Tamazight, a native tongue of the Berber people. It was obvious that Lexington was delighted to talk to someone from his native lands, which made Tabitha smile watching her friend speak in a language she had not heard for so long.
⚜️When the two travelers finally arrived at their hotel, both Tabitha's and Lexington's multilingual skills came into play when dealing with her pets and the porter's fears. Tabitha had taken just two of her wolves on the journey, Rolf and Kiva, as they were natural mates. Neither offered any hostility toward the porters or anyone else for that matter without Tabitha's command. However, aside from their daily walks on board the ship, they'd spent a great deal of time in their cages and were quite restless. Fortunately, with some gentle persuading, they were able to calm the porters and settle into their rooms.
⚜️The next morning was Easter. It was Sunday and their contact from the Cathedral of the Most Holy Rosary had sent a carriage to pick them up for services.
"We're to attend the Christian services, my lady?" Lexington inquired as he held his hand to help her into the carriage.
Tabitha grinned politely before answering him with a lofty and nonchalant demeanor, as was her custom when jesting with her friend,
"But of course, Dear Lexington. It's Easter! You didn't believe we were going to escape services today of all days, did you?"
At which point, she patted the seat next to her in the carriage.
"Now, come along."
Lexington's grumbling, as the rickety carriage made its way along the bustling streets of Calcutta, nearly made her laugh aloud as they rode toward the church. Not having the heart to tease him farther, she looked over at the handsome Berber while placing her gloved hands around his arm.
"Dear Lex, I've gone too far this time."
At which time she did laugh.
"The look on your face.... oh, dear Lexington, I adore you so!"
Lexington began to smile a little himself watching Tabitha giggle then asked. "What has brought this on my lady?"
Tabitha finally composed herself and assured him that she didn't expect him to attend the Easter services at the church as it was not his faith. While Catholic herself, she nor her parents had ever forced Lexington into their religious beliefs. They believed the workings of the soul were God's work.
Lexington breathed a sigh of relief at the news but in the end decided to attend anyway, out of respect for Tabitha and for their host.
⚜️Father Thomas Haskell was a lean man in his sixties. His bald head looked slick and shiny in the bright sun and his white hair gleamed. When he shook Tabitha's hand, she felt how rough and callused they were, and his skin was leathery tan. It was obvious Father Haskell spent much of his time in the gardens around the church. He wore the traditional robes of a parish priest and as with most Catholic holy men of that day, he appeared humble and somewhat trite. After introductions were made, he did not hesitate to reveal to the duo that he not only believed in the evil beings that scoured the earth but were unfeigned in his support of the Shadowhunters.
"You and your kind my dear are destined to rid the world of these heinous creatures. I am at your disposal of course."
As the bells of the church rang and the church doors began to open the priest looked at the church and then smiled when he turned back toward his guest.
"It is a delight to have you both visit us this morning and if you'll forgive me Lady Kindake I must attend to my flock. Services are about to begin, and I am expected inside. I've reserved seats for you both, won't you follow me."
Tabitha nodded and smiled as did Lexington
"Of course, Father Haskell," she responded.
And with that, they both followed the priest toward the grand doors that opened to the church's foyer.
As they approached, both Tabitha and Lexington noticed a striking man standing near a fountain. His hair was dark as a raven's wing and his equally dark beard was neatly trimmed. He wore a very smart-looking cutaway coat and silk vest that gave away his social status and as the man began to walk in their direction Tabitha could see that he was of average height and appeared to be in his peak years. She also noted how mysterious and mesmerizing his eyes were, and it was at that moment a commotion could be heard at the entrance to the church which caught all their attention.
Father Haskell began to walk faster and broke into a run with Tabitha and Lexington close behind him. When they reached the onlookers, the priest was determined, but not overly aggressive as he made his way through the congregation that had gathered there. Once through the crowd, Tabitha was surprised to see that the mysterious man she'd noticed outside was already just inside the large doorway. Lexington reached to touch her arm quietly, his way of letting her know he'd noticed as well. Turning quickly to rejoin the priest, they were greeted with the most morbid sight. At the top of the staircase, hanging from her neck, and high into the massive, vaulted ceiling was a young woman. Her face, though discolored and contorted was still beautiful as her lifeless body swung several feet above the top of the staircase.
Wanting desperately to help, Lexington started to climb the staircase but quickly came back to his senses realizing the poor woman's body was well out of reach. Looking over at Father Haskell, Tabitha watched as he moved his hand over his chest making the sign of the cross. His eyes were filled with dread and tears as he gazed up at the woman's corpse. She thought he might be in shock as she walked over to him.
"Father! Father Haskell!"
Shaking his head, he looked at Tabitha and then back at the woman's corpse.
"Dear God, whatever shall we do?!"
Tabitha motioned for Lex to join her and as he approached, she responded.
"This is your church Father and your congregation. They're depending on you. I'd suggest you postpone services this morning or at least move them to another location as quickly as possible."
Father Haskell nodded, still bewildered when he gazed back up at the woman's body hanging there, but when he looked back at them both again, he appeared to be himself.
"Quite right Lady Kinkade. We can set up chairs and move services to the garden."
Lexington looked back up at the girl's body and then back to Tabitha.
"My lady, the local authorities will be here soon. I'd suggest, well, if Father Haskell would allow us to represent the church in this matter, we could begin an investigation."
Tabitha looked at the girl again then back at Father Haskell.
"Father, do you know this woman?"
He nodded as he answered.
"Yes, she came to me about a week ago, she told me she was having nightmares, very vivid nightmares that were very real to her."
Tabitha and Lex looked at each other then back at the priest.
"She said she'd been sleepwalking as well. I.. well, I just can't think. I must get this situation under control!"
Tabitha nodded, reaching to hold the priest’s hands. "That's quite alright Father. From what you've told us this young woman may hold clues to the mystery that's brought us to Calcutta and you. Will you allow us to represent the church and aid you?"
Father Haskell nodded as he knew the Kinkade name very well and Tabitha's father had been a friend. He also trusted Cardinal Antonio implicitly.
"Yes, yes of course. Cardinal Antonio has sent you to us after all. And as I said before, if there's anything you need, anything at all. Please let me know. For now, however, I have much to do and must leave you."
⚜️Her name was Malini Gadhavi. She had been a mother and wife and her father and mother owned a bakery in town. She helped her parents with the business as did her children. Her husband, Harshad worked on the docks. They had all been notified of her death. Malini's body was taken to a crypt beneath the church where so many people in the community had been taken for decades. Out of respect, Tabitha and Lex had not examined the body yet. When the family arrived, they both bowed their heads, watching as they were escorted to the undercroft. Neither Tabitha nor Lexington were looking forward to questioning them.
⚜️The afternoon wore on and with their interrogations near completion, they'd learned very little. That was until the woman's mother told them about one of Malini's dreams. Sitting with them in Father Haskell's office the poor woman stared blankly at a candle's flame as Tabitha held her trembling hands, listening. She said that on one occasion her daughter had been able to remember one of her dreams completely. Melini had said it was so clear in her mind, and unlike most dreams, it felt as though it had happened. In this nightmare, she had emerged from a cave not far from her home. She also told her mother there was a man there with her in a cloak and a hood over his head. This dark, ominous being followed her to the mouth of the cave. Malini said the man never came close but watched her from the shadows. Her daughter told her that in the dream she roared like an animal and when she peered into the trees, she could feel the forest come alive with the heartbeats and movements of every living creature. And then she told her mother that even at that distance she could not only hear but smell the people in town. It was then her mother began to cry. Tabitha comforted her, giving a nod to Lexington and Father Haskell. The interrogations were now over.
⚜️It had been a long day. Nighttime was upon them, and they all needed rest. Standing there in the small tomb, the air was cool, and the smell of old dirt filled their nostrils as they began to examine Malini Gadhavi's body. Her fingernails and toenails showed no signs of dirt, blood, or flesh. Her body, as well as her hair, was clean as though it had just been washed. There were also no injuries, not even a scar, and when they turned her on her side to look at her back there was no tattoo, no brand of any kind. Holding a candle over the young woman's corpse, Lexington glanced over at Tabitha.
"This is peculiar my lady. She should have some sort of brand on her even if she wasn't a member with the pack we seek."
Tabitha nodded but didn't look up as she continued to scan the woman's body for any evidence and clues.
"Agreed Lex, this is odd. Melini's dream was not an uncommon one for a werewolf, other than the presence of the dark man of course. And yet, I do not see a brand anywhere on her. Or any physical evidence she was Lycan for that matter. We must be missing something."
Lexington pulled his candle away to poor some of the melted wax onto the dirt floor and as he did, Father Haskell brought his lantern closer to help Tabitha see. Then just as Lex brought the candle back Tabitha gasped and cried out.
"Wait! I saw something. When you brought your candle back Lex. It was yellow like, like... It was something on her skin!"
Lexington and the priest looked at each other then back at Tabitha as she continued.
"The lights... somehow. Father, bring your lantern back to where you had it, and Lex you take the candle away, and then bring it back just as you did before."
Both did as instructed but Tabitha only sighed with disappointment asking them both to try again. Shaking her head, she was both exhausted and frustrated when she pounded her fist on the stone slab. After which time she folded her arms to lay her head down for a moment. Lexington watched her and then offered some sound advice.
"My lady let us retire for the evening and come back in the morning with rested eyes."
Tabitha looked up at him but didn't raise when she answered.
"No Lex, not yet. I know I saw something. We must find it!
With her head still laying on her arms, she looked at them both.
"Now let's do this again. And Lexington when you bring the candle back, do it very slowly please."
Lexington nodded unenthusiastically, then began to move the candle away from the woman's body when Tabitha screamed out.
"Stop! Don't move! Do you see it?! It's there on her shoulder. You must not move, either of you. It's the lights!"
Both men looked at each other, each wondering if the trials of this day had finally gotten the best of the hunter, then listened as she explained.
"It's the lights! Look see, the glass of Father Haskell's lamp is red, and so the flame gives off a deep red hue, while the candle's light of course is much brighter. Obvious of course but, if you carefully peer into the candle's blue flame and with the help of the red glow from Father Haskell's lantern you can see it!"
Taking a candle in hand she invited Lexington to take her place.
"Now as I hold the candle look through the blue of its flame Lex. Can you see it?"
Lex nodded and gasped, then excitedly scrambled for his journal. As he did, Tabitha looked at the priest's bewildered face and offered further explanation.
"My guess is it's phosphorous under the skin Father. The lights set off some sort of chemical reaction allowing it to be seen. Once Lex has studied the tattoo and made a drawing, we'll hold the lantern and candle so you can observe for yourself."
Having to peer through the flame made the study of the tattoo quite difficult, however, Lexington was able to examine it thoroughly.
"How very interesting Ms. Tabitha. The ink leaves no protrusions on the skin, and it's entirely undetectable under normal light conditions."
Tabitha smiled as she listened and nodded.
"Is it our pack Lex?"
"Yes, my lady. She was a member of the pack we're tracking.
Tabitha nodded once more and raised an eyebrow as she spoke.
"I think it's obvious that Malini Gadhavi was not a willing participant. The poor woman. Such torment."
Gathering herself she redirected her attention toward Father Haskell.
"Father, do you know of any caves in the area?"
The priest nodded as he spoke, the radiant red hue of his lantern causing his face to look very macabre under the low ceiling of the underground chamber.
"Why yes of course. There are several smaller caves, but Mawsmai Cave is the largest in the area. It's not far but it will easily be a day’s journey there and back."
Tabitha and Lexington listened intently,
"Could you show us on a map Father?"
"Of course. If you'll follow me to my office, I can set you on the right path."
Gathering their things, they followed Father Haskell from the dank black corridor where Malini Gadhavi's broken body lay. As they wearily made their way up the stone stairwell Tabitha muttered to herself.
"We will avenge you and your children Melini. Whoever did this to you will pay. I promise you."
A soft beam of light showed across the young woman’s corpse from the top of the stairs. From deep in the vault their faint voices could be heard and then the door closed, and all was dark, and all as silent, forever.
🐺🐺🐺🐺
⭐This capture and this chapter of this story could not have been possible without the help of some truly wonderful people who I'm honored to know as friends
.
⭐First of all I'd like to thank my dear friend and mentor Morgan Talbot who not only opened up his beautiful sim to me to I could take this shot but provided the build itself and many of the characters. He also took the time to model for this shot. Morgan's advice and support are always so very special to me. But perhaps calling him my friend is the most remarkable treasure of all. Thank you babes.💓
⭐Next, I would like to thank my dear friend Harper Blackwood for her help and for enduring my rough drafts for this chapter. Thanks for being the lab rat this time babes. Not a rat but like...in a lab. She gets it. lol But mostely I'd like to thank Harper for her support, her encouragement, and her precious friendship. You're the best girl.💓
⭐Lastly and as the say, certainly not least, I want to thank my very dear friend and mentor Marcus Strong. His unwaivering support and encouragement is precious to me. He's has always there to help in any way he can, whether thats advice, modeling, or just to tell me I'm doing a good job. I can never repay this man for all he's done for me. I'm honored to call him my friend. Thank you babes.💓
A bit of fun ......
Concentration and a sense of humour required.. ;o))
Enjoy ;o))
La provocation de l'art #10
See the full album "Les provocations de l'art" here:
Photography for me is savoring of the moment, pondering the now, and willing provocations. As I frame my subject and tell my story, I turn the truth into an object at the mercy of my audience's interpretations including my own.
I told this story in several ways when editing and in the end decided on this version which was the farthest away from what I had captured originally. Hence, I do not represent the world through my pictures as I find it; I represent the world as I wish you contemplate it. In the process, often I become a contemplating audience for my own work.
Other people's art. At the NGVi
Use your arrow keys on your keyboard to navigate to the next picture.
______________________________________
One of many ongoing approaches, where I move through the world as a harvester of images stumbling, strolling, lurching, equal parts accidental, and intentional. My concerns circumnavigate around questions that resist easy answers: time as texture, presence as performance, possibility as glitch. I trace the contours of decay and growth, hope and entropy, searching for the quiet collisions where meaning might emerge. Each image is less a document than a provocation an invitation to reconsider what we 'see', and what we ignore.
_____________________________________
Blog | Tumblr | Website | pixelfed.au | Instagram | Photography links | my Ko-fi shop | Off Ya Trolley! | s2z digital garden | vero | Dpreview albums | my work archived on trove at the National Library of Australia. | reddit
Gliwice Radio Station
The world's tallest wooden construction and the pretext for Hitler's German invasion of Poland
Gliwice (Gleiwitz) in Upper Silesia, Poland 18.10.2019
www.poland.travel/en/monuments/gliwice-radio-station
Sender Gleiwitz
Die höchste Holzkonstruktion der Welt und der Vorwand für den Überfall Hitlerdeutschlands auf Polen
Gliwice (Gleiwitz) in Oberschlesien, Polen 18.10.2019
www.spiegel.de/geschichte/besuch-im-sender-gleiwitz-a-949...
No Vacancy... really?
This is not meant as a provocation first hand, more of an observation.
Europe is struggling to accept more refugees every day and is partially doing a good job at it.
But from the refugees standpoint, it's hard to understand a closed door when what they are running from is so much worse than the problems that arise for us by helping them.
We live in Sweden btw. And thanks for liking the MOC. :)
Pals, I have a question:
I have an old photo (about three years old) that for a few months accumulates more and more activity (not like any other photo of mine).
I assume it is 'somewhere' but have no idea where is this 'somewhere'.
Do any of you have any ideas?
Thanks
www.flickr.com/photos/ybiberman/47744012342/
p.s.
I must admit it is not a typical photo of mine, and I posted it as a kind of a provocation (it is very colorful)
The European robin (Erithacus rubecula), known simply as the robin or robin redbreast in the British Isles, is a small insectivorous passerine bird, specifically a chat, that was formerly classified as a member of the thrush family (Turdidae) but is now considered to be an Old World flycatcher. About 12.5–14.0 cm (5.0–5.5 inches) in length, the male and female are similar in coloration, with an orange breast and face lined with grey, brown upperparts and a whitish belly. It is found across Europe, east to Western Siberia and south to North Africa; it is sedentary in most of its range except the far north.
The robin is diurnal, although has been reported to be active hunting insects on moonlit nights or near artificial light at night. Well known to British and Irish gardeners, it is relatively unafraid of people and drawn to human activities involving the digging of soil, in order to look out for earthworms and other food freshly turned up. Indeed, the robin is considered to be a gardener's friend and for various folklore reasons the robin would never be harmed. In continental Europe on the other hand, robins were hunted and killed as with most other small birds, and are more wary. Robins also approach large wild animals, such as wild boar and other animals which disturb the ground, to look for any food that might be brought to the surface. In autumn and winter, robins will supplement their usual diet of terrestrial invertebrates, such as spiders, worms and insects, with berries and fruit. They will also eat seed mixtures placed on bird-tables.
Male robins are noted for their highly aggressive territorial behavior. They will fiercely attack other males and competitors that stray into their territories and have been observed attacking other small birds without apparent provocation. Such attacks sometimes lead to fatalities, accounting for up to 10% of adult robin deaths in some areas.
Because of high mortality in the first year of life, a robin has an average life expectancy of 1.1 years; however, once past its first year it can expect to live longer and one robin has been recorded as reaching 19 years of age. A spell of very low temperatures in winter may also result in significant mortality.
For more information, please visit en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_robin
A Colombian cowboy on a horse (garrochero) stabs a bull in the neck while being chased in the arena of Corralejas, a rural bullfighting festival held in Soplaviento, Colombia. Every year during the dry season, villages and towns on the Caribbean coast of Colombia hold amateur bullfights, locally known as Corralejas. Families and people from all around meet on wooden bleachers of a temporarily built bullring to eat, drink and watch hundreds of amateur bullfighters risking their lives, taunting bulls, and showing their masculinity and courage in the arena. Unlike the corrida, the bulls in Corralejas are never killed. © Jan Sochor Photography
Credits:
::CandyDoll - Lynn pack: socks RARE + _CD_ Lynn Black Bodysuit -+ bk apron M LARA
=Zenith=Devious Maids Hat (Black)
::[Provocation] Maid lacey accesory pack
::[Provocation] Maid panicle
Gleiwitzer Radiosender, Ort der Naziprovokation am 31.August 1939;
Gliwice broadcasting station, place of nazi provocation on 31th August 1939;
Ballarat has a university campus. The University is called, Federation University.
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Use your arrow keys on your keyboard to navigate to the next picture.
______________________________________
One of many ongoing approaches, where I move through the world as a harvester of images stumbling, strolling, lurching, equal parts accidental, and intentional. My concerns circumnavigate around questions that resist easy answers: time as texture, presence as performance, possibility as glitch. I trace the contours of decay and growth, hope and entropy, searching for the quiet collisions where meaning might emerge. Each image is less a document than a provocation an invitation to reconsider what we 'see', and what we ignore.
_____________________________________
Blog | Tumblr | Website | pixelfed.au | Instagram | Photography links | my Ko-fi shop | Off Ya Trolley! | s2z digital garden | vero | Dpreview albums | my work archived on trove at the National Library of Australia. | reddit
This image is part of a series in which I explore whether characteristic features and dynamics of various roles can be made visually tangible through the language of architecture.
Today: London’s iconic skyscraper the Shard as “The Shaper“, according to Meredith Belbin.
The Shaper is a task-focused team role, providing the necessary drive to ensure that the team keeps moving and does not lose focus or momentum.
Strengths: Challenging, dynamic, thrives on pressure. Has the drive and courage to overcome obstacles.
Allowable weaknesses: Can be prone to provocation, and may sometimes offend people's feelings.
Don't be surprised to find that: They could risk becoming aggressive and bad-humoured in their attempts to get things done.
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Photographer: Marcus Danz
Website: bilderschmied.com
Shop: shop.bilderschmied.com
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The European robin (Erithacus rubecula), known simply as the robin or robin redbreast in the British Isles, is a small insectivorous passerine bird, specifically a chat, that was formerly classified as a member of the thrush family (Turdidae) but is now considered to be an Old World flycatcher. About 12.5–14.0 cm (5.0–5.5 inches) in length, the male and female are similar in coloration, with an orange breast and face lined with grey, brown upperparts and a whitish belly. It is found across Europe, east to Western Siberia and south to North Africa; it is sedentary in most of its range except the far north.
The robin is diurnal, although has been reported to be active hunting insects on moonlit nights or near artificial light at night. Well known to British and Irish gardeners, it is relatively unafraid of people and drawn to human activities involving the digging of soil, in order to look out for earthworms and other food freshly turned up. Indeed, the robin is considered to be a gardener's friend and for various folklore reasons the robin would never be harmed. In continental Europe on the other hand, robins were hunted and killed as with most other small birds, and are more wary. Robins also approach large wild animals, such as wild boar and other animals which disturb the ground, to look for any food that might be brought to the surface. In autumn and winter, robins will supplement their usual diet of terrestrial invertebrates, such as spiders, worms and insects, with berries and fruit. They will also eat seed mixtures placed on bird-tables.
Male robins are noted for their highly aggressive territorial behavior. They will fiercely attack other males and competitors that stray into their territories and have been observed attacking other small birds without apparent provocation. Such attacks sometimes lead to fatalities, accounting for up to 10% of adult robin deaths in some areas.
Because of high mortality in the first year of life, a robin has an average life expectancy of 1.1 years; however, once past its first year it can expect to live longer and one robin has been recorded as reaching 19 years of age. A spell of very low temperatures in winter may also result in significant mortality.
For more information, please visit en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_robin
"dude, you wanna get stung, keep stickin' that damned camera in my face. i'm a Yellow Jacket, Beetlebrain; i don't *need* a reason to jack you up...."
crawling 'round on a hummigbird feeder hanger wire. FWIW, Yellow jackets are our friends, they prey on a number of "pest" insect species. they just have this one little character flaw in that they are among the very few Hymenopterans (the only one i'm personally familiar with) that will sting without provocation. and, should you be so foolish as to provoke a group of them...well, if you're allergic, better have your epi-pen handy, 'cuz they'll use you like a pincushion. apparently their venom contains an "alarm" pheromone that cues their brethren there's trouble afoot and to come help out. did i mention yellow jackets, unlike bees, can sting multiple times? oh well, if you're not allergic, from personal experience i can guarantee you will feel much better when the pain subsides. perhaps it will make you feel better to know they even sting each other...
BTW, tanagers (and to a lesser degree, orioles) are fond of munching on bees, wasps, yellow jackets, etc. ;)
A summer storm brews over the horizon against the backdrop of the Bolte Bridge.
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One of many ongoing approaches, where I move through the world as a harvester of images stumbling, strolling, lurching, equal parts accidental, and intentional. My concerns circumnavigate around questions that resist easy answers: time as texture, presence as performance, possibility as glitch. I trace the contours of decay and growth, hope and entropy, searching for the quiet collisions where meaning might emerge. Each image is less a document than a provocation an invitation to reconsider what we 'see', and what we ignore.
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"Before you stands a sports car of flesh and blood. Boasting a voluminous 4.0-litre six-cylinder horizontally opposed and naturally aspirated engine packing 383 kW (520 hp), mounted in the rear.
Its race track chassis will show you what it means to confront the tarmac head on. Eye for an eye. Lap after lap. The fixed rear wing is a flagrant provocation to do battle. To the opponent. And to the opposing headwind. The rear silencer as well as the tailpipes in titanium are a visible sign of what the new 911 GT3 RS is promising: unadulterated sound, pure performance, and a challenge that nobody whose heart beats for sports cars can shy away from..."
Source: Porsche
Photographed during Driven Club event in Northern Ireland.
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Au cours des trois dernières décennies, Van Lieshout a construit une pratique multidisciplinaire qui crée des œuvres à la frontière entre l'art, le design et l'architecture. Explorant la mince frontière entre faire de l'art et produire en masse des objets fonctionnels, il tente de trouver les frontières entre fantasme et fonction, entre fertilité et destruction. Van Lieshout dissèque les systèmes, qu'il s'agisse de la société dans son ensemble ou du corps humain. Toutes ces activités sont menées dans le style de provocation propre à Van Lieshout, qu'il soit politique ou matériel. Ses œuvres partagent un certain nombre de thèmes, de motifs et d'obsessions récurrents : les systèmes, le pouvoir, l'autarcie, la vie, le sexe et la mort. Chacun d'eux suit l'individu humain face à un plus grand tout.
Over the past three decades, Van Lieshout has built a multidisciplinary practice that creates works on the border between art, design and architecture. Exploring the fine line between making art and mass-producing functional objects, he tries to find the boundaries between fantasy and function, between fertility and destruction. Van Lieshout dissects systems, whether society as a whole or the human body. All of these activities are carried out in Van Lieshout's style of provocation, whether political or material. Her works share a number of recurring themes, motifs and obsessions: systems, power, self-sufficiency, life, sex and death. Each of them follows the human individual in the face of a greater whole.
The Story of Ferdinand (1936) is the best known work written by American author Munro Leaf and illustrated by Robert Lawson. The children's book tells the story of a bull who would rather smell flowers than fight in bullfights. He sits in the middle of the bull ring failing to take heed of any of the provocations of the matador and others to fight. Here, Ferdinand the bull sits atop a shed watching over the Napa Valley smelling the sweet aroma of the grapes
NEW: I'm now making music, JOIN ME ON SOUNDCLOUD!
SHOP: www.icanvas.com/canvas-art-prints/artist/ben-heine
Work in progress HERE and close detail HERE.
This is a digital work but I placed the circles one by one on a black
background. It took me quite a long time to finish the whole portrait...
I really like Lady Gaga's personality and imago. She has a beautiful mouth and I found a deep expression of nostalgia and fear in the purity of her eyes.
The original version of the above portrait is huge (over 10000 pixels wide).
Buy prints, canvases and posters of this artwork HERE.
For more info about my projects, contact: info@benheine.com
A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy.
~Edward P. Morgan
For the Happy Caturday group theme "Poem or book".
When we adopted Jeffrey, he already had his name.
A British friend told us about this famous poem by Christopher Smart (1722-71):
"For I will consider my Cat Jeffrey.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having considered God and himself he will consider his neighbor.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness
he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit
without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he's a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of
the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defense is an instance of the love of God
to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord's poor, and so indeed is he called by benevolence
perpetually —Poor Jeffrey! poor Jeffrey! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeffrey is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can sit up with gravity, which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick, which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Icneumon rat, very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire.
For the electrical fire is the spiritual substance which God sends from heaven
to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.
alternate title: I am not angry at your cichlids.
This painting has to do with strength, resolve and winning, but also with weakness, apathy and loss. It has to do with the vulnerability and courage to have a voice that is different from others. Both Sia and Camille Paglia are inspirations for this painting, but it also takes inspiration from a failed friendship of mine. I began to learn how people who feel weak can be threatened by those who appear strong. I think it's important to notice that all of us have the potential for being either strong or weak. And the choices we make, how we walk them out and how we communicate our boundaries and desires to others will play a huge role in our outcomes. I proudly admit that I used the title of one of Paglia's recent books as the name for this painting.
These last two days, man. It really doesn't help when one person's anger can make you feel as angry as them without any provocation.
Or, see bees on the sea holly.
In Elizabethan times in England, these plants were believed to be a strong aphrodisiac. They are named in a speech by Falstaff:
"Let the sky rain potatoes;
let it thunder to the tune of Green-sleeves,
hail kissing-comfits and snow eringoes [sea-holly],
let there come a tempest of provocation..."
—Falstaff, Act 5, scene v, "The Merry Wives of Windsor", William Shakespeare
Thank you for your comments and faves – they are greatly appreciated!
Select photos from my Flickr stream are available for purchase as prints or personal download at [www.winterfirephotographicarts.com].
« Accoutumance et fatigue font équilibre à cette provocation diffuse ; ainsi l’ensemble garde sa stabilité, sa réserve. » (H.T.)
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