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From last summer, never published...
I really like the question mark on her face while she's asking "why do you want my photo??", and in the background ;-)
It might not be the most upmarket place we’ve stayed in this year, but George (presumably Anglicized for the overwhelmingly British clientele) and his team have given us a very warm welcome. The apartment is comfortable and clean and we don’t ask for more than that. If George is slightly disappointed that we don’t spend quite as much time or money at the hotel bar as most of his guests, he doesn’t show it. Maybe my rapturous approval of the house Village Salad has put a big mark in the credit column for the occupants of room sixty-six. But we prefer to explore a holiday destination rather than lounge about by the pool ordering pints of Mythos all day. Besides which, Ali only drinks water. Hot water or cold water are the only two beverages she needs in life. People don’t believe her at first - they think she’s just being polite. No really - no tea, no coffee, definitely no juice or sugary fizzy pop (you should see her face when I pour a glass of orange juice in the morning), and no alcohol either. I make up for these shortfalls - except for the fizzy pop. I don’t drink that stuff either. I’m quite keen on the Mythos though. Especially the way it’s served in frozen glasses. I’ve taken to putting my own beer glasses in the ice box for an hour before pouring one back at the apartment in the evenings.
Our holiday rep is young, shy and giggly. She’s also Swedish. I was in Sweden less than two weeks ago, and at the bar, as I pay for my Village Salad, I bore the poor girl to sleep about my adventures in her homeland. She agrees that the west coast is a beautiful part of the country. In turn I agree that we’re having a lovely time here in Rhodes. She grins. I think it’s the last time we’ll stay in a place like this though. For years we booked everything independently, but after the pandemic, and just so we could blame everything on the operator when things went wrong, we returned to the traditional package holiday. But it’s not really our thing. Neither of us like mixing with other people, and we really don’t need to be entertained in the evenings. We much prefer the sound of the cicadas at night to what we’re being served with here. So far we’ve been treated to Whitney Houston, Bob Marley, Lionel Richie, Billy Ocean, Rihanna, Wilson Pickett and Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. All of this as we sit out on the balcony each evening, whether we like it or not. Obviously not the actual artists. How much do you think we paid for this holiday? Besides which it wouldn’t be possible as a number of them aren’t with us anymore. What’s interesting is that all of the performers come from South Africa. We think it’s the same people coming back every two or three nights, each time wearing different wigs. The quizmaster isn’t from South Africa though. Essex I reckon. He was still reading out the questions after midnight the other evening. The majority of the other guests are several years older than us. Exactly how many Rihanna songs are they familiar with? I only know two and I’m a mere stripling compared to most of them. The artists are very versatile. They usually lapse into Earth Wind and Fire or Heatwave after they’ve played the only three songs that anyone knows. Two if it’s Rihanna. Nobody seems to notice.
And competing with all of this is the din from the bar just across the way. To my horror, someone in charge of the jukebox has just faded out Mark Knopfler’s legendary guitar break from “The Sultans of Swing,” the only thing that has quite literally been music to my ears as we sit out here on the balcony in the dark. Because apparently it’s karaoke night. And the most important thing about being a karaoke performer is that you need to be tone deaf. Take the hen party that’s shouting the words of Paul Heaton over the microphone. More like an Imperfect Ten really. I sigh and open the Booking.com app. I noticed there were some apartments in a village up in the hills near the Seven Springs that we visited the other day. Next time we’ll do it all independently again, just like we used to.
To escape from all of this we’ve hired a car, just like we always do on these holidays. This time it’s a white Suzuki Celerio with a squeaky clutch pedal and a remote key fob that has a dead battery. Mostly we turn right at the bottom of our road, heading along the strip and out of town towards wherever we’ve decided to retreat to. Each time we do this, our first hazard is a bend in the road that I’ve unaffectionately named Poo Pong corner, a reference to the fact that it evidently sits over the town’s sewage drain, and upon which someone has opened a restaurant called Flames. Oh the irony! Surely it would only take a lit cigarette on an especially noxious day for the Flames to go up in, well, flames? It never seems to be that busy there. I love Greek food, but not when there are competing aromas coming from a river of floating effluent just a few yards away that’s come from the inner workings of a couple of thousand overindulgent tourists.
Occasionally though, we turn left instead of right, and drive a mile or two down the road to the tiny beach at the edge of the next town. This is a little piece of the Greece we love, with quiet water lapping at the shoreline, the flat warm sea such a gentle contrast to the drama we’re used to at home. And one evening as the sun sunk over the hills in the west it delivered the first worthwhile picture. Strangely, taken along the holiday strip rather than in some remote wild area. Later, back on the balcony, as someone from the raucous bar squawked to everyone within a half mile radius that they were simply the best, I had a quick go at it on the little laptop that comes with me on every holiday these days. I decided to award myself a small glass of ouzo. And promptly changed my mind in favour of a slightly bigger one. I needed to do something to drown that karaoke out.
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Κατά τύχη είδα σε κάποιο κανάλι ένα αφιέρωμα στον “Μύλο των ξωτικών”
Ακούγοντας την χαζοχαρούμενη διάθεση κάποιου “υπευθύνου” να δηλώνει ότι εφέτος προσδοκούμε να ξεπεράσουμε τον περσινό αριθμό των 1.200.000 επισκεπτών(!!!),μου γεννήθηκαν κάποιες σκέψεις τις οποίες θα μεταφέρω γνωρίζοντας ότι ρίχνω λίγες σταγόνες στον ωκεανό του διαδικτύου:
1)Τελικά είμαστε παντοιοτρόπως ΝΟΥΜΕΡΑ
2) Το περίφημο αυτό “θεματικό” πάρκο τι ΘΕΜΑ έχει;
3) Αν έχει πάντως τα Χριστούγεννα,είναι καταφανώς εκτός θέματος εφόσον τίποτα απολύτως σ’αυτό το καταναλωτικό κιτς συνονθύλευμα δεν έχει την παραμικρή σχέση με την έλευση του Χριστού στον κόσμο μέσα σε άκρα ταπείνωση και φτώχεια.
4) Όλες οι ανά τους αιώνες δικτατορίες την ίδια αλάνθαστη μέθοδο ελέγχου των μαζών
(και όχι βέβαια συνειδητοποιημένων λαών) χρησιμοποιούν: “άρτο και θεάματα”
By chance I saw on a channel a tribute to "The Elf Mill".
Hearing the cheerful disposition of a “manager” to say that this year we expect to surpass last year's 1,200,000 visitors (!!!), I have some thoughts to share that I know will throw a few drops into the internet ocean:
1) Finally we are all numbered
2) What theme does this famous theme park have?
3) If it is Christmas anyway, it is obviously out of the question since nothing in this consumer kit patch has anything to do with Christ's coming into the world in extreme humility and poverty.
4) All dictatorships over the centuries have the unmistakable same method of controlling the masses
(and not of course conscious peoples) use: "bread and spectacles"
The story of the very important industrial heritage monument has been mentioned in a previous post
Η ιστορία του πολύ σημαντικού μνημείου βιομηχανικής κληρονομιάς έχει αναφερθεί σε προηγούμενη ανάρτηση εδώ here
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Anastyle - Swamy White&Stripes Outfit
&
Anastyle - SWAMY BERET (BLACK)
Available now at Sense Event
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/DreamsLand/171/50/1502
Anastyle Mainstore:
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Paradise%20Mountain/209/32/22
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Backdrop by K&S
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Ogni tanto mi piace usare il tele (200mm) per catturare i treni, l'effetto prospettico non è niente male ;-)
"That's what the ox from the meat bridge could have told me" is used when an answer to a question is predictable or unsatisfactory.
"I might as well have told that to the ox on the meat bridge" means something like 'talking against a wall'.
Incorporate these two proverbs into your language from time to time and see which of your fellow human beings already know the story behind them. We're sure not too many
„Das hätte mir der Ochs von der Fleischbrücke auch sagen können“ wird verwendet, wenn eine Antwort auf eine Frage voraussehbar oder unbefriedigend ist.
„Das hätte ich genauso gut dem Ochs auf der Fleischbrücke erzählen können“ bedeutet in seinem Sinngehalt in etwa so viel wie ‚gegen eine Wand reden‘.
Bau diese beiden Sprichwörter doch mal gelegentlich in deinen Sprachgebrauch ein und schau, welcher deiner Mitmenschen die Geschichte dahinter bereits kennen. Wir sind uns sicher, nicht allzu viele
Explore #86
While walking around and capture on my camera the beauty of the city, I was asking questions to anybody who was willing to answer. That's how I found out about this cobblestone strip street beautiful after the rain. All the colors were so vibrant. I was told this was the most photographed place. This gentleman believed this was the only place left with the authentic cobblestones. Of course no cars are allowed.
Thanks for your visit and kind comments.
From the Richard Harvey Kitchen Studio.
Raw file into Affinity Photo. Lost the EXIF data somehow but it’s: Canon EOS 6D Mark II, Lens EF 50mm, Exp. 1.3” @ f/18, ISO 320.
Chipmunk Contemplation…
Seeds or no seeds…
That is the question… 😉
The chipmunks must be hungry after the long winter season. This one seemed a little shy and would not come very close to me. By summer, in this public park, it will likely boldly approach human folk in the search of food.
www.hww.ca/en/wildlife/mammals/chipmunk.html
Chipmunks are known to be hibernators, even in the southern parts of their range. Near the end of July, they begin to collect and store large quantities of seeds. By October, each chipmunk has accumulated enough seeds to enable it to survive the winter.
With the onset of winter in November, chipmunks disappear below ground. At present, it is not known exactly what happens when chipmunks retire to their burrows for the winter. One view is that they immediately go into a torpid state. (In this state, the body temperature, rate of breathing, and rate of heartbeat drop to very low levels, reducing the amount of energy required to maintain the chipmunk.) Periods of torpor last from one to eight days, and perhaps longer. Between periods of torpor, chipmunks wake up and consume part of their food supply. They have occasionally been seen above ground on warm winter days. A second view is that chipmunks do not actually hibernate until their food supply has been exhausted.
With the first warm days of March, chipmunks begin to emerge, sometimes burrowing up through a metre of snow.
In spring, chipmunks diligently search the ground for any seeds that remain from the previous summer. As these are usually scarce, the small rodents eat young leaves and shoots until new fruit and seeds become available.
I must have missed a day somewhere... so here is to catching up :)
SOOC.
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This image is part of the limited Fine Art Collection “edition one | timeframe“ by bilderschmied.com
- Strictly limited edition, e.g.: Only 10 large (36“/91,44 cm) prints ever available.
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“If the path before you is clear, you're probably on someone else's.”
― Joseph Campbell
Since I need some winter images for a proper photo calendar i looked for something worth capturing during those days when we had at least a little bit of snow.
Actually the amount of snow we had wasn’t even enough to cover the grass on this hill, so I cloned out hundreds of grass blades, which was great fun.
Not.
If you are into counting, you are welcome to check my assertion based on the original image:
www.facebook.com/bilderschmied.danz/photos/p.219055497459...
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One of those days where you question the choices in life you made. It is a big day for me as I am finally off orientation. A day where I will no longer have the comfort of knowing that their is someone behind you every step of the way. Like the feeling of taking off those training wheels; using only your knowledge and your courage to ride forward. The fact that today was my last day, I would have wanted it to end with a bang, but that was not the case. I found myself questioning my decisions and all that I have worked so hard for. I felt so incompetent, and so stupid at the same time. These are the days that will challenge my fortitude and my desire to pursue this career. I am so nervous and unsure now, I feel like my confidence has rebounded deep within me, and finding it will take time.
Why go to school if you won't listen to the educated? I thought that was an excellent question.
I continue to be disappointed that children in the Untied States remain relatively silent while children in Europe are fighting for our existence. That is one of those things that clearly shows how manipulated we are.
Fantastic Friday to you my friend.
So the real question on this monkey post is why?
I was going to use it for the Macro Monday Ceramic theme from a couple of weeks ago but it exceeded the size specification of 3 inches ( it measured out at 4.75 in. tall by 2 in. deep) and I didn't like it cropped. The monkey was pretty excited about being featured on flickr and you can only imagine his disappointment when he got wind that I used the Hummel instead. I didn't want to [...bear a monkey...] as the expression goes even if it was my fault the next morning after a good bit of drinking so I felt it best to show him off here.
Ceramic lid from a German 2l stein that I received from an uncle who brought it from Germany around 1900. It's manufactured by Matthias Grimscheid, Mold #1199. It's a big stein so the wording is most appropriate: “Trag deinen Affen mit Geduld, an dem bist du nur selber Schuld.” (Bear your monkey with patience, it is your own fault.)
55mm f/2.8 NIKKOR Micro, 6 image photo stack.
Textures by: Skeltalmess and Lenabem-Anna.
Question:
Is model release needed from the person captured in street shots which are not used commercially?
There was a street shot posted by my nephew: HERE. The person captured in the photo was pretty furious with that post and requested to have it removed from his Flickr site.
My nephew has removed it from his photostream out of respect for her.
I hope to take this opportunity to seek your opinion about our right in terms of photographing human subject on the street.
Elle rassemble les corps de 2208 soldats, dont 577 inconnus. La bataille de Morhange dont il est question s'est déroulée du 19 au 20 août 1914 et fit plus de 8000 morts.
What do they call that guy who hangs off the side of the boat?
Oh, yeah. Bait.
Port of Redwood City, California.
How Did The Monster From 'Jeepers Creepers' Not Only Register His Truck But Also Get A Personalized License Plate?
Today I will answer the most popular questions. And if you do not find your question in the list, write in the comments 💬 I will be happy to answer everyone.
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Where is the best place to hold a photo shoot?
Places for a photo shoot are always discussed and selected exclusively from your wishes. For bad weather, you can always use a photo studio.
Do you
give clothes for a photo shoot?
I do not provide clothing, but I can help you choose the necessary option.
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We are not models, do you help on the shoot?
Of course😉. I always tell you how best to put your foot, hand, and where to look after all. You don't have to worry. The main task for you is to relax, and I will also help you with this.
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When will we get our photos?
It all depends on the workload of me, the photographer. But usually I always say срок when the photos are ready.
#Sky #Streetlight #Temple #Streetfashion #Travel #Jacket #Tree #City #Fun #Leisure #NikonD4
Crossing some trucks on the parallel Interstate 84 on the Columbia River Gorge is a Westbound UP Potash with Canadian Pacific 8202, 8128 rocking the Canadian Pacific Kansas City repaint and 9806 at 0800 through Celilo on the UP Portland Subdivision.
This train originated in Canada and interchanged with Union Pacific at Eastport, Idaho, on the Canadian border. So, it begs the question: Should I put this photo in the Canadian Pacific or Union Pacific Flickr album?
8202-8128-9806(r) UP WB Potash Celilo 24-4-25
I really want to make X-Men related figures & I'm wondering how I should do these two characters. If I do a big fig, will it be too big? But I feel if I do it like a regular minifigure, it'll be too small, & I really don't want to do the
«Une photo est venue, s'est soulevée, ou s'est extraite, a surgi. De la masse ou de l'immense et infini feuilletage, une photo, une seule a eu ce pouvoir — celui, un temps, de surgir ainsi, en capturant le sens, en fixant la question : comme si tout le pouvoir et toute l'étrangeté de l'image s'étaient inscrits en une seule d'entre elles, et celle-là.
Avec aussitôt, il faut le noter, un pouvoir d'appel de cette photo en direction d'une autre, non identifiée mais formant derrière la première comme un estuaire obscur. Et lorsque j'ai compris vers quoi, vers quelle autre image la première, celle qui donc avait surgi, faisait signe, j'ai vu s'ouvrir un écart : l'espace d'un livre, toute une affaire à raconter, celle du chemin allant de l'une à l'autre — une histoire d'ombres brûlées, de temps suspendu, avec la possibilité de voir revenir, mais alors secoués, les vieux schèmes de la présence et de l'absence, de la masse et du détail, du temps filé, ou filant, et du temps stoppé net. Toute la dramaturgie de ce qui porte l'essence de l'image. L'histoire d'un glissement de (ou dans) la pensée — et je voudrais que cela puisse être ou devenir comme un genre, un genre de récit.»
Jean-Christophe Bailly
L'Instant et son ombre
ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ, ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ?
ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ?
Typically, when I post a photo, it’s my own work, and the only description is the lyrics of a song that sparked the idea in my mind. But this picture is different. This was taken by Ari Gunner, who, without hesitation or expectation, offered to help me with my first store simply because she wanted to see me succeed. That simple act of kindness perfectly sums up who Ari was—not just in that moment, but in every moment I was lucky enough to share with her.
She wasn’t just a friend; she was the closest thing I ever had to a mother, both in SL and RL. She was there for me in ways that no one else was, without question, without obligation—just pure, unwavering support. She took care of me when she didn’t have to, when the world felt heavy, and when I felt alone.
I will carry her kindness, her love, and her generosity with me for the rest of my life. She gave so much and asked for nothing in return. That is the kind of love that never fades, and I will never forget her.