View allAll Photos Tagged questioning
Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.
~ Albert Einstein
Thanks to everyone for viewing my photostream, giving comments and faves. I'm working on catching up with your photos. Flickr is great, but today I just had to do something for my body. I climbed Porezen of 1622 m today. There's still looooots of snow there, but it was sunny and warm, even the wind was kind. Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera, I found my backpack way too heavy as it was. See you soon!
Explore March 22, 2009 - Highest Position: #280
Thank You Everyone!
© All rights reserved. Please do not use my photo without my express permission.
Last days I do commonly feel sad. Maybe I am getting older and have achieved the age of questioning myself - what do I really want from life? Guess happiness and love. I am a happy person, but what about love? Someone to live the moments together... I thought I had it, but lost...Please my friends - take more time for the things in life what really matter!
Some advertising for my lovely friends, who you can find also on IG.
Very special thank you goes to Egill Egillson @egill60 for making those photos.
The lingerie outfit is from the www.velvet-dessous.at shop, which I discovered in Vienna a few weeks ago. Close to Stephandom in the heart of Vienna, by accident, I have landed in a small but very inviting lingerie dessous shop. To my luck, the owner of the shop – Helga Fuhrmann was there, and after few minutes being shy from my side we have started a discussion about lingerie, and I told her about Annastasya. It was a great time for me in that shop! All I wear on this photo is from Helgas shop!
I would also like to thank my lovely friend and sister Julia @juumy. She a wonderful person and also a make-up artist. She has just started her career in that direction, and I am honored to be her first model. Great experiences for both of us! Thank you for your support and your company in Dänemark.
My most warm thank you goes to Jeanne @jeanne_pink and her boobs products. I love my pair of very natural looking and sexy boobs. I can only recommend her products www.boobsshop.com
King Edmund III, called “the Weak,” rules over a realm in decline. His authority has been shaken by the defeat in the Long War, which left nobles openly questioning his rule and the border Marches drifting toward rebellion. Though he clings to the trappings of power and presides over an otherwise centralized semi-feudal monarchy, his reign is marked by indecision and deference to court factions. By tradition he remains the head of the realm, and his presence carries symbolic weight, but in practice much of the day-to-day governance and defense is increasingly contested by ambitious nobles and fractious border lords.
Beside him stands Queen Beatrice, whose steadiness and quiet gravitas provide a counterbalance to Edmund’s hesitancy. While she does not rule with absolute power, she is well respected among courtiers and serves as a moderating influence at court, smoothing disputes and protecting her daughter’s interests behind the scenes. Their only child, Princess Eleanor, is a contemplative and studious young woman. She has long been drawn to the libraries of Belson and Archeon College, showing more affinity for books, philosophy, and quiet scholarship than for the rituals of statecraft or battlefield command. Her learned temperament and intellectual bent give her a certain esteem among the university circles and courtly scholars, though some question whether she possesses the boldness needed in troubled times.
Completing the immediate dynasty is Edmund’s nephew, Prince James, and his wife, Princess Genevieve. James is a veteran of the Long War and has gained a reputation for martial competence and decisive leadership—qualities that contrast sharply with his uncle. Many nobles dissatisfied with Edmund’s weakness see James as a more effective potential ruler. Princess Genevieve is his gracious consort, a stabilizing partner whose diplomatic sensibilities and gentle charisma complement James’s vigor in arms. Together, they are sometimes seen as a rival court center, quietly cultivating support among the discontented and offering an alternative vision of strength and renewal for the kingdom.
---------
Built as a freebuild for the Brethren of the Brick Seas Prequel - Tales of Old on EuroBricks
I saw two separate herds of Bighorn Sheep the same day, just a few kilometers apart... one at Jasper Lake and the other at Disaster Point, at the base of Roche Miette.
I managed to squeeze about half of one herd into this photo and they seem to be questioning why I'm on the shoulder of the road.
As they approached, I got back in my vehicle and they walked by on both sides... the big rams were literally rubbing up against the vehicle. I thought for sure I was going to take at least gentle horn butt. Happy to say we all went unscathed... sheep, cars and humans.
Update (17.01.25): currently under re-construction - new story to come soon!
NeverendingSL/Souru Sosaeti is part of a novel of the Lost Artist. Here, the Lost Artist finds himself in a post-apocalyptic landscape in a devastated Japanese town, where global leaders convene to determine the fate of humanity amid their own self-serving agendas. As the world crumbles around them, the Lost Artist grapples with his identity and purpose, seeking to make sense of his existence in a time of chaos. His quest is not just about survival but also about redemption and the potential for change. His artistic vision becomes a means to challenge the leaders' decisions, questioning whether art can influence power dynamics and societal values.
Landing Area of Souru Sosaeti
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hidden%20Reef/10/236/18
I woke up wondering
Questioning
How'd this begin?
How'd things get so out of place?
Feels like we're keeping score
Everyday's like before
But we both losing this game
They'll be times we
Fight, they'll be tears
We cry but it's just you and I
On this road
So will you know
When to hold me
And not let me be lonely
When I won't let you in
And sometimes when I'm angry
Will you know how to face me
Put me together again
And even when I need space
And don't mean the words that I say
Please don't go too far away
So when it feels like we're breaking
Will you know how to hate me
And love me again
I know there's part of me
That handles things so stubbornly
When you don't see it my way
People know we're both to blame
And pointing fingers everyday
You know it's never gonna change
They'll be times we
Fight, they'll be tears
We cry but it's just you and I
On this road
So will you know
When to hold me
And not let me be lonely
When I won't let you in
And sometimes when I'm angry
Will you know how to face me
Put me together again
And even when I need space
And don't mean the words that I say
Please don't go too far away
So when it feels like we're breaking
Will you know how to hate me
And love me again
So will you know
When to hold me
And not let me be lonely
When I won't let you in
And sometimes when I'm angry
Will you know how to face me
Put me together again
And even when I need space
And don't mean the words that I say
Please don't go too far away
So when it feels like we're breaking
Will you know how to hate me
And love me again
So when it feels like we're breaking
Will you know how to hate me
And love me again
On Explore, April 22, 2007, #36
Thank you very much to all of you my dear Flickr friends for your so kind comments!
Questionings of my wild river for this special day! Why deforest? Why your artificial green grass are more beautiful than our natural wild colours? Why you make life so difficult to us, rivers and lakes? You prefer us lifeless? Why?
Nature is commanded by obeying her!
Francis Bacon
On ne commande à la nature qu'en lui obéissant!
Alla natura si comanda solo ubbidendole!
A la naturaleza se le da órdenes sólo obedeciéndole!
Der Natur befiehlt man nur, indem man ihr gehorcht!
природой управляют, подчиняясь ей
يمكن التحكّم بالطبيعة عن طريق الخضوع لقوانينها
只有屈服于大自然才能去控制她
A natureza se comanda obedecendo a ela!
природата се командва чрез подчинение!
Prirodi se naređuje tako što joj se povinjava!
Přírodě poručíš tak, že ji poslechneš!
Natur kan kun styres ved at lytte til den!
De natuur wordt bevolen door haar te gehoorzamen!
Loodust valitseda tähendab sellele alluda!
Luontoa hallitaan tottelemalla sitä!
η φύση δαμάζεται με το να την υπακούς
הציות לטבע הוא הדרך היחידה לשלוט בו
A természetnek csak úgy parancsolhatunk, ha engedelmeskedünk neki!
Til að ná valdi á náttúrunni er best að hlýða henni!
自然を操るには、その声に耳を傾けることである
Przyrodzie rozkazuje się ulegając jej!
A natureza só é comandada se se lhe obedecer!
Stăpânim natura prin a ne supune ei!
прородом се командује поштујући је!
Prírode sa rozkazuje iba tak, že ju poslúchame!
Det enda sättet att styra över naturen är genom att lyda den!
ธรรมชาตินั้นควบคุมได้ด้วยการให้ความเคารพต่อธรรมชาติ
Doğaya ona itaat ederek hükmedilir!
природою можна повелівати, лише підкоряючись їй
... now on twitter
SCOUT: "Daddy? Daddy!"
DADDY: "Yes, Scout?"
SCOUT: "Daddy, can we go out for a walk, please?"
DADDY: "Yes of course, Scout. Is there somewhere in particular you’d like to go?"
SCOUT: "Anywhere there are flowers, please Daddy!"
DADDY: "Well, it is wintertime now, Scout, so a lot of the flowers will be asleep, but we will see what we can find."
SCOUT: "Come on Paddy and Rosie! I know Daddy says that it’s wintertime, but if Cornelia found some pretty flowers for Moesje, maybe we can find some pretty flowers for Oleg and mijn beste vriend Peter."
ROSIE: "Who also happens to be mijn prins Peter! Yes! Let’s go, Scout! Peter saw me in his magical crystal ball, so I want to give him some beautiful flowers as a thank you for thinking of me!"
PADDY: "Yes, let’s go, but let’s wrap up nice and warmly first, everybear. "
SCOUT and ROSIE: "Yes Paddy!"
DADDY, PADDY, SCOUT and ROSIE: *Go for a walk.*
PADDY: "Oh look Scout and Rosie! There is a whole bush of pretty red Prunus flowers! We can pick some of them for mijn best vriend Oleg and your beste vriend and prins, Peter!"
ROSIE: "Prunes? Oh yuck! I hate prunes!" *Sticks out cute little pink bear tongue.* "They taste disgusting! Blagh!"
SCOUT: "Oh, I hate prunes too, Rosie! Yuck!" *Sticks out cute little pink bear tongue.* "Daddy makes me eat prunes when I can't..."
PADDY: "Ahem!" *Clears throat.* "Scout!"
SCOUT: "What?" *Looks at Paddy questioningly.*
PADDY: "There is no need to discuss bodily functions in public, Scout!" *Blushes pink beneath plush fur.*
SCOUT: "But it's true, Paddy! Daddy makes me eat them when..." *Lowers voice to a whisper.* "When I can't... can't... can't go visit the... the... the Lady Louisa!"
ROSIE: "Considering that mijn poor prins Peter got stuck on the poop chair, he might not like these Prune flowers that help you go poop."
SCOUT: "Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. We don’t want to upset mijn beste vriend Peter."
ROSIE: "Who also happens to be mijn prins Peter!"
SCOUT: "Maybe we better find a better kind of flower than these Prune flowers then, Paddy and Rosie!"
PADDY: "Prunus flowers, Scout and Rosie, not Prune flowers."
DADDY: "Actually Paddy, I think you'll find that those red flowers are actually Japonica and aren't Prunus at all. Sorry to correct you."
PADDY, SCOUT and ROSIE: "Oh thank you for telling us Daddy!"
SCOUT: *Scratches head.* "What is a Japonica, Daddy?"
PADDY: "Isn't that a type of Camellia, Daddy?"
DADDY: "Well, it is, but it is also the proper name of the Japanese quince or Maule's quince."
SCOUT and ROSIE: "Oh! Thank you Daddy!"
PADDY: "Yes, thank you for correcting me, Daddy."
ROSIE: "You are so knowledgeable Daddy!"
SCOUT: "I bet you know the names of every flower, Daddy!"
DADDY: "Well, perhaps not every flower, Scout, but quite a few common ones."
SCOUT: "Daddy? Daddy! "
DADDY: "Yes Scout?"
SCOUT: "Do quinces help you..." *Lowers voice to a whisper.* "Go to the Lady Louisa?"
DADDY: "Well they can Scout if you eat too many of them, but they don't work as well as prunes do. Why do you ask, Scout? Do you need some help?"
SCOUT: "No! No! No, Daddy!" *Shakes head vehemently.*
ROSIE: "Good! Well, now I know that it isn't a prune tree! I like these Japonica flowers! They are pretty! Maybe we can pick some for mijn prins Peter" *Smiles.*
My Paddington Bear came to live with me in London when I was two years old (many, many years ago). He was hand made by my Great Aunt and he has a chocolate coloured felt hat, the brim of which had to be pinned up by a safety pin to stop it getting in his eyes. The collar of his mackintosh is made of the same felt. He wears wellington boots made from the same red leather used to make the toggles on his mackintosh.
He has travelled with me across the world and he and I have had many adventures together over the years. He is a very precious member of my small family.
Scout was a gift to Paddy from my friend. He is a Fair Trade Bear hand knitted in Africa. His name comes from the shop my friend found him in: Scout House. He tells me that life was very different where he came from, and Paddy is helping introduce him to many new experiences. Scout catches on quickly, and has proven to be a cheeky, but very lovable member of our closely knit family.
Rosie is Scout's cousin, because like Scout, she is a free trade knitted bear from Africa. She was made in Kenya by one of the Kenana Knitters, Martha Wanjira. She is made from home spun and dyed wool. She was a gift to me from two very dear friends, includng the one who gave Scout to Paddy.
Being colder here, Paddy and Scout are wearing hand knitted scarves, Paddy is wearing hand knitted hat and Rosie is wearing a hand knitted cape made by Lorna's Lovely Looks. Paddy sports a heart pin and Scout insisted on wearing a pink cupcake one, which seems most appropriate considering his perpetual grumbly tummy. Both were gifts from a good friend who is very fond of both Paddy and Scout.
shot on film....then heavily manipulated in color channels. the question mark shape was unintentional....wasn't until I had devoted time to the color channels that I even realized it was a question mark. the brain does some funky shit sometimes.
Why am I questioning my abilities? I feel like I'm doing nothing to achieve my dreams. Sure I'm in college but I haven't learned A SINGLE THING to help me become a better photographer or graphic designer. My world is blah. But then again, all I want to do is act. Yes, I've heard my chances are slim. But hey what if everyone gave up because their chance was slim? There would be nothing.
I love black and white. Thats all.
I'll see ya'll tomorrow.
EXPLORE FRONT PAGE #39
My teenage years passed by questioning what I loved most: colourful days or silent nights.
Some years I would think I loved the days more - the Sun, missed out during the night, was the brightest reason to feel happy in the morning.
So many years passed until I could realize- I am most myself at nights which are although sad or lonely most resemble my inner self.
So most of you know, I upload something, and go dark for a stupidly long time. After receiving some flickr mails questioning my continued existence, I confirm that I am alive. UPDATE. I went on a vacation with my family for the first half of the summer. When I got back, it was hotter than Satens tanning both, and the clay on my set was to liquidly to work with. So no animation YET! I have the scene mostly coriographed, and ready to go. IN THE MEAN TIME, I have been venturing into the lovely world of resin casting, and will continue to research. I am also making a deadpool figure, and some other stuff. AS FOR ANIMATIONS I have an old one I made in seventh grade I recently discovered, and posted it. I thought I posted something about it, but didn't, so sorry. Here's a link to this school project www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUWECTh6BYg
Please give me suggestions for sculpting techniques you may use, or info on resin casting. Also, if there are any figures on my stream you are interested in, let me know! Thanks!
~MLL~
Ivette--at Haulover Beach, Miami Beach, Florida. Used to be my screen-saver for the longest time. As of 1/11/15, this is the only photo of mine I've printed in a moderately large size (about 3 1/2 feet by 12 inches) since switching to digital back in 2010.
What follows is the story of my meeting this beautiful young lady:
During my February of 2011 trip to Miami Beach, as I often do, I visited Haulover Beach, the northern most part of which is Florida's only official nude beach. As is usually the case, upon arriving there I left my Nikon in the trunk of my car as cameras are rather frowned upon by most everyone at Haulover--at least, unsolicited picture taking is. It's like a code, and most everyone is watchful. Thus, I'd never taken pictures of the clientele there. I've taken my camera along briefly to have a picture taken of myself, or of the high rises to the North, or of the sea, but I take care not to point it at the beach-goers. Mind you, I think this "code" is silly. If people are going to show up naked on a public beach, then they ought to be willing to stand up and be counted as an adherent of naturism. If there's nothing wrong with being naked out in the open, that why get apoplexy over the idea of someone snapping your picture? But there's no arguing with the prevailing mood, and getting into shouting matches--or worse, tug-of-wars with my camera--isn't my idea of a good time. So, I leave my picture taking of heavenly bodies to South Beach, where the hostility toward the photographer isn't nearly so extreme.
On this particular trip to Haulover, after settling in, I noticed (as if I could help it) a beautiful young woman standing at the ocean's edge practicing what I assumed was Tai Chi--though I actually had no real idea what Tai Chi looked like. But she was going through a whole series of slow-motion movements that looked at times a little like some kind of martial arts. She was topless, and wore tiny black bikini bottoms--or more like a cross between bikini bottoms and a thong--which matched her raven-black hair that was piled on the back of her head. She was of small frame, slender, but with a beautiful taper at the waist--gorgeous, essentially perfect buns and flawless skin. She faced the ocean the whole time so I could only see her back from my position--which was not fixed, incidentally as, like a magnet, she was drawing me to her. I was initially curious, but soon was utterly fascinated as this lovely woman slowly went through her paces. I had to wonder, was this entirely an exhibitionistic thing?--I certainly was not the only one on the beach who was captivated by her--or was it something done in spite of the those watching her?--perhaps some kind of meditative thing, or a communing with nature? Though these questions flashed through my mind, mostly, I just sat and pondered her beauty. I don't think I even had any specific sexual fantasies about her. More like, I just looked upon her with open mouthed wonder and appreciation, though I certainly ached to have a camera in my hands. Unfortunately, I hadn't joined the audience until the show had already started. I don't know how long it had gone on before I noticed her, but it was over all too quickly after arriving on the scene--perhaps five minutes. She dropped her hands to her side and stood motionless for a short time before slowly turning and walking not quite toward me, off to my left. This new aspect of this woman was as startling as the other, her small breasts befitting her slender body, and a face that was every bit as wonderful as her backside had been--dark eyes, a tiny nose and surprisingly round cheeks considering how slender she was. My eyes, like dozens of others, followed her as she found her place next to an apparent friend, and then sat gracefully down. Immediately, I thought about asking her if I could pretty please take pictures of her while she performed once again the movements that had so enraptured me. But I was sure that asking would only be a way of humiliating myself, at least in a small way, as she almost certainly would turn me down.
Wouldn't she?
I watched her intently, though newly cognizant of her eyes, I tried not to stare. She was so lovely it almost hurt to look at her, but still how could I help myself? The idea of her actually posing for me seemed to lie somewhere on the spectrum between far-fetched and ludicrous. Why would she consent to such a thing? Still, the idea of asking her persisted, and a battle between the "rational"--i.e., timid--me and the "irrational"--i.e., courageous--me raged on. I won't exaggerate, this battle wasn't a long one, but as it began I had little doubt that the me who knew his place would win out and I would let what scant opportunity there was to have her model for me pass . . . but two minutes later, somehow, I rose to my feet and found myself walking her way. Humiliation? I would survive after all. I stopped perhaps five feet in front of her, and she and her friend looked up at me, questioningly.
Somehow, I didn't stammer.
"Hello, Miss. I was watching you as you were communing with nature over there," motioning toward the spot where she had so recently stood, "and I thought you were strikingly beautiful. I wonder if you would mind posing for me--doing what you were doing? I'd be honored. I'm an amateur photographer you see." If my speech was lacking in sophistication or cleverness, at least it was coherent.
She was looking up at me with an expression that gave no hint of what her response would be, though I certainly feared the worst.
After perhaps three of the longer seconds I had experienced, she smiled a friendly smile and said, "Okay. Sure. Where is your camera?"
Narrowly avoiding swallowing my tongue, I replied, "It's out in my car. I'll run out and get it and be right back!"
"Okay," said she,"we'll be here."
I managed a smile and turned and hurried off, looking back once to ensure she was actually still there. I retrieved my shorts from where I had left them near the lifeguard tower, and as I left the beach area, slipped them on as nudity wasn't allowed off the beach. I walked/half ran over the path leading through the thick growth of sea grapes that protected passers-by from having their eyes despoiled by the sight of nude men and women, hurried past the bathroom, ran down the stairs to the tunnel (painted an almost fluorescent pinkish purple) that went underneath the A1A highway, over the short board walk that carried you across a bit of mangrove swamp, and out onto the parking lot. I quickly found my car, flung open the trunk, and grabbed my camera. I checked to make sure my battery was sufficiently charged and charged back toward the beach, retracing my steps. As I passed the bathroom, I ignored the urge to pee as I wished to waste absolutely no time getting back to my model. I sped past the sea grapes and quickly got out of my shorts, peering ahead to see if the young lady was still there, fearing that maybe this was all a joke and she would be hiding somewhere and watching to laugh uproariously at my disappointment.
But she was still there.
As I approached, she looked up and smiled, and rose to her feet--ever so much more gracefully than I ever could have.
"Okay." she pronounced--apparently a favorite word. "Now, you're not going to take any pictures of my face, right?" she asked, looking a bit concerned.
"Um, well, not if you don't want me to."
"Yes, I'd rather you not." She smiled slightly, and then turned and walked back toward the ocean. I followed, puppy like, in her wake. She stopped where the waves would just wash over her feet, and turned and asked, "Here?"
"That's great" I replied.
She then turned back to face the ocean and I backed away, having in my mind to take pictures with her beautiful body small against the backdrop of the huge sea and sky.
She began her posing, and I began my picture taking. Yes, I was disappointed that I was not going to be allowed to photograph her adorable face. That restriction would handcuff me considerably. Yet that disappointment was lost in the glare of what I COULD photograph. If I had had more time, I could have discovered many creative ways to capture her image frontally but still respecting her wishes, but free modeling doesn't last forever.
Several minutes into the session, she did something for which I am forever grateful. She undid her hair. So mesmerized was I with what she was presenting, it quite possibly never would have occurred to me to ask her to do this. But do it she did, letting down her luscious locks which fell more than halfway to her waist. After several more minutes, she turned to me questioningly, and I approached her with a couple of requests for further poses--one of which allowed me to capture a few images of a breast, and even a sliver of her face.
A few more minutes, and she was finished. Alas.
So enamored of her modeling potential, I offered to pay her for her further services. But unfortunately, she was not interested.
And so ended, 10 minutes after it started, my first session with a semi-nude model. It's hard to imagine me ever having a finer one--but hope lives eternal.
Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.
“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day."
Albert Einstein
Another year, and another round of questioning from Judge Raymond Boucher, the man who is leading the French investigation into my husband’s death! BTW, you see me standing outside the Criminal Justice Headquarters in Nice, wearing the red cocktail gown and matching fascinater I chose for my latest interrogation!
Judge Boucher: You can tell us everything now, Lady Rebecca. Joe the Juice has talked to the authorities in Luxembourg.
Lady Rebecca: Joe the who?
Judge Boucher: Joe the Juice. He has revealed the whole plot.
Lady Rebecca: What plot could this be?
Judge Boucher: Lady Rebecca, it would be better if you did not try to play these games with us. We know everything. Through Joe the Juice we have a direct connection from you, via Madame Phlomis Balomis, Colonel Barrington and the Duke of Burgundy. all the way to Pierre Collager himself! We can now see the whole pattern of the conspiracy.
Lady Rebecca: I know nothing about anyone named Joe the Juice. I think that any further questions about him should be referred to my legal council – Mr Leakey Cavendish, QC.
***
At any rate, my husband’s grand funeral went off without a hitch, and I have since left Monte Carlo for a short visit back to England - to celebrate the New Year down at Lyndon Towers, and to check on how things are going at The Salon. More details of some of the wicked fun and games we had over the holidays in my next posting!!!!
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to All My Friends and Fans!
xxxxx
Lady Rebecca Georgina Arabella Lyndon
Duchesse de la Baleine D’Or
There is no questioning who is in charge when this eagle patrols the skies above the Mississippi. There are literally thousands of birds on the river, but only one rules them all. www.troymarcyphotography.com
When I started self-portraiture I remember getting an email from someone telling me I'm too ugly to be in pictures. I remember being told I look too skinny, that I look too fat, that my photography would be better for choosing someone else to photograph. I remember questioning if the art world really needed another young white girl in pictures. I remember feeling guilty for not being comfortable enough around others to photograph them. I felt narcissistic for enjoying taking my own picture.
A decade of self-portraiture will show you things about yourself that can't be captured in pictures. Every week for the past 11 years I've taken pictures of myself. Every. Single. Week. I have watched my body transform. I have watched my face change. I can look at an image of mine and remember how I felt about myself that day - if I loathed the way I looked or loved it, or felt indifferent. I remember when those emails hurt. I remember when they stopped hurting. I remember when I learned to accept the proportions of my body, my nose, my face shape, my height, my weight.
Now I know what it feels like to practice body acceptance. I know what it's like to find compassion for the people who choose to look upon my craft negatively, because that is almost always a reflection of how they feel about themselves - about their body, about their art, about their life. And I know how it feels to find common ground in that search for acceptance, because we're all doing the best we can.
If anyone makes you feel less than worthy of your body, or less than deserving of acceptance, or less than beautiful in your skin...hold up a mirror to them and ask how they feel about themselves. That mirror is often the art we make in spite of the criticism. There it remains as a testament to our power.
Thank you to all who have been following this tale, and the pictures...
For this is the final end of both.
Just a reminder
The pictures that accompany this Tale tell a story of their own, and not one that matches the Tale being told in words.
A Wicked Turn
Acte 29
Lilly Unmasked
She stood hovering over him, smiling happily.
She intentionally was close enough that her brooch, and breasts, were teasingly hitting his nose!
“I had Supposed my friend, that I had given you ample enough lead!
He looked up at her questioningly
She reached down and played with her bright broach, hanging from her gown, positioned between her (very) perked breasts!
“Enough opportunity that you would have had this also from me! Imagine my surprise to still feel it prickling in its place untouched !!”
She held it glittering in front of his eyes...
She could see, that and despite his predicament, he wanted it!
Smirking she reached behind the brooch and unhooked it.
Then she leaned over, and placing her hands around his head, gently moved it forwards so that his mouth was touching the brooch.
She then moved up, making his mouth pull up the brooch till it came away from her gown and landed in his lap.
She twittered as she took in in hand, and slipped it down inside his pants, brushing along a now very wilted ‘John Thomas’
“There!”
She said, rising…
“That jobs done! I’ll retrieve it later Mr. Burglar!”
She went to the side of the room, as his eyes followed, and pulling out his full leather pouch from underneath the bed, picked it up and carried it triumphantly to the table.
He swore, chastising himself under his breath…
He had been just that close to reclaiming Mariette’s Jewels! But he still harboured hopes of a second chance reclaiming them before the light of daybreak!!
“So quite nice of you to bring me poor Mariette ’s jewels, my sweet burglar.”
She ran her fingers under his chin, tickling with her long fingernails, coloured to match her gown!
She purred evilly…
“How did you leave her then?
Hopefully, you stripped her of everything, then left her tied up and struggling!”
Despite himself, his ‘John Thomas’ began to prick up at this, something Lilly noticed!
“Good, Mariette deserved for that to happen!”
Lilly shivered with delight while saying this as she opening the pouch and began to rummage through it!
She selected the silvery case that had been collected from the master bedroom from inside the leather pouch!
Opening the case in front of his nose, he saw the shimmering pile of white diamonds and red rubies twinkling from inside.
She sat the silver case down on the table and reaching again inside his leather pouch, retrieved the antique jewelled mirror.
Saying as she admired herself in its reflection.
“I’ve always admired this mirror; glad you were able to steal it away from poor Mariette!”
Using the mirror, she put in the dangling earrings of the ruby stoned set, admiring their reflection in the mirror as she did so, with a sidelong glance to make sure her prisoner was watching!
He most decidedly was!
His drooling eyes were as wide as a deer caught in headlights!
Next, she pulled out the long glittering ruby necklace and faced him, the jewels dangling daringly in her hand…
She held up the necklace of rubies…
“You like these sir? I could tell!
she said enticingly waving the jewelled piece in front of his masked face, before elegantly fastening it around her throat, where they cascaded down in a most beckoningly manner.
She admired their shimmering reflection in the ornate silver jewelled hand mirror, smirking to herself!
Yes, he thought drooling over the enticing sight, he did like them, quite a bit actually, and would take as much great pleasure in recovering them from her as he had taken them from hapless Mariette!
He squirmed in his seat at the thought, causing Lilly to giggle!
She murmured…
“Poor Mariette!” Must ‘ave been devastated when she finally realized you weren’t that prat Gaston, and discovering the ending of her fine little game altered against her!
So, she knew he thought, and pondered what was in store for him now?!
Still prattling on about poor Mariette, Lilly continued to pull out the other ruby-encrusted pieces of the matching set.
Saucily dangling each piece tauntingly in front of his masked eyes…
Before slowly, carefully adorning her svelte brown satin clad figure with the fiery red glamorous little buggers!
When she had finished, Lilly stood before him and gave him her full attention.
He in return stared at her, keeping his expression poker-faced and unreadable
“I’m so sorry Mr. Burglar, did you still want these?”
She leaned over him, teasingly playing with jewels so that they flickered in the candles basking soft light.
He most certainly did want them, and his cuffed hands moved, his fingers flexing, itching to reclaim them from that deliciously lovely soft figure!
His mind’s eye quickly played out how he would have his revenge upon that pretty figure!
If only he could get his hands free, and he did so try very hard to do so at that moment!
Sensing his frustration, and maybe realizing what tiger she had by the tail, she smiled teasingly….
And backed away, taking her quite fetching figure and frenziedly sparkling jewels vexingly out of reach...
She went on….
“But they now belong to Lilly don’t they, my sweet burglar ?… However, there is something I can give you my dear…”
Then, looking once again ever like the cat eyeing the canary in his cage, Lilly unzipped her satin gown and let it slip down liquidly down from her figure.
She was now standing before him naked, her figure clad only in her jewels!
She reached over and pulled up and lifted off the black burglar’s mask, smiled deviously into his eyes, causing him to feel more than a slight prickling discomfort from down below as his ‘john Thomas’ rose to new eclectic heights!
She spoke with a whimsically foxy look spreading along her face as she pulled her long red hair up.
“So, Mr burglar? Did you like me better as a blonde?”
He sagely shook his head no, smiling into his wife Lilly’s hazel eyes!
she whispered deliciously to her husband, tickling him under the chin with ringed fingers, ….
“Game, Set and Match.. my darling role-playing thief!”
(Mariette/Lilly ) looked with sweet innocence down upon Michael, her husband (Mari in French), costumed as the cat burglar whom she had been calling Gaston/Mr. Burglar all evening!
He found the look upon her sly smiling face with her foxy grin, to be quite most enchanting… as it was, it always was!
Then Michael, with an even wider grin, spoke aloud for only the second time thus far this evening…
“The note luv, how did you know I was going to leave you there like that, and …where did you ever come up with the silly name of Gaston for me?”
“You’re a man my love, and like most, an easy predator to read!”
She tickled under his chin, then continued
“The names Gaston and Mariette? Got them all from the same place; from that old movie, we saw some time ago, where the thief claimed to be reformed in order to steal their jewel’s! Did you forget dearest? But then, you may have had other things on your mind tonight my darling!”
Lilly twittered as she rubbed a hand alongside his face, rings and bracelet delightfully shooting out blazing sparks.
He started to rise but was held firm by the handcuffs, damn he though, forgot about them, this was her part of the role play now, toying with the captured burglar!
Regaining his composure, he smiled and retorted
“Must have forgotten luv?
She squealed happily…
“So, you don’t remember the movie!”
“So you thought from the note, that Lilly was just going to be a second jewelled victim in the game needed to be robbed by the daring burglar!?
Lilly Scolded,
“No no no my sweet”…
“Lilly in the movie was a thief also, just like Gaston! Should have paid more attention to the movie Luv, and less to what your wife was wearing tonight naughty lad!”
And she tickled him underneath the chin in playful rebuff, Before going on...
“History always repeats itself my luv, and you should have been on the lookout for a trap from Lilly!”
Still trying unsuccessfully to recall the flick, he asked…
“So Gaston was taken in by Lilly in the also movie then?”
Lilly looked down upon her husband with a sly grin…
“He certainly was! And like tonight the thief Gaston” was successfully lured to his doom! “
As his wife explained, Her eyes had taken on a lustful glaze, and she bent down to him, her necklace swinging as provocatively as the expression on her face!
Wholeheartedly she kissed her husband as he tried unsuccessfully to raise his arms to her.
Giggling, she broke off and stood back, cheekily studying the bound “burglar” before her with a quite becoming self-satisfied smirk upon her charming face!
Then, again playing with the necklace, she smugly whispered down to him…
“But unlike poor Mariette, this necklace is safe from your clutches, as are the rest of my jewels!”
Shaking his head clear, trying to focus on how the game was turning against him, wondering how he could buy time to still get his hands on his wife’s jewels and come out, ahem! on top…
Then Michael tried to buy time by asking …?
“How did you slip out of here, get the pouch, and sneak back inside without me catching you then luv? Was that part of the movie also?”
He thought to himself that he needed to find the name of the movie to watch it again, and check his wife’s story about what had transpired….
He looked up at his wife’s smug face as she appeared to be about to answer his question…
“My secret!” she purred scrunching down…
“When your Lilly does not want to be caught, she won’t be... Words to the wise ‘Mr burglar’ …..and now that I have caught you my pet…..The game is up, and the last move will be mine!”
“La reine checmates son roi “
she whispered, in French, into his ear!
Bringing her jewels up close, whence they teasingly started sparkling radiantly in his eyes, like cascading rainbows of fiery colours , causing him to squint…
a zipper is heard being slowly pulled down
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Please allow me the break the fourth wall here...
Swiftly, if not modestly, the tales’ scene now cuts to the outside of the moonlit glen with the stone cottage in view. The candle is still flickering in the window… The difference is that now a pair of shadows can be seen moving about indecipherably inside the window’s view of the room…
If one moves closer, stealthy like a thief in the night, and listens in, the silence is quietly broken inside by a male voice asking,
But what was the name of the Movi….?
The last word is cut off abruptly with a heartfelt grunt and what may be described as a suckling noise can be heard!
Soon followed by male moans intertwined by the sounds of a girl’s deliciously mischievous giggling, a bit muffled like she may have something large in her mouth!
And, giving the couple inside their bit of privacy…
The story fades out here and ends!
August 12th, 2010
+3
Inspired by:
this,
Those are also some of my all-time favorite photographers on here.
Okay, first thing's first, NEVER do this. It was so freaking messy. and the glowsticks I got were cheap and the glowstick juice came off with water. Also, there are these little plastic/wax shards inside them that hurt if you step on them. Then, you get your parents questioning your sanity as to why you were alone, with the lights off, in a bathroom, in your bathingsuit, and a camera.
this is what I do for photography guys.
The June issue of my journal, The Question Mark, explores this question at questioning.org/Jun2023/home.html
The photo above, probably taken by my father, showed the home where I spent my early days, enjoying swimming, fishing and water skiing on the waters of Greenwich Cove.
I no longer think of this as home, as I have wandered hither and yon with my three cats, and have come to understand how we might create home wherever we live.
And sometimes, when romance is especially warm, we might feel most at home in our lover's arms, as expressed in the poem below.
Next to you
Lying next to you
I melt
Softened by your heat
I am butter soaking into toast
I am man loving woman
I am sun sinking into ocean
A sky ablaze with rose-tinted light
Waking next to you
I linger
Savoring your touch
Your scent
Your gentle breathing
In and out
At home in my arms
Sleeping the deep sleep
Living next to you
My palette is more vivid
My palate more complex
Life is shining and exuberant
Time slowed
Rhythm quickened
Pulse intense
Writing next to you
My words flow like a swollen river
Poem after poem after poem
As love and passion press me like a lemon
And juice pours out
Lyrically
While I surrender
Thankfully
© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved
You will find more of my poems and songs here
and in The Storm in Its Passing and Flights of Fancy.
My songs are at
The police officer has caught an escaped criminal and has taken him back to the police station for questioning
I know I do this questioning a lot and it comes across as self doubt and all that jazz it might even seem I am looking so comments. In truth I like to know if what you see is what I see or at feel. Now I know we don't always look good and sometimes we pass effortlessly and others we come across as sea monsters.
Last night I went out with a lovely group of friends (sorry no photos) Kay, Jenn, Amanda and my wife. We all had differing looks and as my wife is a retro girl I decided not to compete and sport a different style to hers.
I felt the complete woman and was totally happy with my look even if it was a little typical tranny lol, while sat eating I was thinking what the other customers were seeing, then I wondered what you would think if you happened to be sitting on a table next mine?
This is getting a little lost in translation. Basically if you saw me sitting opposite you as I am above what would your thoughts be. Be honest I will only block you if I don't like the reply lol. I won't really xxxx
Betty & Veronica (2018-) # 3
“Senior Year, Pt. 3: Winter”: Betty’s severely questioning her college options while Veronica’s father meddles with her college plans once more—she’s upset, but something happens that makes it even harder for her to tell him how she feels.
Mighty Morphin Power Rangers # 36
The newly-assembled Power Rangers put everything on the line to win the battle but now a war has begun...and it's one they never anticipated! But if Grace thought her new team had time, she's wrong—the universe itself is collapsing!
True Believers: Captain Marvel - The New Ms. Marvel (2019) # 1
Published: February 27, 2019
Reprinting Ms. Marvel (1977) # 20!
Superior Spider-Man (2018-) # 3
Outpowered and outclassed by Terrax, Otto Octavius somehow turns himself into the COSMICALLY POWERED SUPERIOR SPIDER-MAN! This may not be enough to defeat Terrax, but even if it is, is the world ready for an Otto Octavius with this level of power?!
November 07, 2015
"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." - Albert Einstein
------
A rather quiet day around the house; started out by meeting Nard and Jo for breakfast, then came home and sort of puttered around the house until Dawn sent me a message asking for use of my washing machine.
It seems I have the largest washing machine in the neighbourhood, so this isn't a strange request, especially when it comes time to wash duvets and king sized blankets.
I wasn't feeling very creative or motivated to go for a walk today, so just a portrait of Dawn's daughter examining the bird seed from one of my bird feeders while her Mom was in my house dealing with her laundry needs.
Not my best photo of her, but it does highlight her continuous curiosity.
Hope everyone has had a good day.
Click "L" for a larger view.
Despite the lifelong questioning, angst and confusion over my motivations I have about my transvestism I do know one thing, I truly love doing it! Increasingly, I find myself withdrawing and though I was never actually socialising as a transvestite, I feel in the current climate I should be more cautious and ensure I keep my activities very private and avoid any form of risk that may cause me to be outed.
I’ve noticed increasing hostility in both peoples attitudes and the media awards transgender people and to my dismay, publicly views are becoming polarised on both sides of the argument. I have in the past encountered negative and hostile experiences from within the rans community to my own personal feelings on my cross-dressing which has only made me feel in order to gain the most enjoyment I should avoid contact with others.
The current political situations are feeling more militant in general and I feel things are going backwards just now. I find the whole thing unnerving and I fear if I were to be discovered as a transvestite it would hurt my family. This is a prospect I cannot bear to even imagine so I think for me keeping things as private as possible is the safest choice.
You may ask then why am I posting here on Flickr? Despite my concerns and fears I still find I need some emotional outlet for my transgendered self and so, for now, I am using Flickr. It has not always been a comfortable place for me but cannot escape my need to have some existence as a woman. My Flickr photo stream is where the female aspect of me can feel alive. I do fear being undermined but I find writing alongside my pictures is a great hep to me in not being to contained about my transvestism. It is a risk and I feel certain one day it will be my undoing as I continue to post but it as an outlet that is helping me express my thoughts and the memories of actually cross-dressing as a woman.
My cross-dressing activities are limited, very rare and undeniably precious. Most men have no desire to dress amp and try to look like women so think we are weird for doing it. I don’t really understand why I desire to do it. I have at times thought I knew but my thoughts are never consistent. I do know I love it and feel amazing so that is good, a lovely reward for me. I do fear though what others would say if they found out. I have heard some very anti-transgender conversations recently in the workplace, many between women. It made me aware that attitudes with some people are not positive towards trans people. A few years ago I was rather hopeful as acceptance seemed to be improving in a positive direction. Political changes in the last few years seem to have set things back and made me wary.
I was considering my use of Flickr as I only visit fleetingly. I literally dip in and out of it about once a week. The act of posting a picture or video is the thing I need to do so the female she of me feels alone in some way. After that, I bide my time for the next, what I feel to be reckless posting as past history has proven to me that expressing one’s feelings can lead to derision.
As I mentioned though, I need an outlet so I go ahead and post. I’ll admit I dare not even look at anything I post once it is on Flickr. It is the actually act of posting that is fulfilling a need. If anyone were to comment on my postings I’m not sure I have the nerve to read them. I have never been confident about my cross-dressing abilities, I never have been and I’m unlikely to be in the future, it’s simply how I always feel about it. I actually feel less confident of my efforts as I get older. I think it's an ability you either have or you haven't. I've never believed I ever had the skills to look female but I definitely have the aspiration! I understand now that my expression of my female side is an activity that is always going to be one I do alone. I’m not depressed by that, so don’t think I seek sympathy as I do not. I actually feel safe with that scenario and more at ease as I am minimising the risks I fear that could undo me.
I accept others will hold different views to my own and have different experiences relating to their cross-dressing ll I am seeking is a scenario that I can feel comfortably and safe with and avoid any potential negative experiences. i do adore easing up as a woman and will admit to having worked on my physicality to favour looking more male than male. I don’t mean I have undergone any medical treatments or surgery, it’s more simple than that. I have worked keeping my weight down to have a better feminine looking figure and I have maintained shaped and groomed eyebrows for many years now as well as shaving my legs, chest and arms regularly. I also try to avoid developing a muscular look as I want my legs and arms to look more feminine than masculine.
All these little efforts are things that are worthwhile when I get an opportunity to apply make-up and wear a dress and high heel shoes and enter a more feminine world in my head. This picture is a still frame from a recent video (February 2019) which I felt captured my sheer joy at appearing as my female self, I was full of euphoria that night. Such moments are o powerful and the memory burns within me fora very long time.
In response to those questioning if I was out on the water Dec 23, 2016, this is my answer.
------------------------------------------
118/100 Paddles, 2016
I’ve known since I was in my early teens that I had a strong desire to dress as a girl. If I’m honest, back then, especially where I grew up, this not only confused me but caused me a lot of angst as it was going against how I was expected to be in the society I lived in.
As I have grown older the desire to take on a female appearance has intensified and exists very powerfully within me. I do feel more at ease with my feelings of wanting to spend time as a woman yet I still have fears and doubts that linger. I do not feel I will ever quite reach a point in my life where I feel one hundred percent at ease. The thing is, I adore becoming a woman and love how I feel and much prefer it to being a man and yet these fears and questioning my motives still exist and intrude on me.
The other week while enjoying time as my female alter-ego I decided to record this video in which I mused to my camera about the scenario I outlined. I still have no clear answers. I have no idea if anyone will watch the video or even feel any connection with what I felt I had to express on that evening.
I nee to say I do get a lot of reward and have a lot of fun and enjoy my time as a woman so I hope I do not give the impression of being down as in reality I feel quite the opposite. Spending time as a woman is always a positive experience. I just feel after decades of self suppression I finally want to talk openly about what I am feeling in regard to my transgender feelings.