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"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning."
Albert Einstein
"Apprendre d'hier, vivre pour aujourd'hui et espérer pour demain. La chose importante est de ne pas cesser de s'interroger."
The Flat
A Distracting Gem.
She crouched like a cat in the shadows… Dressed in a tight black spandex jogging suit, she was almost invisible, except for her long ginger hair that fell past her shoulder in curling silken waves. She didn’t care if her hair was seen, after all, what was life without a bit of challenge?
As one of her mom’s countrymen would say:
We learn from failure, not from success! Abraham (Bram) Stoker,
She was looking through a tall hedge, past a row of neatly trimmed roses, to a large dark stone manor house that had been repurposed into four flats.
The house lay on the opposite side of a well-manicured green lawn.
It looked like a golfing green she thought, Licking her red lips, as she pulled something black out of the brown leather satchel that was held by a strap to her shoulder.
She looked down at the fuzzy black material in her left hand, a black ski mask, well worn. She smiled as she opened the mask and slipped it over her head, adjusting it so her sharp grey eyes could see out the eye holes. She pulled out the thin black silk gloves, and with a business-like manner, slipped them on.
She was ready, the time was ripe.
Stretching up like a cat does from being stationary for far too long, she felt her muscles deliciously relax, ready to pounce.
She turned her attention back to four flats … it was the top flat that was her objective,
No lights had been turned on, no one had come back home…
Her thoughts went back to earlier that evening when she and her fellow thief Emy, had cased a party together:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Emily had worn a salmon color satin blouse, a black tube skirt in combination with opaque black stockings, and also black high heels. A wide necklace of glimmering gemstones hung with a mesmerizing sway from her throat. Looking sharp as a tack, she was the lure, the distraction maker, bait for the rich quarry.
Cassie, Emy’s ginger-haired partner, was the lift, the inside thief. It was her job to gather the information once they had selected a likely victim. She was dressed in a sensible black velvet dress with pearls.
Tonight it had been instantaneous and collectively deciding between the pair of female thieves as to who that victim would be.
An elegant lady wearing a long black gown of expensive satiny material was stunningly sporting a collection of diamond jewelry that made one wish they had on sunglasses. Her wealthy husband was handsomely attired in fitted tux and tails.
The pair of thieves quickly made the couple their focus.
On one of his numerous forays away from his wife, the thieves moved in.
As Emy distracted the wealthy lady, Cassie snuck in from behind and lifted the expensive purse of gold chain that she had been carrying, from the table behind her.
Cassie had left the party, and using the information she found amongst the expensive items inside the(£580 costing ) purse, had gone to stake out the couple's flat.
Finding the layout to be quite to her liking, Cassie changed into her burglar’s outfit and entered the grounds.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
An owl hooting broke into her thoughts.
She shook her head clear of those delightful thoughts.
Silently she moved off along the hedgerow, sneaking up to a small wrought iron garden gate a good 200 yards off.
Nimbly she grasped its ornate top, and jumped over it, landing in a crouch, looking all about.
She was in, no turning back now, not that she would have ever dreamed of doing so. The riches she imagined inside the flat , like catnip to a cat, were a far too tempting a lure to resist….
She moved off, soon lost in the swirling mists coming in on cats' pads from a nearby bog.
Reaching the outside of the house, she saw a long iron trellis had been bolted to the side of the wall running up next to each of the balconies of the flats. Four in total. One at each level. The trellis was covered in ivy up to the roof
This was how Cassie intended to enter.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^*^^^^^^^^^^^
Cassie swiftly climbed up the metal trellis, her lithe figure easily maneuvering up to the top floor.
A stone gargoyle, a relic from when the manor housed a single family, glared down at her. Cassie blew it a kiss as she climbed over a thin wall into the stone balcony of the empty 4th flat.
Staying in the shadows, reaching a glass door, she easily picked open the lock and slipped inside.
As the burglar went in on her hunt, Her mind drifted to her old schools male induced Latin motto, the femininized version She had herself changed and had used in a school essay( and had received a stern lecture from the headmaster for doing so!)
“Et qui vincit, ipsa vincit”
She who conquers, conquers herself
Once inside Cassie allowed her eyes to adjust. Then reached inside her pouch and pulled out a small torch, using its thin beam of light to sweep the room, watching for anything shiny or glittery that may indicate an object(s) of value.
She was in the master bedroom. Savoring the elegantly beautiful items that were caught in her torch’s beam, Cassie decided to do the bedroom last, knowing most of the good stuff was here, in favor of checking out the rest of the flat.
Cassie crossed over to the fat door and opening it, entered into a large living room
Then she again casts her beam of light, quickly seeing a small elephant of green jade. She went over and snatched it up, placing it inside her leather satchel. Her light caught up several more small statues of silver, ebony, and more jade, and they all quickly were collected and placed in with the elephant.
On the far side was a pair of closed doors, on either side of the double main entrance doors.
Cassie went to the one on the right and discovered an obviously empty second bedroom. Pity no female guest was visiting. She didn’t bother checking the dressers. Took a quick look inside the closet. Here gowns were hanging. She ran her hand sling each one checking for brooches or pins that may have been left on the sleek scintillating material. Nothing other than some rhinestone decorations.
Cassie quickly vacated the room and tried the door on the left. It was locked.
As curious as any cat would be when finding a door locked, Cassie pulled out her thin pick and had the lock opened in record time. She opened the door, licking her lips as she slipped inside.
It was the husband’s study. The smoke of old cigars hung heavy in the atmosphere of the leather-accentuated room.
Her torch beam caught a solid silver frame on a fireplace. She went over. It was a wedding picture of the couple. The bride was wearing an eye-catching scooped necked cream satin gown, with mouth-watering diamonds dripping down along her model-like figure. Cassie liked the picture so much that she kept it in the silver frame as she stuffed it inside her satchel. None of the other pictures had expensive frames.
Cassie then went over to the desk.
Snatching up a solid gold table lighter, and silver cigar cutter, and a matching silver cigar case, filled. The husband must have another with him, probably gold. The cigars would be a victory smoke later if this heist was pulled off.
There was a decanter with matching glasses on the desk. An amber liquid inside the decanter looked appealing and Cassie took a small swig. Expensive brandy burning sweetly down her throat.
She looked around the room, it looked, felt, and smelled of wealth, and power.
She swept her beam on the rug, noticing a slightly worn path that led to the wall behind the desk chair. There was a picture, of no value, hanging there.
Correctly reading the signs, Cassie walked to the picture and placed her hand on one side feeling a hinge. Going to the other side she swung the picture out, revealing a wall safe.
Almost purring, Cassie began working the tumblers, easily hearing them in the dead silence of the flat. Then the sweet sound of a click, and the door was opened.
She put the torch in her mouth to free her hands.
Her light caught a few piles of cash, fat envelopes, velvet-covered cases, and small boxes of various colors and sizes.
Quickly the notes and envelopes were lifted out and placed in the satchel.
She reached in and lifted out a velvet case. Opening it her eyes were met by the sparkling that only the most expensive jewelry can give off. She closed it and slipped it inside the leather satchel at her side. Then quickly scooped up the remaining cases and boxes. All felt heavy, filled with more jewelry she didn’t bother to inspect.
Something odd caught her eye in the back of the safe. Reaching in she pushed a button set in the back, that had been exposed by the removal of the jewel cases. The back slid open, exposing a small niche in the wall… Cassie gasped.
For there, in all, it’s glory, was a diamond tiara, worth a king's ransom!
She reached in and plucked it out, mesmerized by its beautiful shimmer. She placed it greedily inside the satchel.
Finished she closed the safe, turned the tumblers, and swung closed the picture
Not bothering to check the desk drawers, Cassie quickly exited the room, closing and locking the door.
Then she made a beeline back to the master bedroom. To be quickly(she was sure all the ‘good stuff in the flat had been found) and expertly looted before making her escape on the bedroom’s stone balcony.
Entering the room she followed her beam to the bed, where she had spotted a jewellery case on a small table.
The car burglar quickly began scooping out the compartments of the jewelry case. Day jewels of Gold, silver, pearls, and several pieces of gemstone encrusted lovelies. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings. All deliciously expensive in their own right.
She went to the other side of the bed where the oak doors of the closet sat shut.
Opening them she found more expensive clothes.
Satins, velvets, silks, and more. She again ran her fingers along the sleek materials. This time being rewarded with a diamond clip on a Raylon dress, and a sapphire broach from the high ruffled neckline of a satin blouse, along with a thick gold pin from a velvet jacket. All of which were plucked off and added to the valuable collection inside her now heavy satchel.
Suddenly She hears the outside door of the flat click open, and a light comes on in the living room. Cursing herself for not locking the bedroom door, Cassie hides inside the closet.
A figure swished in.
It’s the wife.
Cassie pressed into a corner of the closet, ready to spring.
The elegantly attired lady crossed to the bathroom, Turning on the light.
She turns towards the dresser inside the bedroom next to the bathroom door.
Her elegant satin gowned figure is bathed in light, diamond heavy jewels glittery.
The burglar’s heart leapt to her throat. Was she going to have the opportunity to acquire those jewels also? Where was the bloody husband?
It was then she heard a bird's call from outside. The burglar knew it was her partner Emy, giving a warning.
“Too late luv.”
The lady of the house meanwhile is removing her earrings, bracelet, and rings, laying them on the dresser. She then approached the bed, not seeing the burglar crunching in the shadowy corner of a closet door that was open a crack.
Her necklace and broach blaze into fiery life as she bends down and picks up her satin robe from the bed.
Turning away, she swished across the oak wood floor and enters the bathroom.
The burglar began to move as soon as the lady disappeared into the bathroom.
Cassie sat the satchel down by the closed glass doors leading to the balcony.
Reaching the dresser she looks inside the bathroom and sees the lady admiring her necklace in the mirror.
Meanwhile, the cat burglar’s gloved hands are quickly picking up and pocketing the diamond earrings, bracelet and rings from the top of the dresser. Placing them all inside her pants' deep pockets. Along with a small carved ivory statue of St. Patrick holding a 24k gold staff.
Cassie daringly held her ground, watching the lady remove her gown and hang it up next to the bathroom’s vanity on a hook next to the mirror. Next, she slips off her silky undergarments. Now naked, she turns and goes to the shower and turns it on.
Going back to the mirror the lady removed her necklace and laid it carefully on the vanity. Her beautifully bare figure in profile to the watching thief.
Cassie had to admit to feeling a bit of tingling in certain areas. And it wasn’t just from the diamond necklace laying so tantalizing close in reach.
The wealthy lady enters the shower, failing to notice the figure watching her at the door.
As the lady begins to hum inside the shower, the thief is also humming to herself, as she sneakily enters the now steamy bathroom.
Lifting the necklace she admired it’s dazzling radiance before placing it inside her pocket. Then Cassie, eyeing the diamond brooch, cautiously goes to the hanging gown.
Only inches away, the thief freezes as the lady in the shower says:
“Is that you honey? I need a washcloth.”
She holds out her hand, beckoning for it, a gold ring set with diamonds flashes from her pinky.
The cat burglar looks around quickly spying a washcloth. With daring, she lifted her mask, She carried it over to the voluptuous nude figure outline behind the shower curtain, holding it up, she used it to take hold of the hand.
Then leans over, licking the lady’s fingers with her tongue. Sucking off the ring easily from a soapy pinky.
“Silly!, I know that ring always is bloody tedious to remove after wearing it out. Thank you for taking it off for me.” The lady says snagging the washcloth and going back to her showering without looking out.
The thief meanwhile had spit out the ring, pocketed it, then grabbed the gown off the hook, backing out.
When she is at the door, the thief says to herself:
“Thanks for the jewels, and the heads up about your husband, Honey”
The thief turns and goes for a listen at the bedroom door. She heard the clinking of ice being placed in glasses inside the study.
She closes and locks the bedroom door.
She turns and goes back out onto the bedrooms balcony
Whistling to the shadows below, Emy emerged, looking up with brite , questioning eyes
She nimbly caught the satin gown, weighted with the brooch, falling straight, as it was thrown down.
Blowing yet another kiss to the menacingly grinning stone gargoyle, Cassie makes her way back down, the bulging leather satchel strung over her back.
Below, Emy watched as her partner finally reach the ground.
Cassie gives Emy, who had been admiring the diamond broom, a thumbs up, patting the bulging satchel.
They give each other an exciting hug.
Both then turn and steal their way across the now heavy mist-filled yard. Disappearing into the night.
Another adventure attained…
Fini
Online sources describe this little gazebo as the Monastery Chapel of St Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery in the Ukrainian capital, Kyiv. It sits in the monastery's grounds, just north of the main monastery church. I can find no further information about it.
St. Michael’s Golden-Domed Monastery (Ukrainian: Михайлівський золотоверхий монастир, Mykhaylivs’kyi zolotoverkhyi monastyr) is a functioning monastery in the city centre of Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. The monastery is located on the right bank of the Dnieper River on the edge of a bluff northeast of the Saint Sophia Cathedral. The site is located in the historic administrative Uppertown and overlooks the city’s historical commercial and merchant quarter, the Podil neighbourhood.
Originally built in the Middle Ages by Sviatopolk II Iziaslavych (regnat 1050-1113), the monastery comprises the Cathedral itself, the Refectory of St. John the Divine, built in 1713, the Economic Gates, constructed in 1760 and the monastery’s bell tower, which was added c. 1716–1719. The exterior of the structure was rebuilt in the Ukrainian Baroque style in the 18th century while the interior remained in its original Byzantine style. The original cathedral was demolished by the Soviet authorities in the 1930s, but was reconstructed and opened in 1999 following Ukrainian independence in 1991.
During the Mongol invasion in 1240, the monastery is believed to have been seriously damaged. The Mongols damaged the cathedral and removed its gold-plated domes. The cloister subsequently fell into disrepair and there is no documentation of it for the following two and a half centuries. By 1496, the monastery had been revived and its name was changed from St. Demetrius’ Monastery to St. Michael’s. In 1620, Iov Boretsky made it the residence of the renewed Orthodox metropolitan of Kiev, and in 1633, Isaya Kopynsky was named a supervisor of the monastery.
During the first half of the 1930s, various Soviet publications questioned the known historical facts regarding the age of the Cathedral. The publications stressed that the medieval building had undergone major reconstructions and that little of the original Byzantine-style cathedral was preserved. This wave of questioning led to the demolition of the monastery and its replacement with a new administrative centre for the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic (previously located in the city of Kharkiv). Before its demolition (8 June – 9 July 1934), the structure was carefully studied by T.M. Movchanivskyi and K. Honcharev from the recently purged and re-organized Institute of Material Culture of the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences. On the basis of their survey, the cathedral was declared to belong primarily to the Ukrainian Baroque style, rather than to the twelfth century as was previously thought, and thus did not merit preservation due to its lack of historical and artistic value. This conclusion backed up the Soviet authorities' plans to demolish the entire monastery. Local historians, archaeologists, and architects agreed to the monastery's demolition, although reluctantly. Only one professor, Mykola Makarenko, refused to sign the demolition act; he later died in a Soviet prison.
In August 1963, the preserved refectory of the demolished monastery without its Baroque cupola was designated a monument of architecture of the Ukrainian SSR. In 1973, the Kiev City Council established several "archaeological preservation zones" within the city; these included the territory surrounding the monastery.
After Ukraine regained independence in 1991, the demolition of the monastery was deemed a crime and voices started to be heard calling for the monastery's full-scale reconstruction as an important part of the cultural heritage of the Ukrainian people. These plans were approved and carried out in 1997–1998, whereupon the cathedral and belltower were transferred to the Ukrainian Orthodox Church - Kiev Patriarchate. Yuriy Ivakin, the chief archaeologist for the site, said that more than 260 valuable ancient artifacts were recovered during excavations of the site before reconstruction. In addition, a portion of the ancient cathedral, still intact, was uncovered; this today makes up a part of the current cathedral's crypt.
The newly rebuilt St. Michael's Golden-Domed Cathedral was officially opened on 30 May 1999. However, interior decorations, mosaics, and frescoes were not completed until 28 May 2000. The side chapels were consecrated to SS. Barbara and Catherine in 2001. During the following four years, 18 out of 29 mosaics and other objets d'art from the original cathedral were returned from Moscow after years of tedious discussion between Ukrainian and Russian authorities. The remaining frescoes were finally transferred from St Petersburg’s Hermitage in 2009 but placed in a separate preserve.
The St. Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery became the headquarters of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine after the church's creation on 15 December 2018. St. Michael's Golden-Domed Monastery is used as the headquarters of the Metropolitan of Kiev and all Ukraine. The rector of the monastery has the rank of diocesan bishop.
This description incorporates text from the English Wikipedia.
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Yesterday, after the light was gone; and where is all this leading? And, he is asking, if art, then what for? Or he is not even questioning that, as also the point of questioning it is vanishing fast. “We’re not getting any younger, you know? And not getting anywhere, or at least, so it seems.” He said, leaning on the bar, almost loosing his balance. “We once had dreams. But that is actually not true: We only now wished we had dreams we did not achieve, that would make it simpler to explain why we are disappointed. Now it almost looks we’re disappointed for no apparent reason. We despise others who have reached what we never actually wanted. Yet, the envy. The pity for ourselves. The feeling of having lost something without exactly knowing what. It’s not like I had great aspirations as a director. Oh, yes, once I had those. But putting in the work? I was not willing to do that. I never really learned how to actually do the work. It is my laziness.”
'Love is all you need '
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Pride Month (LGBT Pride Month) is celebrated annually in June to honor the 1969 Stonewall riots, and works to achieve equal justice and equal opportunity for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (LGBTQ) Americans.
Washington Square Park
ManHatTan
Photography’s new conscience
The title does not lie. When I first came across this, I was a bit hesitant to photo it as Astra GTEs, while not common, aren't of particular interest to me. But I'm so glad I did, as it turns out this isn't a Mk2 Astra, it is a Daewoo Nexia. Some madman has decided to make an Astra GTE replica out of a Daewoo. On the one hand I am incredibly impressed, on the other I'm questioning it's existence and also mine. What reality have I fallen into?
J800 GTE
All images copyright © olivia house / ©oliviahousephotography. All rights reserved. Use without permission is illegal.
this is me questioning people "do you ever wonder what it feels like to put on glasses every morning?"
i'm sure many people have other things that they question people about.
this just happens to be my thoughts of the day.
on a second note, i've decided i'd take the 365 challenge.
knowing me, i'd forget on some days cause of my ADD-ness,
but besides that i'm very excited about it ( :
The penchant of questioning everything is a prerequisite for anyone nurtured in the scientific method, as I was. Even St. Paul said "test everything".
And yet, there are times when rational thought is not enough. Sometimes we just have to believe in something enough to allow us to enter through that portal into the unknown land beyond, as these children are about to do.
After all, we read "Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”.
Rational? Not hardly. Crucial at times? You bet.
Press L please
“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.”
~Albert Einstein
Just did a bit of an overhaul in terms of my blog and logo! And by logo overhaul, I mean I created one! Check out my blog or website to see it!
One more from the 50mm! And a non HDR too! I took this one last week on my way home during the mini snow storm we got, because I took the series I just posted. I debated about whether or not to straighten it, and at first i did, exported it, and was ready to upload, then decided I didn't really like it. So this is the one I went with, slight tilt, as I was taking it out of my car window!
Thanks for stopping by everyone and have a great Tuesday!
I don't mind invitations, but please no big, shiny, flashing, glitter graphics, they will be deleted. Also, please contact me if you would like to use my pictures for any reason, as all rights are reserved. Thanks!
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DCU Shazam! - Issue #12
At the end of another school day, Billy and Freddie are ecstatic to get home as soon as possible, so they can go Superhero-ing for what must be the fifth day in a row now.
However, just outside Fawcett City High School, they spot a small crowd, with the bully Matthew Morris stood somewhere in the middle of it.
Billy Batson: “Oh what are they doing this time?!”
Billy and Freddie make their way through the crowd to see Matthew Morris and 4 of his cronies holding Eugene and punching him! Dexter Knox, one of my fellow classmates, is recording the whole thing with his camcorder.
Matthew Morris: “We know you and your stinking sister uploaded it, Eugene! Just admit it!”
Eugene Choi: “It wasn’t me! I have no idea what your talking abou-”
Matthew hits him in the face again. Freddie steps up and tries to pull them off him, but he gets pushed down easily.
Matthew Morris: “Stay out of this, Freeman! Unless you know something too?!”
Freddie Freeman: “What are you even on about?!”
Matthew Morris: “The video, Freeman! Eugene here was sharing it around at lunch in the computer room, the one your stupid little sister taped. They uploaded it to Newground.com!”
Freddie Freeman: “Haha, well now everyone knows it, Morris! Did you think of that? Ahaha! AHAGH!”
They grab Freddie and pin him to the ground, questioning him about it and bully him too. Instinct tells him to get in there and help my friend, but I have a better idea. I run across the road, away from the school and the fight and into the woods.
Matthew Morris: “That’s right, Batson! Run! RUN AWAY!”
A few seconds later, I come flying out of the trees towards the fight, except I’m not myself anymore. Matthew’s Gang immediately back off Freddie and Eugene, and Freddie smiles at me knowingly, even through his new black eye. The crowd looks at me in awe.
Shazam: “Didn’t you know? Fighting is against the school rules!”
Using my Hyper-Speed, I fly around and wedgie all the bullies, then I pick up Matthew by his underwear and hover above the crowd
Matthew Morris: “I-I-I’m sorry, Mister! It won’t happen again Sir, I promise!”
Shazam: “I should like to think so! Now scram!”
I drop Matthew and he flees along with the other four bullies. I feel more courageous than I’ve ever felt before. I feel invincible!
Eugene Choi: “Thank you, Mister… Mister…”
Freddie Freeman: “Shazam! His name is Shazam!”
Shazam: “That’s right, citizen! Now, get home safe and remember to do your homework!”
I do my best Superman impression before flying off into the sky. I then circle back around and fly into the woods to get my school stuff that I dropped off and meet back with Freddie and Eugene. Turns out that Dexter was still holding his camcorder and recorded the whole encounter. I sneak into the back of the crowd that is huddled around watching it.
Eugene Choi: “You have to upload that tonight, Dexter!”
Dexter Knox: “I will, Eugene! Oh hey Billy, you missed the whole thing!”
Freddie looks back at me, smirking.
Billy Batson: “Oh yeah, totally… I guess we have a new superhero in town, huh?”
Dexter Knox: “I guess so! He’s my favourite already. It’s about time somebody put Matthew in his place.”
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Please credit and comment! Feedback always appreciated! :D
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I posted a shot of this one a few years ago, questioning whether it qualified as an arch if the rock span wasn't at all archy. That day, even with the rock span being as straight as Anita Bryant, the shadow formed a fine arch.
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Summer 2018 3rd leg: We'd planned a few weeks in southern Colorado, then wised up and went to Utah instead.
June 17: Starting at Chimney Rock, we hiked down Lower Spring Canyon. A repeat for us, but it was totally worth doing again and we made it even further than we had last time.
Since Phillip's disappearance yesterday, Marble has been lost. Fear has kept her from entering the dust bunny hole herself but she will do it if it comes down to it. First she has decided to write them a letter, a friendly letter. She will start out with thanking them for eating all the dust in her room and then move into the questioning of Phillip's where-abouts! "Now", she wonders, "how do I spell dear?".
“Questioning is the door of knowledge” Irish proverb.
I can only wholly agree with this proverb. The photo is of an old door knocker I saw in a small village in France. No textures were hurt in the making of this image.
Please view in full size for the best effect.
In the Modern several years ago: she was critiquing the increasing practice of taking photos in museum as a substitute to taking time to look...
Previous edit in color
This month's issue of my Question Mark asks "What is beauty?" and "What is beautiful?" questioning.org/Feb2024/beauty.html
This portrait of Mia Shy, the model who portrayed three "Leading Ladies" in my gallery at fno.org/Gallery/gallery.html appears at the outset of the article.
Beauty, it turns out, can be a tyrant and a killer, but how often do we think about that aspect of the word?
Those with eating disorders and depression related to their body-images may find beauty a harsh master.
Continued at questioning.org/Feb2024/beauty.html
Well, I was worried when I saw the first IRL pics of the new Adele 1.0 that she didn't look like her promo shots... But I needn't have worried! In fact I like the slight questioning, almost fierce look that my doll has 😍 She's AWESOME!!! 💗💗💗
A Somber Duty/GC9 Restricted
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As soon as she spotted the horse and rider, Evellyn Akeyla felt an unexplainable sense of foreboding start to build within her.
She had stepped out into the brisk morning air, closing her cabin’s door behind her, and been immediately greeted by her horse, Coca.
“Good morning,” She said, smiling as she let Coca have an apple she’d brought out for her. The horse nuzzled against Evellyn’s face, and she reached to stroke the soft neck.
Preoccupied as she was, it had taken her a minute to register the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Once she’d registered them, it had only taken her a few seconds to locate their source.
The approaching rider was hard to make out through the heavy trees, but, though she hoped it, she could still tell it wasn't her brother Roy, come back from the war.
She squinted, and peered more closely as the rider came closer. To her surprise, though it wasn't Roy, she did know the rider, at least by reputation, more so than description. She had heard a lot about this man. The rider was Sir Haymar Glen!
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As the farmhouse came into sight, Haymar sighed, mentally and emotionally prepping himself
for the depressing duty he, as leader of his army, must fulfill. With a heavy heart, he and Dracus rounded the last bend and came to a halt in the yard fronting the little cabin and stable.
A beautiful young woman stood beside the stable, watching him silently. She wore her pale blond hair long, pulled into a loose swept back ponytail. Two thick strands of loose hair framed a strong face, with full lips and piercing gray eyes. She wore woods garb, and had a quiver and longsword slung over her right shoulder. A powerful recurve bow sat nearby, within easy reach.
As he dismounted, the other’s eyes followed his every move. One hand rested lightly on a throwing hatchet tucked through a loop in her belt.
Haymar turned towards her. “You are Evellyn Akeyla, I presume?”
Evellyn nodded, studying his strong, handsome face. “What brings the son of Lord Anthony Glen to my humble dwelling?” She asked, although a horrible suspicion began to form in her mind. An instant later, her worst fear was confirmed when Sir Haymar reached back and withdrew a wrapped bundle from his saddle.
“It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you your brother Roy is dead.” He said, sadness reflected in his face.
“No.” She said, staring at him. “It cannot be.”
“I’m afraid it is. These are his things,” He added, offering her the wrapped bundle, which she now saw contained Roy’s bow, quiver, and sword. She took it wordlessly, to shocked and horror-struck to speak.
“I am deeply sorry for your loss.” Haymar said softly, genuine regret and sorrow evident in his voice.
She looked at him, then down at the bundle in her arms, and felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. No, She thought, fighting them, Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of Sir Haymar. Try as she might however, they still came, flooding her vision. Finally, she gave in and let them flow in huge, heart-wrenching sobs, as she fell to her knees in the dirt, still holding the bundle, unaware of anything around her except her sorrow.
When Evellyn started crying, Haymar’s first instinct was to step forward and comfort her, but then he realized that might not be the best thing to do. She would probably want to be alone with her grief for a while, so he backed away several steps and waited for her to get through it.
——————————
Several minutes later, as he was brushing his horse, Haymar heard the crying subside. Turning away from Dracus, he saw Evellyn brush the hair away from her face as she looked up, eyes red. Haymar walked back over and offered her his hand. The other took it gratefully, and he pulled her to her feet. Evellyn took a deep breath to compose herself, than spoke, staring at her feet.
“Forgive me, sir. The grief was overwhelming.” She look up into his face. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Haymar smiled kindly. “I won’t. And please, call me Haymar. All my friends do.”
Evellyn smiled somewhat, recognizing he was saying she was his friend now.
They stood there for a few moments more, than Haymar turned away.
“Perhaps I should leave now.” He said, starting towards his horse.
“No, wait,” Evellyn said urgently, “Please stay awhile longer. I need to hear how he died.”
And I need the company, She thought, but wasn’t willing to say it out loud. Instead, as he turned back, she said; “Forgive my manners. Please, come in and have a cup of coffee, and tell me what happened.”
She turned and led the way inside her modest cabin, setting the bundle containing Roy’s weapons on the bed, then moving over to the fireplace as Haymar sat at the small table in one corner.
Looking around, Haymar could see Evellyn obviously liked a minimalist life, for her cabin was sparsely furnished. The only elegant, feminine thing he could see was a hand-woven rug on the floor in front of the bed.
Evellyn brought two cups of coffee over to the table and sat down. After handing Haymar one, she sat back and settled her gaze on him. “I’m ready,” she said quietly.
And so Haymar told her; of the siege of the Black Fortress; of the taking of the wall; how Roy had shoved Haymar out of the way at the last minute, and taken the arrow meant for the other; And how they had buried him along with the other dead; of the armies triumphant return; and how Haymar had set out to seek Evellyn, and tell her of her brother’s passing.
When he had finished, Evellyn sat silently for a long time, staring down at her untouched cup. Finally she looked up, and her eyes found the other’s.
“I almost joined your army with him, and again almost did when he told me the army was marching to war.”
“But?” Haymar said, sensing there was more.
“But Roy wanted me to stay here, watching over our farms. At least, that’s what he said, but I know the real reason was he thought war was too dangerous for me. He was always too over-protective of me, I guess because our parents died when we were young, and he was left to care for me alone. Because of what I knew about his true reason for having me stay, we argued. I wanted to go with him to the Black Fortress. He wanted me to stay here. We parted ways without making up. Now he’s dead, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Roy’s death was not your fault.” Haymar said. “He made the choice to leap in front of me, and you being there wouldn’t have influenced his decision.” She looked at him, not quite believing it, but not willing to argue.
“Now,” Haymar began, “There was another reason I came here besides Roy, although it does have to do with him, somewhat. With your brother’s unfortunate passing, there is an open position in the army. As your brother saved my life, for which I would be in his debt were he still here, I thought it only fair to offer you, as his sister, the position, in payment of that debt. Will you accept?”
Evellyn was still for awhile, digesting this. She was being offered a place in Haymar’s army, of which she had long desired to be a part of. But the cost had been her brother’s life, and she would be taking his place. Do I really want that? Evellyn thought. Without Roy, I won’t know anyone. I’ll be alone. Then she looked over at Haymar, and amended her thought. I’ll know hardly anyone. But I’ll finally be able to fight, and travel. To make friends, to get to know people. And a chance to avenge Roy. It was this last that decided it.
Evellyn looked up and met the other’s questioning gaze.
“I’ll take it.”
——————————————————————————————————
Parts of this story might not make sense, because I have yet to finish my Assault on Maldrake's Fortress story, due to writer's block on it. To clear things up a bit; during the battle, after the Lenfel troops had gained the wall, Evellyn's brother Roy stepped in front of Haymar and took an arrow from an archer on the tower, thereby saving Haymar's life. Hopefully I'll get the full story done soon.
REFORD GARDENS | LES JARDINS DE METIS
Spectacular view associated with wind gusts.
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/
VERTICAL LINE GARDEN 2018
Julia Jamrozik, Coryn Kempster
Buffalo, United States.
Visit: www.ck-jj.com
From the plaque:
Drawing on the formal language of historical garden design, and the contemporary means of mass-produced safety and construction material, the project is a strong graphic intervention that aims to produce an abstract field.
Defining a geometric zone out of tightly spaced parallel lines of stretched commercial barrier tape , the installation introduces ordered man-made elements into the cultivated natural environment of the Reford Gardens. Through this juxtaposition, a dialogue between the two spheres is created based on the shared theme of protection and necessary safe-guarding while questioning the definition of what is truly natural.
As one approaches and then walks around and through the installation the changing viewpoint will allow the shifting of the tape lines in space and thus varied views of the overall composition. Further the movement of the lines with the changing of the climate, the wind and the sun will ensure a dynamic optical and auditory engagement for the audience. As visitors enter and inhabit the space by occupying the provided loungers, the fluctuating appearance of the installation is further enhanced.
In the 2015 version of the garden, we have decided to alter the colours of the field and provide and to provide canpy elements which will not only provide shade but also give a different experiential perspective of the banner tape.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Texte de la plaque:
S'appuyant sur le langage formel de la conception du jardin historique, sur des moyens modernes de sécutité et sur des matériaux de construction produits en massa, le projet se veut une intervention graphique cherchant à créer un champs abstrait.
Des lignes parallèles de rubans de sécurité étroitement espacés définissent une zone géométrique. Cette installation d’éléments ordonnés prend place dans un milieu d’aspect naturel. Par cette juxtaposition, un dialogue entre les deux se crée basé sur le thème commun de la protection et de la sauvegarde , tout en s’interrogeant sur la définition de ce qui est vraiment naturel.
En s’approchant, en marchant autour et au travers le jardin, le point de vue change, ce qui permet le déplacement des lignes dans l’espace pour offrir de nouvelles perspectives sur la composition globale. Outre le mouvement des lignes, les changements de climat, le vent et le soleil procurent aux visiteurs des expériences visuelles et auditives dynamiques. Lorsque les visiteurs entrent et habitent l’espace en s’assoyant sur les chaises, l’aspect fluctuant de l’installation est renforcé.
Dans la version 2015 du jardin, les couleurs des rubans sont différentes et trois canopées ont été ajoutés. Ce qui va non seulement fournir de l’ombre mais aussi offrir une perspective expérientielle différente sur les rubans de sécurité.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Visit : www.refordgardens.com
From Wikipedia:
Elsie Stephen Meighen - born January 22, 1872, Perth, Ontario - and Robert Wilson Reford - born in 1867, Montreal - got married on June 12, 1894.
Elsie Reford was a pioneer of Canadian horticulture, creating one of the largest private gardens in Canada on her estate, Estevan Lodge in eastern Québec. Located in Grand-Métis on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, her gardens have been open to the public since 1962 and operate under the name Les Jardins de Métis and Reford Gardens.
Born January 22, 1872 at Perth, Ontario, Elsie Reford was the eldest of three children born to Robert Meighen and Elsie Stephen. Coming from modest backgrounds themselves, Elsie’s parents ensured that their children received a good education. After being educated in Montreal, she was sent to finishing school in Dresden and Paris, returning to Montreal fluent in both German and French, and ready to take her place in society.
She married Robert Wilson Reford on June 12, 1894. She gave birth to two sons, Bruce in 1895 and Eric in 1900. Robert and Elsie Reford were, by many accounts, an ideal couple. In 1902, they built a house on Drummond Street in Montreal. They both loved the outdoors and they spend several weeks a year in a log cabin they built at Lac Caribou, south of Rimouski. In the autumn they hunted for caribou, deer, and ducks. They returned in winter to ski and snowshoe. Elsie Reford also liked to ride. She had learned as a girl and spent many hours riding on the slopes of Mount Royal. And of course, there was salmon-fishing – a sport at which she excelled.
In her day, she was known for her civic, social, and political activism. She was engaged in philanthropic activities, particularly for the Montreal Maternity Hospital and she was also the moving force behind the creation of the Women’s Canadian Club of Montreal, the first women club in Canada. She believed it important that the women become involved in debates over the great issues of the day, « something beyond the local gossip of the hour ». Her acquaintance with Lord Grey, the Governor-General of Canada from 1904 to 1911, led to her involvement in organizing, in 1908, Québec City’s tercentennial celebrations. The event was one of many to which she devoted herself in building bridges with French-Canadian community.
During the First World War, she joined her two sons in England and did volunteer work at the War Office, translating documents from German into English. After the war, she was active in the Victorian Order of Nurses, the Montreal Council of Social Agencies, and the National Association of Conservative Women.
In 1925 at the age of 53 years, Elsie Reford was operated for appendicitis and during her convalescence, her doctor counselled against fishing, fearing that she did not have the strength to return to the river.”Why not take up gardening?” he said, thinking this a more suitable pastime for a convalescent woman of a certain age. That is why she began laying out the gardens and supervising their construction. The gardens would take ten years to build, and would extend over more than twenty acres.
Elsie Reford had to overcome many difficulties in bringing her garden to life. First among them were the allergies that sometimes left her bedridden for days on end. The second obstacle was the property itself. Estevan was first and foremost a fishing lodge. The site was chosen because of its proximity to a salmon river and its dramatic views – not for the quality of the soil.
To counter-act nature’s deficiencies, she created soil for each of the plants she had selected, bringing peat and sand from nearby farms. This exchange was fortuitous to the local farmers, suffering through the Great Depression. Then, as now, the gardens provided much-needed work to an area with high unemployment. Elsie Reford’s genius as a gardener was born of the knowledge she developed of the needs of plants. Over the course of her long life, she became an expert plantsman. By the end of her life, Elsie Reford was able to counsel other gardeners, writing in the journals of the Royal Horticultural Society and the North American Lily Society. Elsie Reford was not a landscape architect and had no training of any kind as a garden designer. While she collected and appreciated art, she claimed no talents as an artist.
Elsie Stephen Reford died at her Drummond Street home on November 8, 1967 in her ninety-sixth year.
In 1995, the Reford Gardens ("Jardins de Métis") in Grand-Métis were designated a National Historic Site of Canada, as being an excellent Canadian example of the English-inspired garden.(Wikipedia)
Visit : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsie_Reford
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/english/
LES JARDINS DE MÉTIS
Créés par Elsie Reford de 1926 à 1958, ces jardins témoignent de façon remarquable de l’art paysager à l’anglaise. Disposés dans un cadre naturel, un ensemble de jardins exhibent fleurs vivaces, arbres et arbustes. Le jardin des pommetiers, les rocailles et l’Allée royale évoquent l’œuvre de cette dame passionnée d’horticulture. Agrémenté d’un ruisseau et de sentiers sinueux, ce site jouit d’un microclimat favorable à la croissance d’espèces uniques au Canada. Les pavots bleus et les lis, privilégiés par Mme Reford, y fleurissent toujours et contribuent , avec d’autres plantes exotiques et indigènes, à l’harmonie de ces lieux.
Created by Elsie Reford between 1926 and 1958, these gardens are an inspired example of the English art of the garden. Woven into a natural setting, a series of gardens display perennials, trees and shrubs. A crab-apple orchard, a rock garden, and the Long Walk are also the legacy of this dedicated horticulturist. A microclimate favours the growth of species found nowhere else in Canada, while the stream and winding paths add to the charm. Elsie Reford’s beloved blue poppies and lilies still bloom and contribute, with other exotic and indigenous plants, to the harmony of the site.
Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada
Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada.
Gouvernement du Canada – Government of Canada
© Copyright
This photo and all those in my Photostream are protected by copyright. No one may reproduce, copy, transmit or manipulate them without my written permission.
Hands down, the Question Mark is my favorite butterfly...that bold orange always takes my breath away! They remind me of a beautiful Autumn leaf landing in front of me...even in the heat of Summer!
I’m questioning myself a lot this whole year, about my life path, and what I want to do in life. I need changes. To start from scratch. To bring new colors into my life. Just like in my photo here.
Recently, I found that I like writing. I don’t know where that came from and how I didn’t notice that earlier. But there must be something I could do with that. I’m very inspired to learn about writing and how to express myself in a much more profound way than I am currently. Hope to have some progress soon.
Btw, this is probably the most colorful photo I’ve got this autumn. This autumn is different than in previous years.
A series about questioning existence and everything you know. All of the projected images are either original images or illustrations!
from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.
Albert Einstein
2966
REFORD GARDENS | LES JARDINS DE METIS
Spectacular view associated with wind gusts.
Visit : www.refordgardens.com
VERTICAL LINE GARDEN 2019
Julia Jamrozik, Coryn Kempster
Buffalo, United States.
Visit: www.ck-jj.com
From the plaque:
Drawing on the formal language of historical garden design, and the contemporary means of mass-produced safety and construction material, the project is a strong graphic intervention that aims to produce an abstract field.
Defining a geometric zone out of tightly spaced parallel lines of stretched commercial barrier tape , the installation introduces ordered man-made elements into the cultivated natural environment of the Reford Gardens. Through this juxtaposition, a dialogue between the two spheres is created based on the shared theme of protection and necessary safe-guarding while questioning the definition of what is truly natural.
As one approaches and then walks around and through the installation the changing viewpoint will allow the shifting of the tape lines in space and thus varied views of the overall composition. Further the movement of the lines with the changing of the climate, the wind and the sun will ensure a dynamic optical and auditory engagement for the audience. As visitors enter and inhabit the space by occupying the provided loungers, the fluctuating appearance of the installation is further enhanced.
In the 2015 version of the garden, we have decided to alter the colours of the field and provide and to provide canpy elements which will not only provide shade but also give a different experiential perspective of the banner tape.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Texte de la plaque:
S'appuyant sur le langage formel de la conception du jardin historique, sur des moyens modernes de sécutité et sur des matériaux de construction produits en massa, le projet se veut une intervention graphique cherchant à créer un champs abstrait.
Des lignes parallèles de rubans de sécurité étroitement espacés définissent une zone géométrique. Cette installation d’éléments ordonnés prend place dans un milieu d’aspect naturel. Par cette juxtaposition, un dialogue entre les deux se crée basé sur le thème commun de la protection et de la sauvegarde , tout en s’interrogeant sur la définition de ce qui est vraiment naturel.
En s’approchant, en marchant autour et au travers le jardin, le point de vue change, ce qui permet le déplacement des lignes dans l’espace pour offrir de nouvelles perspectives sur la composition globale. Outre le mouvement des lignes, les changements de climat, le vent et le soleil procurent aux visiteurs des expériences visuelles et auditives dynamiques. Lorsque les visiteurs entrent et habitent l’espace en s’assoyant sur les chaises, l’aspect fluctuant de l’installation est renforcé.
Dans la version 2015 du jardin, les couleurs des rubans sont différentes et trois canopées ont été ajoutés. Ce qui va non seulement fournir de l’ombre mais aussi offrir une perspective expérientielle différente sur les rubans de sécurité.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From Wikipedia:
Elsie Stephen Meighen - born January 22, 1872, Perth, Ontario - and Robert Wilson Reford - born in 1867, Montreal - got married on June 12, 1894.
Elsie Reford was a pioneer of Canadian horticulture, creating one of the largest private gardens in Canada on her estate, Estevan Lodge in eastern Québec. Located in Grand-Métis on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, her gardens have been open to the public since 1962 and operate under the name Les Jardins de Métis and Reford Gardens.
Born January 22, 1872 at Perth, Ontario, Elsie Reford was the eldest of three children born to Robert Meighen and Elsie Stephen. Coming from modest backgrounds themselves, Elsie’s parents ensured that their children received a good education. After being educated in Montreal, she was sent to finishing school in Dresden and Paris, returning to Montreal fluent in both German and French, and ready to take her place in society.
She married Robert Wilson Reford on June 12, 1894. She gave birth to two sons, Bruce in 1895 and Eric in 1900. Robert and Elsie Reford were, by many accounts, an ideal couple. In 1902, they built a house on Drummond Street in Montreal. They both loved the outdoors and they spend several weeks a year in a log cabin they built at Lac Caribou, south of Rimouski. In the autumn they hunted for caribou, deer, and ducks. They returned in winter to ski and snowshoe. Elsie Reford also liked to ride. She had learned as a girl and spent many hours riding on the slopes of Mount Royal. And of course, there was salmon-fishing – a sport at which she excelled.
In her day, she was known for her civic, social, and political activism. She was engaged in philanthropic activities, particularly for the Montreal Maternity Hospital and she was also the moving force behind the creation of the Women’s Canadian Club of Montreal, the first women club in Canada. She believed it important that the women become involved in debates over the great issues of the day, « something beyond the local gossip of the hour ». Her acquaintance with Lord Grey, the Governor-General of Canada from 1904 to 1911, led to her involvement in organizing, in 1908, Québec City’s tercentennial celebrations. The event was one of many to which she devoted herself in building bridges with French-Canadian community.
During the First World War, she joined her two sons in England and did volunteer work at the War Office, translating documents from German into English. After the war, she was active in the Victorian Order of Nurses, the Montreal Council of Social Agencies, and the National Association of Conservative Women.
In 1925 at the age of 53 years, Elsie Reford was operated for appendicitis and during her convalescence, her doctor counselled against fishing, fearing that she did not have the strength to return to the river.”Why not take up gardening?” he said, thinking this a more suitable pastime for a convalescent woman of a certain age. That is why she began laying out the gardens and supervising their construction. The gardens would take ten years to build, and would extend over more than twenty acres.
Elsie Reford had to overcome many difficulties in bringing her garden to life. First among them were the allergies that sometimes left her bedridden for days on end. The second obstacle was the property itself. Estevan was first and foremost a fishing lodge. The site was chosen because of its proximity to a salmon river and its dramatic views – not for the quality of the soil.
To counter-act nature’s deficiencies, she created soil for each of the plants she had selected, bringing peat and sand from nearby farms. This exchange was fortuitous to the local farmers, suffering through the Great Depression. Then, as now, the gardens provided much-needed work to an area with high unemployment. Elsie Reford’s genius as a gardener was born of the knowledge she developed of the needs of plants. Over the course of her long life, she became an expert plantsman. By the end of her life, Elsie Reford was able to counsel other gardeners, writing in the journals of the Royal Horticultural Society and the North American Lily Society. Elsie Reford was not a landscape architect and had no training of any kind as a garden designer. While she collected and appreciated art, she claimed no talents as an artist.
Elsie Stephen Reford died at her Drummond Street home on November 8, 1967 in her ninety-sixth year.
In 1995, the Reford Gardens ("Jardins de Métis") in Grand-Métis were designated a National Historic Site of Canada, as being an excellent Canadian example of the English-inspired garden.(Wikipedia)
Visit : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsie_Reford
LES JARDINS DE MÉTIS
Créés par Elsie Reford de 1926 à 1958, ces jardins témoignent de façon remarquable de l’art paysager à l’anglaise. Disposés dans un cadre naturel, un ensemble de jardins exhibent fleurs vivaces, arbres et arbustes. Le jardin des pommetiers, les rocailles et l’Allée royale évoquent l’œuvre de cette dame passionnée d’horticulture. Agrémenté d’un ruisseau et de sentiers sinueux, ce site jouit d’un microclimat favorable à la croissance d’espèces uniques au Canada. Les pavots bleus et les lis, privilégiés par Mme Reford, y fleurissent toujours et contribuent , avec d’autres plantes exotiques et indigènes, à l’harmonie de ces lieux.
Created by Elsie Reford between 1926 and 1958, these gardens are an inspired example of the English art of the garden. Woven into a natural setting, a series of gardens display perennials, trees and shrubs. A crab-apple orchard, a rock garden, and the Long Walk are also the legacy of this dedicated horticulturist. A microclimate favours the growth of species found nowhere else in Canada, while the stream and winding paths add to the charm. Elsie Reford’s beloved blue poppies and lilies still bloom and contribute, with other exotic and indigenous plants, to the harmony of the site.
Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada
Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada.
Gouvernement du Canada – Government of Canada
© Copyright
This photo and all those in my Photostream are protected by copyright. No one may reproduce, copy, transmit or manipulate them without my written permission.
museumPASSmusees 2021 - CENTRALE for contemporary art - Multipli.city
CENTRALE presents BXL UNIVERSEL II: multipli.city, a multidisciplinary forum-exhibition & events project in collaboration with 11 artists and 6 Brussels-based organisations.
With: Younes Baba-Ali, Vincen Beeckman, Aleksandra Chaushova, Effi & Amir, Hadassah Emmerich, Pelagie Gbaguidi, Stephan Goldrajch, Sabrina Montiel-Soto, Anna Raimondo, Lazara Rosell Albear, Oussama Tabti ; BNA-BBOT & Mia Melvaer, Culture & Democratie, Globe Aroma, Kunstenpunt, MOUSSEM & Barbara Prada, Zinneke.
In 2021, on the occasion of its 15th anniversary, CENTRALE celebrates its city, its artists and its inhabitants with the project BXL UNIVERSEL II : multipli.city.
More than an exhibition, this project is a forum-exhibition which takes the form of a patchwork of singularities and paths, through the proposals of artists who chose to live and work in Brussels- and the collaboration with not-for-profit organisations within the city. Questioning both the strata of cosmopolitan Brussels, and the co-inhabiting woven into it, the art centre extends to the public space and partner venues, opening its space to all for exchange and sharing around artistic and participative processes.
In 2016, CENTRALE presented BXL UNIVERSEL I, a subjective portrait on the occasion of its 10th anniversary. Whereas the first part of the exhibition started a few weeks after the terrorist attacks of March 2016, this second part of the trilogy will be marked by the pandemic, the lockdowns and the impact of the sanitary crisis on (cultural) life. These events both shed new light on our vision of the city and of the world.
( 200 musees
Des maintenant, vous pouvez visiter tous les musees participants pendant un an. Pas une fois, mais aussi souvent que vous le souhaitez !
297 expositions
Vous pouvez egalement visiter les expositions temporaires des musees participants gratuitement ou a un tarif fortement reduit.
1 pass musees
Tout ceci avec seulement 1 pass.
REFORD GARDENS | LES JARDINS DE METIS
Spectacular view associated with wind gusts.
Beautiful flowers at Reford Gardens.
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/
VERTICAL LINE GARDEN 2017
Julia Jamrozik, Coryn Kempster
Buffalo, United States.
Visit: www.ck-jj.com
From the plaque:
Drawing on the formal language of historical garden design, and the contemporary means of mass-produced safety and construction material, the project is a strong graphic intervention that aims to produce an abstract field.
Defining a geometric zone out of tightly spaced parallel lines of stretched commercial barrier tape , the installation introduces ordered man-made elements into the cultivated natural environment of the Reford Gardens. Through this juxtaposition, a dialogue between the two spheres is created based on the shared theme of protection and necessary safe-guarding while questioning the definition of what is truly natural.
As one approaches and then walks around and through the installation the changing viewpoint will allow the shifting of the tape lines in space and thus varied views of the overall composition. Further the movement of the lines with the changing of the climate, the wind and the sun will ensure a dynamic optical and auditory engagement for the audience. As visitors enter and inhabit the space by occupying the provided loungers, the fluctuating appearance of the installation is further enhanced.
In the 2015 version of the garden, we have decided to alter the colours of the field and provide and to provide canpy elements which will not only provide shade but also give a different experiential perspective of the banner tape.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Texte de la plaque:
S'appuyant sur le langage formel de la conception du jardin historique, sur des moyens modernes de sécutité et sur des matériaux de construction produits en massa, le projet se veut une intervention graphique cherchant à créer un champs abstrait.
Des lignes parallèles de rubans de sécurité étroitement espacés définissent une zone géométrique. Cette installation d’éléments ordonnés prend place dans un milieu d’aspect naturel. Par cette juxtaposition, un dialogue entre les deux se crée basé sur le thème commun de la protection et de la sauvegarde , tout en s’interrogeant sur la définition de ce qui est vraiment naturel.
En s’approchant, en marchant autour et au travers le jardin, le point de vue change, ce qui permet le déplacement des lignes dans l’espace pour offrir de nouvelles perspectives sur la composition globale. Outre le mouvement des lignes, les changements de climat, le vent et le soleil procurent aux visiteurs des expériences visuelles et auditives dynamiques. Lorsque les visiteurs entrent et habitent l’espace en s’assoyant sur les chaises, l’aspect fluctuant de l’installation est renforcé.
Dans la version 2015 du jardin, les couleurs des rubans sont différentes et trois canopées ont été ajoutés. Ce qui va non seulement fournir de l’ombre mais aussi offrir une perspective expérientielle différente sur les rubans de sécurité.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Visit : www.refordgardens.com
From Wikipedia:
Elsie Stephen Meighen - born January 22, 1872, Perth, Ontario - and Robert Wilson Reford - born in 1867, Montreal - got married on June 12, 1894.
Elsie Reford was a pioneer of Canadian horticulture, creating one of the largest private gardens in Canada on her estate, Estevan Lodge in eastern Québec. Located in Grand-Métis on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, her gardens have been open to the public since 1962 and operate under the name Les Jardins de Métis and Reford Gardens.
Born January 22, 1872 at Perth, Ontario, Elsie Reford was the eldest of three children born to Robert Meighen and Elsie Stephen. Coming from modest backgrounds themselves, Elsie’s parents ensured that their children received a good education. After being educated in Montreal, she was sent to finishing school in Dresden and Paris, returning to Montreal fluent in both German and French, and ready to take her place in society.
She married Robert Wilson Reford on June 12, 1894. She gave birth to two sons, Bruce in 1895 and Eric in 1900. Robert and Elsie Reford were, by many accounts, an ideal couple. In 1902, they built a house on Drummond Street in Montreal. They both loved the outdoors and they spend several weeks a year in a log cabin they built at Lac Caribou, south of Rimouski. In the autumn they hunted for caribou, deer, and ducks. They returned in winter to ski and snowshoe. Elsie Reford also liked to ride. She had learned as a girl and spent many hours riding on the slopes of Mount Royal. And of course, there was salmon-fishing – a sport at which she excelled.
In her day, she was known for her civic, social, and political activism. She was engaged in philanthropic activities, particularly for the Montreal Maternity Hospital and she was also the moving force behind the creation of the Women’s Canadian Club of Montreal, the first women club in Canada. She believed it important that the women become involved in debates over the great issues of the day, « something beyond the local gossip of the hour ». Her acquaintance with Lord Grey, the Governor-General of Canada from 1904 to 1911, led to her involvement in organizing, in 1908, Québec City’s tercentennial celebrations. The event was one of many to which she devoted herself in building bridges with French-Canadian community.
During the First World War, she joined her two sons in England and did volunteer work at the War Office, translating documents from German into English. After the war, she was active in the Victorian Order of Nurses, the Montreal Council of Social Agencies, and the National Association of Conservative Women.
In 1925 at the age of 53 years, Elsie Reford was operated for appendicitis and during her convalescence, her doctor counselled against fishing, fearing that she did not have the strength to return to the river.”Why not take up gardening?” he said, thinking this a more suitable pastime for a convalescent woman of a certain age. That is why she began laying out the gardens and supervising their construction. The gardens would take ten years to build, and would extend over more than twenty acres.
Elsie Reford had to overcome many difficulties in bringing her garden to life. First among them were the allergies that sometimes left her bedridden for days on end. The second obstacle was the property itself. Estevan was first and foremost a fishing lodge. The site was chosen because of its proximity to a salmon river and its dramatic views – not for the quality of the soil.
To counter-act nature’s deficiencies, she created soil for each of the plants she had selected, bringing peat and sand from nearby farms. This exchange was fortuitous to the local farmers, suffering through the Great Depression. Then, as now, the gardens provided much-needed work to an area with high unemployment. Elsie Reford’s genius as a gardener was born of the knowledge she developed of the needs of plants. Over the course of her long life, she became an expert plantsman. By the end of her life, Elsie Reford was able to counsel other gardeners, writing in the journals of the Royal Horticultural Society and the North American Lily Society. Elsie Reford was not a landscape architect and had no training of any kind as a garden designer. While she collected and appreciated art, she claimed no talents as an artist.
Elsie Stephen Reford died at her Drummond Street home on November 8, 1967 in her ninety-sixth year.
In 1995, the Reford Gardens ("Jardins de Métis") in Grand-Métis were designated a National Historic Site of Canada, as being an excellent Canadian example of the English-inspired garden.(Wikipedia)
Visit : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsie_Reford
Visit : www.refordgardens.com/english/
LES JARDINS DE MÉTIS
Créés par Elsie Reford de 1926 à 1958, ces jardins témoignent de façon remarquable de l’art paysager à l’anglaise. Disposés dans un cadre naturel, un ensemble de jardins exhibent fleurs vivaces, arbres et arbustes. Le jardin des pommetiers, les rocailles et l’Allée royale évoquent l’œuvre de cette dame passionnée d’horticulture. Agrémenté d’un ruisseau et de sentiers sinueux, ce site jouit d’un microclimat favorable à la croissance d’espèces uniques au Canada. Les pavots bleus et les lis, privilégiés par Mme Reford, y fleurissent toujours et contribuent , avec d’autres plantes exotiques et indigènes, à l’harmonie de ces lieux.
Created by Elsie Reford between 1926 and 1958, these gardens are an inspired example of the English art of the garden. Woven into a natural setting, a series of gardens display perennials, trees and shrubs. A crab-apple orchard, a rock garden, and the Long Walk are also the legacy of this dedicated horticulturist. A microclimate favours the growth of species found nowhere else in Canada, while the stream and winding paths add to the charm. Elsie Reford’s beloved blue poppies and lilies still bloom and contribute, with other exotic and indigenous plants, to the harmony of the site.
Commission des lieux et monuments historiques du Canada
Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada.
Gouvernement du Canada – Government of Canada
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Music for today : TWild tigers I have known by Emily Jane White
Finally, the lonely tiger is back!!
He got mind and behavior questionings to solve!!
So he take a lot of new shots to express and resolve his ill-being!!
have a nice week-end dear friends!!
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"The British Library, a colourful work, celebrating and questioning how immigration has contributed to the British culture that we live in today. Shelves of books covered in colourful wax fabric fill the Sunley Gallery, their spines bearing the names of immigrants who have enriched British society. From T.S. Eliot and Hans Holbein to Zaha Hadid, The British Library reminds us that the displacement of communities by global war has consequences that inform our lives and attitudes today."
A rare empty billboard on the M8 freeway.
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One of several projects, where as a harvester of images I stumble & lurch, part collector, part curator. Questioning time, presence, and possibility, amongst other ideas.
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Exhibition of questioning sculptures at La Maison Rouge, Paris-France. I forgot the name of the Italian artist, and I've been searching the web without success. If someone can help...
So what?
questioning.org/Mar2024/sowhat.html
When Hitler began the invasion of Poland and his march through Europe, there were many in the USA and Britain who asked, "So what? What does this have to do with me?"
Some of these same people ended up dying when German bombs fell upon London or when they joined the army to storm the beaches of Normandy a few years later. Much of the world came to understand the threat posed by Hitler, his allies and his manic drive to enlist, capture or subjugate all of his neighbors.
Sadly, it took the bombing of Pearl Harbor to convince some that what happened to Poland might happen to the USA.
The cost of appeasement was immense.
When some people say "So what?" it is more of a statement than a question, an act of defiance, of disregard. They are showing disinterest and rejecting any need to explore or understand.
Many years later we see history repeating itself, as many act as if the death of Alexei Navalny has little to do with them and ask "So what?" They watch Putin's cruel and criminal invasion of the Ukraine and shrug it off. "So what? What does this have to do with me?"
Continued at questioning.org/Mar2024/sowhat.html
.
Let me say, at the risk of seeming ridiculous, that the true revolutionary is
guided by great feelings of love.
~ Che Guevara
The most violent element in society is ignorance.
~ Emma Goldman
All wars are wars among thieves who are too cowardly to fight and who
therefore induce the young manhood of the whole world to do the fighting for them.
~ Emma Goldman
Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.
~ Leo Tolstoy
Be the change you wish to see in the world.
~ Ghandi
To overcome evil with good is good, to resist evil with evil is evil.
~ Mohammad
You must have the capacity to doubt, so that you will discover through that doubt what is truth, what is the essential and the lasting. But to doubt everything requires strength of intelligence, of thought, because from morning to night you have to be ceaselessly questioning, demanding, urging. What is life but a mere existence – earning money, gathering and rejecting experience, with all its sorrows – what is its value unless you live like a tremendous volcano that is a danger to everything?
~ Krishnamurti
And others of museums over here:
The eye like a strange balloon rising up
to infinity;
On the horizon, the angel of certitudes, and in the somber
sky, a questioning gaze;
Lady in despair;
The blood of Medusa;
The evil mothers;
I close the door on myself;
The kiss;
Another kiss;
Jealousy again;
and now the real Wuthering Heights,
followed by a curious sports race,
some pornography, and a godfather named
Cicero.
Dear friends, I have no idea where this is going.
I'm passing these postcards around
quickly. Notice these pockets attached with an
elastic band, oh I almost forgot to say
that you can and should turn them around
to check whether any words
are scribbled there, take this one for instance “When
might we have an esquisite time again?”,
exquisite with an s, or this one here, “Post 6,
where I spent my childhood and adolescence,
how has it changed!”, or this other one, listen,
“I'm still trying to send you a piece of where
I am but it's always missing.” And another with
tiny letters: “I've calmed down, I distracted
myself, I don't think as much, penso a te.” I think the end
is in Italian. Go on reading, go on, the most part
might be blank. Excuse me.
I have to go but I'll be right back.
I've got something in my eye, a little speck: when I return
I'll keep pulling out postcards from the bag, and who knows,
when the time comes, I might tell you the end
of that true story, but before I leave I should take off
my glove, leave it here on the back of the chair.
fragment 3 a.c.c.
Cuban Treefrog (Osteopilus septentrionalis) - My side garden, Space Coast, Florida
Did you notice the inverted question mark ( ¿ ) in its eye?
Well that's probably because these guys can climb right-side up or upside down, and it probably forgot how it was hangin'.
Or,
perhaps it has to do with how US/Cuban relations are upside-down these days.
Note: This is the first image in a series of images,
unfortynately, in order to see the other pics on the "new" improved Flickr, you'll have to scroll up the comment section to the top of the comment list, or click on the following link to
view the other image in this series
Today's story and sketch by me 1515, is About what's going on, with zombie Scarecrows popping up out of the ground this week, all over our Tropical Volcanic Planet we call Budahunga, there have been dozens of Scarecrows, that just pop up out of the ground, in a mysterious blue cloud. I have almost traced this series of events causing this mysterious phenomenon. So far everything points to a very devious witch in the area around Pasadena, and Burbank California. I believe it's caused by a witch, a real living nasty piece of work, well she really got nasty when she auditioned for a part as a witch. She was one of the actresses among 147 aspiring actresses, trying out for the part. Little did the director, the stage manager, camera crews, caterers, and 78 assorted staff, gaffer's, and, 31 pedestrian Lokie Loos, realize she was the only actual real living breathing, 245 year old witch, who decided she wanted to be an actress. When they called her name, Wanda would you please read the card with your movie voice, ( I'll Get Your Little Dog ), when she read it, the director became terrified, told the guy with the Hook to get her off the set. Which only started the series of events that until now, no one really knew, how the entire 46 acre movie lot was instantly turned into a dirty dusty empty field. People nearby swear they saw a witch ride away on a broom, screaming, I'll get your little dog. I believe it is Wanda who turned all of those movie people SAG, screen actors guild, union members, and all the other 38 unions represented that day who's members disappeared, was the direct consequence, of a bad decision, by the Director. I hope to have more details, after questioning a few of the victims. Until next time Tata the Rod Blog.
The Sacredness of Questioning Everything:
Questioning God, religion, offhandedness, passions, media, language, interpretations, history, governments, bureaucracy, future
a book by David Dark
dont questioning me about statues... love them all!
if you are a statue... you can topless... but if you are not... i hope you dont do it :P
"theres a reason i said i woudl be happy alone. it wasnt cause i thought I would be happy alone. it was because if I thought i loved someone and then it fell apart i might not make it isnt easy to be alone because what if you learn that you need love and then dont have it . what if you like it and lean on it. what if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart. can you even survive that kind of pain, losing love is like organ damage. its like dying only differene is death ends, this coudl go on forever.
i didnt write this but it fit so much . its from the show grays anatomy. if you havent watched if you showed. i noramlly dont like sappy shows but i like this includes medical stuff.
I think she's questioning how I dare put her in another Barbie outfit, but for a quick Sunday change, that was her only choice. :)
Doll: Feminine Perspective Agnes
Dress: Barbie/Mattel
"Questioning"
Le Parc de la Victoire a été inauguré en 1975 pour commémorer le 30ème anniversaire de la Victoire de la Grande Guerre Patriotique. Douchanbé (Asie Centrale - Tadjikistan)
Website : www.fluidr.com/photos/pat21
www.flickriver.com/photos/pat21/sets/
"Copyright © – Patrick Bouchenard
The reproduction, publication, modification, transmission or exploitation of any work contained here in for any use, personal or commercial, without my prior written permission is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved."
In this month's article available at questioning.org/Jan2023/happy.html I explore the meaning of happiness, euphoria and contentment along with depression and despair. The theme was inspired by Sheryl Crow's song — If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?"