View allAll Photos Tagged rudyardkipling

On the road to Mandalay

Where the flyin' fishes play

And the dawn comes up like thunder out of China 'crost the bay

 

Song by Oley Speaks from Rudyard Kipling's words in his poem Mandalay.

 

Thank you for taking the time to visit, comment, fave or invite. I really appreciate them all.

 

All photos used are my own.

 

All rights reserved. This photo is not authorized for use on your blogs, pin boards, websites or use in any other way. You may NOT download this image without written permission from lemon~art.

 

Roses red and roses white

Plucked I for my love's delight.

She would none of all my posies--

Bade me gather her blue roses.

 

-Rudyard Kipling

Mood ♪♫ John Mayer - Waiting On the World to Change

 

‘If’

by Rudyard Kipling

 

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise

 

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

_______

AI generated image - Midjourney & Photoshop & ON1 Effects

 

Kipling's famous poem, Gunga Din, inspired the title

lyrics of the Noel Coward song www.esl-lounge.com/songs/songmaddogs.php

The title is taken from Rudyard Kipling's story about the adventure of an Indian Gray Mongoose. This one took a glance at me and went about its adventure whatever that was. Seeing it I felt safe walking in the forest; I was sure all snakes went into hiding that morning. Chintamani Kar Bird Sanctuary, Kolkata, India.

The former home of Rudyard Kipling in East Sussex, UK. Now run by The National Trust and open to the public.

Today is the 11th day of Valentine's month of February, and I wanted to share my love of curiosity, travel, and research. Of course, picking up the camera has enhanced my curiosity and made me even more aware of my surroundings. Art, too, has enabled me to share my feelings more deeply than by word, which is not one of my strengths

 

THE JOURNEY | LEA SALONGA | LYRIC VIDEO

Lorna Yumul Santos

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNjJlevOWG8

 

If by Rudyard Kipling

 

To learn while still a child

What this life is meant to be.

To know it goes beyond myself,

It’s so much more than me.

To overcome the tragedies,

To survive the hardest times.

To face those moments filled with pain,

And still, manage to be kind.

To fight for those who can’t themselves,

To always share my light.

With those who wander in the dark,

To love with all my might.

To still stand up with courage,

Though standing on my own.

To still get up and face each day,

Even when I feel alone.

To try to understand the ones

That no one cares to know.

And make them feel some value.

When the world has let them go.

To be an anchor, strong and true,

That person loyal to the end.

To be a constant source of hope

To my family and my friends.

To live a life of decency,

To share my heart and soul.

To always say I’m sorry

When I’ve harmed both friend and foe.

To be proud of whom I’ve tried to be,

And this life I chose to live.

To make the most of every day

By giving all I have to give.

To me, that’s what this life should be,

To me, that’s what it’s for.

To take what God has given me

And make it so much more

To live a life that matters,

To be someone of great worth.

To love and be loved in return

And make my mark on Earth..

 

Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose.

Zora Neale Hurston

 

Research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing.

Wernher von Braun

 

Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out.

Charles F. Kettering

 

Research is something that everyone can do, and everyone ought to do. It is simply collecting information and thinking systematically about it.

Raewyn Connell

 

Bad news sells papers. It also sells market research.

Byron Sharp

 

A person susceptible to ‘wanderlust’ is not so much addicted to movement as committed to transformation.

Pico Iyer

 

The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.

Sainte Augustine

 

The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he comes to see.”

Gilbert K Chesterton

 

Traveling solo does not always mean you’re alone. Most often, you meet marvelous people along the way and make connections that last a lifetime.

Jacqueline Boone

 

An understanding of the natural world and what’s in it is a source of not only a great curiosity but great fulfilment.

Sir David Attenborough

 

Oh, the places you will go.

Dr. Seuss

 

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Louis Armstrong

 

With heartfelt and genuine thanks for your kind visit. Have a beautiful day, be well, keep your eyes open, appreciate the beauty surrounding you, enjoy creating, stay safe, and laugh often! ❤️❤️❤️

The pear arch at Batemans

Bateman's is a 17th-century house located in Burwash, East Sussex, England and was the home of Rudyard Kipling from 1902 to his death in 1936.

Door knob from the early 20th century Pither stove in the dining room at Bateman's - the home of author Rudyard Kipling in Burwash, Sussex

he house was built in 1634. Kipling's widow Caroline bequeathed the house to the National Trust on her death in 1939. The house is a Grade I listed building. As you get out of your car, it’s instantly easy to see why Kipling fell in love with Bateman’s. This is a quietly stunning corner of Sussex. The surrounding silence and undulating views are reminiscent of sleepy days gone by and the house and its grounds have an air of melancholy..

This is the alfresco eating area of Bateman's, a National Trust property and the former home of Rudyard Kipling.

 

Although we were confined to the café indoors, we nonetheless enjoyed a great vegetarian lunch of home-made hazelnut quiche with all the trimmings.

 

There were bright pink roses in bloom in the grounds adjacent to a small lake and hens clustered round the door to the mill.

 

And on the way out, we stopped the car to take photos of a cluster of fly agaric growing in the damp grass around the trees near the exit.

The tea gardens at Batemans, Rudyard Kiplings home in Burwash, East Sussex

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son.

 

"If—" Rudyard Kipling

  

The home of Rudyard Kipling and now a National Trust property in Burwash, Sussex.

My sister and brother-in-law's cat, Sir Winston Tuxedo, "whiskering" my camera bag.

 

See also: IMG_9689 Sir Winston Tuxedo: 17 Months Later and IMG_9693 I Am Sir Winston Tuxedo If You Please (meow)

 

Canby, Oregon

If we could know wisdom, from folly, would our choices change what happens next?

Built in 1634, Rudyard Kipling bought the house in 1902 at the age of 36 and lived here for more than 30 years. When his widow died, she donated the property to the National Trust who have opened it to the public. The house contains many of the original furnishings and lots of mementos of Kipling and family.

View down the garden. Bateman's (Rudyard Kipling's house), Burwash, East Sussex.

114/365 (3,432)

 

Today we had lunch and a wander around the house and gardens at Bateman's.

 

Stanley Baldwin and Rudyard Kipling were cousins. Baldwin had been staying with the Kiplings at Bateman's, and after he came back from a long walk, he was left this notice :)

Bateman's is a 17th-century house located in Burwash, East Sussex, England. It was the home of Rudyard Kipling from 1902 until his death in 1936. The house was built in 1634. Kipling's widow Caroline bequeathed the house to the National Trust on her death in 1939. The house is a Grade I listed building.

Bateman's home of Rudyard Kipling Burwash East Sussex England UK

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack. ~Kipling

Home of Rudyard Kipling. Bateman's, Burwash, East Sussex. UK

This Jacobean House stands in the rural countryside of the Weald of Sussex. Beautiful gardens and fascinating history of house and owner.

National Trust

Rudyard Kipling lived here from 1902 until he died in 1936.

The Salish Sea ..Vancouver Island ... looking to the Usa from canada..

 

Who hath desired the Sea? Her menaces swift as her mercies?

The in-rolling walls of the fog and the silver-winged breeze that disperses?

The unstable mined berg going South and the calvings and groans that declare it --

White water half-guessed overside and the moon breaking timely to bare it --

His Sea as his fathers have dared -- his Sea as his children shall dare it:

His Sea as she serves him or kills?

So and no otherwise -- so and no otherwise -- hillmen desire their Hills.

 

Rudyard Kipling

The garden at Bateman's, Rudyard Kipling's home in East Sussex HBM!

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy 'ow's yer soul?"

But it's "Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy 'ow's yer soul?"

 

But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll-

 

The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,

 

O it's " Thin red line of 'eroes," when the drums begin to roll.

" when the drums begin to roll-

The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,

O it's " Thin red line of 'eroes," when the drums begin to roll.

 

Tommy (Atkins) - Rudyard Kipling

The gardens at Bateman's, Rudyard Kipling's home in East Sussex.

With apologies to Rudyard Kipling, a crown for every day for the man who would be king. For the the Sliders Sunday Group. Base image created using a Canon PowerShot camera and processed using Photoshop, Quad Pencil and Fractalius.

 

Happy Sliders Sunday!

Or: Mowgli's little revenge

 

Macro Monday: #LowKey

 

Size of the frame: 2,7 x 2,7 cm / 1,1 x 1,1 inches

 

Do you remember Mowgli from The Jungle Book? And how he was kidnapped by King Louie, king of the monkeys, because he thought that Mowgli could show him "how to make fire like the humans?" But Mowgli couldn't, because he wasn't raised by humans? Which enraged King Louie. Back then Mowgli could escape with the help of Bagheera and Baloo. Many years later, grown up by now, Mowgli returned to the jungle. Again he met King Louie, who still wanted to know how to make fire. Mowgli showed him his camera instead, and promised to take his photo and publish it in the National Geographic, which pleased Louie, who had always been a little vain. Louie, however, who wasn't aware that Mowgli would use the flash (because of the bad light conditions there, of course), held up his hands to protect his eyes. Flash, fired! Compulsory mode. And so it happened that the only photo ever taken of King Louie shows him smiling, but with closed eyes.

 

A Happy Macro Monday, Everyone!

 

Tusk-shaped pendant (plastic, of course, no ivory!) with monkey "carving", a present from my Dad when I was 12.

 

Moglis kleine Rache

 

Erinnert Ihr Euch an die Geschichte vom Affenkönig, der Mogli entführte, weil er dachte, dass Mogli ihm zeigen könnte, wie man Feuer macht - so wie die Menschen? Und Mogli, der ja nicht von Menschen aufgezogen wurde, das gar nicht konnte? Was den Affenkönnig fürchterlich erzürnte. Damals konnte Mogli mithilfe von Baghira und Balou fliehen. Jetzt, längst erwachsen, ist Mogli in den Dschungel zurückgekehrt, um den Affenkönig noch einmal zu treffen. Dieses Mal will er ihm zeigen, wie man Feuer macht. Aber nicht mit Streichhölzern. Mogli hat seine Kamera mitgebracht, um den eitlen Affenkönig für's Geo-Magazin abzulichten. Was der Affenkönig nicht wusste, ist, dass Mogli den Blitz einsetzen würde (wegen der schlechten Lichtverhältnisse natürlich). Erschrocken vom Blitzlicht hielt sich der Affenkönig die Hände vor die Augen. So kam es, dass das einzige Foto, das es vom Affenkönig gibt, ihn zwar lächelnd, aber mit verdeckten Augen zeigt.

 

Anhänger in Form eines Stoßzahns (aus Plastik, nicht Elfenbein!), mit einem "eingeschnitzten" Affen, ein Geschenk von meinem Vater, als ich 12 war.

 

Ich wünsche Euch eine schöne Woche, Ihr Lieben!

  

Two shots taken closely together. First was the ICM image, then a few frames on I got the street candid shot. This made it easier to composite the guy into the ICM background shot, trying to give a concept of calm / chaos (or maybe the other way around...).

A scene from David Haig's My Boy Jack at the Altrincham Garrick. The play tells the story of Rudyard Kipling sending his only son Jack to the first world war, and his subsequent grief, guilt and denial after Jack is killed.

For a moment I found myself far away, in India, in a glade in the Shoolpaneshwar wildlife sanctuary. Shaded from the heat. A young woman sat a short distance from me, atop a great boulder, awaiting her Bagheera and man-baby to come out of the jungle. As I watched, it was quite a beautiful scene, like out of a movie.

 

I've seen the films of the Jungle book and Kim, but that has previously been the limit of my knowledge of the great writer who created these stories. Yes I've had Mr Kipling's cakes too and I am aware of some connection through nearby Rudyard Lake, but it was only this picture that made me pause and think and decide to look into the history of the man. Rudyard Kipling.

 

George Orwell wrote a long consideration of Kipling's work for Horizon in 1942, noting that although as a "jingo imperialist" Kipling was "morally insensitive and aesthetically disgusting," his work had many qualities which ensured that while "every enlightened person has despised him... nine-tenths of those enlightened persons are forgotten and Kipling is in some sense still there.":

 

One reason for Kipling's power was his sense of responsibility, which made it possible for him to have a world-view, even though it happened to be a false one. Although he had no direct connexion with any political party, Kipling was a Conservative, a thing that does not exist nowadays. Those who now call themselves Conservatives are either Liberals, Fascists or the accomplices of Fascists. He identified himself with the ruling power and not with the opposition. In a gifted writer this seems to us strange and even disgusting, but it did have the advantage of giving Kipling a certain grip on reality. The ruling power is always faced with the question, 'In such and such circumstances, what would you do?', whereas the opposition is not obliged to take responsibility or make any real decisions. Where it is a permanent and pensioned opposition, as in England, the quality of its thought deteriorates accordingly. Moreover, anyone who starts out with a pessimistic, reactionary view of life tends to be justified by events, for Utopia never arrives and 'the gods of the copybook headings', as Kipling himself put it, always return. Kipling sold out to the British governing class, not financially but emotionally. This warped his political judgement, for the British ruling class were not what he imagined, and it led him into abysses of folly and snobbery, but he gained a corresponding advantage from having at least tried to imagine what action and responsibility are like. It is a great thing in his favour that he is not witty, not 'daring', has no wish to épater les bourgeois. He dealt largely in platitudes, and since we live in a world of platitudes, much of what he said sticks. Even his worst follies seem less shallow and less irritating than the 'enlightened' utterances of the same period, such as Wilde's epigrams or the collection of cracker-mottoes at the end of Man and Superman.

— George Orwell

 

Rudyard Kipling: a very interesting history en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudyard_Kipling

Looking back towards Batemans as Phoebe, Max and I decided to take the walk around the estate to Burwash Weald and back....

Wimpole Hall is a country house located within the Parish of Wimpole, Cambridgeshire, England, about 8 1⁄2 miles) southwest of Cambridge. The house,dates back to 1640.The house and estate had several owners and in 1938, Capt. George Bambridge and his wife Elsie, daughter of Rudyard Kipling, purchased it, after having been tenants since 1932. They used the inheritance left to them by her father for the long needed refurbishment of the house and grounds. The final chapter of Wimpole as an owner-occupied residence was closed in 1976 when Elsie died, leaving the property to the National Trust.

Rudyard Kiplings home

A view over the lily pond at Bateman's, East Sussex, home of Rudyard Kipling from 1902 until 1936

Last weekend at the Toronto Metro Zoo, I made a beeline to the Orangutan exhibit. With the upcoming "Jungle Book" movie coming soon, this is an ode to that irascible simian, Cousin Louie :)

The NT docent was kind enough to open the window shade on the right for about 30 sec to shed more light into the room.

 

The full wastebasket is a bit misleading because the Kiplings were very careful about plagiarism and theft of his work for sale. At the end of each day, every piece of paper that was discarded would be burned under the supervision of Rudyard's wife.

 

Because Rudyard and his wife were short, he had blocks added to the chairs they normally sat in.

The village pond and a house once lived in by Rudyard Kipling.

Bateman's, near the village of Burwash in Sussex, was built by a Wealden ironmaster in local sandstone, at a time when the Sussex Weald, with its forests for charcoal, was a flourishing centre of the ancient English iron industry. The date over the porch is 1634.

 

Rudyard Kipling settled in the house in 1902, and lived there for over thirty years, until his death, rejoicing in its seclusion under the Sussex downs, and in the evidence all around of thousands of years of English history.

1 3 4 5 6 7 ••• 73 74