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"It seems that fears are all based on these things: illusion and future thinking, with a side order of 'What if.' 'What if that truck turns suddenly into our lane' 'What if I'm all alone at age 80?' What if? What if? What if? Yes, fears must be respected and learned about, but they must not paralyze us, or lure us into a half-life of being afraid all the time. I liked to think of my fears being driven away in a Rolls Royce (for it is true that once you face a fear, it loses all of its stuffing, and will sit quietly in the back seat and do as it's told.) I feel that fears drive us away from our true selves--innocent beings. I used to live in denial of my fears, and try to cover them up with a 'happy face.' I now see that my greatest growth is happening with an acceptance of my fears, of giving them voices and learning new ways to deal with them." - Anonymous
Images that tell a story -
She had seen the missing person posters around the streets last week.
Everyone has feelings of anxiety at some point in their life.
One of my favourite birds. They are very fast and agile picking of little mud crabs in mid-flight. Just amazing.
If you're one of those people who finds my stream self-indulgent, please stop reading now. Because I'm all revved up for a self-indulgent tangent.
See... I had a lot of prickly, uncomfortable energy yesterday. As I often do. A burr under my saddle. A bee in my bonnet. A fucking thorn in my brain is what it felt like. And like some poor animal afflicted by some irritation it just can't get to... I spent some time kind of running around, kicking up my hooves, lashing my tail, and basically trying to dislodge the metaphorical blood-sucking insect from the back of my neck.
I don't know why, but photography seems to be therapeutic in these situations. If I can create an image that captures how I feel... I dunno. It's weird. It's like... by doing that, I can sort of lasso and tame the feeling itself. And put it under glass and inspect it and dissect it and then just basically shrug and move on.
I think maybe the therapeutic part is in the trying and failing. Lately, every time I get that jittery feeling in my brain, I go outside and try to get these windows to reflect something interesting. I have a really terrible sense of space and direction. So any time I work with mirrors or reflections in general I get all confused (which is why I'm a terrible parker - I can't navigate using mirrors, especially in reverse).
Um... yeah. So... anyway. (These being, of course, two phrases I use when I don't know WTF I want to say.) So... anyway. For some reason, this pic turned out to be the most therapeutic one I managed yesterday. I think it's about fear, and the fear of facing up to things, and the overwhelming desire I sometimes feel to disappear... combined with the fact that I am, always, the curious observer.
The last cinematic shot from my recent build for the Muunilinst collab. I have some more builds ready, but it might still take me a while to take proper photos of them.
Original photograph (not by me ) was exhibited in BIF-IV.....my snap is the reflection on it .....i blv ..the main picture (framed)
is much more wonderful
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Explore - February 27, 2009 - #20
More from Gatorland - sorry ....
Perhaps it is my scientific background, but, to me, one of the biggest joys of photography is learning about my subjects, particularly the wonders of nature. I really knew zip about birds until relocating here to Central Florida, and have discovered it is a fascinating subject. Until this trip to Gatorland, I was clueless about their mating rituals and find these feather displays a marvel. But what really intrigues me is the way the color changes around the bird's eyes at this time. The great whites have a stunningly greenish color and these snowy egrets have the red you see here. Recognizing this just leads to more questions, such as how keen is their eyesight and are they ever color blind - just kidding!! A Feathery Friday bit of humor :-)
Happy Friday y'all and have a super-superb week-end!!
one afternoon in our holidays.... massive clouds are building up, sun darkens.... 10min after I took this shot, all hell broke loose. heavy rain and thunderstorm. After one hour sky was clear again....
A chunk of petrified wood from the Petrified Forrest in Arizona. In the background an approaching storm is ready to calm to dust for a while.
Pvt. Patterson
Date: June 8, 1944
Location: 10 miles into France
Time: 1500 hours
Zing* zing* zing*. Thump*
"Move! Move! Get your lazy asses outta here!"
I followed behind my fellow soldiers, as they pushed forward to the edge of the German-held town.
Pa pa pa pa pa pa*
MG fired cracked the air, a soldier up ahead was riddled with bullets. As the rest of us ran past, I looked at the fallen soldier. He was young, maybe 19, with black hair and empty brown eyes. I felt a shiver down my spine, like death had touched my neck. Sargent Adams was up front, he turned and yelled :
"B platoon to the left, C platoon to the ri-".
Boom*
The krauts through a potato masher and it hit the ground to the right of his feet.... and exploded. His limp body flying upward was the most ghoulish image ive ever seen. Everyone scrambled for cover. He hit the ground with a thud. The medic got to him within a second. He yelled for someone to help. My mind was fuzzy, I didn't know what I was doing, so I said: "I'm coming!" I ran up and knelt down beside the two, the medic told me to lay on his chest, between his legs and his head. I was also told to come him down, even though he was slipping in and out of conciousness. The medic began his craft, I turned my head to look and I see it. Sarg's right foot was missing, both legs severely wounded, and a slimy worm looking thing coming out of his lower stomach area. It was his large intestine. The medic grabbed it and began to twist it and try to fix the situation. I didn't think he could do much, he was torn open. But I gagged, I almost threw up. The scene was gruesome, but the medic kept his composure. I just laid there staring, and praying for Sarg. Hoping he would make it.
He didn't.....