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Seemingly circa 1890 glass negative view of Foggy Bottom in the vicinity of the large Washington Gas Light complex there, but I can't get everything to line up - advice / input is welcome!
Interesting view of the Georgetown waterfront on zoom in.
Seemingly spontaneous aerobics astounded lunch-goers across the state today when flash mobs broke out at 12:10 p.m. on the streets of Denver, Greeley and Grand Junction. More than 100 flash mobbers exercised their enthusiasm for healthy eating and active living in each city when they suddenly disrobed to display retro, 1980’s-inspired workout gear and performed a coordinated aerobics routine.
LiveWell Colorado (http://www.livewellcolorado.org), a non-profit organization committed to reducing obesity by inspiring healthy eating and active living, coordinated the flash mobs to ignite enthusiasm for the launch of its statewide “Challenge,” campaign which encourages Coloradoans to challenge each other and their communities to live well.
Picture Credit: Erik Keith Photography
Seemingly a recent arrival at Griersons but evidently not in use is double-deck Volvo coach LIB601, new in 1989.
Seemingly dwarfed by its tender, Collett 2251 heads out of Temple Meads towards Barrow Road Shed. At the time, 1963, the shed had an allocation of four of the class.
Now seemingly a rarity, but earlier in 2017 route 52 was 99.99% B7TL/ALX400, but with emissions restrictions coming into play, Omnilinks have moved into Perry Barr garage (the garage which operates this route) and many of the Volvo's have moved out, 4289 BU51RXS is one of those remainers, although fitted with AdBlue tech to allow them to continue service into Brum.
With seemingly plenty of wear left in them, it poses the question: Why? Just because one boot lace has worn out? Maybe they do not fit any more? Cause blisters? Or maybe the owner just gave up on them. I guess I will never know. In the meantime, they await a new owner to come along and claim them.
Seemingly banished from town work Ipswich buses MCV Evolution 156 is seen heating to Colchester on the 93
This seemingly ordinary looking entrance to the Gdansk shipyards is where Lech Walesa announced to the waiting crowds in 1980 that a deal had been struck with the ruling communist government. The gate has since been listed as a historical monument.
Of seemingly weird trinkets from my youth, I also have this tiny blue cow eraser that I got in the 3rd grade when the dairy association came to our school to promote how healthy milk was.
Benjamin Jonson (c. 11 June 1572 – 6 August 1637) was an English Renaissance dramatist, poet and actor. A contemporary of William Shakespeare, he is best known for his satirical plays, particularly Volpone, The Alchemist, and Bartholomew Fair, which are considered his best, and his lyric poems. A man of vast reading and a seemingly insatiable appetite for controversy, Jonson had an unparalleled breadth of influence on Jacobean and Caroline playwrights and poets.
Although he was born in Westminster, London, Jonson claimed his family was of Scottish Border country descent, and this claim may have been supported by the fact that his coat of arms bears three spindles or rhombi, a device shared by a Borders family, the Johnstones of Annandale. His father died a month before Ben's birth, and his mother remarried two years later, to a master bricklayer. Jonson attended school in St. Martin's Lane, and was later sent to Westminster School, where one of his teachers was William Camden. Jonson remained friendly with Camden, whose broad scholarship evidently influenced his own style, until the latter's death in 1623. On leaving, Jonson was once thought to have gone on to the University of Cambridge; Jonson himself said that he did not go to university, but was put to a trade immediately: a legend recorded by Fuller indicates that he worked on a garden wall in Lincoln's Inn. He soon had enough of the trade, probably bricklaying, and spent some time in the Low Countries as a volunteer with the regiments of Francis Vere. In conversations with the poet William Drummond, subsequently published as the Hawthornden Manuscripts, Jonson reports that while in the Netherlands he killed an opponent in single combat and stripped him of his weapons.[1]
Ben Jonson married, some time before 1594, a woman he described to Drummond as "a shrew, yet honest." His wife has not been definitively identified, but she is sometimes identified as the Ann Lewis who married a Benjamin Jonson at St Magnus-the-Martyr, near London Bridge. The registers of St. Martin's Church state that his eldest daughter Mary died in November, 1593, when she was only six months old. His eldest son Benjamin died of the plague ten years later (Jonson's epitaph to him On My First Sonne was written shortly after), and a second Benjamin died in 1635. For five years somewhere in this period, Jonson lived separately from his wife, enjoying instead the hospitality of Lord Aubigny.
By the summer of 1597, Jonson had a fixed engagement in the Admiral's Men, then performing under Philip Henslowe's management at The Rose. John Aubrey reports, on uncertain authority, that Jonson was not successful as an actor; whatever his skills as an actor, he was evidently more valuable to the company as a writer.
By this time, Jonson had begun to write original plays for the Lord Admiral's Men; in 1598, he was mentioned by Francis Meres in his Palladis Tamia as one of "the best for tragedy." None of his early tragedies survive, however. An undated comedy, The Case is Altered, may be his earliest surviving play.
In 1597, a play co-written with Thomas Nashe entitled The Isle of Dogs was suppressed after causing great offence. Arrest warrants for Jonson and Nashe were subsequently issued by Elizabeth's so-called interrogator, Richard Topcliffe. Jonson was jailed in Marshalsea Prison and famously charged with "Leude and mutynous behavior", while Nashe managed to escape to Great Yarmouth. A year later, Jonson was again briefly imprisoned, this time in Newgate Prison, for killing another man, an actor Gabriel Spenser, in a duel on 22 September 1598 in Hogsden Fields,[1] (today part of Hoxton). Tried on a charge of manslaughter, Jonson pleaded guilty but was subsequently released by benefit of clergy, a legal ploy through which he gained leniency by reciting a brief bible verse in Latin, forfeiting his 'goods and chattels' and being branded on his left thumb.[2]
In 1598, Jonson produced his first great success, Every Man in his Humour, capitalising on the vogue for humour plays that had been begun by George Chapman with An Humorous Day's Mirth. William Shakespeare was among the first cast. This play was followed the next year by Every Man Out of His Humour, a pedantic attempt to imitate Aristophanes. It is not known whether this was a success on stage, but when published, it proved popular and went through several editions.
Jonson's other work for the theater in the last years of Elizabeth I's reign was unsurprisingly marked by fighting and controversy. Cynthia's Revels was produced by the Children of the Chapel Royal at Blackfriars Theatre in 1600. It satirized both John Marston, who Jonson believed had accused him of lustfulness, probably in Histrio-Mastix, and Thomas Dekker, against whom Jonson's animus is not known. Jonson attacked the same two poets again in 1601's Poetaster. Dekker responded with Satiromastix, subtitled "the untrussing of the humorous poet". The final scene of this play, whilst certainly not to be taken at face value as a portrait of Jonson, offers a caricature that is recognisable from Drummond's report - boasting about himself and condemning other poets, criticising performances of his plays, and calling attention to himself in any available way.
This "War of the Theatres" appears to have been concluded with reconciliation on all sides. Jonson collaborated with Dekker on a pageant welcoming James I to England in 1603 although Drummond reports that Jonson called Dekker a rogue. Marston dedicated The Malcontent to Jonson and the two collaborated with Chapman on Eastward Ho, a 1605 play whose anti-Scottish sentiment landed both authors in jail for a brief time.
At the beginning of the reign of James I of England in 1603 Jonson joined other poets and playwrights in welcoming the reign of the new king. Jonson quickly adapted himself to the additional demand for masques and entertainments introduced with the new reign and fostered by both the king and his consort Anne of Denmark.
Jonson flourished as a dramatist during the first decade or so of James's reign; by 1616, he had produced all the plays on which his reputation as a dramatist depends. These include the tragedy of Catiline (acted and printed 1611), which achieved only limited success, and the comedies Volpone, (acted 1605 and printed in 1607), Epicoene, or the Silent Woman (1609), The Alchemist (1610), Bartholomew Fair (1614) and The Devil is an Ass (1616). The Alchemist and Volpone appear to have been successful at once. Of Epicoene, Jonson told Drummond of a satirical verse which reported that the play's subtitle was appropriate, since its audience had refused to applaud the play (i.e., remained silent). Yet Epicoene, along with Bartholomew Fair and (to a lesser extent) The Devil is an Ass have in modern times achieved a certain degree of recognition. While his life during this period was apparently more settled than it had been in the 1590s, his financial security was still not assured. In 1603, Overbury reported that Jonson was living on Aurelian Townsend and "scorning the world."
His trouble with English authorities continued. In 1603, he was questioned by the Privy Council about Sejanus, a politically-themed play about corruption in the Roman Empire. He was again in trouble for topical allusions in a play, now lost, in which he took part. After the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, he appears to have been asked by the Privy Council to attempt to prevail on a certain priest to cooperate with the government; the priest he found was Father Thomas Wright, who heard Fawkes's confession(Teague, 249).
At the same time, Jonson pursued a more prestigious career as a writer of masques for James' court. The Satyr (1603) and The Masque of Blackness (1605) are but two of the some two dozen masques Jonson wrote for James or for Queen Anne; the latter was praised by Swinburne as the consummate example of this now-extinct genre, which mingled speech, dancing, and spectacle. On many of these projects he collaborated, not always peacefully, with designer Inigo Jones. Perhaps partly as a result of this new career, Jonson gave up writing plays for the public theaters for a decade. Jonson later told Drummond that he had made less than two hundred pounds on all his plays together.
1616 saw a pension of 100 marks (about £60) a year conferred upon him, leading some to identify him as England's first Poet Laureate. This sign of royal favour may have encouraged him to publish the first volume of the folio collected edition of his works that year. Other volumes followed in 1640–41 and 1692. [See: Ben Jonson folios.]
In 1618, Ben Jonson set out for his ancestral Scotland on foot. He spent over a year there, and the best-remembered hospitality which he enjoyed was that of the Scottish poet, Drummond of Hawthornden. Drummond undertook to record as much of Jonson's conversation as he could in his diary, and thus recorded aspects of Jonson's personality that would otherwise have been less clearly seen. Jonson delivers his opinions, in Drummond's terse reporting, in an expansive and even magisterial mood. In the postscript added by Drummond, he is described as "a great lover and praiser of himself, a contemner and scorner of others".
While in Scotland, he was made an honorary citizen of Edinburgh. On returning to England, he was awarded an honorary Master of Arts degree from Oxford University.
The period between 1605 and 1620 may be viewed as Jonson's heyday. In addition to his popularity on the public stage and in the royal hall, he enjoyed the patronage of aristocrats such as Elizabeth Sidney (daughter of Sir Philip Sidney) and Lady Mary Wroth. This connection with the Sidney family provided the impetus for one of Jonson's most famous lyrics, the country house poem To Penshurst.
The 1620s began a lengthy and slow decline for Jonson. He was still well-known; from this time dates the prominence of the Sons of Ben or the "Tribe of Ben", those younger poets such as Robert Herrick, Richard Lovelace, and Sir John Suckling who took their bearing in verse from Jonson. However, a series of setbacks drained his strength and damaged his reputation.
Jonson returned to writing regular plays in the 1620s, but these are not considered among his best. They are of significant interest for the study of the culture of Charles I's England. The Staple of News, for example, offers a remarkable look at the earliest stage of English journalism. The lukewarm reception given that play was, however, nothing compared to the dismal failure of The New Inn; the cold reception given this play prompted Jonson to write a poem condemning his audience (the Ode to Myself), which in turn prompted Thomas Carew, one of the "Tribe of Ben," to respond in a poem that asks Jonson to recognize his own decline.[3]
The principal factor in Jonson's partial eclipse was, however, the death of James and the accession of King Charles I in 1625. Justly or not, Jonson felt neglected by the new court. A decisive quarrel with Jones harmed his career as a writer of court masques, although he continued to entertain the court on an irregular basis. For his part, Charles displayed a certain degree of care for the great poet of his father's day: he increased Jonson's annual pension to £100 and included a tierce of wine.
Despite the strokes that he suffered in the 1620s, Jonson continued to write. At his death in 1637 he seems to have been working on another play, The Sad Shepherd. Though only two acts are extant, this represents a remarkable new direction for Jonson: a move into pastoral drama. During the early 1630s he also conducted a correspondence with James Howell, who warned him about disfavour at court in the wake of his dispute with Jones.
Jonson is buried in Westminster Abbey, with the inscription "O Rare Ben Johnson" (sic) set in the slab over his grave. It has been suggested that this could be read "Orare Ben Jonson" (pray for Ben Jonson), which would indicate a deathbed return to Catholicism, but the carving shows a distinct space between "O" and "rare".[4] Researchers suggest that the tribute came from William D’Avenant, Jonson’s successor as Poet Laureate, as the same phrase appears on his gravestone nearby.[4][clarification needed] The fact that he was buried in an upright grave could be an indication of his reduced circumstances at the time of his death,[5] although it has also been written that Jonson asked for a grave exactly 18 inches square from the monarch and received an upright grave to fit in the requested space.[6] The same source claims that the epitaph came from the remark of a passerby to the grave.
Ultimately proved to actually have seen FRENCH service, albeit based upon Hungarian horseman's arms!
This came from an estate sale with several other blades from all over the world. All the others proved to be quite interesting and valuable, which tends to suggest that maybe they had belonged to a serious collector or researcher.
Now, I have finally discerne what this actually is. It's a very high ranking, presentation quality Hungarian cavalry Hussars saber, made in Solingen, from about Napoleonic times.
One expert says it is a "Kilij", used by Polish mercenaries in the service of the Hapsburgs. Another says it is a very old Turkish saber from the 18th Century.
Another wag says it's a cossack Panji rider saber, engraved with peace symbols to satisfy religious requirements.
The engravings or etchings on the blade are very weird and fascinating.
All rights reserved. Copyrighted.
Seemingly, every restaurant in Peru serves pizza. Many have clay, wood dired pizza ovens that are used for pizza and to heat just about anything else. Some are more fanciful than others. The smokestack on this one was fashioned into a snake.
Seemingly complete, '82' now serves as a rescue training aid within the Fire Training School at Halmstad.
msn 8126.
Halmstad 02-6-2012
Tamara, seemingly floating while talking to Tim off camera to the left. I love the great, non-chalant expression like she is is from The Jetsons.
Strobist: Studio strobes at 45 degree angles to subject, large softbox camera right, medium softbox camera left. eBay triggers. f/9 1/200th
Another seemingly inappropriate topic for a musical that produced a great show. I saw Off the Page Productions' "Typhoid Mary" and it was one of the highlights of my Fringe this year.
Seemingly overnight our street became one of the streets in Seattle to become permanently closed to thru-traffic. We have been testing it out.
R12856. Seemingly stored out of use, an Ae6/6 class Co-Co electric locomotive at Buchs.
April, 2003. Copyright © Ron Fisher.
Seemingly a hammer was required to uncouple our train, and not just a regular hammer but one with a solid bolt like shaft.. Its funny the guy didnt seem the right guy for this job.. his hands were very clean, his clothes were clean and he was wearing spotless light grey with peppermint trim flip flops...
1O7A6415
Seemingly devoid of a Stagecoach fleet number,GX06DXV was seen in The Friary,Guildford on 20th September 2013 at work on the Alton service.
...but also seemingly amused.
This was the first weekend without Bristol. At noon, when I should have been standing at the rail at the first joust, I was at the grocery store.
In this photo, I'm wearing the three things I bought myself this season. My new hat (The Sheepskin Shop), my leather cuff (Twizted Leather- I never was able to get a matching one for the other wrist), and my fingerless gloves (also the Sheepskin Shop).
I don't usually buy myself stuff at Bristol, but sometimes, the prices are too good and there's an item that speaks to you.
I miss my faire family. And I still have the rest of Monday's photos to finish. Then, bring on Stronghold!
Another seemingly inappropriate topic for a musical that produced a great show. I saw Off the Page Productions' "Typhoid Mary" and it was one of the highlights of my Fringe this year.
Sometimes Gracie steps out on the deck and howls briefly, seemingly at nothing in particular. Usually at least one dog some distance away will bark back. Sometimes we can hear dogs checking in from several directions. I'd love to know what they're telling each other.
Seemingly thousands of them, all swirling closely to one little coral head. its a beautiful thing to watch in motion.
On farmland that is now part of the Bruderhoff Campus near montgomery, NY. They use the land, and used to use this house as well, but the house now seems to be empty.
Seemingly endless rows of tori gates at Fushimi Inari Taisha (伏見稲荷大社) temple in Kyoto.
When I visit other people's streams, I like to leave encouraging comments or respectful critique. I never leave images, logos or text based decorations in my comments. I'd really appreciate it if you could do the same for me. Thank you!
If you like this image, please check out some of my other shots (if you have time!)
Plaisirs d'hiver - Marche de noel 2016 - Bright Brussels Winter
From 2 December 2016 to 5 February 2017, as the daylight recedes and gives way to the long and seemingly never-ending nights of the winter season, Brussels will light up, thanks to the Bright Brussels Winter project! An initiative of the Brussels-Capital region, you can follow a majestic circuit of light all around the inner ring, which will shine and sparkle with ten or so artistic light displays. Shimmering and impressive, these creations, accessible to all, light up several key areas of the city: the Place Stephanie, the Place Poelaert, the Square du Bastion, the Place du Luxembourg, the Botanical Garden, the Place Rogier, the Place Sainctelette, the Porte de Flandre, and the Stock Exchange (La Bourse). Private initiatives such as the Belfius tower, the P-V tower, and the ING Marnix will also be showing holiday spirit, adding to the spectacle. If you take a stroll along certain roads and in certain outer neighbourhoods such as the Avenue Louise, the Chaussee de Charleroi, the Avenue de la Toison d'or, and the Boulevard de Waterloo (Rue du Grand Cerf, Rue Jourdan, Rue Dejonker, Goulet Louise, or the Chaussee de Gant), you can dive into a true Christmas atmosphere with magical decorations. On foot, by bicycle, or by car, at last you will have a good reason to get out and rediscover our beautiful capital, thanks to a host of artistic works created by international artists. From the giant mirror ball to new and original works and majestically decorated buildings, the whole heart of Brussels will be transformed.
( Plaisirs d'Hiver et marche de Noel 2016
Du 25 novembre 2016 au 1er janvier 2017 dans le centre de Bruxelles.
Les Plaisirs d'Hiver, le grand marche des fetes de fin d'annee, revient dans le centre de la Ville de Bruxelles. L'evenement s'organise sur la Grand-Place de Bruxelles et autour de la Bourse, sur la place de la Monnaie, sur la place Sainte-Catherine et sur la place du Marche aux Poissons (Vismet).
Les Plaisirs d'Hiver 2016 c'est aussi:
* un marche de Noel de plus de 200 chalets
* des animations de Noel (maneges, grande roue, ...)
* une patinoire de glace (couverte) sur la place de la Monnaie (jusqu'au dimanche 8 janvier)
* un gigantesque sapin de Noel et des animations lumineuses (sons et lumieres) sur la Grand-Place
* concert de Lost Frequencies (mercredi 30 novembre, Grand-Place)
* Impulsion: playground lumineux au pied de la Bourse
* des visites guidees
* Origami Lights: Odyssee lumineuse a travers le Japon - video mapping (Eglise Sainte-Catherine) )
The Platform of the Eagles and Jaguars is one of the structures in Toltec Chichén Itzá seemingly dedicated to the military, and their role in capturing sacrificial victims.
Chichén Itzá -
One of the world's foremost archeological sites, the enormous Chichén Itzá is mind-boggling in a million ways.
It was a city built to intimidate, influence, inspire, and empower- and as such, is not at all unlike the cities we know and live in today. Who knows who it benefited or how each individual related to it, but there is a great deal of civic pride here. The practices carried out here are so alien to what most of us know today, but we can still understand what it is like to exist in a certain time and place, and to define where we are as home, for all better or worse.
It's thinking about the day-to-day that is most poignant. Countless people walked these streets, entered these buildings, each with their own hopes, dreams, and intrigues. Each trying to make sense of the world around them within the society they were brought up in. Each with pleasures, vices, gripes, and shortcomings. Some with imagination that could vault the stars. Some who devoted themselves wholly to the city and society around them, and others who dissented, perhaps quietly, living entire lives under the radar. But all around, surely there were many mornings in which these people may have just simply walked out of their homes and casually gazed at the huge pyramid and surrounding grandeur and just marvelled that humans could be capable of such things.
And what other people shrank back in horror- disgusted by the brutality of humanity?
and how many countless others were simply mortally terrified at the spiritual bloodshed?
We have no real way of knowing whether or not our most cherished modern monuments will someday be ruins themselves, drawing from strangers a similar sense of wonder and mystery, a thousand or two thousand years hence.
The name Chichén Itzá means "at the the well of the Itzá", a reference to the Cenote Sagrado (a huge sinkhole) which provided the water to make this city flourish in the riverless Yucatán.
The city was regionally significant as far back as AD600, during the Classic Period of Mayan history. At that time, however, this was something of a far-off backwater outpost, while the major Classic Period city-states further south, such as Tikal and Palenque, enjoyed being at the very heart of civilization.
The oldest visible remaining architecture here represents the Puuc ("hill" in Mayan) style and was probably built around 900AD. Sometime soon after that time, Chichén Itzá underwent a huge upheaval. This was the end of the Classic Period, when the great civilization of the south was collapsing (for reasons unknown, but probably tied, at least in some way, to overexploitation of the environment).
Chichén Itzá at this chaotic time came under great Toltec influence- the Toltecs had their capital at Tula, in the west, near Mexico City, and were the precursors to the Aztecs. Whether the Toltec influence was via direct invasion or via the Itzá Mayans is still debated. Either way, the city became deeply connected to the ideology of Central Mexico- an ideology which was strongly convinced that the perpetuation of earthly life was only guaranteed by sacrifice to the gods- a bloody, bellicose tradition that is exemplified throughout the newer portions of the city. The very same spectacular architecture that captivates visitors today seems, in some ways, to be desperate expression of a culture in decline....
In short, the older portions of the city demonstrate a deep connection to its Classic Mayan predecessors, via the Puuc tradition; and the newer portions (ca. AD 1000) demonstrate a fractured, and more desperately extreme time, highly swayed by outside forces. I have read that anywhere from 35,000 to 90,000 people lived here at its peak- no matter the figure, a huge number for ancient times.
Turmoil continued into the 1200's, after which point the city finally declined totally, being absorbed by the Spanish in the second half of the 1500's.
August 4, 2010
If you really want to truly appreciate this astounding place, find a way to come early in the morning- i.e. stay in a local town. We arrived at around 9am and had the place to ourselves- in the midday, just as the sun is becoming unbearable, (which is amazingly taxing on the brain, as we dizzily found out) hoards upon hoards of day-trippers arrive on buses, and what is so tranquil in the morning becomes a cattle run. We thankfully managed to stay a few steps ahead of the crowds. Definitely bring a ton of water, and be prepared to bake like you've never baked before in the extreme sun
What is seemingly the most accessible form of the photographic medium – the family photograph – has been transformed into a vital theme in the oeuvre of Swiss photographer Annelies Štrba (1947). Through the depth of her treatment, her ability to see new qualities in what has been viewed a thousand times, she was able to depict the reality of her personal family life in such a way as to transmit a truly valuable, all-embracing message on interpersonal relations.
With breathtaking ease, she transcends the boundaries of the banal and the concrete, bringing the photograph and its resonances into a timeless space yet all the while retaining its tender subtleties. Štrba has for some time developed the family theme through both still photography and video in parallel. One essential shift in emphasis, though, occurred in 1997, when she abandoned photography to concentrate exclusively on work with video and the subsequent computer animation of its individual sequences. Utilising special technical approaches, she began to create self-standing pictures of time-stopped “filmstrips” in fantastic colours, displaying her capabilities of a nearly magical imagination. An essential theme remaining present in the work continues to be the moments of family life – instants that are hardly even remembered thanks to their simplicity and quotidian transience. A second, yet no less vital parallel theme of Annelies Štrba’s is the series, starting from the very outset of her career, of photographs and later videos of cities that she has visited. Modern technology has given the artist the means of self-expression through nearly visionary slices of urban reality, which in certain instances acquire, under the influence of political events, a tragic tone of commemoration of the threats of human civilisation, particularly underscored through their contrast with her other work.
The present exhibition is intended to present a cross-section of all phases of the oeuvre of this truly exceptional creative personality, from her first black-and-white photographs from the late 1970s presented in the form of a slide show up to the most recent series of coloured images depicting the motif of elves. A central element of the project, significantly located in the centre of the exhibit itself, is an extensive series of video films. Štrba works to an unusual extent with real time, thus revealing to the viewers her ongoing method of seeing and the background to her work with artificial colouring in the self-standing pictures.
Even though this important photographer has displayed her work across the world as part of many solo as well as group exhibits, the Prague exhibition is most likely to be her first retrospective show of work outside of Switzerland.
Seemingly every single maid in Hong Kong gets Sunday off and goes to either Victoria Park or Kowloon Park to sit around on the concrete.
Arad is a small, seemingly isolated tel on the very edge of the presently easily fertile part of the Negev. It is 20 miles directly east of Beersheva and 15 miles west of the Dead Sea. It is physically separated from the Dead Sea by the barrier of the lower Judean Desert (more properly "wilderness") made up of the southern portion of the Hebron Hills.
Arad remained largely uninhabited for much of history after the Early Bronze Age town was deserted in circa 2,700 BCE. During the Iron Age a small fort was built ~ one of a number intended to defend the southern border. Whether this is the Arad mentioned in Numbers 21:1 & Joshua 12:14 is doubtful from the archaeological evidence. It is more likely that these references are to Tell el Milh, some 7 miles south-west of Tel Arad, where a fine Middle Bronze Age fortress has been excavated.
In Judges 1:16 we read, "The children of the Kenite, Moses 'brother- in- law, went up out of the city of palm trees with the children of Judah into the wilderness of Judah, which is in the south of Arad; and they went and lived with the people." Evidence at Tel Arad shows an open village being established here in the 11th century, which some have attributed to this Kenite occupation.
Excavations at Tel Arad have revealed an Iron Age fortress probably dating originally to the time of Solomon. Pharaoh Shishak (c.945/35 - 924/14 BCE) speaks of capturing Arad Rabbat, one of Solomon's border fortresses.
Arad is helpful for Biblical Archaeology in that it contains an early example of an Israelite temple, seemingly dedicated to YHWH. This can be seen taking up the major portion of the top right-hand quarter in the photo. Like the temple in Jerusalem it consists of an outer court, with an altar, an inner court and a Holy of Holies - all these can easily be seen in the picture.
Another seemingly inappropriate topic for a musical that produced a great show. I saw Off the Page Productions' "Typhoid Mary" and it was one of the highlights of my Fringe this year.
There are seemingly endless opportunities to shoot rural landscapes in and around the area of Utah County. Utah County is bundle of confused zoning, with both the industrial and nineteenth-century farms making way for new residential urbanization. The result is a confused identity for sure, with transitions from industrial to ancient (and often abandoned) farmland to new McMansion-style urbanization occurring with blocks.
Shot with the Leica MM and the 35 Summillux FLE. Processed in Tonality Pro
Seemingly oblivious of the magnificent line-up of steam power in the background, visitors to the West Somerset Railway look for a bargain at the secondhand bookstall at Minehead station. This image was inspired by a well known picture by Magnum photographer Martin Parr of two tourists looking at souvenirs against a backdrop of the Swiss Alps.
The locomotives, from the left, are 4936 Kinlet Hall, 4F no. 44422, 7828 Odney Manor, and S&D 7F no. 53808. All bar the Manor were in steam.
so fucking scared.
so fucking anxious, nervous, cautious, but seemingly careless.
seemingly not doing enough.
but doing everything I can.
but trying to be normal because otherwise I would fucking suffocate.
losing my mind.
everything has changed. everything has fallen apart. everything is slowly crumbling.
the entire world is panicking. but it doesn't seem like anything matters. it doesn't seem like anything will stop the world from falling apart.
the end is inescapable. there's too many that are too careless and think they are invincible. there's too many that believe just because it's not them that it never will be them, or it will never affect them, or someone that they love, or someone that someone they love loves.
I can't even say it without my chest clenching. I can't even talk about it without feeling my stomach twist and my lungs shrink.
but it's strange.
I wake up, and the birds are singing.
the sun bleeds through the periwinkle tufts of clouds and warms my skin.
the breeze makes the leaves sway in dance.
and it happens again and again, every day, uninterrupted.
and people still smile.
people still love one another.
people still have passions, and feelings, and hope.
it is strange
how much love I feel during such a lonely, scary, isolating time.
it is strange
how much positivity i have observed and experienced in light of all of the panic.
maybe it is naive to believe in the words of love & peace in such a time.
but oh it feels so much better to do so.
besides, what more can we do?
when we have isolated ourselves
and we have sacrificed a portion of our freedoms to protect the world
why do we worry still?
there is no questioning the severity of the situation
it is very, very serious, and has caused unimaginable loss, pain, and suffering to many
but how can we torture ourselves with worry when we are doing everything we can?
my heart aches for the world.
my mind is restless every night thinking about what's happened, and what will happen.
but I am exhausted with making myself anxious at all times.
and so I will write.
how lucky I am to be able to be home, and to be surrounded by the ones I love, and to be able to write my first world problems down on my computer and tell my friends and family I love them every night before I go to bed.
how lucky we are to not be alone.
how lucky we are to not be alone.
if this is the end, then in love I will leave you.
x
The seemingly endless density of the foliage is an illusion. John D Rockefeller Sr had large, mature trees planted to create the perception that the house was sited on a wooded hill that stretched down to the river. In fact, the house is surrounded by a golf course. This shot is taken from the terrace on the left side of the house looking to the west (right).
This seemingly placid One-horned Rhino just feet away from us was totally oblivious to the oggling humans all around him, who comprised of me, a couple of hotel officials and a group of Chinese tourists, including one extremely foolish Chinese lady who tried to get within inches of him to get that stupid selfie with her cell phone. Thank goodness she did not notice the larger and more dangerous adult Rhino grazing in the distance. The hotel officials kept telling the foolish lady to back off and that she was lucky this fellow is sitting- it would take a while for the heavy beast to get up, or else she would be mincemeat by now. (Sauraha, Chitwan, Nepal, Oct/ Nov. 2019)
ALL SAINTS, HOLCOMBE ROGUS
Is seemingly all Perp. yet inside the two arcades are dissimilar, the north typically Devon, with bands of foliage capitals, that on the south plainer and typical of Somerset. There was a Victorian restoration and the east end reflects that with a rather Burges-esque reredos. Spacious though the church is, you come to Holcombe for the fittings and monuments. A former Perp screen is now wrapped around the north chapel, but was brought here from Tiverton. It is unusual in having wooden ribbons in the tracery, as if draped over. To the west is a complete Family Pew, Jacobean, with fifteen reliefs with scenes from the Old Testament. In the north chapel, the best two monuments. To the east Sir Richard Bluett d1614 lies propped up by an elbow on a shelf, looking down in a very caring way at his recumbent wife. Above inscriptions, a coffered arch, allegorical figures and achievement. To the west Sir John Bluett d1634 and wife, both recumbent, she above and behind him, under a heavy pedimented canopy supported on black columns. In frnt kneel eight children in a row, four carrying skulls, and maybe all girls? The wife's feet rest on a soppy looking dog, but his rest on a nut-eating squirrel. As Cameron continued snapping away, Mum and I passed comment on a poor lady commemorated in the chancel who had thirteen sons and nine daughters. [open]