View allAll Photos Tagged simic
D891_039b
06/07/2018 : Arles, quai de la Gare maritime : exposition Contemplation (Matthieu Ricard phot., Simón Vélez, Stefana Simic arch.)
Snails... being snails....
A variiant of this was accepted for the Nature category in the International exhibition of art photography MOMENT 2013 (run by photo club Kozjak from Macedonia): kozjak50.com/photomoment/rules.pdf
The organizing committee counted 3686 photos from 356 authors from 66 countries.The judges Slobodan Simic (Serbia), Hulki Muradi (Turkey) and Mariya Andrichuk (Ukraine), decided to accept 404 photographs in section MOVEMENT, 490 photographs in section PEOPLE and 416 photographs in section NATURE.
“Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse
while all the others were making ships.”
~ Charles Simic ~
I love to stay in bed
All morning,
Covers thrown off,
Eyes closed, listening.
Outside they are opening
Their primers
In the little school
Of the corn field.
There's a smell of damp hay,
Of horses, laziness,
Summer sky and eternal life.
I know all the dark places
Where the sun hasn't reached yet,
Where the last cricket
Has just hushed; anthills
Where it sounds like it's raining;
Slumbering spiders spinning wedding dresses.
I pass over the farmhouses
Where the little mouths open to suck,
Barnyards where a man, naked to the waist,
Washes his face and shoulders with a hose,
Where the dishes begin to rattle in the kitchen.
The good tree with its voice
Of a mountain stream
Knows my steps.
It, too, hushes.
I stop and listen:
Somewhere close by
A stone cracks a knuckle,
Another rolls over in its sleep.
I hear a butterfly stirring
Inside a caterpillar,
I hear the dust talking
Of last night's storm.
Further ahead, someone
Even more silent
Passes over the grass
Without bending it.
And all of a sudden!
In the midst of that quiet,
It seems possible
To live simply on this earth.
--Charles Simic
I think this is Ana Simic in the high jump, but it's hard to be sure; there were three competitors who looked quite similar and wore exactly the same kit.
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić
Visit me on:
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Photographer: Ivana Jurčić www.ivanajurcic.com
Model: Tamara Nikolić
Make up: Ana Pink
Hair: Vladimir Simić
Assistant: Milan Momčilović
Strobist info
** Setup with 3 lights **
Model left/right: Bowens 60° reflector with grid
Camera right: Bowens High Performance reflector
Lighting: Bowens Gemini 500R
Gear: Canon 5D MKII/70-200mm
Triggered with: PocketWizard Plus II
Visnja Amanovic exclusive editorial SUMMER IN THE CITY for SVET magazine
photographer Bojan Stanic
make up artist Aleksandra Sanja Orlandic Sretkovic
hair Dragan Stambolija Atelje Simic by Mallia
wardrobe Vanja Pantin
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić
Visit me on:
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Photographer: Ivana Jurčić www.ivanajurcic.com
Model: Tamara Nikolić
Make up: Ana Pink
Hair: Vladimir Simić
Assistant: Milan Momčilović
9370 Simić - Antun Simić (1865.-1936.) Atelier Ivan Rechnitzer Margaretska ulica 6 Zagreb poslanio 17.IV.1914. za Župnika Oskara Simića u Sveti Martin pod Okićem -- i vjerojatno jedna od kćeri Marija Paulina ili Helena
Construtores de labirintos
Tenho de estar completamente só quando penso,
E no parapeito mais alto
Debruçado sobre a rua vazia.
A janela poeirenta da loja lá em baixo
Está cheia de fantasmas ao pôr do sol.
Ali vai o meu velho. Já tem a idade que tenho agora.
De olhos fechados
chama as criadas pelos seus nomes secretos:
Sto. Isaac, o sírio,
Sto. Nilo, que escreveu sobre a oração.
O vinho das ambiguidades eternas,
Se faz favor, à saúde do corvo
Sentado no cimo de uma igreja branca.
A sua vida também é um emaranhado fantástico.
Os nossos infortúnios são empreiteiros.
Esquecem-se sempre das janelas,
Fazem os tectos baixos e pesados.
«É só uma lua de papel», cantam...
Mas estou a ir demasiado depressa.
No fim de um corredor escuro
Há um fósforo aceso numa mão trémula.
«Ainda tenho pavor do palco»,
Diz a bela mulher,
E depois guia-nos por entre guarda-roupas
Com espelhos e portas empenadas,
Onde estão pendurados vestidos sussurrantes,
Espartilhos sussurrantes, sapatos com botões -
Do tipo que se usaria para cavalgar uma cabra.
A sua filha, dizem-nos, está tísica.
Há uma marca do polegar oleoso da morte
na sua face angélica:
Ela quer que eu brinque debaixo da mesa
Dos jogadores de cartas silenciosos.
Brincamos e é como o palácio em Cnossos.
A memória, o único fósforo queimado do meu coração:
A sua mão guiando-me nas ruínas,
E as cartas sussurrando sobre as nossas cabeças
Que a nossa juventude e o nosso amor aturdiram.
Charles Simic
PREVISÃO DE TEMPO
PARA UTOPIA E ARREDORES
selecção e tradução de
José Alberto Oliveira
Assírio & Alvim
Visnja Amanovic exclusive editorial SUMMER IN THE CITY for SVET magazine
photographer Bojan Stanic
make up artist Aleksandra Sanja Orlandic Sretkovic
hair Dragan Stambolija Atelje Simic by Mallia
wardrobe Vanja Pantin
Visnja Amanovic exclusive editorial SUMMER IN THE CITY for SVET magazine
photographer Bojan Stanic
make up artist Aleksandra Sanja Orlandic Sretkovic
hair Dragan Stambolija Atelje Simic by Mallia
wardrobe Vanja Pantin
10062 R Rijeka Cartolina Postale Levelezö-Lap Madame Danica Majcen - Šimić 30.VI.1903. Opatija Abbazia za Krapina
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić
Visit me on:
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Photographer: Ivana Jurčić www.ivanajurcic.com
Model: Jovana Knežević
Make up: Ana Pink
Hair: Vladimir Simić
Styling: Nemanja Ivanišević
Assistant: Milan Momčilović
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić
Visit me on:
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Making of: youtu.be/jZ7LUFwVSO0
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić www.ivanajurcic.com
Model: Jovana Knežević
Make up: Ana Pink
Hair: Vladimir Simić
Styling: Nemanja Ivanišević
BTS Video/Assistant: Milan Momčilović
Video edit: Alex Tselekidis
“The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe. One moment they make us despair of our kind, and the next we see in them the reflection of the divine image.” ~ Charles W. Chesnutt ~
“He lives in you. He lives in me. He watches over everything we see. Into the water. Into the truth. In your reflection. He lives in you.” ~ anon ~
"You'd be surprised how many lighthouse people we meet with a handshake and leave with a hug." ~ Joseph Cocking ~
Sardegna Villanova Monteleone (Sa Serra) 15 agosto 2016.
Un grazie a Daniele Birtele per la conferma della determinazione.
Diamond League athletics at the Birmingham Grand Prix, Alexander Stadium. Ana Simic (CRO) was 6th with a best jump of 1.91m.
TAPESTRY
It hangs from heaven to earth.
There are trees in it, cities, rivers,
small pigs and moons. In one corner
the snow falling over a charging cavalry,
in another women are planting rice.
You can also see:
a chicken carried off by a fox,
a naked couple on their wedding night,
a column of smoke,
an evil-eyed woman spitting into a pail of milk.
What is behind it?
- Space, plenty of empty space.
And who is talking now?
- A man asleep under his hat.
What happens when he wakes up?
- He'll go into de barbershop.
They'll shave his beard, nose, ears and hair,
To make him look like everyone else.
Charles Simic
2325 Fot Zagreb 13.VI.1929. Fotograf R. Šimić Mesnička ulica Zagreb - Nepoznata skupina Antikvarijat Mali Neboder Rijeka AMN Zagreb.
iza: imgur.com/wrx9sdL
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić
Visit me on:
Facebook | Blog | Model Mayhem | twitter
Photographer: Ivana Jurčić www.ivanajurcic.com
Model: Sonja Maki Lazetic
Hair: Vladimir Simic
Make up: Ana Pink
Styling: Irena Jovanovic
Assistant: Milan Momcilovic
“My life is my message.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi ~
Well folks, the party's over! What a ball! Many mixed messages!
“If no one ever took risks, Michaelangelo would have painted the Sistine floor.” ~ Neil Simon ~
Thanks to my flickr friends for your patience while I was deep sea fishing!
They’re waiting to be murdered,
Or evicted. Soon
They expect to have nothing to eat.
In the meantime, they sit.
A violent pain is coming, they think.
It will start in the heart
And climb into the mouth.
They’ll be carried off in stretchers, howling.
Tonight they watch the window
Without exchanging a word.
It has rained, and now it looks
Like it’s going to snow a little.
I see him get up to lower the shades.
If their window stays dark,
I know his hand has reached hers
Just as she was about to turn on the lights.
Charles Simic, “Old Couple” from Charles Simic: Selected Early Poems. Copyright © 1999 by Charles Simic.
zen brush, sketchbook
reposting as i accidentally deleted a whole bunch of pictures on the beta camera roll and didn't know the action would delete even the ones i had already posted on my photo stream. it looks like "camera roll" is "organize" in new clothing.
Elaeagnus angustifolia, Russian Olive, Uskolisna zlolesina (Hr), Nikolić, T., Dafina (Hr), Šimić, F., 1980 Ruska maslina, 10347 Bot, 10345 PhotosHSzentes20230728_50 10347 Bot
D891_038
06/07/2018 : Arles, quai de la Gare maritime : exposition Contemplation (Matthieu Ricard phot., Simón Vélez, Stefana Simic arch.)
Miramare Castle (Italian: Castello di Miramare; Slovene: Grad Miramar; German: Schloss Miramar; Spanish: Castillo de Miramar) is a 19th-century castle direct on the Gulf of Trieste between Barcola and Grignano in Trieste, northeastern Italy. It was built from 1856 to 1860 for Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian and his wife, Charlotte of Belgium, later Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico and Empress Carlota of Mexico, based on a design by Carl Junker.
The castle's grounds include an extensive cliff and seashore park of 22 hectares (54 acres) designed by the archduke. The grounds were completely re-landscaped to feature numerous tropical species of trees and plants.
-----------------------------------------------
11454 R Trieste Miramar 8041 Verlag von G. Rüger & Co. Wien V/I AUTO CHROM Doctor Simich Villa Gisella Abbazia 17. SEP. 1901.
I believe in the soul; so far
It hasn't made much difference.
I remember an afternoon in Sicily.
The ruins of some temple.
Columns fallen in the grass like naked lovers.
The olives and goat cheese tasted delicious
And so did the wine
With which I toasted the coming night,
The darting swallows,
The Saracen wind and moon.
It got darker. There was something
Long before there were words:
The evening meal of shepherds . . .
A fleeting whiteness among the trees . . .
Eternity eavesdropping on time.
The goddess going to bathe in the sea.
She must not be followed.
These rocks, these cypress trees,
May be her old lovers.
Oh to be one of them, the wine whispered to me.
Inspired by something a friend said ;) View On Black
[The Shulamite to Her Beloved]
"Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is as strong as death,
Jealousy as cruel as the grave;
Its flames are flames of fire,
A most vehement flame."
Songs 8:6
"And we have known and believed the love that God has for us.
God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him.
1John 4:16
For our God is a consuming fire."
Hebrews 12:29
'So he answered and said, "'You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind,' and 'your neighbor as yourself.' "
Luke 10:27
*******
The elements for this came from dreamstime (can't put a link, sorry):
Girl with sword © Alexander Platonov
Grunge Texture © Yellowdesignstudio
Abstract fire © Bram Janssens
Magical fiery background © Leigh Prather
Loving Warm Heart © Robert Mizerek
Tribal flames © Aleksejs Kostins
Tribal art © Aleksejs Kostins
Black decorative design © Andjelka Simic
Sardegna Villanova Monteleone (Sa Serra) 15 agosto 2016.
Un grazie a Daniele Birtele per la conferma della determinazione.
I've added a quote to this one but it is just a variation to the previous here. My scale series is growing.
Enjoy ... I love lighthouses ... how about you?
Textures are Kim's kk_1128magic, and kk_desert.
Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse while all others were making ships. ~ Charles Simic
D891_031b
06/07/2018 : Arles, quai de la Gare maritime : exposition Contemplation (Matthieu Ricard phot., Simón Vélez, Stefana Simic arch.)
“Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse while all the others were making ships.”
C Simic
Coimbra
( Encontro Ilustrar Portugal )
____________________
Construtores de labirintos
Tenho de estar completamente só quando penso,
E no parapeito mais alto
Debruçado sobre a rua vazia.
A janela poeirenta da loja lá em baixo
Está cheia de fantasmas ao pôr do sol.
Ali vai o meu velho. Já tem a idade que tenho agora.
De olhos fechados
chama as criadas pelos seus nomes secretos:
Sto. Isaac, o sírio,
Sto. Nilo, que escreveu sobre a oração.
O vinho das ambiguidades eternas,
Se faz favor, à saúde do corvo
Sentado no cimo de uma igreja branca.
A sua vida também é um emaranhado fantástico.
Os nossos infortúnios são empreiteiros.
Esquecem-se sempre das janelas,
Fazem os tectos baixos e pesados.
«É só uma lua de papel», cantam...
Mas estou a ir demasiado depressa.
No fim de um corredor escuro
Há um fósforo aceso numa mão trémula.
«Ainda tenho pavor do palco»,
Diz a bela mulher,
E depois guia-nos por entre guarda-roupas
Com espelhos e portas empenadas,
Onde estão pendurados vestidos sussurrantes,
Espartilhos sussurrantes, sapatos com botões -
Do tipo que se usaria para cavalgar uma cabra.
A sua filha, dizem-nos, está tísica.
Há uma marca do polegar oleoso da morte
na sua face angélica:
Ela quer que eu brinque debaixo da mesa
Dos jogadores de cartas silenciosos.
Brincamos e é como o palácio em Cnossos.
A memória, o único fósforo queimado do meu coração:
A sua mão guiando-me nas ruínas,
E as cartas sussurrando sobre as nossas cabeças
Que a nossa juventude e o nosso amor aturdiram.
Charles Simic
PREVISÃO DE TEMPO
PARA UTOPIA E ARREDORES
selecção e tradução de
José Alberto Oliveira
Assírio & Alvim
_______________
Errata
Where it says snow
read teeth-marks of a virgin
Where it says knife read
you passed through my bones
like a police-whistle
Where it says table read horse
Where it says horse read my migrant's bundle
Apples are to remain apples
Each time a hat appears
think of Isaac Newton
reading the Old Testament
Remove all periods
They are scars made by words
I couldn't bring myself to say
Put a finger over each sunrise
it will blind you otherwise
That damn ant is still stirring
Will there be time left to list
all errors to replace
all hands guns owls plates
all cigars ponds woods and reach
that beer-bottle my greatest mistake
the word I allowed to be written
when I should have shouted
her name
Charles Simic