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Bruxelles - Belgium
Copyright © some[wh]air
I met her on my way back.
And she told me her nightmare tale.
Her destiny was to make dream all the girls in town,
But nobody did the same to her.
She just could stay beautiful forever.
What a lovely happy-ending.
Fairy Tale Theme for Macro Mondays
The three bears background in this image is a miniature ceramic glazed figurine that is 1.5 inches tall and wide. The miniature doll's face in the foreground 1 inch high
[...] A Husky's eyes can tell a thousand tales [...]
Nikon D800, Tokina 12/24 f/4, 16mm - f/4 - 1/400s
Pelister National Park, Битола, Македонија (August, 2022)
A Plague of Tale: Innocence
- Ansel enhancments by Otis_Inf and IDK31
- Post processing done in Reshade and Photoshop
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I've promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep...
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Once in a while, in the middle of an ordinary life,love gives us a fairy tale.
PS: I knew this isn't a great picture in terms of composition, but I liked the way it came out, particularly for that emotion! Taken at Malta on a dance show.
Texture: www.flickr.com/photos/27805557@N08/4558214854/
So many things I would like to say!
First of all, a huge thank you to Nai for exhibiting my works at DBL. Without her constant support and encouragement, I would have been a lot less today.
A huge thank you as well to all who came for the opening, and I MAY be planning something for those who bought my works that day. ;) The works will be up there until the end of May, featuring fabulous work from Zolar Merlin as well, do feel free to drop by slurl.com/secondlife/Casablanca Estates Two/87/234/1927
Well, I can't believe the last time I posted something was nearly two months ago. RL work swarmed in and I couldn't go back to SL at all.
I was finally free last week, but after stopping for so long, it was really very difficult to get back. I'm woefully rusty and behind with everything SL and flickr. I had waited eagerly for the holiday and I thought I could bounce back quickly, but I was wrong; I was generally uninspired and rather confused.
Well, enough of my ranting! I saw an outfit featured by carthalis rossini www.flickr.com/photos/carthalis/4608378193/ and immediately knew that I had to check out AVid. I was amazed by the range and quality, and this outfit really caught my eye, and finally something inspired me to do something. It wasn't easy though, I'm still terribly rusty.
Well, I'm still ranting. Pardon me, I have been saving up nearly two months of rant. Glad to be back and hope to get more inspired and get used to everything again :D
Outfit: Darklander by AVid Gothic
It was enlightening to talk with the local(s) about the (forced) decline of Newfoundland's Cod fishery. Those discussions dovetailed with this scene of an old fishing shack.
Getting the exposure right on this handheld scene was fun as well.
Thanks for looking!
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Comments and constructive criticism always appreciated.
Stream on Black....Follow on Facebook....My Profile (to get to webpage)
Jal Mahal (meaning “Water Palace”) is a palace located in the middle of the Man Sagar Lake in Jaipur city, the capital of the state of Rajasthan, India.
The Jal Mahal palace is considered an architectural beauty built in the Rajput and Mughal styles of architecture (common in Rajasthan) providing a picturesque view of the lake (from the Mansagar dam on the eastern side of the lake that acts as a vantage point for viewing the lake and the valley), and the surrounding Nahargarh (abode of the tigers) hills. The Jal Mahal Palace was built in red sandstone in 18th Century and is a five-story palace, with the first four floors being submerged under water.
The palace remained uninhabited, was not maintained and hence not visited by tourists. To remove the ecological damage caused to the lake due to indiscriminate pollution from the city sewerage, restoration measures were undertaken, since 2001, after a detailed study by the Government of Rajasthan.
www.flickr.com/photos/mulherpequena/3181672023/in/set-721...
In the heart of Verona, where ancient stones whisper tales of love and tragedy, a man named Luca strummed his weathered guitar. Seated in his wheelchair, he played beneath an archway near the Arena, his music a bittersweet contrast to the hurried footsteps of tourists.
Luca had learned long ago that even the simplest things could be stolen. He secured his few belongings with a chain, a silent barrier against those who saw his misfortune as an easy opportunity. The first time someone had tried to take it, he had fought back, his voice louder than the thief’s greed. But he had learned—music could soothe a heart, but it could not protect an instrument.
And so, as the sun cast golden light upon Verona’s cobblestones, Luca played on. His guitar, though bound in chains, sang with the freedom of a soul that refused to be silenced.