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The most tangible and versatile analog audio format ever invented: reel-to-reel tape.
Explored October 3, 2022.
strolling through the old town of pollença as the late afternoon sun washes the cobblestones in a warm glow, here's a moment where two worlds gently collide. the young woman, engrossed in her digital world, walks by a storefront named 'brechia', unaware of her reflection that perfectly mirrors her in the shop’s glass— a silent twin in the physical realm. it's a dance between the tangible and the transient, a snapshot where technology intersects with tradition in the heart of mallorca’s northeastern gem.
The fog is an illusion—
A master of disguise,
Which hides the tangible
Before our very eyes.
But when the fog has lifted
Everything’s still there,
And the tangible
Only seemed to’ve disappeared.
DewXon City:
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/DewXon/96/206/22
REZZ DAY: 14 years ago today, I stumbled across an article about a social platform named Second Life. To say I was intrigued, was an understatement. And with my curiosity in tow, I signed up as a new resident of this Virtual World and I have not looked back since.
This world has afforded me many things both tangible and spiritual. In this world, I was able to learn about business, and with those skills, utilize them in my real life to accomplish successes I never thought possible.
This world has also allowed a doorway to realities beyond my wildest dreams and If I never get anything from it again, I have been blessed.
I have also met some really wonderful people who I know without this world I would have never had the opportunity to have them in my life and for that, I will forever be grateful.
Unfortunately, I have also met some not so nice people who would rather enter this world and reek havoc than to see the beauty in this world we call Second Life and utilize it in a positive way.
I have had to make a lot of decisions in my life, some good, some bad. But for all that I have experienced in this world, the good, the bad, and the ugly, I would not trade this experience for the world.
To my friends, family, and loved ones, you have made my SL worthwhile. You have been my rock, my sounding board, and my confidants through thick and thin and you have a special place in my heart till the wheels fall off.
Loyalty is hard to find in this world but when you find it hold on to it with everything that you have. I love you all.
Honeydew Hilite
Resident, Second life
Tangibles.
Pateando puertas acciones malvadas objetivos rebaños vocación filosófica poderes devastadores dinamitas literatura lecciones caras ruidos embrutecidos,
delirious dårskap sin pessimisme tilstede påvirkning steder intellektuelle former utallige muligheter eldgamle andakter følsomhet kontoer,
charmes médiocres considérer les goûts déduire les esprits les règles montantes la connaissance les découvertes les ignorants les idées industrieuses les passions diaboliques,
plebeus predileções jorrando exercícios tirânicos divagando diabos questões mal-entendidos morais desejáveis exemplos enredando,
ינווענטיוונאַס סודות טיפענישן צאָרעס באשעפענישן פּאַמפּערינג אַרבעט פאָלגעוודיקייַט וועלט דיסענגיידזש דוטיז באַגרייַפן דיאַגנאָסיס,
混合疾患純粋な麻痺の主張懐疑論驚くべき否定的な流れる危険な地下の懐疑論者曲がった仮説生理学的病気神経質な美徳バラストの決定自由の喜び.
Steve.D.Hammond.
[Bonduaries]
During the winter months in the Po Valley , the fog is a part of the landscape, cold, dump, almost tangible.
Fog is moisture in the nostrils, is a limited landscapes. You feel isolated, almost blinded by the white. The gaze is limited and the fog tracks the boundaries.
There are places you always pass by, common places that turn invisible, canceled by the chaos of buildings and constructions.
The fog, greedy of space, grants you the crumbs of what encompasses, defines the boundaries forcibly, giving back, sarcastically, the most common details.
These details turn unique, eye-catching, aesthetically ready for photographic consecration.
The streets, the buildings and the fields are transformed into landscapes that you can only imagine. A pole, the wires of the light, a gasoline station is all that you can see.
They are the boundaries the fog gives you.”
CONFINI
"La nebbia in pianura padana, nei mesi invernali, è parte integrante del paesaggio, fredda, umida, quasi tangibile.
La nebbia è il freddo, l'umidità nelle narici, lo sguardo che fatica, il paesaggio che si chiude per isolare e delimitare lo sguardo, tracciare i Confini.
Ci sono luoghi davanti ai quali si passa spesso, luoghi talmente presenti da diventare anonimi immersi come sono nel caos dei fitti fabbricati dalla pianura.
La nebbia ne riscatta il loro valore; isolati dal resto del paesaggio, assurgono a linee di confine oltre le quali tutto è celato, misterioso: il paesaggio padano diventa metafisico, non più fisico. Lo senti, lo percepisci ma non lo vedi.
La nebbia è avida di spazio. Ti concede briciole di quello che ingloba, delimita forzatamente i confini, valorizza i dettagli, concedendoti sarcasticamente quelli che più vendono trascurati.
Li rende unici, accattivanti, esteticamente pronti alla consacrazione fotografica.
Le strade, gli edifici e i campi si trasformano in paesaggi che puoi solo immaginare. Un palo, i fili della luce, una stazione della benzina è tutto quello che ti viene concesso. Sono i confini forzati che la nebbia, avida, ti restituisce."
There was a change tangible in the air that buzzed with the voices of summer - the dull hum of several simultaneous conversations or distant bird songs barely reaching our ears. I submit it is the air, the aura, that is different from the other seasons. With summer comes a time when anything seems possible - the strange closeness of the sun warming the spirits of each and every body, overflowing with energy, inspiration, creativity, joy, love. Summer is the season for adventure.
Do I sound like a broken record to anyone else?
Madison, again. Effortlessly flawless, this girl is.
There's a good summer somewhere in the cards. I'll be doing self portraits sometime soon again. It's a bit harder with film, but I'm going to try. It's been a while, I bet you all forgot what I looked like.
Amtrak Boston to Washington Acela train 2159 coils around past the old New Haven era concrete milepost 190 on the famed Shoreline route. In the foreground are the rails of the Providence and Worcester Railroad at this one time junction known as 'Boston Switch' five miles north of Providence Union Station. Visible to the left of the lead power car and partially obscured by the catenary poles and spring growth is the crumbling tile roofed pagoda style interlocking tower.
This line was built as the Boston & Providence in 1847 as a new route into the city from East Jct. near South Attleboro, MA. Their original 1835 route traveled to East Providence where passengers and freight were ferried across the Providence River into downtown. From this point to Union Station the P&W and B&P were operated a joint facility. In 1892 the P&W was leased to the New Haven and a year later the former B&P (by then in the Old Colony fold) joined the growing empire and both routes now fell under the aegis of the same company.
In 1914 a massive grade separation and line relocation project in Pawtucket took place. This was about the eastern limits of the work and according to Edward J. Ozog's phenomenal Railroad's of Rhode Island site:
"SS 156 was built to protect the east end of the line relocation. Switches and signals were operated by electricity. The plan of the tower was similar to SS 154 built at the same time at the west end of the relocation but adjusted for its location and orientation. The tower was reduced to short hours when the depression struck and it was closed in 1935 and its duties transferred to Woodlawn Tower. In 1937 the interlocking machine was sent to Bridgeport for use in SS 60.".
Remarkably some 87 years after the last shift was worked here it still stands guard as a tangible link to the Ocean State's railroading heritage
Central Falls, Rhode Island
Monday May 9, 2022
Even though she sleeps upon your satin
Even though she wakes you with a kiss
Do not say the moment was imagined
Do not stoop to strategies like this.
As someone long prepared for this to happen
Go firmly to the window.
Drink it in.
Exquisite music. Alexandra laughing.
Your firm commitments tangible again.
- Leonard Cohen
BONDUARIES
“During the winter months in the Po Valley , the fog is a part of the landscape, cold, dump, almost tangible.
Fog is moisture in the nostrils, is a limited landscapes. You feel isolated, almost blinded by the white. The gaze is limited and the fog tracks the boundaries.
There are places you always pass by, common places that turn invisible, canceled by the chaos of buildings and constructions.
The fog, greedy of space, grants you the crumbs of what encompasses, defines the boundaries forcibly, giving back, sarcastically, the most common details.
These details turn unique, eye-catching, aesthetically ready for photographic consecration.
The streets, the buildings and the fields are transformed into landscapes that you can only imagine. A pole, the wires of the light, a gasoline station is all that you can see.
They are the boundaries the fog gives you.”
CONFINI
"La nebbia in pianura padana, nei mesi invernali, è parte integrante del paesaggio, fredda, umida, quasi tangibile.
La nebbia è il freddo, l'umidità nelle narici, lo sguardo che fatica, il paesaggio che si chiude per isolare e delimitare lo sguardo, tracciare i Confini.
Ci sono luoghi davanti ai quali si passa spesso, luoghi talmente presenti da diventare anonimi immersi come sono nel caos dei fitti fabbricati dalla pianura.
La nebbia ne riscatta il loro valore; isolati dal resto del paesaggio, assurgono a linee di confine oltre le quali tutto è celato, misterioso: il paesaggio padano diventa metafisico, non più fisico. Lo senti, lo percepisci ma non lo vedi.
La nebbia è avida di spazio. Ti concede briciole di quello che ingloba, delimita forzatamente i confini, valorizza i dettagli, concedendoti sarcasticamente quelli che più vendono trascurati.
Li rende unici, accattivanti, esteticamente pronti alla consacrazione fotografica.
Le strade, gli edifici e i campi si trasformano in paesaggi che puoi solo immaginare. Un palo, i fili della luce, una stazione della benzina è tutto quello che ti viene concesso. Sono i confini forzati che la nebbia, avida, ti restituisce."
A true architectural wonder, the Basilica of Our Lady of Victory stands as a tangible symbol of one man's unshakable faith and devotion to his patroness, Mary. It is a place of wondrous beauty, radiating hope to all those who arrive at its doors in desperate need. Its hundreds of paintings, sculptures, and mosaics dazzle the senses and evoke awe in even the hardest of hearts. But, above all, the Basilica is a gift of thanks. A gift, offered by Msgr. Nelson Baker, V.G., to his helpmate, Our Lady of Victory, for more than 50 years of inspiration and spiritual assistance.
The Gift
The year was 1921. Although Father Baker was 79 years old, he was still a visionary with great dreams -- and he had one more that needed attention. At a routine parish council meeting, the humble priest shocked all in attendance as he calmly unveiled ambitious plans for a shrine that would rival any within the U.S. Speaking before an astonished crowd, Father Baker outlined his desire for the finest materials and artists to come together for a true masterwork -- a way of paying homage to the Blessed Mother who provided him with so much throughout the years. Astounding all with his infectious vigor, construction was begun almost immediately.
Knowing that he had not set aside a penny for the new shrine's building did not seem to upset him either, as Father Baker was confident that Our Lady of Victory would again look kindly upon him -- and She did. The "Padre of the Poor" sent out a call of support and it was answered by thousands of citizens from around the nation, happy to support such a divine project. Some contributed through the Association of Our Lady of Victory, Father Baker's pioneering direct-mail fundraising club (via per-brick sponsorships of $10), while countless others sent offerings both large and small.
By late1925, construction of the great Sanctuary of Our Lady of Victory was completed and the first Mass was held there on Christmas of that year. Amazingly, when it opened the following year, the Basilica had no debt, having been completely paid for at a cost of $3.2 million. On May 25, 1926, a very special consecration ceremony took place. Attended by thousands of local dignitaries, priests, nuns, and well-wishers, the event was presided over by Father Baker, Bishop William Turner of the Diocese of Buffalo, and Cardinal Patrick Hayes. Within two months an even higher honor was bestowed upon the shrine as it was officially designated a Minor Basilica via an apostolic decree from Pope Pius XI. Father Baker's greatest dream had been realized: the gift had been given
Through the Years
Although the Basilica has seen many years, it has not seen too many changes. Only three events have altered the original design of the shrine significantly.
In 1941, a freak and violent lightning storm caused major damage to the Basilica's original twin towers. Father Baker's first successor, Msgr. Joseph Maguire, led the efforts to refurbish the structures, replacing the marble towers with the lower, enclosed, copper-dome-tipped towers that can be seen today.
The only other change to the Basilica's exterior took place some 60 years later. Piles of snow and ice caused by the harsh winter of 2001-2002 took its toll on the National Shrine, forcing Msgr. Robert Wurtz to replace the shrine's greenish-hued roof. When the Basilica was first built, the dome and the roof were made of a shiny copper, but, over time, those features turned green due to prolonged exposure to the elements (the same chemical change seen on the Statue of Liberty). A new copper roof was put up, and although, it doesn't match the other greenish highlights, the structure will begin to turn colors in upcoming years and is expected to blend right in with the other sections of copper in about 50 years.
Father Baker Comes Home
March 11, 1999, was a date which would see a profound change in the shrine, and in the minds of thousands of Western New Yorkers. It was on that day, that Father Nelson Baker came home.
In July 1998, Msgr. Robert Wurtz, pastor of OLV Parish announced that the earthly remains of Father Baker would be transferred from nearby Holy Cross Cemetery into his most beloved of creations, the OLV Basilica. The move, which was ordered by the Congregation for the Causes of Saints in Rome, would help raise awareness of Father Baker, his mission, and his legacy. On that brilliant morning in March, Father Baker's casket, carried by six men who were raised by the Padre of the Poor himself, was placed in a sarcophagus within the Grotto Shrine to Our Lady of Lourdes, found on the southern end of the Basilica's transept. A truly unique area, the Grotto is hewn out of black lava rock from Mount Vesuvius in Italy. At the time of its construction, Father Baker insisted on finding a material that was untouched by humans to pay tribute to the vision of Our Blessed Lady to St. Bernadatte in Lourdes, France. It is estimated that nearly 6,000 people passed through the Basilica's doors that day just to honor the humble priest and all of his accomplishments.
Today & Beyond
In 2001, a celebration 75 years in the making was held as the OLV Parish celebrated the National Shrine's Diamond Jubilee. As the 75th Anniversary of consecration approached, a committee of parishioners and OLV Institutions' staff members banned together to plan a truly special day. On May 26, a special Mass was followed by a dinner party, at which hundreds of dignitaries, clergy members, and friends came together to celebrate the OLV Basilica and its saintly founder, Father Nelson Baker.
Today, the Basilica continues to draw close to 2,000 visitors every month. Pilgrims and well-wishers of all faiths from every state gather to offer prayers to Father Baker, enjoy a calm moment of reflection, or just to admire the breath-taking architecture. The future will no doubt hold even more promise, as Father Baker advances down the long Path to Sainthood. Beatification (the next step and the second of three in the process), would, in itself, cause attendance to jump, while canonization is expected to bring tens of thousands of visitors to Lackawanna and its wondrous shrine.
Simply stated, the OLV Basilica is what it is: a shrine of unparalleled beauty, a place for all to dream, hope and believe in. But it is also this: a gift offered by a humble servant to a provider of great things, the Blessed Mother. It is, and ever will be, a symbol of Father Baker's steadying faith and a dream that was very much worth dreaming.
«The most tangible of all visible mysteries - fire» – Leigh Hunt
Cabossa 2019. The traditional epiphanic fire is burning to seal the end of the past year and to welcome the new one, with the interpretation of the direction of the smoke. Aquileia (UD), Italy. © Michele Marcolin, 2019. K1ii + DFA 24-70
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At the beginning of the year bonfires are a popular tradition of the Italian Northeastern areas, consisting of burning large piles of wood and branches in the first days of January -usually on January 6, the day of the epiphany.
Given its widespread diffusion, there are many versions and denominations: in Friuli it is called 'pignarûl', in Bisiacaria 'seima', in Veneto 'panevìn' (from pan e vin "bread and wine", the poor food that is consumed during the event), pìroła-pàroła, vècia, fogherada, bubarata, in lower Friuli and in Aquileia, it is called 'Cabossa'.
Its origin is lost in time, but it certainly related to the cult of Beleno, the ancient proto-Celtic divinity of light and fire which was kept alive until the 6th century AD. It seems that this custom derives from purifying and propitiatory rites. which were widespread in pre-Christian times.
The Celts, for example, lit fires to ingratiate themselves with the divinity and burned a puppet representing the past and read in its fumes auspices for the future.
dedicated to my soulbrother :-)*
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Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them.
Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism: they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings. Things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet ~
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The vision of the center of this mandala beleaguered me in the same night when I completed Kabeirô – and I even was told its name: Worlds within Worlds.
Instantly, I sensed a profound aversion to both the image and the name, and for about one week, I refused to start with the work on the mosaic.
Then, one sleepless night, I had another vision which was very weird: before I saw anything, I had the sensation that my body was a tremendous, overdimensioned black sphere which had a very small white sphere in its midpoint; not till then, I saw the image of the black sphere, but somehow two-dimensional (onyl the small white sphere in the center was three-dimensional), but I knew that my body – more precisely: my whole self – and the image were one and the same, and that something with it was quite wrong.
Then, after some frightening minutes or hours (I really don't know), another image arose: a white sphere, much smaller than the black one, and with a small black sphere in its middle. This white sphere was outside of my body, I only could see but not sense it, and the feeling of something quite wrong got stronger, and very scary.
The third image which arose after another frightening minutes or hours, was exactly the same I already had seen after I had completed Kabeirô: Taigitu, the symbol of life itself as well as the symbol of the polarity which forms the basis of everything in this wonderful and appalling world.
Not until then, when Taigitu arose, I understood what was wrong with the first two images: the black and the white sphere were meant to compose ONE sphere: a complete whole INSIDE myself.
On the following day, I started working on the mosaic, for I was completely aware of the NECESSITY of creating it. I just had one wish: that I was allowed to find a second name for the mandala which was concordant with my longing for staying integrated in the world of Greek mythology.
I worked on the mosaic from sunrise to sunset, and late in the night, I finally got to know the name I could welcome from the bottom of my heart: Kybele.
Kybele (English: Cybele), the great God mother of the mountain Ida (Latin: Magna Mater), was a goddess who originally was deified in Phrygien, together with her lover Attis, and later also in ancient Greece and the Roman Empire. The cult of Kybele and Attis was – similar as the cult of Mithras – a widespread mystery cult up to the Late Classic Period. The whole legend concerns apparently the gender dualism; it explains the origin of the world by an interaction of the male and the female element of the universe: the heavenly Attis must inseminate the mother earth Kybele with its blood so that the world can arise.
The mandala is not yet completed; I suppose that it's going to be quite huge and that I'll work on it for a couple of weeks, but I don't know definitely... – well, we will see. ;-)
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As the "Autumn Equinox" passes and there is a tangible feeling of change in the air it is the time of the year to decant to the woods to wonder at natures little gems.......
Explore #101 | large on black
I wanted to take a little break from my farmer's market flower series to show another dead dragonfly pic.
This one I really love ... the selective focus on the wing with the extreme bokeh of the body and head behind. I think it has a really magical quality and a very intriguing blend of abstract and tangible.
Although not the most valuable object that I own, this is one of my most precious pieces. This is my Great Grandmother’s small Anglo-Indian jewellery box, which she brought back from India after she and my Grandfather finished a period in the diplomatic corps during the Raj just before the Great War. It is precious to me because it holds some of the most tangible memories I have of my Great Grandmother and my Grandmother. This sat on my Great Grandmother’s dressing table and housed some of her everyday jewellery. I remember visiting her and watching her take out her pearls and cameos and glittering rings when she was getting ready to receive visitors or to go out. Even when I hold it now or hear the rich sounds of the box lid as it closes, in my mind I can still smell her violet and lily of the valley perfumes and her cold cream. When she died, my Grandmother inherited it and it sat on her dressing table. When I hold it, I can hear her laugh as I played with the pearl necklaces, earrings and rings that she kept in there, including the Regency ebony and ivory earrings I called “Flora” and “Fauna”. The yellowing of the ivory is a sign of its advanced age, and its edges have been worn by many hands touching them over the last century: not least of all mine.
The theme for Smile on Saturday for the 15th of May is “full of memories”. The challenge was to search for something that brings back a certain memory, take a picture of it and share what memories it brings back for you. I have inherited so many items from my Grandparent’s estates that hold great sentimental value for me. The hard part for me about this challenge, was choosing one object out of the many. As I have used my Grandfather’s chess set several times before for other challenges in this group, I settled upon this beloved little jewellery box, which is full of memories.
The jewellery box itself is an Anglo-Indian (Indian made but designed for the British market who lived in India during the Raj) made in the 1890s. It is fashioned from ebony and rosewood with the most exquisite hand-made geometric marquetry inlay of ivory and mother of pearl. The detail photos show how intricate the geometric pattern is, and how perfectly each piece is fitted. This might impress you even more when you think that the box itself is ten and a half centimetres long, by six and half centimetres wide and four and a half centimetres deep. The ebony frames to the hexagons on the lid are one millimetre thick, the vertical rosewood bands on the ivory edge of the lid are half a millimetre in width, the smallest triangles on the sides each have sides of one millimetre in length and the triangles around the flowers on the lid have sides less than half a millimetre in length: and all of this was made with precision by hand by a master artisan more than a century ago.
Dios no lo sabe, pero yo estoy triste
como los viejos pozos en la tarde;
triste como el portón de la herrería
que hace cien años que no ha abierto nadie.
José Ángel Buesa.
The State Theatre (known as Empire Theatre until 1959) was opened in 1952. This significant example of Post-War Modern Movement architecture had been assessed by Docomomo International as a structure worth preserving due to its importance as a piece of tangible heritage in the North Point region as well as its unique physical construction.
A couple of years ago in 2014, there were concerns among conservationists and North Point residents due to the threat of its demolition in order to redevelop its lot as two high-rise commercial towers. Hence in 2016, the guided-tour agency Walk-In Hong Kong launched a Conservation Advocacy Campaign titled “Save our State” and successfully lobbied the Antiquities and Advisory Board to upgrade its heritage grading status from Grade Three to a Grade One. Recognizing State Theatre’s cultural significance to Hong Kong, New World Development Limited acquired 95% of the complex as its first conservation project.
Update: This article was published in 2014 due to concerns among conservationists and North Point residents due to the threat of its demolition before the official grading by the Antiquities Advisory Board (AAB). Hence in 2016, the guided-tour agency Walk-In Hong Kong launched a Conservation Advocacy Campaign titled “Save our State” and successfully lobbied the AAB to upgrade its heritage grading status from Grade Three to a Grade One. Recognizing State Theatre’s historical and cultural significance to Hong Kong, New World Development Limited acquired 95% of the complex as its first conservation project.
(Under Threat: State Theatre in Hong Kong (updated) | Docomomo Hong Kong)
Bridges are the most tangible and often awesome image of connection, like the synapses in the brain. It is where, through enormous collective effort and abundant ingenuity a gap is overcome and people, goods and ideas start flowing. A triumph of the city!
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A composite image.
Detail of a painting by Vincent van Gogh : "Cypresses with two figures" . Created in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in 1890 , the year of his death . Seen and admired in the Kröller-Müller Museum in the Netherlands .
For "Smile on Saturday" ; theme : "part of artpiece".
This is Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre, Italy. This is the first village of five in a little cluster on the west coast of Italy. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I had never been in a place like this. The water (the Mediterranean) was so blue it looked like someone had dumped a whole vat of blue koolaid in it. And it shimmered constantly. The houses were nestled into the hillside like they'd always been there. They were lovely bright colors and looked like jewels sparkling in the incredibly bright Mediterranean sun. I wish pictures could do it justice.