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We have never understood why men mount the heads of animals and hang them up to look down on their conquerors. Possibly it feels good to these men to be superior to animals, but it does seem that if they were sure of it they would not have to prove it. Often a man who is afraid must constantly demonstrate his courage and, in the case of the hunter, must keep a tangible record of his courage. For ourselves, we have had mounted in a small hardwood plaque one perfect borrego [bighorn sheep] dropping. And where another man can say, "There was an animal, but because I am greater than he, he is dead and I am alive, and there is his head to prove it," we can say, "There was an animal, and for all we know there still is and here is proof of it. He was very healthy when we last heard of him.
John Steinbeck
While walking along the Thames in London, I saw some steps descending to the foreshore, and found this interesting place, with the remains of old wooden piers, right opposite Shakespeare's Globe theatre. The woman in the picture was walking along looking closely at the ground and we got talking. "Are you a mud lark?" She asked me.
I was thrilled! - I knew that mudlarking was an old Victorian pursuit, in which people (usually poor) searched along the Thames shore looking for things of value washed up that they could sell. The tradition continues to this day, though more in search of old curiousities rather than things of monetary value. The woman showed me some of her "treasure", amongst which was a tiny little bone dice - it was definitely old, maybe it had been used in Shakespeare's time!. The whole shore was scattered with thousands of stems from old clay pipes (maybe they were old, maybe not), and it felt such a tangible connection with London's rich history, and a sharp contrast with the hyper-modern Shard building looming in the background.
I am moving this to the front of the line because history does repeat itself.
the fires that were burning in the fall in NorCal have been stopped.
SoCal is taking a beating now. the winds reached 100mph.
nothing's changed.
s.
##########
this photo and the comments below were posted on November 23, 2007.
nothing has changed except you can add Northern California to this.
the winds in SoCal have reached 80mph.
11/23/07
I was watching Malibu burn live on tv today ("news at 11"), horrified at the incredible destructive visual beauty of wildfires. Interested also because my son had to fight in the last SoCal fires and, finally, I was relieved when I heard that he didn't have to go down this time. Watching the fires "live" is like watching the war "live". I don't want to get desensitized to destruction, so I was ruminating over what "stuff" I would take if I had to choose. I realized that the material textures of my life are things that are worth nothing monetarily.....gifts from loved ones, pieces from family members long passed, things i picked up here and there, all "stuff" I couldn't choose over the practical---my computer HD and photo albums and "important" documents. The things left behind all would be irreplaceable....the silly pieces of paper and plaster and pottery and dried vegetation.
This is what must hurt most for people who lose homes--the concrete evidence of memories.
I will hope for better times when we can fight fires, and earthquakes, and tornadoes and not wars and where people will never lose the tangible evidence, the "silly" things that mark that we were here.
My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Southern California this fire season.
shot for The Tangible Project
this one goes to mr. pablowish
come join us for some polaroid exchange fun!
I love trees, I love vines... I really really love trees covered in vines ;-)
this tree is actually on the edge of a main road, on the way to my son's school. I've been past that tree, on and off, for the last few years but it's not till i've started looking at things in a more creative light, that i've seen it.... really seen it. thankyou photography!!!
Lay down your thoughts for a moment and breathe.
(+2 in comments)
I can't remember the last time I got a real letter in the mail. For the past couple years it's all been college adds and the like spamming my dusty mailbox. But today, I received the most wonderful letter. There's something about ink on a page, the musty smell of paper having traveled over seas. Something tangible and honest.
My new favorite thing is walking to the post office.
(Destin Sparks)
Richard photographing on the National Tourist Route Aurlandsfjellet last year.
Tomorrow we'll go on a new photography road trip in Hardanger and Sogn og Fjordane. Look forward to see those beautiful places covered in autumn colours ツ
My album of photographers in action here.
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Flambeau--A burning torch, especially one carried in procession. This was shot from a temple procession, in which the devotees carry the flambeau right in front of the procession followed by ornamented elephants carrying the God or Goddess.
Serle: Recuerdos Tangibles
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJrrIIqVygg
pic for The Tangible Project, theme "Ghosts of the past":
www.flickr.com/groups/thetangibleproject/discuss/72157625...
this will go to: www.flickr.com/photos/kristinrandall/
I am guilty of failing to print out many of my photos. I find all the choices of what to print and how to print them a bit overwhelming I'm afraid. I do often print out some pictures at home to make cards with and this usually involves printing the same photo a few times to get it just right. I get to keep the extras:)
This photo was taken at night under a table lamp with the 50mm lens. I used Kim's lightroom preset summersun on it after auto tune and liked the results.
12 foto piuttosto libere e disordinate dalla cittadina umbra di Foligno, piccolo centro che conta circa 50000 abitanti, che sono tanti per l'Umbria, con la sua bassa densità demografica. A Foligno San Francesco si spogliò dei suoi beni terreni e cominciò la vita religiosa. "Proprio nella piazza grande di Foligno infatti, intorno all’anno 1205, il poverello di Assisi intraprese tangibilmente la sua strada verso la rinuncia ai beni terreni, abbandonando le uniche cose di cui era rimasto in possesso: si spogliò letteralmente dei suoi panni, e li mise in vendita insieme al suo cavallo, per fare ritorno a casa a piedi, e coperto di stracci." Fra le 12 foto c'è anche il monumento che ricorda questo evento, se cercate bene lo trovate, preso un po' alla lontana. Per il resto, gente che va in bici (molte biciclette a Foligno), che prende il caffè, e qualche scorcio di chiesa o di devozione popolare. Buona visione.
12 rather free and messy photos from the Umbrian town of Foligno, a small town that has about 50,000 inhabitants, which are many for Umbria, with its low population density. In Foligno, San Francesco stripped himself of his earthly possessions and began the religious life. "In fact, precisely in the large square of Foligno, around the year 1205, the poor man of Assisi tangibly embarked on his way towards the renunciation of earthly goods, abandoning the only things he had remained in possession: he literally took off his clothes, and he put them up for sale with his horse, to walk home, and covered in rags. " Among the 12 photos there is also the monument that remembers this event, if you look carefully you can find it, taken a little distantly. For the rest, people who go by bike (many bicycles in Foligno), who have coffee, and some glimpses of church or popular devotion. Good vision.
This small church on the Onuku Maori reserve near Akaroa is the only tangible reminder of the once thriving Maori community. Completed in 1878 the church was planned to accommodate sixty people and though primarily for the Maori local, Pakeha settlers were also welcome.
A plain timber building with steeply pitched shingle roof its religious purpose is denoted by the tiny bell turret and surmounting crosses. It is picturesquely set in the bay on Akaroa Harbour and is enclosed by a delightfully unregimented picket fence. (heritage.org.nz)
Digital prints on metallic paper: original photos from he Department of Anthropology, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian institution, series of 70
[In]tangible Tangles (2021) is a series of found images of moccasins from the archives of the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History’s anthropology department. The series began from pandemic scrolling through various museums’ archives, but these specific images grabbed her attention because the shoes are displayed with their soles facing the camera, instead of at an angle to show as much of the shoe as possible. “You really having this feeling there are bodies in them, like they’re lying down,” Myre said.
In addition to the visible wear and tear on the soles, the shoes are also photographed with tags stating their acquisition number and tribal affiliations. Some were acquired as early as the 1860s, while others are newer, having entered the museum’s holdings only a few decades ago. What the photographs don’t show is under what circumstances they were acquired. Many are shoes for children, reminding Myre of residential schools in both the US and Canada, which separated Indigenous children from their parents in order to assimilate them into the culture of their colonizers and have them forgot their cultural traditions and languages. Often, the children were routinely abused; many were killed there.
"Passage de l'intangible au tangible, l'équinoxe de printemps célèbre partout la naissance et la vie qui se déploie. C'est le temps de l'innocence, de l'éveil aux choses du dedans et du dehors. […]"
Cit. Laurence E. Fritsch
°.•✿•.° °.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°°.•✿•.°
Je l'attendais, il est là…le printemps!
… Ma saison favorite malgré le rhume des foins qui va bientôt venir me chatouiller les narines et rougir mes yeux…ce n'est pas grave; je lui pardonne volontiers ses facéties et lui souhaite la Bienvenue! ツ
Ps.: dans quelques jours, il faudra penser à avancer les aiguilles de vos montres
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(I speak french, italian and a little bit of english).
I've been split into two identical beings. One tangible but trapped in the past. The other intangible, in the "present", but unaware of my continued fight against alien invasion.
I have until October 31, 1929, to discover the loophole that the invaders from 1,000 years in the future, may have slipped past the heroic android Trent on October 17, 1964.
Although he saved the physical being of humanity imprinted into his hand, it may be a humanity that the invaders have parasitically merged itself to in 1929, unbeknownst to Trent or his creators.
The process that has split me into two selves, has rid me of the contamination, here in 1929.
I hope I have arrived before the Merger. I'll do everything possible to stop this part of the invasion.
If I succeed, then Trent and Humanity live on, and my two selves re-integrated, remembering both timelines.
If I fail...if I...fail...
Breaking a tangible country peace at Drogosze is loco Ty42 69 drifting in upon 07.04 Skandawa-Korsze passenger.
One of Korsze's branches in idyllic Mazuria, Skandawa lies close to the border with the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad, route distance some 15km.
Historically this is part of an important mainline route, once Table136 (Berlin-Posen) - Thorn - Deutsch Eylau - Insterburg (Russian Chernyakhousk).
The route may currently convey some international freight traffic.
29th April 1991
Reload - improved reproduction
The most tangible of all visible mysteries - fire.
Yes, this is one of those trophy shots! My first visit here. The red glow in the sky, is due to both the light and also my Singh Ray ND Grad which leaves a reddish cast behind ;)
The Horseshoe bend is the scariest drop I've seen in a long time! :)
By Erik. Paisley, Oregon seems like the type of town that would be fun to walk up and down every street because of stuff like this.
Immersing myself in the veiled mysteries of the Serra do Corvo Branco, the largest rock-cut in Brazil nestled in Serra Catarinense, I found a world beyond the tangible. The fog enveloped everything, casting a spell of mystique over the landscape. Towering trees stood shrouded in mist, their enormity humbled. The vegetation came alive, every leaf and twig adorned with dew drops like glittering ornaments. Pines bore the weight of the water, their resilience echoing in the silence.
Vehicles appeared like phantom ships drifting down the foggy slopes, dwarfed by the majesty of the Serra. Small figures wandered, engulfed in the ethereal landscape – their insignificance amidst nature's grandeur was a lovely sight. Amid them, a woman, a fellow photographer, seeking to capture the elusive beauty of this world, just as I was.
The scene before my eyes was a testament to nature's unending surprises. The fog would surrender to the snow the next day, but I couldn't witness that transformation. What I did capture, however, were these fleeting moments before the snowfall, the calm before the storm.
This was one of Brazil's coldest days, but the chill in the air did not dampen my spirits. Instead, it amplified the experience, etching it in my memory. I hope these photographs do justice to that unforgettable day at Serra do Corvo Branco – a day that will always resonate in my heart.
The tangible melancholy of this scene seemed to match my mood at the time, so it seemed only apt that I hauled out the tripod from the car & made what I could of it.
If you are ever on Mull, driving north-west through Salen towards Tobermory, then you can't fail to spot this sad picture. Just yards from the road, it also has a handy lay-by from which to ponder the inevitable demise of all things.
Poem.
Glorious autumn colours
magnified, energised, strengthened
by a setting sun.
Glassy, mirror-like stillness of island-studded Loch a’ Mheadhoin.
Breathless.
Motionless.
Silent……
but for the occasional fish jumping for insects.
Trees in symmetry in an almost perfect reflection
of this exquisite, lustrous, sumptuous scene.
Affric is always magical.
Here, now, perfection is
so, so close……it is tangible,
hypnotic and mesmerising.
I am so thrilled to see that so longed for GRAIN effect in nearly every edited photo today, is not necessary in this series of photos...
Contrary, it is sometimes a necessity to REDUCE NOISE rather than adding it.
With this photo (and this series) I 'danced' between leaving or taking away the grain, depending on the photo.
Every one of these photos mean something to me. It reminds me of the time I have spent in this sanctuary, where the majority of this film was shot... I can remember every positioning, trying to think what could be the best possible shot...
As this was my first film, I wanted to use my film the most optimal way, with minimum of bad photos. But I wouldn't panic about it. Or degrade myself if I fail. No! My intentions with film photography were (and are) not recognizable or tangible to my mind... But I know what I feel when I'm doing it. Pure joy. Contentment. Isn't that the most essential here?
THIS PHOTO...
also depicts 2PM-ish period (nearly same time as the previous photo in CHAPEL... we had a lunch break so I was able to take these photos carefully)...
Again, playing with the shadows and light... I must admit I think I did some arrangements of the grille to get the best looking look.. I hope you don't mind :)
You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I, you can never be --
I had a mother who read to me.
- Strickland Gillilan (1869-1954)
Nutro – Нутро - means the guts or the insides, something that governs your inner being, that can be crude and raw and towards the outside, but also something that you feel inside. It’s your core and your being connected to your physical being in a very tangible way.
Immersing myself in the veiled mysteries of the Serra do Corvo Branco, the largest rock-cut in Brazil nestled in Serra Catarinense, I found a world beyond the tangible. The fog enveloped everything, casting a spell of mystique over the landscape. Towering trees stood shrouded in mist, their enormity humbled. The vegetation came alive, every leaf and twig adorned with dew drops like glittering ornaments. Pines bore the weight of the water, their resilience echoing in the silence.
Vehicles appeared like phantom ships drifting down the foggy slopes, dwarfed by the majesty of the Serra. Small figures wandered, engulfed in the ethereal landscape – their insignificance amidst nature's grandeur was a lovely sight. Amid them, a woman, a fellow photographer, seeking to capture the elusive beauty of this world, just as I was.
The scene before my eyes was a testament to nature's unending surprises. The fog would surrender to the snow the next day, but I couldn't witness that transformation. What I did capture, however, were these fleeting moments before the snowfall, the calm before the storm.
This was one of Brazil's coldest days, but the chill in the air did not dampen my spirits. Instead, it amplified the experience, etching it in my memory. I hope these photographs do justice to that unforgettable day at Serra do Corvo Branco – a day that will always resonate in my heart.