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- “Do not touch me…”
Gospel of John, chapter 20, verse 17 (John 20, 17)
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I was with you, Father,
at the moment of creation.
I could not fail to know the elements and master them.
What would it be to
lift the stone of a tomb
compared to your will as Creator?
You taught me how the world is composed
and made me your son,
but I was a participant
in creation.
The followers who followed me
believed in You and in me,
Your son.
They will be happy to see me rise again,
but I will weep
for those still chained
in hell,
and my hands
will silence their strident cries.
Poor souls,
who migrate toward nothingness.
The fear,
God,
of these blind depths,
of these people who have not had
the splendor of your reins.
Because you do not know,
Father,
what it means
to sit at Your right hand
as a king.
A gentle but not cowardly king
who mediates
between your divine wrath
and the lust and unbelief of man.
I,
who am just,
love man
and ask your forgiveness
through this slow agony
that has lasted for centuries
for the world.
Behold, Lord, I give you back my spirit
in the form of a white dove
that will fly toward heaven.
And no other way
have you built peace
than with the groins of a bird
that brings the olive branch to your lips.
Father,
I will rise again,
and I will sit at your right hand.
POEM OF THE CROSS - Alda Merini
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- “Noli me tangere …”
Vangelo di Giovanni, capitolo 20, versetto 17 (Giovanni 20, 17)
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- Ero con te, Padre,
al momento della creazione.
Non potevo non conoscere gli elementi e dominarli.
Cosa vuoi che sia
sollevare la pietra di un sepolcro
in confronto alla tua volontà di Creatore.
Tu mi hai insegnato come è composto il mondo
e mi hai reso figlio,
ma ero partecipe
della creazione.
I seguaci che mi hanno seguito
hanno creduto in Te e in me,
Tuo figlio.
Saranno felici di vedermi risorgere,
ma io piangerò
per quelli che sono ancora incatenati
nell'inferno
e le mie mani
faranno tacere i loro stridori.
Povere anime,
che migrano verso il nulla.
Lo spavento,
Dio,
di queste profondità cieche,
di questa gente che non ha avuto
lo splendore delle tue redini.
Perché tu non sai,
Padre,
cosa vuol dire
sedere alla Tua destra
in veste di re.
Un re mite ma non codardo
che fa da intermediario
tra la tua collera divina
e la lussuria e la miscredenza dell'uomo.
Io,
che sono giusto,
amo l'uomo
e ti chiedo perdono
attraverso questa lenta agonia
che dura da secoli
per il mondo.
Ecco, Signore, io ti rendo il mio spirito
in forma di bianca colomba
che volerà verso il cielo.
E non altrimenti
Tu hai costruito la pace
se non con gli inguini di un uccello
che porta l'ulivo alle tue labbra.
Padre,
io risorgerò,
e siederò alla Tua destra.
POEMA DELLA CROCE - Alda Merini
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This photographic story, with text, which I propose as my last work for Flickr in 2025 (2026 is now just a few minutes away), tells of the procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli, which took place in March of this year 2025 in the town of San Marco d'Alunzio (in the province of Messina). The procession normally begins on the morning of the last Friday of March each year, but there is an exception to this rule: when it coincides with Good Friday, then the procession is brought forward to the previous Friday. The procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli is an ancient penitential rite. On the feast day of the Crucifix, Holy Mass is celebrated in the Church of Aracoeli in San Marco d'Alunzio. On this occasion, the Holy Crucifix is celebrated. Crucifix (which is located in the church at the end of the right nave, at its feet is the painting of the Virgin of Sorrows pierced by seven swords), Christ on the Cross is removed by the devotees from the hook on which it is hanging, is carried outside the church, here it is raised and fixed on the float, the sermon of the priest who has climbed onto the float next to the Crucifix takes over, under the Cross is fixed the painting of His Sorrowful Mother, then they are carried in procession by the men (and women) in blue hoods called "babbaluti", they proceed invoking the pity and mercy of the Lord with a constant and rhythmic lament, saying "Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!"; this is the norm, but this year the bad weather has brought some changes, the float on which they hoisted the SS. The crucifix with the kneeling babbaluti was not located in the churchyard, but inside the church. Christ was covered with a large sheet of cellophane to protect it from the rain, while the painting of the Madonna with swords in her heart was placed at her Son's feet only after the procession returned to the church. San Marco d'Alunzio is a charming town in the Messina area, located in the Nebrodi Mountains of Sicily. The procession takes place in honor of the Holy Crucifix of Araceli. This religious-penitential event is also known as the "procession of the babbaluti." These are those who, by vow or grace received, have chosen to carry the fercolo containing the crucifix and the painting on their shoulders in procession. they head to the nearby Church of Santa Maria dei Poveri or to some private home nearby where, sheltered from the curiosity of the faithful, they wear a simple but characteristic indigo-colored cloth habit, consisting of a tunic and a conical hood that covers the entire body and leaves only the eyes and hands free. It is not uncommon, however, for the penitents, rendered anonymous by the habit they wear, to also include women, who, to avoid any possibility of recognition, wear a pair of gloves; The babbaluti are 33 in number to commemorate the 33 years of Christ. The number is odd, in fact the 33rd babbaluto does not carry the vara. He (should be the “capo vara”) proceeds backwards, looking towards Christ and his Mother, and at the same time checks that everything is in order among the babbaluti, guiding the vara along the path, even if it is moving backwards (this is a way of proceeding in carrying the vara or fercolo, present in various Sicilian religious processions). So, the 32 (+1) "babbaluti" carry on their shoulders the float that bears the Holy Crucifix of the Araceli church (the statue of Christ was created by Scipione Li Volsi, in the year 1652, he was a sculptor and plasterer of the Sicilian Baroque), at whose feet, on the float, is tied the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows, whose chest appears pierced by seven swords (it is an 18th century painting), however, as already described, this year the painting, to protect it from the rain, was placed on the float only upon the return of the procession to the church. Before the procession begins, the babbaluti advance barefoot, wearing only heavy, hand-knitted stockings of raw wool. Before entering the church, they must walk a path of purification. When they approach the ancient church of Araceli, they bow and kiss the ground, thus receiving permission to enter the church. This, however, occurs through a side door, called the "false door" (in Sicilian dialect, "porta fausa"). Having entered the church from the side, they now exit through the main entrance, allowing them to take their places, kneeling in front and behind the float. To enter the "porta fausa," the babbaluti proceed in pairs, with the last babbaluti, the eldest, proceeding alone. After the priest's long-awaited speech, the procession can begin, winding through the streets of the picturesque and welcoming village of San Marco d'Alunzio. Along the way, the Babbaluti pace their steps, accompanying the mournful and plaintive jugular vein that invokes the Lord. Devout men and women walk alongside the Babbaluti, walking alongside the float, touching it, sometimes caressing it... just to have physical (and spiritual) contact with it. Finally, after completing a specific route, the procession returns to the ancient church (of Norman origins) of Aracoeli. Every time I attend this touching event, I am completely overwhelmed by emotion (which, however, I cannot abandon, lest I lose concentration while taking photos). The highlight is when the crucified Christ is removed from the hook fixed to the wall by expert men, and then carried (it seems to float) above the heads of the devotees, supported aloft with their hands, and hoisted and secured to the float. In these moments of intense emotion, it is common to see in the eyes of the devotees, shining with tears, that profound emotion of their relationship with this Christ, which has lasted forever: it is as if they were in the presence of the true Christ, in flesh and blood. This is the atmosphere experienced in those moments, this is the magic of the procession of the Most Holy Crucifix and His Mother, represented by the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows pierced by seven swords (an iconography of Spanish origin).
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Il presente racconto fotografico, con testo, che propongo come ultimo mio lavoro per Flickr dell’anno 2025 (oramai mancano pochi minuti al 2026) parla della processione del Santissimo Crocifisso di Aracoeli che si è tenuto nel marzo di quest’anno 2025 nel paese di San Marco d’Alunzio (in provincia di Messina). La processione normalmente inizia la mattina dell’ultimo venerdì del mese di marzo di ogni anno, c’è però una eccezione a questa regola, quando si realizza la coincidenza col Venerdì Santo, allora la processione viene anticipata al venerdì precedente. Quella del SS.Crocifisso di Aracoeli è un antico rito penitenziale, il giorno della festa del Crocifisso, a San Marco d'Alunzio si celebra la S. Messa nella Chiesa dell'Aracoeli, in questa occasione il SS. Crocifisso (che si trova nella chiesa in fondo alla navata di destra, ai suoi piedi è posto il quadro della Vergine Addolorata trafitta da sette spade), il Cristo sulla Croce viene tolto dai devoti dal gancio sul quale è appeso, viene portato all’esterno della chiesa, qui viene innalzato e fissato sulla vara, subentra il sermone del sacerdote salito sulla vara accanto al Crocifisso, sotto alla Croce viene fissato il quadro di sua Madre Addolorata, quindi vengono portati in processione dagli uomini (e donne) incappucciati di colore blu detti “babbaluti”, essi procedono invocando la pietà e la misericordia del Signore con un costante e ritmato lamento, dicendo “Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!”; questa è la norma, ma quest’anno il cattivo tempo ha portato qualche cambiamento, la vara sulla quale hanno issato il SS. Crocifisso con i babbaluti messi in ginocchio, non si trovava sul sagrato davanti la chiesa, ma era dentro la chiesa, il Cristo veniva ricoperto con un ampio foglio di cellophane per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, mentre il quadro della Madonna con le spade nel cuore, è stato messo ai piedi di Suo Figlio solo al rientro della processione nella chiesa. San Marco d’Alunzio è un ameno paese del territorio Messinese, sito sui monti Nebrodi, in Sicilia; la processione si svolge proprio in onore del Santissimo Crocifisso di Araceli, è questa una ricorrenza religioso-penitenziale conosciuta anche come "processione dei babbaluti", essi sono coloro che per voto o per grazia ricevuta, hanno deciso di portare in processione sulle loro spalle il fercolo con il Crocifisso ed il quadro; essi si dirigono nella vicina Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Poveri o in qualche abitazione privata lì vicino dove, al riparo dalla curiosità dei fedeli, indossano un semplice ma caratteristico saio di tela di colore indaco, costituito da una tunica e un cappuccio di forma conica tale da coprire l'intero corpo e lasciare liberi solo gli occhi e le mani, non è raro purtuttavia che tra i penitenti, resi anonimi dal saio che indossano, vi siano anche delle donne, le quali per evitare qualsiasi possibilità di riconoscimento, indossano un paio di guanti; i babbaluti sono in numero di 33 per rievocare i 33 anni di Cristo, il numero è dispari, infatti il 33° babbaluto non porta la vara, egli (dovrebbe essere il “capo vara”) procede all’indietro, rivolgendo lo sguardo al Cristo ed a sua Madre, e nel contempo controlla che tutto sia in ordine tra i babbaluti, guidando la vara lungo il percorso, anche se il suo andamento è a ritroso, (questo è un modo di procedere nel portare la vara o fercolo, presente in diverse processioni religiose siciliane). Quindi, i 32 (+1) "babbaluti" portano sulle loro spalle la vara che reca il Santo Crocifisso della chiesa dell’Araceli (la statua del Cristo è stata creata da Scipione Li Volsi, nell'anno 1652, egli fu uno scultore e stuccatore del barocco SIciliano), ai cui piedi, sulla vara, viene legato il quadro della Madonna Addolorata, il cui petto appare trafitto da sette spade ( è un dipinto del XVIII secolo), purtuttavia come già descritto, quest’anno il quadro, per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, è stato messo sulla vara solo al rientro della processione in chiesa. I babbaluti prima dell'inizio della processione avanzano a piedi scalzi indossando solo delle pesanti calze di lana grezza realizzate a mano, devono percorrere, prima di entrare in chiesa, un cammino di purificazione: quando essi giungono in prossimità dell'antica chiesa dell'Araceli, essi si chinano e baciano in terra, ricevendo in tal modo il permesso per poter accedere dentro la chiesa, questo però avviene da una porta laterale, chiamata "falsa porta" (In dialetto siciliano “porta fausa”), una volta entrati in chiesa lateralmente, ora fuoriescono dall'ingresso principale, potendo così prendere posto, inginocchiandosi sul davanti ed alle spalle, della vara; i babbaluti per accedere alla “porta fausa” procedono in coppia, l’ultimo babbaluto procede da solo, lui è il più anziano tra i babbaluti; seguirà l'atteso discorso del sacerdote, terminato, potrà iniziare la processione che si svolge per le vie del pittoresco ed accogliente paese di San Marco d'Alunzio. Lungo il percorso i Babbaluti cadenzano la propria andatura accompagnandosi alla mesta e lamentosa giugulatoria che invoca il Signore . Ci sono uomini e donne devoti che procedono assieme ai babbaluti camminando a lato della vara, toccandola, ora accarezzandola...pur di avere un contatto fisico (e di rimando spirituale) con essa. Infine, dopo aver compiuto un preciso percorso, la processione fa rientro nell'antica chiesa (di origini Normanne) dell'Aracoeli. Ogniqualvolta sono presente a questa toccante ricorrenza sono completamente inondato da emozioni (alle quali però non posso abbandonarmi, perderei la concentrazione nel realizzare le foto), il momento clou è quando il Cristo Crocifisso viene tolto dal gancio fissato sul muro da uomini esperti, per poi essere portato (sembra galleggiare) sopra la testa dei devoti, sostenuto in alto con le mani, ed essere issato e fissato sulla vara; in questi momenti di intensa emozione è comune vedere negli occhi dei devoti, lucidi di lacrime, quella emozione profonda del loro rapporto con questo Cristo, che dura da sempre: è come se si trovassero al cospetto del Cristo vero, in carne ed ossa, questa è l’atmosfera che si vive in quei momenti, questa è la magia della processione del SS. Crocifisso e di Sua Madre, rappresentata dal quadro dell’Addolorata trafitta da sette spade (iconografia di origine spagnola).
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The last photo from beautiful BA. Time to board the Zaandam
"We, the Outsiders"(Nosotros Afuera) was created by self-taught Argentinean artist Federico Manuel Peralta Ramos in 1965, is a gigantic egg sculpture shown only once before it was destroyed by the artist.
This giant egg is a reproduction of the one Federico Peralta Ramos won the Di Tella Prize for in 1965. Peralta Ramos was an eccentric character, an Argentinean artist of his own avant-garde in the 60's.
Peralta called it " We Outside " a giant egg that inverts our understanding of what is inside and what is outside of consciousness and creation that marks more a beginning than an end.
The sculpture sits In the front of Art-Deco Kavannah Building, in Recoleta Barrio in the square where Florida, San Martín and Ricardo Rojas streets meet across from Plaza General San Martin (in the background).
ABOUT THE SCULPTURE:
Very little documentation remains of the piece Peralta Ramos created as his contribution to the final Instituto Torcuato di Tella show in 1965.
The few black-and-white photographs that exist show the large egg alone with its maker on a thin plinth on the gallery floor.
There are some dark areas in the plaster; the piece was not entirely dry at the time of the show.
Surviving friends who saw the piece recall that the work was made in such a hurry that it broke immediately after the jury declared it the winner of that year’s Di Tella Art Prize.
A relative of Peralta Ramos similarly remembers that the artist miscalculated the tension between the metal structure and the plaster skin, and the piece imploded immediately after the award ceremony.
Yet there is also a picture that shows Peralta Ramos destroying the piece himself.
Either way, the work was too large to be moved as it was made inside the gallery space, and was always fated for destruction.
...
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage!
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know
(Damien Rice, _Cannonball_)
Als die alte Mutter mich noch lehrte singen,
Tränen in den Wimpern gar so oft ihr hingen.
Jetzt, wo ich die Kleinen selber üb’ im Sange,
rieselt’s in den Bart oft, rieselt’s von der braunen Wange.
I taught
my arms
to stop
reaching for you.
my eyes
to stop
searching for you.
my lips
to stop speaking
your name.
but, my heart-
oh
my heart.
***
I know what you're thinking- how Anne Geddes of me! Hehe unintentional! I wanted to save this one for Valentines Day but several of my other images got messed up so I am putting this one up to keep the stream 'flowing'. I'm so excited that I'm heading to LA in a few weeks and I'll finally be able to get some outdoor shots. I've been contemplating a move there for a while now, so I'm really looking forward to seeing what it's like. Before and after up on my blog!
Actually, most of the time this is not the scene! They usually fight over the feeder so it was sweet to see these two cooperating with each other! I don't think the birds thought it was too cute though :-)!
I taught a giant toffee apple cake class this past Sunday. With Halloween soo close I thought it would be fun to make this cake in class. Everyone had a super, amazing time.....one of my favorite classes for shezzy!!
Happy Halloween!!!
Harper taught me a little trick here to get this shot. The Anachron cigarette holder is animated, but it doesn't have you holding it in your mouth long enough to show you blowing smoke. But there are ways to do this....
If you don't know how, find out how at Around the Grid.
Make sure to take a look at Harper Ganesvoort's 2016 "formal."
Kurt Arrigo is a self-taught photographer from Malta. He has 20 years experience and has published two coffee table books, Malta: A Coastal Journey and Grand Harbour Malta. His work has also been featured in a number of major interational magazines. In 1995, he was awarded third place in the Underwater World Championships of Photography and two years later was included in the Communications Arts Photography Annual.
Story Behind:
My excitement mounted as I prepared my diving equipment and assembled my Nikon with its underwater housing. About a week before, I had been driving by the coast near where I live and I spotted horses swimming in the waves. Apparently, this is a special exercise for these race horses. Intrigued by the thought of a new challenge, I spoke to one of the trainers and arranged an appointment so I could take some pictures.
By the time I got to the beach, it was almost 4pm and the sun was getting lower in the sky – perfect for pictures I had in mind. I waited patiently on the shore until the trainer, who actually swims with the horses, was ready to cover all the details with me. He had a few concerns about stressing the horse, so we discussed safety precautions and I explained exactly what I inteded to do.
shrine 14-day of the dead: 4
mixed media on wood:acrylic paint, 3 clay figures, candles, wood birds, jewels, collaged paper
14" X 14" x 3"
jenniferbeinhacker.com
art outside the edge
TENNIS TAUGHT ME TO TAKE CHANCES, TO TAKE LIFE AS IT COMES. TO HIT EVER BALL THAT COMES TO ME NO MATTER HOW HARD IT LOOKS AND TO GIVE IT MY BEST SHOT.
BLOG CREDITS:
reignnoffashion.blogspot.com/2019/03/best-shot-posesion.html
"Manichaeism taught an elaborate cosmology describing the struggle between a good, spiritual world of light, and an evil, material world of darkness. Through an ongoing process which takes place in human history, light is gradually removed from the world of matter and returned to the world of light from which it came. Its beliefs were based on local Mesopotamian gnostic and religious movements."
"---By extension, the term "manichean" is widely applied (often disparagingly) as an adjective to a philosophy or attitude of moral dualism, according to which a moral course of action involves a clear (or simplistic) choice between good and evil, or as a noun to people who hold such a view."
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Taught to me yesterday by Michael. Folded from a square of Elephant Hide of 25 cm on the side.
You can check Michael's own video at: www.instagram.com/p/BBqV1GNxsm6/
Two lessons taught to me early in life.
Never give people power over your emotions that didn't deserve them.
And Never accept anything less that amazing. If it isn't amazing then it isn't worth it.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jakpo7tj7Qw
LOTD 12.6.22
Catarsis loyalty top - Khaki - Reborn
Catarsis Loyalty joggers - Khaki - Reborn.
Hairbase - Pandora - Lelutka Evo X - Studio Exposure
Ponytail - Unoerthodox - Gabby
Tattoo - Corazon - Mia - Light - BOM
life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
antoine de saint-exupery
I taught a night photography class recently and this is one of the still images I got from the class. I am working on a time-lapse movie this year to compile all of my night shoots from 2012 and 2013 into a fun video - this is one of the scenes from that video. Hope you enjoy!
I took a Hummingbird Photography class sponsored by Desert Botanical Garden and taught by Robert McBride. I learned a lot and practiced a lot. I really feel that I had improved significantly by the end of the class.
The class was in a classroom in the recently constructed addition. It has a private garden just outside the classroom that DBG set up with hummingbird feeders.
My best guess is a female or immature Anna's Hummingbird (Calypte anna). Any correction will be appreciated. I admit I don't really know the difference between a Anna's Hummingbird and a Broad-tailed Hummingbird.
www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Annas_Hummingbird/id
Desert Botanical Garden has an incredible collection of plants and cacti arranged in a beautiful park setting.
"Think the desert is all dirt and tumbleweeds? Think again. Desert Botanical Garden is home to thousands of species of cactus, trees and flowers from all around the world spread across 55 acres in Phoenix, Arizona."
Desert Botanical Garden
DBG Hummingbird class
83.365
We are taught to be strong, to not be overcome by out emotions. . .
but after a while our emotions flood through the cracks of our disguises.
Someone told me that I need to "let it out" every once and a while. . . which is difficult for me to do because my character tells me to do just the opposite. I hate not being in control of my feelings and often feel foolish when they get the best of me. However, I've experienced firsthand how bottling things up can cause an ultimate breakdown, and I must admit. . . sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is let go of that control.
Explore #246 !!!!!
I really love how photography has taught me how to find these surreal and slightly magical moments in life. I mean, ten years ago I would have walked by this scene, maybe with something tugging slightly at a part of me that was cognizant on some level of what I was passing, but I would have been largely unseeing. I might have noticed the tree and the light, but that would have been the extent of the depth of my perception and understanding.
Since then, photography has become not merely the practice of making photographs. It is not merely the ability to compose and focus and understand a camera. It is not the ability to create a photo that sells better. I do not know all of just what photography is, mind you, but I think I know enough by now to know what it isn't, and it isn't those things.
It isn't pictures, it isn't selling, it isn't just magic hour, or Photoshop actions. It isn't even the camera.
I am still learning what it is, even while I learn what it isn't. And I have learned that a part of it at least is being able to pass by a spot like this, where life is not quite as ordinary as it first seems. To take those ephemeral figments, as intangible as the thoughts in our heads, and to grab onto them. Photography is - at least partially - perception. It is a process and a philosophy and a way of walking and seeing and doing.
It just so happens that it produces photographs.
Having never gotten the Hydration station I was over the moon that this lagoona would have the same make-up but with the bonus of super long, straight hair. She & Cleo are rooted slightly sparse in the back but even so Lagoona has come out of nowhere and become my favorite of the 5, lip rub and all. I think it's because the way they've styled her reminds me so much of my baby cousins. They are also athletes and this look - straight hair (pressed, in their case), a tank dress, natural make-up and sneakers - reminds me so much of something I could very easily see them whering to school.
In 2019 I had the opportunity to direct a music video titled “Things my Father taught me.” By my friend Nate Parrish.
you taught me how to pray
you said that i will pay
you wanted me to stay
and i'm still blind to see
how you are playing with my fears
that you create my tears
but only after years
it's now i understand you only wanted my dreams
2020 has taught me that the path I take in life is the same as everyone else's but how I choose to walk along this path isn't the same. We all react in different ways to different situations, some make jokes about it others deny it. Overreaction is another reaction we saw in the last year.
Here in Australia we have had a hard 2020 with the bushfires and floods, we thought nothing else could go wrong but then came the Pandemic and lock down. All this has taught me that I can walk my path and handle most things with a clear and calm mind, it has taught me that life will always give us challenges. Don't avoid them, embrace them, walk through them and grow.
What do I wish for in 2021? There is too much to wish for but I will keep on my path and I wish everyone Happiness and Joy for the year ahead!
Leena Nio, a Finnish mosaic artist has made mosaics since 2004. She's mainly self-taught, color loving and passionately in love with mosaic art. She lived in Paris for 30 years and has been influenced by many many art exhibition and shows in Paris and around the world, especially by Aboriginal art and art naive, maybe a touch of impressionism and art nouveau.
2010 taught me what happiness is and friendship should be like
2011 left me hopelessly restless and longing for more
2012 ran past me but never let my hand go
Nikon F2
28mm f/2.8 AI
Kodak Portra 160
f/11 @ 16s
CPL
Home dev - Cinestill C41 kit
Home scan - Nikon Coolscan IV
VueScan & RawTherapee
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A fast moving and tumultuous stream, approximately 1km long.
I hadn't visited this location before, but I knew exactly what I wanted to practice. My notes tell me I tried 7 different compositions over the course of a couple of hours, capturing 14 images in total. I was experimenting with different shutter speeds as you'd expect, but mostly with the intention of learning about Portra's ability to handle massive overexposure. I really wanted to be using Ektar here, but Portra was already in the camera!
All in all it was quite a productive session. I learned a fair bit about metering for film, and on reviewing my shots I think I even taught myself a little bit about composition! I will be revisiting this location when the leaves change colour, and I'll probably be taking Ektar with me.
Cumulative 1% improvements amount to vast changes given time, and I think I'm on the right path.
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- “Do not touch me…”
Gospel of John, chapter 20, verse 17 (John 20, 17)
+++++++++++++++++++++
I was with you, Father,
at the moment of creation.
I could not fail to know the elements and master them.
What would it be to
lift the stone of a tomb
compared to your will as Creator?
You taught me how the world is composed
and made me your son,
but I was a participant
in creation.
The followers who followed me
believed in You and in me,
Your son.
They will be happy to see me rise again,
but I will weep
for those still chained
in hell,
and my hands
will silence their strident cries.
Poor souls,
who migrate toward nothingness.
The fear,
God,
of these blind depths,
of these people who have not had
the splendor of your reins.
Because you do not know,
Father,
what it means
to sit at Your right hand
as a king.
A gentle but not cowardly king
who mediates
between your divine wrath
and the lust and unbelief of man.
I,
who am just,
love man
and ask your forgiveness
through this slow agony
that has lasted for centuries
for the world.
Behold, Lord, I give you back my spirit
in the form of a white dove
that will fly toward heaven.
And no other way
have you built peace
than with the groins of a bird
that brings the olive branch to your lips.
Father,
I will rise again,
and I will sit at your right hand.
POEM OF THE CROSS - Alda Merini
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- “Noli me tangere …”
Vangelo di Giovanni, capitolo 20, versetto 17 (Giovanni 20, 17)
++++++++++++++++++
- Ero con te, Padre,
al momento della creazione.
Non potevo non conoscere gli elementi e dominarli.
Cosa vuoi che sia
sollevare la pietra di un sepolcro
in confronto alla tua volontà di Creatore.
Tu mi hai insegnato come è composto il mondo
e mi hai reso figlio,
ma ero partecipe
della creazione.
I seguaci che mi hanno seguito
hanno creduto in Te e in me,
Tuo figlio.
Saranno felici di vedermi risorgere,
ma io piangerò
per quelli che sono ancora incatenati
nell'inferno
e le mie mani
faranno tacere i loro stridori.
Povere anime,
che migrano verso il nulla.
Lo spavento,
Dio,
di queste profondità cieche,
di questa gente che non ha avuto
lo splendore delle tue redini.
Perché tu non sai,
Padre,
cosa vuol dire
sedere alla Tua destra
in veste di re.
Un re mite ma non codardo
che fa da intermediario
tra la tua collera divina
e la lussuria e la miscredenza dell'uomo.
Io,
che sono giusto,
amo l'uomo
e ti chiedo perdono
attraverso questa lenta agonia
che dura da secoli
per il mondo.
Ecco, Signore, io ti rendo il mio spirito
in forma di bianca colomba
che volerà verso il cielo.
E non altrimenti
Tu hai costruito la pace
se non con gli inguini di un uccello
che porta l'ulivo alle tue labbra.
Padre,
io risorgerò,
e siederò alla Tua destra.
POEMA DELLA CROCE - Alda Merini
-----------------------------------------------------------------
click to activate the icon of slideshow: the small triangle inscribed in the small rectangle, at the top right, in the photostream;
or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;
www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
…………………………………………………………………
This photographic story, with text, which I propose as my last work for Flickr in 2025 (2026 is now just a few minutes away), tells of the procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli, which took place in March of this year 2025 in the town of San Marco d'Alunzio (in the province of Messina). The procession normally begins on the morning of the last Friday of March each year, but there is an exception to this rule: when it coincides with Good Friday, then the procession is brought forward to the previous Friday. The procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli is an ancient penitential rite. On the feast day of the Crucifix, Holy Mass is celebrated in the Church of Aracoeli in San Marco d'Alunzio. On this occasion, the Holy Crucifix is celebrated. Crucifix (which is located in the church at the end of the right nave, at its feet is the painting of the Virgin of Sorrows pierced by seven swords), Christ on the Cross is removed by the devotees from the hook on which it is hanging, is carried outside the church, here it is raised and fixed on the float, the sermon of the priest who has climbed onto the float next to the Crucifix takes over, under the Cross is fixed the painting of His Sorrowful Mother, then they are carried in procession by the men (and women) in blue hoods called "babbaluti", they proceed invoking the pity and mercy of the Lord with a constant and rhythmic lament, saying "Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!"; this is the norm, but this year the bad weather has brought some changes, the float on which they hoisted the SS. The crucifix with the kneeling babbaluti was not located in the churchyard, but inside the church. Christ was covered with a large sheet of cellophane to protect it from the rain, while the painting of the Madonna with swords in her heart was placed at her Son's feet only after the procession returned to the church. San Marco d'Alunzio is a charming town in the Messina area, located in the Nebrodi Mountains of Sicily. The procession takes place in honor of the Holy Crucifix of Araceli. This religious-penitential event is also known as the "procession of the babbaluti." These are those who, by vow or grace received, have chosen to carry the fercolo containing the crucifix and the painting on their shoulders in procession. they head to the nearby Church of Santa Maria dei Poveri or to some private home nearby where, sheltered from the curiosity of the faithful, they wear a simple but characteristic indigo-colored cloth habit, consisting of a tunic and a conical hood that covers the entire body and leaves only the eyes and hands free. It is not uncommon, however, for the penitents, rendered anonymous by the habit they wear, to also include women, who, to avoid any possibility of recognition, wear a pair of gloves; The babbaluti are 33 in number to commemorate the 33 years of Christ. The number is odd, in fact the 33rd babbaluto does not carry the vara. He (should be the “capo vara”) proceeds backwards, looking towards Christ and his Mother, and at the same time checks that everything is in order among the babbaluti, guiding the vara along the path, even if it is moving backwards (this is a way of proceeding in carrying the vara or fercolo, present in various Sicilian religious processions). So, the 32 (+1) "babbaluti" carry on their shoulders the float that bears the Holy Crucifix of the Araceli church (the statue of Christ was created by Scipione Li Volsi, in the year 1652, he was a sculptor and plasterer of the Sicilian Baroque), at whose feet, on the float, is tied the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows, whose chest appears pierced by seven swords (it is an 18th century painting), however, as already described, this year the painting, to protect it from the rain, was placed on the float only upon the return of the procession to the church. Before the procession begins, the babbaluti advance barefoot, wearing only heavy, hand-knitted stockings of raw wool. Before entering the church, they must walk a path of purification. When they approach the ancient church of Araceli, they bow and kiss the ground, thus receiving permission to enter the church. This, however, occurs through a side door, called the "false door" (in Sicilian dialect, "porta fausa"). Having entered the church from the side, they now exit through the main entrance, allowing them to take their places, kneeling in front and behind the float. To enter the "porta fausa," the babbaluti proceed in pairs, with the last babbaluti, the eldest, proceeding alone. After the priest's long-awaited speech, the procession can begin, winding through the streets of the picturesque and welcoming village of San Marco d'Alunzio. Along the way, the Babbaluti pace their steps, accompanying the mournful and plaintive jugular vein that invokes the Lord. Devout men and women walk alongside the Babbaluti, walking alongside the float, touching it, sometimes caressing it... just to have physical (and spiritual) contact with it. Finally, after completing a specific route, the procession returns to the ancient church (of Norman origins) of Aracoeli. Every time I attend this touching event, I am completely overwhelmed by emotion (which, however, I cannot abandon, lest I lose concentration while taking photos). The highlight is when the crucified Christ is removed from the hook fixed to the wall by expert men, and then carried (it seems to float) above the heads of the devotees, supported aloft with their hands, and hoisted and secured to the float. In these moments of intense emotion, it is common to see in the eyes of the devotees, shining with tears, that profound emotion of their relationship with this Christ, which has lasted forever: it is as if they were in the presence of the true Christ, in flesh and blood. This is the atmosphere experienced in those moments, this is the magic of the procession of the Most Holy Crucifix and His Mother, represented by the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows pierced by seven swords (an iconography of Spanish origin).
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Il presente racconto fotografico, con testo, che propongo come ultimo mio lavoro per Flickr dell’anno 2025 (oramai mancano pochi minuti al 2026) parla della processione del Santissimo Crocifisso di Aracoeli che si è tenuto nel marzo di quest’anno 2025 nel paese di San Marco d’Alunzio (in provincia di Messina). La processione normalmente inizia la mattina dell’ultimo venerdì del mese di marzo di ogni anno, c’è però una eccezione a questa regola, quando si realizza la coincidenza col Venerdì Santo, allora la processione viene anticipata al venerdì precedente. Quella del SS.Crocifisso di Aracoeli è un antico rito penitenziale, il giorno della festa del Crocifisso, a San Marco d'Alunzio si celebra la S. Messa nella Chiesa dell'Aracoeli, in questa occasione il SS. Crocifisso (che si trova nella chiesa in fondo alla navata di destra, ai suoi piedi è posto il quadro della Vergine Addolorata trafitta da sette spade), il Cristo sulla Croce viene tolto dai devoti dal gancio sul quale è appeso, viene portato all’esterno della chiesa, qui viene innalzato e fissato sulla vara, subentra il sermone del sacerdote salito sulla vara accanto al Crocifisso, sotto alla Croce viene fissato il quadro di sua Madre Addolorata, quindi vengono portati in processione dagli uomini (e donne) incappucciati di colore blu detti “babbaluti”, essi procedono invocando la pietà e la misericordia del Signore con un costante e ritmato lamento, dicendo “Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!”; questa è la norma, ma quest’anno il cattivo tempo ha portato qualche cambiamento, la vara sulla quale hanno issato il SS. Crocifisso con i babbaluti messi in ginocchio, non si trovava sul sagrato davanti la chiesa, ma era dentro la chiesa, il Cristo veniva ricoperto con un ampio foglio di cellophane per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, mentre il quadro della Madonna con le spade nel cuore, è stato messo ai piedi di Suo Figlio solo al rientro della processione nella chiesa. San Marco d’Alunzio è un ameno paese del territorio Messinese, sito sui monti Nebrodi, in Sicilia; la processione si svolge proprio in onore del Santissimo Crocifisso di Araceli, è questa una ricorrenza religioso-penitenziale conosciuta anche come "processione dei babbaluti", essi sono coloro che per voto o per grazia ricevuta, hanno deciso di portare in processione sulle loro spalle il fercolo con il Crocifisso ed il quadro; essi si dirigono nella vicina Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Poveri o in qualche abitazione privata lì vicino dove, al riparo dalla curiosità dei fedeli, indossano un semplice ma caratteristico saio di tela di colore indaco, costituito da una tunica e un cappuccio di forma conica tale da coprire l'intero corpo e lasciare liberi solo gli occhi e le mani, non è raro purtuttavia che tra i penitenti, resi anonimi dal saio che indossano, vi siano anche delle donne, le quali per evitare qualsiasi possibilità di riconoscimento, indossano un paio di guanti; i babbaluti sono in numero di 33 per rievocare i 33 anni di Cristo, il numero è dispari, infatti il 33° babbaluto non porta la vara, egli (dovrebbe essere il “capo vara”) procede all’indietro, rivolgendo lo sguardo al Cristo ed a sua Madre, e nel contempo controlla che tutto sia in ordine tra i babbaluti, guidando la vara lungo il percorso, anche se il suo andamento è a ritroso, (questo è un modo di procedere nel portare la vara o fercolo, presente in diverse processioni religiose siciliane). Quindi, i 32 (+1) "babbaluti" portano sulle loro spalle la vara che reca il Santo Crocifisso della chiesa dell’Araceli (la statua del Cristo è stata creata da Scipione Li Volsi, nell'anno 1652, egli fu uno scultore e stuccatore del barocco SIciliano), ai cui piedi, sulla vara, viene legato il quadro della Madonna Addolorata, il cui petto appare trafitto da sette spade ( è un dipinto del XVIII secolo), purtuttavia come già descritto, quest’anno il quadro, per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, è stato messo sulla vara solo al rientro della processione in chiesa. I babbaluti prima dell'inizio della processione avanzano a piedi scalzi indossando solo delle pesanti calze di lana grezza realizzate a mano, devono percorrere, prima di entrare in chiesa, un cammino di purificazione: quando essi giungono in prossimità dell'antica chiesa dell'Araceli, essi si chinano e baciano in terra, ricevendo in tal modo il permesso per poter accedere dentro la chiesa, questo però avviene da una porta laterale, chiamata "falsa porta" (In dialetto siciliano “porta fausa”), una volta entrati in chiesa lateralmente, ora fuoriescono dall'ingresso principale, potendo così prendere posto, inginocchiandosi sul davanti ed alle spalle, della vara; i babbaluti per accedere alla “porta fausa” procedono in coppia, l’ultimo babbaluto procede da solo, lui è il più anziano tra i babbaluti; seguirà l'atteso discorso del sacerdote, terminato, potrà iniziare la processione che si svolge per le vie del pittoresco ed accogliente paese di San Marco d'Alunzio. Lungo il percorso i Babbaluti cadenzano la propria andatura accompagnandosi alla mesta e lamentosa giugulatoria che invoca il Signore . Ci sono uomini e donne devoti che procedono assieme ai babbaluti camminando a lato della vara, toccandola, ora accarezzandola...pur di avere un contatto fisico (e di rimando spirituale) con essa. Infine, dopo aver compiuto un preciso percorso, la processione fa rientro nell'antica chiesa (di origini Normanne) dell'Aracoeli. Ogniqualvolta sono presente a questa toccante ricorrenza sono completamente inondato da emozioni (alle quali però non posso abbandonarmi, perderei la concentrazione nel realizzare le foto), il momento clou è quando il Cristo Crocifisso viene tolto dal gancio fissato sul muro da uomini esperti, per poi essere portato (sembra galleggiare) sopra la testa dei devoti, sostenuto in alto con le mani, ed essere issato e fissato sulla vara; in questi momenti di intensa emozione è comune vedere negli occhi dei devoti, lucidi di lacrime, quella emozione profonda del loro rapporto con questo Cristo, che dura da sempre: è come se si trovassero al cospetto del Cristo vero, in carne ed ossa, questa è l’atmosfera che si vive in quei momenti, questa è la magia della processione del SS. Crocifisso e di Sua Madre, rappresentata dal quadro dell’Addolorata trafitta da sette spade (iconografia di origine spagnola).
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This I made for supper, 22.3.2016.... potatoes, carrots, ginger, parsley, meat, just a little spicy green peppers, olive oil .. it taught me my mother to cook...and I'm doing great :)
.……………………………….
- “Do not touch me…”
Gospel of John, chapter 20, verse 17 (John 20, 17)
+++++++++++++++++++++
I was with you, Father,
at the moment of creation.
I could not fail to know the elements and master them.
What would it be to
lift the stone of a tomb
compared to your will as Creator?
You taught me how the world is composed
and made me your son,
but I was a participant
in creation.
The followers who followed me
believed in You and in me,
Your son.
They will be happy to see me rise again,
but I will weep
for those still chained
in hell,
and my hands
will silence their strident cries.
Poor souls,
who migrate toward nothingness.
The fear,
God,
of these blind depths,
of these people who have not had
the splendor of your reins.
Because you do not know,
Father,
what it means
to sit at Your right hand
as a king.
A gentle but not cowardly king
who mediates
between your divine wrath
and the lust and unbelief of man.
I,
who am just,
love man
and ask your forgiveness
through this slow agony
that has lasted for centuries
for the world.
Behold, Lord, I give you back my spirit
in the form of a white dove
that will fly toward heaven.
And no other way
have you built peace
than with the groins of a bird
that brings the olive branch to your lips.
Father,
I will rise again,
and I will sit at your right hand.
POEM OF THE CROSS - Alda Merini
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
- “Noli me tangere …”
Vangelo di Giovanni, capitolo 20, versetto 17 (Giovanni 20, 17)
++++++++++++++++++
- Ero con te, Padre,
al momento della creazione.
Non potevo non conoscere gli elementi e dominarli.
Cosa vuoi che sia
sollevare la pietra di un sepolcro
in confronto alla tua volontà di Creatore.
Tu mi hai insegnato come è composto il mondo
e mi hai reso figlio,
ma ero partecipe
della creazione.
I seguaci che mi hanno seguito
hanno creduto in Te e in me,
Tuo figlio.
Saranno felici di vedermi risorgere,
ma io piangerò
per quelli che sono ancora incatenati
nell'inferno
e le mie mani
faranno tacere i loro stridori.
Povere anime,
che migrano verso il nulla.
Lo spavento,
Dio,
di queste profondità cieche,
di questa gente che non ha avuto
lo splendore delle tue redini.
Perché tu non sai,
Padre,
cosa vuol dire
sedere alla Tua destra
in veste di re.
Un re mite ma non codardo
che fa da intermediario
tra la tua collera divina
e la lussuria e la miscredenza dell'uomo.
Io,
che sono giusto,
amo l'uomo
e ti chiedo perdono
attraverso questa lenta agonia
che dura da secoli
per il mondo.
Ecco, Signore, io ti rendo il mio spirito
in forma di bianca colomba
che volerà verso il cielo.
E non altrimenti
Tu hai costruito la pace
se non con gli inguini di un uccello
che porta l'ulivo alle tue labbra.
Padre,
io risorgerò,
e siederò alla Tua destra.
POEMA DELLA CROCE - Alda Merini
-----------------------------------------------------------------
click to activate the icon of slideshow: the small triangle inscribed in the small rectangle, at the top right, in the photostream;
or…. Press the “L” button to zoom in the image;
clicca sulla piccola icona per attivare lo slideshow: sulla facciata principale del photostream, in alto a destra c'è un piccolo rettangolo (rappresenta il monitor) con dentro un piccolo triangolo nero;
oppure…. premi il tasto “L” per ingrandire l'immagine;
www.worldphoto.org/sony-world-photography-awards/winners-...
www.fotografidigitali.it/gallery/2726/opere-italiane-segn...
…………………………………………………………………
This photographic story, with text, which I propose as my last work for Flickr in 2025 (2026 is now just a few minutes away), tells of the procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli, which took place in March of this year 2025 in the town of San Marco d'Alunzio (in the province of Messina). The procession normally begins on the morning of the last Friday of March each year, but there is an exception to this rule: when it coincides with Good Friday, then the procession is brought forward to the previous Friday. The procession of the Holy Crucifix of Aracoeli is an ancient penitential rite. On the feast day of the Crucifix, Holy Mass is celebrated in the Church of Aracoeli in San Marco d'Alunzio. On this occasion, the Holy Crucifix is celebrated. Crucifix (which is located in the church at the end of the right nave, at its feet is the painting of the Virgin of Sorrows pierced by seven swords), Christ on the Cross is removed by the devotees from the hook on which it is hanging, is carried outside the church, here it is raised and fixed on the float, the sermon of the priest who has climbed onto the float next to the Crucifix takes over, under the Cross is fixed the painting of His Sorrowful Mother, then they are carried in procession by the men (and women) in blue hoods called "babbaluti", they proceed invoking the pity and mercy of the Lord with a constant and rhythmic lament, saying "Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!"; this is the norm, but this year the bad weather has brought some changes, the float on which they hoisted the SS. The crucifix with the kneeling babbaluti was not located in the churchyard, but inside the church. Christ was covered with a large sheet of cellophane to protect it from the rain, while the painting of the Madonna with swords in her heart was placed at her Son's feet only after the procession returned to the church. San Marco d'Alunzio is a charming town in the Messina area, located in the Nebrodi Mountains of Sicily. The procession takes place in honor of the Holy Crucifix of Araceli. This religious-penitential event is also known as the "procession of the babbaluti." These are those who, by vow or grace received, have chosen to carry the fercolo containing the crucifix and the painting on their shoulders in procession. they head to the nearby Church of Santa Maria dei Poveri or to some private home nearby where, sheltered from the curiosity of the faithful, they wear a simple but characteristic indigo-colored cloth habit, consisting of a tunic and a conical hood that covers the entire body and leaves only the eyes and hands free. It is not uncommon, however, for the penitents, rendered anonymous by the habit they wear, to also include women, who, to avoid any possibility of recognition, wear a pair of gloves; The babbaluti are 33 in number to commemorate the 33 years of Christ. The number is odd, in fact the 33rd babbaluto does not carry the vara. He (should be the “capo vara”) proceeds backwards, looking towards Christ and his Mother, and at the same time checks that everything is in order among the babbaluti, guiding the vara along the path, even if it is moving backwards (this is a way of proceeding in carrying the vara or fercolo, present in various Sicilian religious processions). So, the 32 (+1) "babbaluti" carry on their shoulders the float that bears the Holy Crucifix of the Araceli church (the statue of Christ was created by Scipione Li Volsi, in the year 1652, he was a sculptor and plasterer of the Sicilian Baroque), at whose feet, on the float, is tied the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows, whose chest appears pierced by seven swords (it is an 18th century painting), however, as already described, this year the painting, to protect it from the rain, was placed on the float only upon the return of the procession to the church. Before the procession begins, the babbaluti advance barefoot, wearing only heavy, hand-knitted stockings of raw wool. Before entering the church, they must walk a path of purification. When they approach the ancient church of Araceli, they bow and kiss the ground, thus receiving permission to enter the church. This, however, occurs through a side door, called the "false door" (in Sicilian dialect, "porta fausa"). Having entered the church from the side, they now exit through the main entrance, allowing them to take their places, kneeling in front and behind the float. To enter the "porta fausa," the babbaluti proceed in pairs, with the last babbaluti, the eldest, proceeding alone. After the priest's long-awaited speech, the procession can begin, winding through the streets of the picturesque and welcoming village of San Marco d'Alunzio. Along the way, the Babbaluti pace their steps, accompanying the mournful and plaintive jugular vein that invokes the Lord. Devout men and women walk alongside the Babbaluti, walking alongside the float, touching it, sometimes caressing it... just to have physical (and spiritual) contact with it. Finally, after completing a specific route, the procession returns to the ancient church (of Norman origins) of Aracoeli. Every time I attend this touching event, I am completely overwhelmed by emotion (which, however, I cannot abandon, lest I lose concentration while taking photos). The highlight is when the crucified Christ is removed from the hook fixed to the wall by expert men, and then carried (it seems to float) above the heads of the devotees, supported aloft with their hands, and hoisted and secured to the float. In these moments of intense emotion, it is common to see in the eyes of the devotees, shining with tears, that profound emotion of their relationship with this Christ, which has lasted forever: it is as if they were in the presence of the true Christ, in flesh and blood. This is the atmosphere experienced in those moments, this is the magic of the procession of the Most Holy Crucifix and His Mother, represented by the painting of Our Lady of Sorrows pierced by seven swords (an iconography of Spanish origin).
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Il presente racconto fotografico, con testo, che propongo come ultimo mio lavoro per Flickr dell’anno 2025 (oramai mancano pochi minuti al 2026) parla della processione del Santissimo Crocifisso di Aracoeli che si è tenuto nel marzo di quest’anno 2025 nel paese di San Marco d’Alunzio (in provincia di Messina). La processione normalmente inizia la mattina dell’ultimo venerdì del mese di marzo di ogni anno, c’è però una eccezione a questa regola, quando si realizza la coincidenza col Venerdì Santo, allora la processione viene anticipata al venerdì precedente. Quella del SS.Crocifisso di Aracoeli è un antico rito penitenziale, il giorno della festa del Crocifisso, a San Marco d'Alunzio si celebra la S. Messa nella Chiesa dell'Aracoeli, in questa occasione il SS. Crocifisso (che si trova nella chiesa in fondo alla navata di destra, ai suoi piedi è posto il quadro della Vergine Addolorata trafitta da sette spade), il Cristo sulla Croce viene tolto dai devoti dal gancio sul quale è appeso, viene portato all’esterno della chiesa, qui viene innalzato e fissato sulla vara, subentra il sermone del sacerdote salito sulla vara accanto al Crocifisso, sotto alla Croce viene fissato il quadro di sua Madre Addolorata, quindi vengono portati in processione dagli uomini (e donne) incappucciati di colore blu detti “babbaluti”, essi procedono invocando la pietà e la misericordia del Signore con un costante e ritmato lamento, dicendo “Signuri, Misericordia, Pietà!”; questa è la norma, ma quest’anno il cattivo tempo ha portato qualche cambiamento, la vara sulla quale hanno issato il SS. Crocifisso con i babbaluti messi in ginocchio, non si trovava sul sagrato davanti la chiesa, ma era dentro la chiesa, il Cristo veniva ricoperto con un ampio foglio di cellophane per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, mentre il quadro della Madonna con le spade nel cuore, è stato messo ai piedi di Suo Figlio solo al rientro della processione nella chiesa. San Marco d’Alunzio è un ameno paese del territorio Messinese, sito sui monti Nebrodi, in Sicilia; la processione si svolge proprio in onore del Santissimo Crocifisso di Araceli, è questa una ricorrenza religioso-penitenziale conosciuta anche come "processione dei babbaluti", essi sono coloro che per voto o per grazia ricevuta, hanno deciso di portare in processione sulle loro spalle il fercolo con il Crocifisso ed il quadro; essi si dirigono nella vicina Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Poveri o in qualche abitazione privata lì vicino dove, al riparo dalla curiosità dei fedeli, indossano un semplice ma caratteristico saio di tela di colore indaco, costituito da una tunica e un cappuccio di forma conica tale da coprire l'intero corpo e lasciare liberi solo gli occhi e le mani, non è raro purtuttavia che tra i penitenti, resi anonimi dal saio che indossano, vi siano anche delle donne, le quali per evitare qualsiasi possibilità di riconoscimento, indossano un paio di guanti; i babbaluti sono in numero di 33 per rievocare i 33 anni di Cristo, il numero è dispari, infatti il 33° babbaluto non porta la vara, egli (dovrebbe essere il “capo vara”) procede all’indietro, rivolgendo lo sguardo al Cristo ed a sua Madre, e nel contempo controlla che tutto sia in ordine tra i babbaluti, guidando la vara lungo il percorso, anche se il suo andamento è a ritroso, (questo è un modo di procedere nel portare la vara o fercolo, presente in diverse processioni religiose siciliane). Quindi, i 32 (+1) "babbaluti" portano sulle loro spalle la vara che reca il Santo Crocifisso della chiesa dell’Araceli (la statua del Cristo è stata creata da Scipione Li Volsi, nell'anno 1652, egli fu uno scultore e stuccatore del barocco SIciliano), ai cui piedi, sulla vara, viene legato il quadro della Madonna Addolorata, il cui petto appare trafitto da sette spade ( è un dipinto del XVIII secolo), purtuttavia come già descritto, quest’anno il quadro, per proteggerlo dalla pioggia, è stato messo sulla vara solo al rientro della processione in chiesa. I babbaluti prima dell'inizio della processione avanzano a piedi scalzi indossando solo delle pesanti calze di lana grezza realizzate a mano, devono percorrere, prima di entrare in chiesa, un cammino di purificazione: quando essi giungono in prossimità dell'antica chiesa dell'Araceli, essi si chinano e baciano in terra, ricevendo in tal modo il permesso per poter accedere dentro la chiesa, questo però avviene da una porta laterale, chiamata "falsa porta" (In dialetto siciliano “porta fausa”), una volta entrati in chiesa lateralmente, ora fuoriescono dall'ingresso principale, potendo così prendere posto, inginocchiandosi sul davanti ed alle spalle, della vara; i babbaluti per accedere alla “porta fausa” procedono in coppia, l’ultimo babbaluto procede da solo, lui è il più anziano tra i babbaluti; seguirà l'atteso discorso del sacerdote, terminato, potrà iniziare la processione che si svolge per le vie del pittoresco ed accogliente paese di San Marco d'Alunzio. Lungo il percorso i Babbaluti cadenzano la propria andatura accompagnandosi alla mesta e lamentosa giugulatoria che invoca il Signore . Ci sono uomini e donne devoti che procedono assieme ai babbaluti camminando a lato della vara, toccandola, ora accarezzandola...pur di avere un contatto fisico (e di rimando spirituale) con essa. Infine, dopo aver compiuto un preciso percorso, la processione fa rientro nell'antica chiesa (di origini Normanne) dell'Aracoeli. Ogniqualvolta sono presente a questa toccante ricorrenza sono completamente inondato da emozioni (alle quali però non posso abbandonarmi, perderei la concentrazione nel realizzare le foto), il momento clou è quando il Cristo Crocifisso viene tolto dal gancio fissato sul muro da uomini esperti, per poi essere portato (sembra galleggiare) sopra la testa dei devoti, sostenuto in alto con le mani, ed essere issato e fissato sulla vara; in questi momenti di intensa emozione è comune vedere negli occhi dei devoti, lucidi di lacrime, quella emozione profonda del loro rapporto con questo Cristo, che dura da sempre: è come se si trovassero al cospetto del Cristo vero, in carne ed ossa, questa è l’atmosfera che si vive in quei momenti, questa è la magia della processione del SS. Crocifisso e di Sua Madre, rappresentata dal quadro dell’Addolorata trafitta da sette spade (iconografia di origine spagnola).
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Without provocation, my mind can wonder and again I remember how wonderful it was to put my hand out as I walked, and to touch the strength, the power and the love that was my dog, Ben.
I miss my Wolfhound so much - but in-between the painful yearnings of my heart there is Rosie.
Rosie is the exact opposite of Ben. She is the red-headed spitfire. She manufactures energy with every step she takes and the more she walks the more reved up she becomes. Huge gulps of infinite energy. Everything is new. Everything is delightful. Rosie sees everything.
She stops to watch the leaves blow down the street and like an athlete in training takes up the challenge trying to capture as many as she can. I watch as she kisses her first fly, her first beetle, her first spider. She stops to watch in fascination as the liberated children run and laugh in the school playground. What are you thinking little one, I wonder?
Rosie is the Walmart ambassador on our walks and feels the need to greet everyone and then looks on with sorrow as they say goodbye. The world belongs to Rosie and she is wasting no time embracing all it has to offer.
The Irish Terrier breed is not for the first time dog owner or for the weak hearted. DO NOT be suckered in by those gorgeous, dreamy eyes and the darling way she quizzically holds her head. She is stubborn (ALL the shoes in this house belong to her and her alone), tenacious (she actually prances as she walks), and if she were able to vocalize her opinion so that we could really understand what she is trying to say to us we would realize that she is ALWAYS right! She abhors discipline and three walks a day are simply not enough. It is exhausting and when my husband comes home from work I eagerly pass the responsibility of HIS red-head onto him for the duration of the day. When we first got her I broke down one particularly trying morning. I felt like I was in a Postpartum depression from this incorrigible puppy and my daughter offered to look after her. She told me I needed to take a few hours of “me” time.
The way I look at it, is, the breeder should be paying us to take these bounders off of their hands and then send monthly disbursements to us just for keeping our commitment!
…and when the moon takes over for the sun and another day has passed, it is time to put our Rosie to bed. Our lovely, precious puppy who has taught us to laugh again ends the day with yet another gift - sweet puppy kisses - one from her, and then another one - from Ben…
He has taught, no, he has 'educated' many generations of children trying to inculcate into them the virtues of rationality, knowledge and ethical behaviour. Even in retirement he can't stop himself educating by writing letters to the editor of a newspaper or addressing the authorities when he feels that the virtues are in danger. Once a teacher always a teacher.
Stones taught me to fly,
Love, it taught me to lie,
Life, it taught me to die,
So it's not hard to fall,
When you float like a cannonball.
Cant stop listening to Damien Rice right now, he is amazing, agreed? :D
AHHH. FIRST PICTURE ON EXPLORE. AHH! CANT FIND WHERE, BY ITS THERE! EEEE :D
www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/2009/05/26/page7/
© All rights reserved.
December Photography Class:
Lovely Lizards will be hosting a 2-Day photography class, taught by Lovely Lizards Photographer, Roger Reetz. The class will be an intensive 10-12 hour study, starting with “this is a camera” and going MUCH deeper from there. We will be covering such topics as composition, portraits, nature photography, existing light photography, landscapes, going manual, wildlife photography, photo editing apps, and much more. It will be beneficial for both “Point and Shoot” and DSLR camera owners but will have a heavy focus on using a DSLR camera. Weather permitting; we will also get some hands on practice with taking pictures outdoors.
The course will be held at the Orange Beach Golf Center on Canal Road, on Saturday, December 8th, from 9-4ish and Sunday December 9th, from 1-8ish. The cost of the class is $75 We will break for lunch on Saturday, but please bring a bag lunch for Sunday. For more information or to register for the class, please go to lovelylizardsphotography.weebly.com/photography-classes.html.
Please help spread the word ;).
Photo by Roger Reetz Lovely Lizards Photography
I taught Ivar how to sit and now he does it every time before I give him his food. I love how enthusiastic he always is to get food. It’s a very exciting time!
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however, we are following Edith, Lettice’s maid, as she heads east of Mayfair, to a place far removed from the elegance and gentility of Lettice’s flat, in London’s East End. As a young woman, Edith is very interested in fashion, particularly now that she is stepping out with Mr. Willison the grocer’s delivery boy, Frank Leadbetter. Luckily like most young girls of her class, her mother has taught Edith how to sew her own clothes and she has become an accomplished dressmaker, having successfully made frocks from scratch for herself, or altered cheaper existing second-hand pieces to make them more fashionable by letting out waistlines and taking up hems. Thanks to Lettice’s Cockney charwoman*, Mrs. Boothby, who lives in nearby Poplar, Edith now has a wonderful haberdasher in Whitechapel, which she goes to on occasion on her days off when she needs something for one of her many sewing projects as she slowly adds to and updates her wardrobe. Mrs. Minkin’s Haberdashery is just a short walk from Petticoat Lane**, where Edith often picks up bargains from one of the many second-hand clothes stalls. Today she is visiting Mrs. Minkin with her friend and fellow maid, Hilda, who works for Edith’s former employer, Mrs. Plaistow and has Thursdays free until four o’clock.
“Cor, you are so lucky Edith,” remarks Hilda as the two friends stand at Mrs. Minkin’s cluttered, but well ordered shop counter. “Your Miss Lettice seems never to be home. Weekend parties and all that.”
“Are you complaining, Hilda?” Edith asks her friend as she gazes around the floor to ceiling shelves full of ribbons and bobbins, corsetry, elastics tapers, and fabrics and breathes in the smell of fabrics, and the cloves and lavender used by Mrs. Minkel to keep the moths at bay.
“Oh no!” Hilda defends with a shake of her head. “I’m so happy that you’ve got spare time in her absence to catch up with me, Edith. I just wish I had such luxury. You remember what it was like. I’m lucky if Mr. and Mrs. Plaistow go to Bournemouth for a fortnight in high summer, and even then, I get penalised by being paid board wages*** since they take Cook with them.”
“Miss Lettice has only gone down to Wiltshire for the weekend, Hilda,” Edith confirms, toying with a reel of pale blue cotton she plans to buy along with a reel of yellow and a reel of red cotton. “She’ll be back on Monday, so it would hardly be worth putting me on board wages.”
“She never does though, does she? Not even for Christmas when she goes home, and you go to your parents?”
“Well, no.” Edith admits, dropping her head as her face flushes with embarrassment. She knows how much better off she is with Lettice than in her old position as a parlour maid alongside Hilda at Mrs. Plaistow’s in Pimlico. Mrs. Plaistow is a hard employer, and very mean, whereas Lettice is the opposite, and she knows that she is very spoilt in her position as live-in domestic for a woman who is not at home almost as often as she is. “But,” she counters. “When Miss Lettice does come back, she’ll be bringing her future sister-in-law with her, and then I’ll be busy picking up after two flappers rather than one, and she often entertains when she has guests, so I’ll have my work cut out for me between cleaning and cooking for the pair of them.”
“Still, it’s not the same.” Hilda grumbles. “Even if you do have to work hard, it’s not like the hard graft I have to suffer under Mrs. Plaistow. Did I tell you that Queenie chucked in her position?”
“No!” Edith gasps, remembering Mrs. Plaistow’s cheerful head parlour maid who was kind and friendly to both her and Hilda. “She was always so lovely. You’ll miss her.”
“Will I ever.” Hilda agrees. “She’s gone home to Manchester, well to Cheshire actually. Said she’s done with the big lights of London now, and she wants to be closer to her mum now that she’s getting on a bit.”
“That’s nice for her.”
“That’s what she said, but I think she really found a new position to get away from Mrs. Plaistow and all her mean ways.”
“What’s her new position?”
“She’s working as a maid in Alderley Edge for two old spinster sisters who live in a big old Victorian villa left to them by their father who owned a cotton mill. She wrote to me a few weeks ago after she settled in. She told me that the old ladies don’t go out much as one of them is an invalid, and they seldom entertain. Half the house is shut up because it’s too hard for them to use it. There’s a cook, a gardener cum odd job man, and like you a char comes in to do the hard jobs, so she’s finding it much easier. She writes that she can even take the train in to Manchester on her afternoons off to go shopping and see her old mum.”
“That sounds perfect. Does that mean you’ll become the head parlour maid now, Hilda?”
Hilda cocks an eyebrow at her friend and snorts with derision. “Don’t make me laugh. This is Mrs. Plaistow we’re talking about.”
“Yes, but you seem the most obvious choice to fill Queenie’s spot.” Edith says cheerily. “You’ve been there for what, three years now?” Hilda nods in agreement to Edith’s question. “So, you’d be perfect.”
This time it is Hilda’s head that sinks between her shoulders in a defeated fashion, the pale brown knit of her cardigan suddenly hanging lose over her plump frame as she hunches forward slightly.
“Of course you would, Hilda!” Edith assures her friend, placing a comforting hand on her forearm.
“Mrs. Plaistow doesn’t think so. She says I need more experience.”
“Oh what rubbish!” Edith cries, the outrage and indignation for her friend’s plight palpable in her voice. “Three years is more than enough experience!”
“She’s gone and hired a new girl after putting an advertisement in The Lady****. Her name’s Agnes.”
Both girls look at one another, screw up their face at the name, mutter their disapproval and then burst into girlish laughter as they chuckle over the faces each other pulled in their shared disgust. It is then that Edith has a momentary pang of loss as she remembers the nights she and Hilda used to share in their tiny attic room at the top of Mrs. Plaistow’s tall Pimlico townhouse. It might have been cold with no heating to be had, but all the girlish silliness and fun they had made up for the lack of warmth: talking about the handsome soldiers they met on their shared days off, discussing what their weddings would be like – each being the other’s bridesmaid – and constant discussions about what was fashionable to wear.
“Mrs. Plaistow’s just being her usual penny-pinching self.” Edith remarks. “She just doesn’t want to increase your wages and pay you what you’re really worth. I bet she hired this Agnes at a lesser wage than Queenie got, and even then, I don’t think Queenie was paid her worth.”
“Probably not.” Hilda says in return.
“I don’t know why you put up with her, Hilda. There are plenty of jobs going for parlour maids. I got out and look at me now. I’ve overheard Miss Lettice talk about something called ‘the servant problem’ with some of her married lady friends, where people cannot find quality domestics like us unless they can provide good working conditions. That’s why my wage at Miss Lettice’s is higher than it was at Mrs. Plaistow’s, and why I have a nice bedroom of my own with central heating and a comfy armchair to sit in.”
“And Miss Lettice is a nice mistress.” Hilda adds. “Who’s away half the time.”
“And Miss Lettice is nice mistress.” Edith agrees. “I can always give you the details of the agency in Westminster that I registered myself with, which led Miss Lettice to me. It has a very good clientele.”
“I don’t think a duchess will pay any better than Mrs. Plaistow will.” remarks Hilda disparagingly. “Anyway, I’ve been making enquiries on my days off, not today of course, and putting my name about Westminster and St. James’, so who knows.”
“Well, the offer is there if you fancy.” Edith begins.
“Here we are, Edit, my dear!” Mrs. Minkin chortles cheerily, breaking the girls’ conversation as she appears through the door leading from her storeroom, a bolt of pretty blue floral cotton across her ample arms. “Mr. Minkin needs to keep to buying fabric and leave it to me to arrange it in my own back room.” She wags a pudgy finger decorated with a few sparkling gold rings warningly as she places the fabric down in front of the gleaming cash register. “It was hidden, but now it is found Edit my dear.”
A refugee from Odessa as a result of a pogrom***** in 1905, Mrs. Minkin’s Russian accent, still thick after nearly twenty years of living in London’s East End, muffles the h at the end of Edith’s name, making the young girl smile, for it is an endearing quality. Edith likes the Jewess proprietor with her old fashioned upswept hairdo and frilly Edwardian lace jabot running down the front of her blouse, held in place by a beautiful cameo – a gift from her equally beloved and irritating Mr. Minkin. She always has a smile and a kind word for Edith, and her generosity towards her has found Edith discover extra spools of coloured cottons or curls of pretty ribbons and other notions****** in the lining of her parcel when she unpacks it at Cavendish Mews. Mrs. Minkin always insists when Edith mentions it, that she wished all her life that she had had a daughter, but all she ever had were sons, so Edith is like a surrogate daughter to her, and as a result she gets to reap the small benefits of her largess, at least until one of her sons finally makes her happy and brings home a girl she approves of.
“Thank you, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith says.
“Have you seen the latest edition of Weldon’s*******, Edit my dear?” the older woman asks as she jots down the fabric price in pencil on a notepad by the register. “There’s a very nice pattern for a frock with side and back flounces in it.”
“That’s what this fabric is for!” Edith says excitedly. “I think it will make a lovely summer frock.”
“I thought so.” Mrs. Minkin says with a wink. “I’m getting to know my Edit’s style. No?”
Edith nods shyly in agreement.
“Now, anything else, Edit my dear?”
“I’ll take these three cottons too please, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith places her hands over the spools and rolls them forward across the glass topped counter.
“Of course, Edit my dear.” the older woman chortles. “Some buttons too?” She indicates with the sweeping open handed gesture of a proud merchandiser to a tray of beautifully coloured glass, Bakelite and resin buttons expertly laid out next to the till.
“Oh,” Edith glances down at them quickly. “No thank you Mrs. Minkin. I have some buttons at home in my button jar.”
“Nonsense!” she scoffs in reply, expertly flicking through the cards of buttons. “A new dress must have new buttons.” She withdraws a set of six faceted Art Deco glass buttons that perfectly match the blue of the flowers on the fabric Edith is buying. “You take these as a gift from me. Yes?”
“Oh, but Mrs. Minkin!” Edith begins to protest, but she is silenced by the Jewess’ wagging finger.
“I’ll just fold them in here with the dress fabric.” She announces as if nothing were more normal. “You take them home with you and when you have made the frock, you wear it in here for me so I can see my buttons.”
Then just as she is slipping the buttons into a fold in the patterned cotton, a contemplative look runs across her face. She glances at Edith and then shifts her head. “You know what would go nicely with this fabric?” she asks rhetorically as she deposits the cloth onto a pile of brown paper next to the register and leans back. Stretching her arms over a basket of various brightly coloured and patterned fabric rolls she plucks a hat stand from behind her on which sits a beautiful straw hat decorated with a brightly coloured striped ribbon and some dainty fabric flowers in the palest shade of blue and golden red. “This.” She places it on the counter between herself and the two maids, smiling proudly as though the hat were a beautiful baby.
“Oh Edith!” gasps Hilda. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Oh yes it is.” agrees Edith.
“And with your blonde hair it would be perfect.” Hilda adds enthusiastically.
“Your friend has a good eye.” Mrs. Minkin pipes up, nodding in agreement at Hilda, blessing her with a magnanimous smile. “It would suit you very nicely.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Minkin.” Edith protests.
“Now, I can’t give it away,” the Jewess answers, squeezing her doughy chin between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand as she contemplates the pretty bow and flowers. “But for you, my dear Edit, I sell it for twelve and six.”
“Twelve and six!” gasps Edith. “Oh Mrs. Minkin, even at that generous price I could never afford it.” She gingerly reaches out and toys with one of the fabric blooms as it sits tantalisingly on the hat’s brim.
“Ahh,” sighs the older woman as she reaches over, picks up the hat stand and hat with a groan and returns it to the display top of the mahogany drawers behind her. “Pity. Your friend its right. It really would suit you.”
“I’m only a maid, Mrs. Minkin,” Edith reminds her. “And whilst I might get paid more generously than some,” She dares to glance momentarily at Hilda who does not return her gaze, distracting herself looking through a basket of balls of wool. “I’m afraid it’s Petticoat Lane for me, where I can buy a straw hat cheaply and decorate it myself with ribbons from here.”
“And you’ll do a beautiful job of it I’m sure, Edit my dear.” Mrs. Minkin replies consolingly. “Just remember to echo the colours on your new frock. Yes?”
“Alright Mrs. Minkin. I will.”
“Good girl.” Mrs. Minkin purrs.
Just as the older woman turns back to the two girls, Edith notices for the first time a small square box displayed next to the hat. The cover features the caricature of a woman in profile with a fashionable Eaton crop******** wearing a pearl necklace reaching into her handbag. “May-Fayre Handkerchiefs,” she reads aloud softly.
“Oh, I just received a delivery of them.” Mrs. Minkin reaches down and pulls open one of the drawers and withdraws another box. “They’re British made, and very good quality. Look.” She points proudly to some red writing on the face of the box. “The colours are guaranteed permanent.”
“Hankies?” Hilda queries. “You don’t need hankies, Edith. You’ve got loads of them.”
“Not for me, Hilda: for Mum,” Edith explains. “For Christmas.”
“But it’s summer. That’s months away!” Hilda splutters.
“I know, but I don’t see why I can’t do a spot of early Christmas shopping.” Edith defends her actions. “It will save me having to join the crowds desperately looking for gifts in December. How much are they Mrs. Minkin?”
“They’re three shillings and ninepence.” Mrs. Minkin replies. “You’re a sensible girl, Edit my dear. You shop for bargains, and you look for gifts all year round. What a pity you aren’t Jewish. You’d make a good wife for my Gideon.”
“No thank you, Mrs. Minkin,” Edith laughs. “No matchmaking for me.”
“Never mind.” Mrs. Minkin chuckles, joining in Edith’s good-natured laughing as she carefully folds brown paper around Edith’s fabric, buttons, box of handkerchiefs and spools of cotton.
“Besides,” Edith adds. “I already have a chap I’m walking out with. I can’t very well walk out with two, can I?”
“Well, a clever girl like you must have dozens of young men vying for her attentions, I’m sure.” The older woman ties Edith’s purchases up with some twine which she expertly trims with a pair of sharp shears.
“I wouldn’t say dozens. Anyway, just one will do me fine, Mrs. Minkin.”
“Now, the fabric is six shillings,” the proprietoress mutters, half to herself. “And the handkerchiefs three shillings and ninepence. With the three cottons, that comes to ten shillings exactly.” She enters the price into the register which clunks and groans noisily before the bright ting of a bell heralds the opening of the cash drawer at the bottom.
Edith opens her green leather handbag and pulls out her small black coin purse and carefully counts out the correct money in her palm. “Cheaper than a new straw hat.” She hands it over to Mrs. Minkin, who carefully puts it in the various denomination drawers of the till before pushing the cash drawer closed.
“Right you are Edit my dear. There you are.” Mrs. Minkin says cheerfully as she hands over Edith’s brown paper wrapped package bound with twine. “Now, what may I hep you with, my dear?” She turns her attention to Hilda.
“Me?” Hilda gulps, pressing the fingers of her right hand to her chest. “Oh, I’ve just come to keep my friend company. I don’t sew.”
“What?” The older woman’s eyes grow wide as she looks the rather dowdy brunette in the brown cardigan up and down appraisingly. “Not sew? What girl cannot sew?”
“Well I can’t,” Hilda replies. “And that’s a fact.”
“Foyl meydl*********!” gasps the Jewess aghast, her hand clasping the cameo at her throat. “All girls should know how to sew, even if badly.” She folds her arms akimbo over her large chest, a critical look on her face. “No goy********** will want to marry you if you can’t sew, my dear! Edit my dear,” She turns her attention away from Hilda momentarily. “You need to take your friend in hand and teach her how to sew.” She turns back to Hilda. “Your friend can show you. She knows how to make a silk purse from a sow’s ear. Eh?”
Hilda looks in terror at Edith, who bursts out laughing at her friend’s horrified face. Wrapping her arm comfortingly around her friend, Edith assures Mrs. Minkin that she will take Hilda under her wing. Winking conspiratorially at Hilda so that the proprietoress cannot see, she ushers her friend out of the haberdashery and back out onto the busy Whitechapel street outside with a cheery goodbye to Mrs. Minkin.
*A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.
**Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
***Board wages were monies paid in lieu of meals and were paid in addition to a servant’s normal salary. Often servants were paid board wages when their employer went on holiday, or to London for the season, leaving them behind with no cook t prepare their meals. Some employers paid their servants fair board wages, however most didn’t, and servants often found themselves out of pocket fending for themselves, rather than having meals provided within the household.
****The Lady is one of Britain's longest-running women's magazines. It has been in continuous publication since 1885 and is based in London. It is particularly notable for its classified advertisements for domestic service and child care; it also has extensive listings of holiday properties.
*****Pogroms in the Russian Empire were large-scale, targeted, and repeated anti-Jewish rioting that began in the Nineteenth Century. Pogroms began to occur after Imperial Russia, which previously had very few Jews, acquired territories with large Jewish populations from the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Ottoman Empire from 1772 to 1815. The 1905 pogrom against Jews in Odessa was the most serious pogrom of the period, with reports of up to 2,500 Jews killed. Jews fled Russia, some ending up in London’s east end, which had a reasonably large Jewish community, particularly associated with clothing manufacturing.
******In sewing and haberdashery, notions are small objects or accessories, including items that are sewn or otherwise attached to a finished article, such as buttons, snaps, and collar stays. Notions also include the small tools used in sewing, such as needles, thread, pins, marking pens, elastic, and seam rippers.
*******Created by British industrial chemist and journalist Walter Weldon Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was the first ‘home weeklies’ magazine which supplied dressmaking patterns. Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was first published in 1875 and continued until 1954 when it ceased publication.
********The Eton crop is a type of very short, slicked-down crop hairstyle for women. It became popular during the 1920s because it was ideal to showcase the shape of cloche hats. It was worn by Josephine Baker, among others. The name derives from its similarity to a hairstyle allegedly popular with schoolboys at Eton.
*********”Foy meydl” is Yiddish for “lazy girl”.
**********”Goy” is Yiddish for a gentile, non-Jew.
Mrs. Minkin’s cluttered haberdashers with its bright wallpaper and assortment of notions is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The pretty straw picture hat on the left, decorated with a real fabric ribbon and artificial flowers is an artisan piece and was acquired through Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders miniature shop in the United Kingdom. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. In this case, the straw hat was made by a British artisan. In complete contrast, the hat on the right with its restrained decoration is a mass manufactured hat and came from Melody Jane’s Doll House in the United Kingdom. Contrary to popular belief, fashion at the beginning of the Roaring 20s did not feature the iconic cloche hat as a commonly worn head covering. Although invented by French milliner Caroline Reboux in 1908, the cloche hat did not start to gain popularity until 1922, so even though this story is set in that year, picture hats, a hangover from the pre-war years, were still de rigueur in fashionable society even after this. Although nowhere near as wide, heavy, voluminous or as ornate as the hats worn by women between the turn of the Twentieth Century and the Great War, the picture hats of the 1920s were still wide brimmed, although they were generally made of straw or some lightweight fabric and were decorated with a more restrained touch.
The May-Fayre handkerchief box and the lisle hose box sitting directly behind it come from Shepard’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, who have a dizzying array of packaging pieces from the late 1800s to the 1970s. The Warner Brothers corset box behind them and the corset box sitting on the second shelf to the left were made meticulously by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The box of Wizard tapes on the top shelf to the left and the pink corsetry box on the bottom shelf to the left I acquired from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel as part of a larger collection of 1:12 artisan miniature hats, gloves, accessories and haberdashery goods. Edith’s green leather handbag also comes from Marilyn Bickel’s collection.
The jewellery stand, complete with jewellery comes from a 1:12 miniature supplier in Queensland. The round mirror, which pivots, and features a real piece of mirror was a complimentary gift from the same seller.
The basket in the midground to the right, filled with embroidery items is a 1:12 miniature I have had since I was a teenager. I acquired it from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house accessories.
The Superior Quality buttons on cards in the foreground next to the cash register are in truth tiny beads. They, along with basket of rolled fabrics in the left midground, the spools of cottons and the balls of wool in the basket on the right all come from various online shops who sell dollhouse miniatures.
The brightly shining cash register was supplied by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in the United Kingdom.
The mahogany stained chest of drawers on which the hats, jewellery, mirror and boxes stand I have had since I was around ten years old.
Back in 1980 I was taught color theory by Peter Jones, and I also took several painting classes under his tutelage. During the summer of 1982 I painted the exterior of the old home he had purchased.
I learned many things from Peter. My love for color. My affinity for still life. and my desire to connect my work with those who came before me.
By chance today I was back in the old town where I once lived and I took my wife to see the house on which I once toiled under the hot sun. Then along came Peter from his morning walk.
Peter is a prolific painter of still life who shows all over the world. He is a designer and teacher who studied under the likes of Philip Guston. Although we did not always agree I have to say that Peter was one of the most influential instructors I have ever had. And after 30 years, not much has changed.
Peter naturally assumed the classic non-pose pose when I spontaneously asked him for a photograph.
There are obvious reasons to Love London - the ones the tourists flock to the city to find. Big Ben, The London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Chinatown and the list goes on and on.
Are there more meaningful reasons to adore London? In the video above I explore 24 reasons to love London. My reasons aren't superficial, but ones you can't really see or capture with a camera. Do you get a feeling when you are in London?
My List of 24 Meaningful Reasons To Love London
:: It's a city of infinite possibilities.
:: You don't have to travel far to see a famous landmark.
:: London gives you the freedom to be who you are and be what you want to be.
:: London IS the universe and you're in the middle of it.
:: The remarkable feeling of walking over the Thames River at night.
:: The contrast between old and new; what came before and the future.
:: The buzz and the endless energy of London.
:: There are stories and history at every turn you take in London.
:: Sometimes being in London is like walking around in a movie.
:: There are endless creative opportunities in London.
:: The Royal Family (i'm not convinced of this one).
:: No matter how long you've been in London, there is always a new place to discover.
:: There are monuments to everything that ever happened in London.
:: Culturally, London is a mecca. You're blessed with culture no matter where you go.
:: London is as international as it is British.
:: When you're in London, you can choose a life of adventure.
:: You'll never be bored in London even if you have nothing to do.
:: London welcome eccentricity.
:: Old London architecture is some of the finest in the world. The verdict is out regarding modern buildings.
:: There are quiet spots to escape to amongst the hustle and bustle.
:: When you're in London, you imagination expands beyond comprehension.
:: Whether or not you like The Shard, it does have stunning views you shouldn't miss.
:: We might loathe the London Underground, but it's a marvel of engineering.
:: London's double-decker buses are not only iconic, but they're cool.
::
I can easily say everything I learned I learned from London. This city opened my eyes and broadened my way of thinking. During university days, I saw two men kissing in Earl's Court Road outside the Underground Station. I had never seen this before in public. You can imagine my fascination with this public display. Multiple languages, different dress styles and a freedom of expression far surpassed anything I'd experienced elsewhere.
Museums, theatre and even store windows inspired me to learn more and explore creativity beyond what I thought I was capable of achieving. London taught me to push myself further, test my limits and stretch them to new heights.
The American in me says I can be anything I want to be. London taught me I will be anything I want and not care what others think. London touched me at an early age and continues to do so today.
24 Reasons to Love London. What are your reasons to love London?
I help aspiring and established photographers get noticed so they can earn an income from photography or increase sales. My blog, Photographer’s Business Notebook is a wealth of information as is my Mark Paulda’s YouTube Channel. I also offer a variety of books, mentor services and online classes at Mark Paulda Photography Mentor
All images are available as Museum Quality Photographic Prints and Commercial Licensing. Feel free to contact me with any and all inquiries.
Follow My Once In A Lifetime Travel Experiences at Mark Paulda’s Travel Journal
Life-Skills my Dad Taught Me:
▪️How to tie my shoes.
▪️How to speak Yiddish.
▪️How to solder.
▪️How to make Gunpowder.
▪️How to hold a 10x Jewelers Loupe to my eye & look at a Diamond.
▪️How to carve a Pinewood-Derby-Race-Car & weight it to glide faster.
▪️How to find & open a “Concretion” fossil from The Peabody Coal Mines
▪️How to hammer a nail.
▪️How to alert a Cashier if they give you incorrect Change back.
▪️How to tie a Windsor-knot.(half and Full Windsor knot)
▪️How to make melted-cheese-on-Toast-in-a-broiler.
▪️How to get FOUR slices from a bagel.
▪️How to properly /+ expertly Parallel Park a Car.
▪️How to look for diamonds that had fallen out of his pants cuffs onto the bedroom carpet.
▪️
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did, but people will never forget
how you made them feel.”
Maya Angelou
One's life - is not summarized by a tally of those who show up to attend a Funeral, or
sign a Guest Book online,
but- I certainly "know"- that my Dad- the one who showed me so many things,
taught me so many life lessons,
would have wanted,
the "Love"- he put out in the Universe-
to be reciprocated-
by the simple act,
of taking minute to compose
your thoughts, prayers and feelings about
a kinda guy - that-
they don't make, anymore-
Edward Kramer.
History
Early Life
Mera was born to King Ryus and his wife in the kingdom of Xebel, one of the seven Atlantean kingdoms of old which had split off from the main Atlantis during the event that swallowed the continent into the deep.
When Mera was young her mother died, and her father was left alone to raise her. One night Ryus took Mera out of the kingdom to see their ancient enemy Atlantis up close, where she was disgusted by its beauty, believing it didn't deserve such luxury.
Mera was incredibly close with her grandmother - Lammia, who trained the sea beasts used in Xebelian wars. Mera was forged into the perfect warrior over years of her life by her father's chief taskmaster- Leron. and was taught the royal secret of hydrokinesis.
Meeting Aquaman
As a young adult, Mera was promised to be wed to the military chief Nereus by her father. Ryus believed that vengeance should be exacted on Atlantis, and so tasked Mera with finding and assassinating the King of Atlantis, after returning from her job she was to marry Nereus.
Before she left, Mera was given a Shell of Sounds by her father, this device contained a message for Mera from her mother which she was to open after making it to the surface. With fury and hatred in her heart, Mera set out to find and execute the King of Atlantis.
Upon reaching the surface she asked a group of sailors where she could find the King of Atlantis. The sailors showed Mera a newspaper article of the supposed King of Atlantis - Arthur Curry/Aquaman, whom Mera learnt was a hero instead of a tyrant.
Eventually she found him rescuing wounded whales and was completely taken aback by his kindness. Impressed by her hydrokinesis powers, Arthur asked Mera to join him for lunch, which she agreed to. Arthur asked her what the shell around her neck meant, making her realize she hadn't listened to her mother's message yet.
In the message, her mother told Mera that she should make her own path in life instead of following the demands of her kingdom. Taking this advice to heart, Mera gave up on killing Aquaman and instead fell in love with the hero.
The Trench
Having decided to completely abandon Xebel to pursue a life on land with Arthur, Mera helped defend Amnesty Bay when it was attacked by a carnivorous underwater species called The Trench.
Mera and Aquaman followed the Trench, which had taken hostages to the Marianas Trench. There they discovered the predators dying out and desperately trying to feed their children in the remnants of an Atlantean craft.
Mera and Arthur saved the captives, and Aquaman reluctantly caused the Trenches' extinction by pushing a tectonic plate over the Trenches' lair to prevent further loss of human life. After this incident, Arthur and Mera adopted one of the victim's dog and named him Aquadog.
Shortly after, Mera was arrested while buying dog food when she broke the arm of a man who grossly harassed her. Although she initially struggled, Mera willingly gave herself up when she heard police chatter of a hostage situation she thought she could stop.
When the police got to the crime scene, Mera broke out, apprehended the criminal, and fled the scene. Later, a woman named Jennifer Posey, who had seen Mera get arrested, visited the hero and volunteered to get Mera supplies whenever necessary, as she knew what had really happened at the store and supported her.
Atlantean Invasion
While Mera and Aquaman were investigating some abnormal undersea activity with Batman in Gotham City, a giant wave began to emerge and threaten the city. Arthur believed that the wave was his brother's doing, following the Atlantean War plans against the surface.
Mera attempted to keep the wave back but was overwhelmed by its size. Arthur went to meet his brother the Ocean Master, who ordered war upon the surface due to a U.S. submarine firing on Atlantis. Ocean Master banished Aquaman and several other members of the Justice League to the Marianas Trench for opposing him, forcing Mera and Cyborg to rescue them.
After the heroes were saved, the Justice League unleashed the Trench to hold back the invading Atlantean army and stop Ocean Master's plot.
With Ocean Master captured and Aquaman restored to the throne, Arthur and Mera realized that the real person behind the war was Arthur's personal advisor and mentor Vulko, who hoped that the incident would incite Aquaman to return to his rightful place in Atlantis.
Return of the Dead King
Sometime after the invasion, Mera resided in Amnesty Bay, as she knew a princess of Xebel would not be welcomed in the kingdom of Atlantis. However, she was discovered and arrested for her previous assault charge. Mera fled from the police but encountered a mysterious man, who used ice manipulation to knock her unconscious.
Mera later woke up on a boat outside the Bermuda Triangle. Her kidnapper told her that he was the man who designed the imprisonment of Xebel, as he was Atlan the first King of Atlantis. Atlan wanted to use Mera to bypass Xebel's security. However, she escaped and attempted to warn the underwater city's inhabitants of the impending threat.
Upon getting to the bottom of Xebel she was greeted by Nereus, her former fiance, who asked her where she had been all those years.
Mera was deemed a traitor by Nereus after she told him about what had happened during her time on the surface. Before Mera could be arrested, Atlan broke through the barrier and froze all the people in Xebel including Mera.
Aquaman soon broke Mera out of her ice prison and began fighting Atlan while Mera began freeing the soldiers of Xebel. However, despite all this, the Xebelians sided with Atlan anyway as they saw him as their true king, forcing Aquaman and Mera to leave Xebel. Arthur and Mera attempted to warn Atlantis of the villainous king's return, but Aquaman was sent into a coma during a coincidental separate attack by the Scavenger. With their hero incapacitated and without a leader, Atlantis fell to Atlan.
Mera was imprisoned for six months, often going days without water as punishment for her escape attempts. Eventually Arthur returned and, together, he and Mera led a revolt and freed all of the imprisoned Atlanteans. Arthur forced Atlan into a lava bed where the old king melted away.
With their master defeated, Nereus and the Xebelians fled back to Xebel. As the threat was averted, Mera returned to Amnesty Bay to live her life of isolation but soon decided to rule alongside her partner, believing she could rise above the prejudice.
However, as she expected, she faced opposition. She would later survive an assassination attempt by xenophobic assailants loyal to Ocean Master and eventually brought them to justice.
Siren and the Coven
While investigating a collection of mysterious structures that appeared to kill anything they touched, Mera was kidnapped and held hostage by her sister Hila A.K.A. the Siren, and the Coven of Thule, who were behind the structures' sudden appearances.
The Coven were Atlantean warlocks who split Atlantis into two dimensions, where they could prepare for an invasion. Siren stole Mera's appearance using magic and ruled Atlantis for several months while she was captured, weakening it for the invasion.
However, eventually, Mera was able to break free and defeat her sister with the help of Garth, Tula, Swatt and Murk. With the help of their allies Mera and Arthur were able to destroy the Coven, ending their invasion.
Relations Collapse
Some time afterwards, Arthur asked Mera to be the face of the political campaign between Atlantis and the Surface World, which she accepted. Mera decided to fully embrace her new role as she donned the same Atlantean Chainmail as Arthur and began calling herself "Aquawoman", but this moniker was short lived.
While Wally West, the original Kid Flash, was escaping the Speed Force in what could be described as his "rebirth", Mera was brought to Paradise Island where Arthur proposed to her and the two became engaged.
Knowing of their engagement, Aquaman's arch nemesis Black Manta attempted to kill Mera to hurt Arthur. Arthur was able to defeat Manta, however the entire situation caused Spindrift - the facility where their fight was held - to lose its status as an embassy.
Due to this Mera and Aquaman traveled to the White House to discuss the problem with the President. Upon arrival, Arthur was arrested due to an American ship called the Pontchartrain being attacked by a group of "Atlanteans".
As tensions grew worse between Atlantis and the Surface World, Mera broke Arthur out of prison against his wishes. The pair fought off an entire U.S. battalion until Superman arrived on behalf of the government to stop them. Aquaman and Mera retreated into the water, but not before Superman encouraged them to fix the mess that had been created.
Arthur Usurped
At some point, it became clear that the people of Atlantis were displeased with Arthur and were planning a revolution to replace him with Corum Rath. After the coup started, Mera witnessed Arthur being seemingly killed by Atlantean soldiers and, for a period of time after this, went into a phase of mourning at the Curry lighthouse.
However this was short lived as Tula told her Arthur was possibly alive. Upon hearing this, Mera traveled to Atlantis where she used her powers for days, attempting to break through the Crown of Thorns, the invisible, magical barrier that had been placed around Atlantis.
Mera and the Justice League
Mera, while attempting to shatter the dome keeping her from her fiancé, was confronted by the Justice League due to the massive tidal waves she had unintentionally caused by her attacking the Crown of Thorns. After a lengthy battle between herself and the team, she eventually calmed down after hearing that her actions threatened millions of civilians.
Impressed by the extent of Mera's hydrokinetic abilities and her excellent skills in combat, Batman invited Mera to join the League as a temporary replacement for Aquaman until they could find a way to help him.
While working as a member of the League, Mera had a number of adventures on the surface world. She joined them in battle with Shirak, and also faced the time-displaced descendants of the Justice League. This undertaking led to Mera's encounter with her daughter from a possible future, Serenity.
The descendants of the League traveled back to the past in order to prevent the uprising of The Sovereign who had ravaged their futures.
Returning to rescuing Aquaman from the man who usurped their kingdom, Mera approached Garth - the former Aqualad - and pleaded with him to use his potent magical abilities against the Crown of Thorns. Knowing what was at stake, Garth agreed to help Mera bring down the Crown.
Mera successfully infiltrated Atlantis using a magic necklace Garth gave her, but the the item had an unexpected side effect that permanently removed her ability to breathe underwater, forcing her to flee to the surface.
During the invasion of the Dark Knights of the Dark Multiverse, Mera and the rest of Atlantis were changed into fish monsters known as Dead Water by the Drowned. She was returned to normal when the Dark Knights were defeated by the Justice League, with Aquaman, alive, among them.
Reclaiming the Throne
Mera survived another assassination attempted, this time by the villainous Eel. The assassin was hired by Corum Rath, the current ruler of Atlantis, who was threatened by the former queen's attempt to depose him.
Mera Queen of Atlantis
Mera also lost a fight to Ocean Master, having returned from his multi-year absence and declared that instead he would depose Corum Rath and take his rightful place as Atlantis' ruler.
After some level-headed discussion, the enemies decided to team up against their common foe.
Mera and Orm worked together to convince Nereus, Mera's ex-fiance and head of the Xebelian military, to aid them in deposing Rath. Nereus reluctantly agreed to help, but only if Orm was assured to get the throne, since he did not trust Mera.
In an attempt to show her worth through combat, Mera challenged Orm to a fight in a Xebelian arena where, by the skin of her teeth, using everything she had, managed to best the Ocean Master and become the true heir to the Atlantean throne.
In the months since Mera's departure Atlantis grew worse. Corum Rath had been corrupted by the Abyssal Dark, a foul magic which helped build Atlantis.
The dark transformed Corum into a hideous creature hell-bent on the destruction of Atlantis as he believed Atlantis could only be great again if it were reborn in the ashes of tradition.
Aquaman, working as a freedom fighter, led a last resort attack against the mad king in which his trident was shattered by the dictator.
When all seemed lost Mera arrived with the war hosts of Xebel to even the fight against Rath and his forces. In the final fight, Rath was defeated and his magic corrupted, turning him into a fish. Taking pity on him, Aquaman used his powers to commanded him to leave Atlantis and continue his new life among the other fish.
While celebrating their victory, all of a sudden the ground began to shake and Atlantis began to rise. Arthur told Mera that during his fight with the Dark Multiverse invaders he had worn a set of the reality-altering Tenth Metal armor and made a wish.
He had wished for a place that existed between the two worlds of land and sea, a place where he could live his life happily. Arthur's wish had been granted in the worst possible way, Atlantis had risen out of the water and onto the land.
The Suicide Squad Strikes
Sitting directly in the middle of Europe and the United States, Atlantis was immediately viewed with caution by the surface dwellers, many nations preparing for war.
Determined to prove that Atlantis meant no harm, Mera invited the Secretary of the United States to attend her coronation as Queen.
After her coronation, Queen Mera spent no time sitting idly in her throne waiting for her problems to sort themselves out, immediately scheduling a private meeting with U.S. ambassadors in order to quell the fear and distrust felt by many on the surface world. She also tasked many of her laborers to rebuild the parts of Atlantis destroyed during the civil war.
During the coronation, a secret penal black-ops team known as the Suicide Squad was sent by American xenophobic extremist Admiral Meddinghouse to destroy the kingdom.
Fortunately, Aquaman caught wind of this and led his former Undercurrent forces against the Squad. Disgusted that a member of the U.S. Government was attempting to destroy her city, Mera rose the water levels around America's coasts, threatening to sink America into the deep if they did not back down.
Fortunately Aquaman was able to stop the Squad and, in the aftermath, America and Atlantis returned to their fragile state of alliance. Admiral Meddinghouse was swiftly arrested on charges of high treason for sanctioning the mission.
Drowned Earth
Sometime after Mera's coronation as queen, the waters began to rise once again. However anyone who touched the water was turned into an aggressive sea beast hellbent on destruction.
Mera evacuated the civilians into the upper part of the city while Murk and the Drift attempted to hold off the infected. Ondine informed Mera that the oceans were rising all across the globe, with both humans and Atlanteans facing extinction.
After comforting some civilians, Mera contacted the Hall of Justice to see who of Earth's heroes remained alive. After a moment Batman answered her call and told her that Arthur had gone missing during a mission to the Arctic six hours prior and that the current crisis was probably alien in nature.
Mera held back the water from Atlantis as much as she could but failed to contain it all, and most of Atlantis' citizens were transformed into sea beasts. Out of options and time, Mera headed to the highest spire of Atlantis where Orm was kept locked away. Breaking through the wall of his cell she asked him for help, when he agreed she gave the Ocean Master his trident back and the two formed another uneasy alliance.
Mera and Orm began fighting their way outside of the city, eventually making it to the memorial to the dead kings of Atlantis. There, a man named Captain Gall introduced himself as an alien sea god and one of the three leaders of the invasion known as the Triumvirate of Sea Gods.
Gall instantly overwhelmed the pair, forcing Orm to transform into one of the sea-changed before Mera escaped.
Mera traveled across the globe until she found Superman and the Flash being chased by sea-changed heroes. After saving the pair from the clutches of Swamp Thing, she used a magical crown she acquired to teleport them to the location of an Atlantean weapon that could stop the invasion.
Discovering they were too late, Mera, Flash and Superman were met by Black Manta, who revealed that it was him and his allies in the Legion of Doom who had summoned the Triumvirate to Earth.
Mother Shark
When Mother Shark restores Arthur Curry's memories, it is revealed that Arthur actually survived the alien invasion and returned to Mera. However, they kept it a secret from the rest of Atlantis.
Mera stops them from being romantic to talk about the politics of Atlantis and how the Widowhood wants her to marry. Arthur confesses his love for Mera once again, again proposing they get married, but Mera is hesitant with all the drama they've endured. However, she then reveals she's pregnant.
Arthur affirms that he loves both Mera and their unborn child but, afraid that he won't be able to give his child the life it deserves, asks to go home and think. Mera, unhappy that she and her love don't seem to be on the same page, loses control, attacks Arthur, and is later found by the Widowhood and Atlantean guards.
Amnesty,Finale: Xebel's Daughter
As Mera's pregnancy progressed, Arthur returned to life and Amnesty Bay, however, he did not go to Mera nor she to him. Arthur's nemesis Black Manta destroyed an ancient Atlantean historical site to draw Mera to the surface, where she and Aquaman met and wordlessly reconciled.
Manta attacked the pair with Mecha Manta, provided by Lex Luthor. Mera and Arthur's new sidekick Jackson Hyde destroyed Mecha Manta with a giant electrified hydrokinetic construct of her, but the huge amounts of power she was forced to use put her in a coma.
She was rushed to an Atlantean hospital and gave birth shortly afterwards to a baby girl, who was named Andy.
The Wedding
Mera reawakens after 10 months in a coma. With the ruse of a fake wedding to Vulko she calls to Atlantis the leaders of the 7 underwater kingdoms. Prior to the wedding, she has the entire widowhood arrested.
Once all 7 kingdoms are assembled, to their surprise, Mera announces that she was dissolving the Atlantean monarchy and that she intended to hand power to the people. Orm attempts to take power for himself, however, Orm and his forces are stopped by Aquaman, assisted by the Justice league and the Sea gods.
Following this, Mera finally embraces her daughter, as she and Arthur settle down in Amnesty Bay. Soon afterwards Mera and Arthur marry in the presence of their family and friends, in what was originally planned as a welcome back party for her.
Following the abolition of the monarchy, Arthur and Mera intended to hold themselves apart from Atlantis to allow the city to govern itself, but they were forced to intervene when the Frost King's forces attacked the city during what was intended to be their honeymoon.
Arthur journeyed into the city's heating vents to meet with the Fire Tolls who lived in the tunnels below Atlantis, hoping they could be an ally against the Frost King. Originally Mera agreed to stay behind to guard Andy but quickly followed him, arriving in time to save Arthur from a Fire Troll with a hydrokinetic attack.
The Trolls were in awe of this and swore loyalty to her. With her army of Fire Trolls, Mera and Arthur defeated the ice creatures attacking Atlantis.
Aquamen
After abdicating the throne, Mera devoted herself to promoting democracy within Xebel and encouraging unification with Atlantis.
She had some success but was unable to get the Xebelian Guard to end the conscription of children. She also helped Jackson's mother Lucia, a refugee from Xebel, sneak Xebelians out of the city and secretly settled them in Amnesty Bay without Arthur's knowledge.
Mera was scheduled to speak at a peace conference in Xebel while Arthur was away on a mission to Mars. Jackson was framed for a terrorist attack and Mera helped him escape the city. Mera attended the conference as planned, which was attacked by a Xebelian terrorist group called the Xebelian Liberation Front.
She and the other delegates were saved by Jackson, Lucia and Lucia's secret daughter Delilah, but Lucia was critically injured and left in a coma. Mera gave an impassioned speech saying that they owed it to future generations to try to make a better world.
Orm attacked the United Nations Building but was foiled and captured by Arthur and Jackson. Shortly afterward, Jackson called Mera and told her that Arthur was secretly working with Black Manta and he needed to speak to the entire Aquaman Family.
He also asked her to bring an expert in Atlantean biology, so brought Stephen Shin in to consult. Jackson had brought the dead body of a man that Black Manta had supposedly killed and subsequently autopsied in Paris, and told them that when he had tried to arrest Manta for murder, Arthur had stopped him.
Garth and Tula believed that Arthur was trying to trick Black Manta somehow, but Mera admitted that Arthur had been acting strangely ever since he returned from Mars.
Doctor Shin examined the body and determined that the man had been born Atlantean but had been modified to be half-human, allowing him to survive on land without dehydrating.
He also had a transceiver installed in his brain, and they realized that the dead man had been some kind of deep-cover Atlantean agent. Suddenly Tula received a call from the surface that a house in Ohio had blown up and carbon had been left in the ground. The carvings were ancient Atlantean glyphs which read "Atlantis remembers" and the date of an oil spill which killed seven Atlanteans.
Mera realized there was more going on than they realized and went to Mars to speak with Frankenstein, who Arthur claimed to have been with while he was away, but Frankenstein told her that Arthur had been on Mars for only three hours and left again, despite being away from home for days.
When she returned home, one of her agents in the Atlantean Guard told her that Arthur and Manta had been spotted on the outskirts of Atlantis. She also learned that Jackson had gone to Orm's cell and tortured him for information, believing that he was behind the Atlantean sleeper agents.
Mera was concerned about Jackson's unusually aggressive and reckless behavior since Lucia was hurt, and called him to try and talk about it, but he would only tell her that he was in Gotham chasing down a lead.
She tracked down Arthur and Manta and demanded to know what was going on. Arthur admitted the truth to her: during his first reign many years ago, an Atlantean general named Mako took him to a hidden vault full of weapons developed for a potential war against the surface, and revealed that he had placed sleeper agents on the surface to retaliate in case the surface ever attacked Atlantis. Arthur had believed he shut the program down, but the sleepers had somehow been activated anyway.
Arthur met with the entire Aquaman Family and told them the truth about everything, including that he was working with Black Manta to stop the sleepers.
During the meeting Arthur revealed that he had lost some of his memories when he died and they had only just started returning, and Tula realized that Mera had been the one who killed him. Arthur told them all that he and Black Manta planned to use Manta's Orichalcum trident to deactivate the sleepers, but to do so they would need a broadcast tower.
Mera brought in Mister Terrific to design the tower, which she and Jackson would create from the waters of the Atlantic Ocean itself.
Mera and Jackson created the tower and began to broadcast the signal, although even with the two of them holding up such a huge construct was a great strain. Black Manta accidentally crashed into the tower while battling Orm's henchman Scavenger and knocked the trident out of position.
This forced Jackson to carry the trident back to the top of the tower and hold it in place, while Mera held up the tower alone. She eventually could no longer do it and the tower collapsed, but they managed to send the deactivation signal.
With the threat of the sleepers neutralized, Arthur gave Mera control over General Mako's vault and told her she could use or destroy the weapons inside as she saw fit. Mera was still angry with him for keeping secrets and lying to her, but before they could talk about it Arthur was called away by the Justice League on an emergency.
He left, promising they would talk when he got back. In the vault, Mera found a gauntlet which she discovered allowed her to use her hydrokinesis to heal.
The surface governments began debating a response to the attacks by the sleepers. Mera listened in on the meeting with hidden bugs, but just as they were about to vote to attack Atlantis, the world leaders all simultaneously received reports that the entire Justice League, including Arthur, were dead. Mera went to the dock outside the Curry Lighthouse to grieve, and Jackson came to comfort her.
Powers and abilities
As a Xebellian (a sub-race of Atlanteans from Xebel), she shares the common abilities of superhuman strength, speed, durability, and possesses the ability to breathe underwater. While on dry land, she possesses more acute senses that including limited night vision from her enhanced sight and more acute hearing compared to ordinary humans. In addition to her natural physical abilities, she possesses powerful hydrokinetic powers (called aquakinesis), allowing her to control bodies of water, create "hard water" constructs, and drawing water from other forms, including human beings. Her hydrokinetic powers also allow her to sense bodies of water, including what's in them. According to Corum Rath, she is considered perhaps the most powerful high-functioning aqua-kinetic ever recorded in the history of Atlantis.
In addition to her natural and hydrokinetic abilities, Mera is also an extremely proficient warrior; she is an expert in Atlantean-related martial arts and use of weaponry,[40] being skilled enough to battle Ocean Master in single combat. Mera was also trained in assassination and is considered a natural, proficient leader.
Weaknesses
As a natural-born Atlantean, Mera is prone to dehydration at a faster rate compared to ordinary human beings while on the surface. Powerful artifacts and strong users of telekinetic-related abilities (i.e. cryokinesis) can also resist and even negate her aquakinetic powers. Due to her abilities working through telekinetic connections, material that negates telepathic connections also disrupts her hydrokinetic powers. Earlier stories also placed some limits on her abilities such as susceptibility to lead.
⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽
_____________________________
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
Notable aliases: Aquawoman
Dead Water
Princess of Xebel
Queen of Atlantis
Publisher: DC
First appearance: Aquaman #11 (September 1963)
Created by: Jack Miller (Writer)
Nick Cardy (Artist)
Mera last seen in BP 2021 Day 32!
About a “Traveling Artist” – Jayson Yeoh
Self-taught artist Jayson Yeoh has a passion for art since young. His pursuit for art creation is relentless and never wavers. A skilled watercolourist, he is always obsessed with the magical quality and versatility of this water media.
Over the years, through his continuous exploration and practice, Jayson has developed a distinctive personal style. His works clearly demonstrate an artistic language unique to himself.
To him, life’s surroundings and the vast nature are his best teachers. They provide him with unlimited source of inspirations and creative sparks.
Jayson loves to travel and always bring with him his sketchbooks and art tools.
Sketching while traveling becomes an important part of his travel itinerary; and is one of the main catalysts for his constant travels.
He has recorded in his sketchbooks, many beautiful artworks and sketches, notes and information, as well as countless new creative ideas!
‘Sketching while traveling’ has enabled him to walk out of the studio and his own limitations, while opened up limitless possibilities.
It also taught him valuable lessons – to observe the world, to know the world, and to create the worlds he sees through his own eyes.
‘Sketching while traveling’ is a journey for enlightenment and knowledge. It is also an alternative method to treasure a memory by in-depth understanding, both visually and audibly.
To Jayson, the ultimate objectives of traveling and sketching are not the artworks created or the opportunity to see magnificent landscapes and rivers, but his interactions with the environment and the community, his means of observing the world, and those people and things, which had touched him one way or another along the journey. They not only broadened his horizons, but also enriched his personal feelings.
Such experiences make him grow as an artist to create better works, and at the same time encourage him to keep moving towards his artistic journey.
She taught me a thing or two, about saying goodbye...
about closing my eyes...
and about taking refreshing breaths that rekindle the memories of when we first said...
...hello
(Setup shot.)
Lighting/Setup Info
- SB600 at 24mm zoom and 1/16 power level with green gel in a 15-inch Lastolite Ezybox. Positioned on-axis about 5-feet high and about 1-foot behind subject. (Rim Light)
- SB80DX at 24mm zoom and 1/16 power level, gridded with full CTO gel. Positioned camera-left about 4.5-feet high and about 6-feet from subject. (Key Light)
- Cybersyncs.
- The final image was shot with a green gel as a rim light and a CTO gel on the key (as stated in the lighting notes above). It looked good, but the look and feel of the shot was calling out for some color adjustments (and I just didn't feel like swapping gels and trying to nail the shot again), so I made white balance adjustments in the RAW editor and then in Photoshop I did a split-toned overlay to dial-in the colors I was looking for.
Street portrait taken during a workshop taught by National Geographic photographer Massimo Basano, and photographer and documentary film maker Myriam Casper.
Part of the reason for me doing this workshop was to get some help with better ways to ask people if I can take their pictures (along with anything else they were willing to teach us :) ). They did give really good tips and advice and I will take some time to get used to it, but all very fun and well worth the trip. Now here is the irony of the day:
I saw this guy and told him I liked his glasses (they are cool... but not for me lol), "do you mind if I take a couple pictures of you?" He said, "Really? OK" Then I started taking some shots, and the rest of the group flocked in. He was very good natured about it. And then Myriam later told me as we moved down the street that she saw the guy and felt a little too intimidated to ask him if we could take pictures; and then I there I went and asked him. The best part is he offered me his glasses as we left. I told him they are much better on him. And that is true.