View allAll Photos Tagged traceability
When I first started taking photos I took so many, wanting to record everything, every moment. This wave and the way the light hits it is different than wave that came before it and the one that came after it. Like the changing expressions on my darlings faces how can I record them all, it's impossible. Now I just take a few frames and content myself that the rest are not mine to have.
52 Weeks no.30 - Prime lens
ODC - Traces of the past
Hereios - Surface tension
Every speck of mud tells a story of paths explored and adventures embraced. 🚲💫 #Wanderlust #CycleDiaries
Taken @ Bella's Lullaby.
I shot this at the Seymour Marine Discovery Center in Santa Cruz. One of the cooler exhibits was a tank full of these guys, the largest ones were about an inch in diameter.
texture from www.flickr.com/photos/darkwood67/
NS 8114 takes empties west on the Dry Fork Branch toward Iaeger, West Virginia crossing over the massive Trace Fork Bridge near Amonate, Va.
Summer grass,
all the warriors are,
but the remains of dreams
― Matsuo Bashō
♫ Nazareth - Hair of the Dog (Pablo)
♫ Elefantes - Oigo Tus Pasos (Isa)
♫ Incendios de nieve · Love of Lesbian (Paco)
“How I wish I was like the water,
Flowing so freely with every drop
Let my every emotion wonder,
No need to start, nor even stop
How I wish I was like the fire,
Burning with every flame up
Leaving a trace of hot desire
As a Phoenix raises its' wings up
How I wish I was like the earth,
Raising each flower from the ground
Seeing the beauty of death and birth
And then returning to the ground
How I wish I was like the wind,
Hearing each whisper, sound and thought
A lonesome and wandering little wind,
Shattering all that has been sought
Oh, how I wish I was where you are,
Not separated by empty space, so far
It seems like we're galaxies apart,
But we find hope within our heart
And how I wish I was all of the above,
So I can come below and yet forget,
The beauty of angels which come down like a dove
And demons who love with no regret.”
― Virgil Kalyana Mittata Iordache
Pondicherry has a fascinaitng history. It was the only French colony in India until 1954. There is still signs of the old French Quarter which I found intriguing. For what ever reasons, I have found myself living by French Quarters during my life.
It began when I served in Vietnam and saw the beautiful buildings that the French left behind. Then I had the pleasure of living in New Orlean's French Quarter for a while. I love the touch of elegance that they left in Asian countries which were already so very charming. I also love old decaying buildings which have many stories to tell. Thus, I felt compelled to take a picture of this old building on a rue in Pondicherry.