Joe's weekly spa day, nails, ears, weight, and overall check, instantly turned into a UFC match today!

Joe gets the "Zoomies", like many dogs do. I believe it's a buildup of positive energy, happy chemicals, and hormones. They get to an uncontrollable level and need to be released or release themselves. The first couple times, after I just rescued him, I honestly thought he was possessed. We were playing on the floor, and he started coming at me like he was bat shit crazy! Now it's pretty easy to spot the onset and get him safely outside into the yard where he runs so fast it's funny. His back feet are in front of him, and his front feet are behind him. His eyes get wild and he's completely uncontrollable.

He's always pretty excited and enthusiastic when I get everything ready. The second he started flying towards me today I knew...for whatever reason, I decided it's been a while since I physically controlled, restrained, and dominated him without either of us getting injured. Not an easy task when there's arms, legs, hands, and feet flailing wildly around with a wide-open mouth of teeth in the mix. I think we both needed the physical exertion as well as the interaction. An hour later, we're both winded, bruised, and drained. And we still need to trim his nails...

This ice cream stand gone bust was in the middle of nowhere on a small road in Massachusetts. After photographing it, I had an uncontrollable urge to have an ice cream cone...which was satisfied about an hour later. I have respect for people who give their dreams a try. Shot using a Photon plastic 120 camera on Bergger Pancro 400 film.

At 0940 local on July 13, five of us aboard C-GFBR lifted off from runway 16 at Greenbank Airport (CNP8) near Uxbridge, Ontario.

The Antonov An-2PD-5 biplane's 1,000 horsepower radial engine quickly got us up to 3,000 feet, then the cabin began filling with smoke.

From my seat at the rear of the cabin, I saw that the cockpit windows were coated with engine oil. The aircraft's owner and pilot told us that we had to return to Greenbank. Using the sliding windows on each side of the cockpit, he skillfully navigated us back to the airport.

This photo was taken as we descended through 1,800 feet at 0950.

Upon touching down on 16 at 0953, the aircraft slid uncontrollably (thanks to oil coated tires) off the 2,700 grass strip into a culvert before slamming into the embankment that borders the airfield.

We all sustained minor cuts and bruises, but exited the aircraft before numerous fire trucks, ambulances and police cars arrived.

Details about the accident are available here:

asn.flightsafety.org/wikibase/408705

Age of Innocence, Ink and Crayon, Li Xin, 2021

Age of Innocence

written by Ying Yun

The most amazing thing in Li’s drawing is the absolute freedom that he has brought to what he has been doing.

Without a formal training in art, Li has shown his talents in all over his drawings since the first one he did. In the earlier days most of his drawings were study after modern masters, but the outbursts of uncontrollable creativity impelled him to find his own imageries to realize his own vision: still, dreamlike, and enigmatic, through extracting, restructuring, and distorting the elements from the original works.

As he rediscovered the long-lost interest in drawing this February, he has been driven by the burst of passion again and unstoppably. He draws with limited mediums. Many of his interesting art works were born out of Q-tips and marker pens. Now he has been exploring and experimenting with brushes, inks, and a box of crayons he found on a staircase to his home after a walk.

Age of Innocence is a drawing full of nostalgia of the fading youth. The washed ink to light and delicate gray spreads into a filmy layer pregnant with melancholy moods. In the center, the little girl in black minidress, faceless, is surrounded by those impressionistic colorful dabs which are overlapped or invaded by white ones, as if dissolving into the gray and emptiness, or oblivion.

Our neighbors have two students from Korea staying with them, so we took them to the Columbia Gorge for a little sightseeing. As the winds whipped around them at 100mph (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration - but it was STRONG) and they almost blew into the Gorge, they managed to pose for this photo. When we got back into the car and they finished laughing uncontrollably, their first question was, "why is the wind so STRONG?" Answer: "we've got wind we've got rain we've got it all! that's how we roll here in Oregon!"

Soul mates do exist

It took me a while to believe that

But now I know it's true

The reality is you don't get to choose

Who you fall in love with

And you don't get to choose

Who falls in love with you

It's this uncontrollable force

That just happens

And when it does

It changes everything

You know they're your person

When you can be tired together

Or bored together

But every moment is still full of the energy

That's good for your soul

It's in those quiet moments

When nothing much is happening

That you realize how deeply connected you are

You look at each other and there's a comfort

A peace

That you can't find anywhere else

And when you never want them to stop talking

Because hearing them

Makes the world not so quiet anymore

That's when you know

They take care of your heart

And everything about you

That no one else would care to know

They see the parts of you that you try to hide

And they love you even more for them

There's not a single love that is perfect

But there are hundreds that are real

It's messy and beautiful and worth every single second

This is what love is

This is what it means to find your soulmate

Original poem by soulxsigh.

Looking at the empty watercolour paper, I pondered what to paint on the last day of 2019.

Having dipped a little Rose Madder, I held the brush in the air.

So much to express, so little space.

Why not mention something positive?

I have learned a lot about humans and life through my watercolour journey. It started in March, and it's been 9 months. Water is uncontrollable, when creating with water, one has to be well-prepared as it does take lots of skills to control it. At the same time, he has to be ready for an unexpected result. Sometimes it leads to chaos, resulting lots of frustration. However, it may bring you surprise.

Isn't it the same as the uncertainties in life? What can we control in life? Even in sl, we often feel helpless that things don't go as expected.

But one thing that watercolour has taught me is we just have to keep going. Giving up will bring us nothing. All we need is a break. Reflect on what went wrong. Try again and see if we can fix the problems ourselves, or if we need advice.

Over this past year, I haven't been able to paint as well as I had wanted. Nonetheless, I have realized how persistent and determined I can be. And, I have earned lots of encouragement, and friendship.

A friend in SL said he felt that things will become better in 2020. Let's see what life brings to us. :)

The moment my thought stopped racing, I finished another loose flowers painting.

Let's continue to be kind, be humble and persistent. Gossip less, inspire each other more.

You Lost me

It all started with a simple hello and I fell madly in love. I knew my world would never be the same again. I thought you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You said all of the right things and made all the right moves. You said you have never felt this way about anyone before and maybe for some time it was true, but with hindsight, you’re everything I thought you never were. For some reason I thought I knew what real pain felt like, but no amount of time could prepare me for the excruciating pain I feel because of you. Now I finally know what it feels like when a person means everything to you but you mean absolutely nothing to them. I guess I was the fool for allowing you this close to me.

Getting to know your hearts desires and your fears, was just a few of the exciting times we shared together. There was so many moments I thought to myself…is this really happening? Is it possible to feel this happy with someone? In return I showed you a piece of me that I’ve never showed to anyone before, because I trusted you completely. In my mind I finally found true love…the kind that would last forever and a day. Now all I can think about is everything I gave to you, and that I’ll never get that back.

All the unanswered questions left me paralyzed with fear and uncontrollable tears. Now I’m at a place I thought I’d never be. I am somebody I would have never imagined. The truth is you wanted the best of both worlds, and for some time you had it your way, but making promises you can’t keep is worse than not making promises at all. Someone once said “Sometimes people don’t understand the promises they’re making, when they make them”. Yes, nobody said it will be easy and no one ever said it would be this difficult either, but when you said forever, I guess you meant until you find someone new.

I am trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. I’m questioning everything you ever told me. You lied over and over again, even when you told me I was perfect. So many times you said you are so happy and because I was happy, I thought it must be true, but maybe a happy ever after was never meant to be.

I guess the worst part is knowing now that I was just someone that filled an empty space in time, while you were searching for another. I guess I was just a footnote in your life story, while you were a chapter in mine. An entire chapter on heartache, deception, betrayal and love lost. You never truly loved me, you just didn’t want to be alone and for a while, it felt like love. In retrospect it was just a huge misunderstanding that led to a shattered heart.

In the end you took more than you deserve. I’m absorbing on how to heal myself and I will be stronger than ever before. Someday I will be happy and in love again with the right person who will love me more than I’ve ever imagined. I will look back at us and realize that in the end the pain was such an emotional metamorphous and worth suffering for because I found someone who cares for me, loves me unconditionally in a way that I never experienced before and treasure the feeling of togetherness and true commitment. At this moment in time I still get sad about everything that happened. Every now and then reality sets in and hits me unexpectedly, then I realize everything was true and real for me at least, but that my life is better without you.

Now I’ll erase the messages, delete the numbers, and move on. I’ll have to accept that you are not the person I once thought you were. Yes, it’s hard to forget someone who has given you so much to remember, but every story has an end and in life every ending is just a new beginning.

hõng có zì đễ quan tâm hết

“100% tourist, 0% time space continuum integrity”

“After being fused with the Kanohi Olmak, Vezon went on his many (unintentional) interdimensional adventures. On these trips, he has the uncontrollable urge to hoard everything that looks remotely valuable, with all of the consequences of such actions. This is what led to him getting his hands on the story bible, which he now uses to complete his collection of non-cannon masks.”

This a bit of a joke build that I did based on some derailed conversations with friends. After reading the serials, I always jokingly imagined Vezon to be a Deadpool like character, a loose cannon with some comedy aspects (preferably voiced by Jack Black).

Lush Poses - Brandon - Men Bento Pose Pack

Available at Manly Weekend 6/3-6/5 and Marketplace

DUK - Aero Tanktop & Shorts - Megapack

Available at Store

Barry White and Chris Rock

I got a Basketball Jooooones

I got a Basketball Jooooones, oh baby

Hey, that's Barry White! (an obsession)

(A burning desire) Barry, you want some chicken?

(The undeniable passion)

Aww, you? that singin' stuff

(The love, of someone are some thing)

Y'know you want some chicken!

(Yes, he was a victim... of a Basketball Jones)

In fact, I was a baddest... dribbler in the whole world

(Then one day, his mother bought him a basketball)

And I love that basketball! I took that basketball everywhere I went

You know what? That basketball was like a basketball to me!

C'MON, you cheerleaders.

I got a Basketball Jones (happily)

I got a Basketball Jones ohhh baby ohhhhhh

Wait a minute, y'all not En Vouge!

Where the hell is En Vogue?!

Somebody told me En Vogue was gonna be here

I guess y'all'll do (Yeah...)

So what y'all doin' after the game? C'mon!

(His basketball was like a member of his owwwwn family)

In fact, better looking than my brother Tony

Didn't owe me money, and didn't piss in a bed!

And after the game, I always took a shower wit' my basketball

Every now and then, the basketball gonna pinch my butt

But I didn't mind, cause my and my basketball had guts, clean fun

See I am a victim of a Basketball Jones, I'll take my basketball everywhere

I'll even put my basketball under the PILLOW!

(Maybe that's why you couldn't sleep at night)

SING IT! SING IT! SING IT LIKE YA WANNA!

(Yeah) Eh-eh-eh, act like Puffy's in the audience

(Sing it out!) Would y'all SHUT UP?!

(Ohhhhh, soooounds sooo sweet) B-Barry, don't encourage 'em!

They got a Basketball Jones

See I like to PLAY it, I know a thang... yeah, heh-heh

What kinda Basketball Jones y'all got?! (sing it out!)

I see y'all runnin' after a lime zone

I see ya chasin' Penny around!

Hey, there's a Basketball Jones

Basketball Jones's in the hoouse

Michael Jordan! MICHAEL JORDAN!

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, THE MAN WE CAME OUT TO SEE!

Michael Jordan... why don't you sing?

Sing? I don't sing, that's the other "M.J."

Ohhh, okay, I support you

I go to all your games, and you can't sing a lil' song for a brotha!

I hope you go bald! Oh, you already bald!

Basketball Jooooones, c'mon!

I got a Basketball Jooooones (Tear it up, Chris)

I got a Basketball Jooooones, oh baby (Eat it up!)

Ohhhhhhhhhhh, oh, oh, oh

Was that El Debarge?!

Th-That musta been Smokey Robinson!

WHO THE HELL WAS THAT?!

I guess that was me-e-e-e!

(Baby, baby, baby... it's a craving)

Basketball's a chicken!

(An uncontrollable yearning)

Do y'all hear Barry White?! Do y'all hear Barry White?!

(The overwhelming emotion... to a love for someone are some thing)

I love The Knicks, myself!

(Jones) Hey, is the a basketball in the house?!

IS THERE A BASKETBALL IN THE HOUSE?!

Pat Riley, in the HOOOOUSE!

Mitch Rechman's in the HOOOOUSE!

Scottie Pippen, in the house

Turn it out, without a doubt!

A-Larry Johnson, in the HOOOOUSE!

David Robinson, turn it out

Dennis Rodman, in the house

Wit' green hair, without a doubt, c'mon!

(Gotta Basketball Jones)

Eh, Michael, can your? water?? daughter?? Yolanda? play?!

Don't get mad at me, Michael, I just asked you simple question!

Does your woman got game?!

Alright, alirght, I'll leave you alone then!

You goin' tryin' to be a bully! (You go it!)

Bob Costas's in the HOOOOUSE!

Dr. J, in the HOOOOUSE!

Bill Walten, in the HOOOOUSE!

Sheryl Miller, in the house!

Bugs Bunny, in the house!

Elmer Fudd, in the HOOOOUSE!

Tweety Bird, what 'cha heard?

Pass the word, Tweety Bird

Sylvester, my broth-a

Everybody plays basketball!

Mike Tyson, shoots the ball, (Damn right!)

Against the wall, makes it fall

My mama plays basketball!

Charles Bark-LAY, in the house!

Kenan Anderson, in the HOOOOUSE!

Shawn Kemp, gon' turn it OUUUT!

Jack Nicholson, in the HOOOOUSE!

Courtside, wit-out a doubt!

(He's never gonna give it up! Never walk away!)

Spike Lee, in the HOOOOUSE!

Chillin', without a DOUBT!

From the opoerator's service manual for the John Deere No. 12A Straght-Through Combine:

It is only natural for the owner of a new combine to want to try his machine as early as possible. This results in most new combines being started in the field before the crop is ready for combining. As soon as a binder is seen in the neighbor’s field, the urge to start becomes uncontrollable. When grain is ready for binding, it is not ready for straight combining. No one would think of picking up bundles right after a binder and hauling them in for threshing, yet, in too many instances, the combine is expected to satisfactorily handle grain in the same state of immaturity.

A combine should not be started until the grain is dead ripe, which is usually 7 to 10 days after it is customarily cut with a binder. If the threshed grain feels damp or is easily dented with the fingernail, the moisture content is usually too high for safe storage.

Grain crops containing 14% moisture or less are considered dry enough for safe storage. Arrangements can usually be made at the local grain elevator for necessary moisture tests. The maximum moisture content for safe storage depends upon the crop to be combined and in part upon atmospheric conditions, storage facilities, foreign material in the grain, whether handled in bulk or sacks, and whether the crop is for market or feeding.

The first round in the field is usually the hardest. The forward speed of tractor should be as slow as possible to reduce the volume of material entering machine. The tractor should be run at full throttle to keep the combine mechanism up to full speed thus guarding against slugging and clogging—shift the tractor to a lower gear to obtain slower travel speed but do not throttle down tractor motor.

In certain sections of the country where grain ripens unevenly, and where green weeds present a serious problem, the practice of windrowing is followed. There are advantages as well as disadvantages in this method of harvesting. In the Field Operation, Windrow Pick-Up Method section you will find detailed information on windrowing. Read this very carefully, before deciding upon your method of harvesting.

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'Field'

Camera: Mamiya RB67

Lens: Mamiya-Sekor 3.8/90mm

Film: Ilford Pan F+

Process: FA-1027; 1+14; 5min

Douglas County, Washington

September 2021

You plan, you scheme and you organize: the sky is right the sun is right...*SO* the uncontrollable occurs. For all the fellow railfan, steam folks and photographers in general who had that shot escape because events conspired against them.

Venezia

EDIT:

Plight of the Pantanal: A Wetland on Fire !

The Pantanal is burning uncontrollably. Animals are dying.

Jaguars are dying.

The Pantanal Survival Fund is putting boots on the ground, employing those left jobless due to COVID and lack of tourism, creating fire breaks, putting out fires, buying protective gear, paying for veterinary attention for rescued wildlife, food baskets and so much more.

Learn more via their Go Fund Me page.

Donate to help those on the ground trying to control the fire.

Help raise awareness of the plight.

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Social distancing - Jaguar style.

Jaguars are not known for being social creatures. The typical exceptions being mating pairs and mother with cubs.

Outside of this, still not much is known about how often, when and exactly what happens when jaguars meet. Typically holding large home ranges and low densities means accidentally crossing paths is probably rare. They do communicate with chemical and probably visual signals left for each other.

On an Untamed Jaguars of Pantanal Expedition we have often seen jaguar interactions, sometimes tense, other times surprisingly tolerant. With such a high density of jaguars in this area it's not so surprising they meet each other more often and have to negotiate these complicated interactions.

Here a young female is probably in heat for the first time and has attracted the attention of an old male. Must be nerve racking to suddenly be the focus of a male distinctly larger than herself!

Naun Amable Silva

Canon EOS 7D Mark II

Pantanal, Brazil - Oct 2016

.....one ear is pointing down the other up.

Cuando uno se entrega totalmente a alguien o a algo generalmente deja huellas.

Es el amor,

esa fuerza incontrolable, la que nos hace triunfar.

----

When one surrenders completely to someone or something usually leaves traces.

It is love,

that uncontrollable force that makes us succeed.

AN ANALYTICAL PERSPECTIVE ON THE "ART" ADVENTURE OF HUMANS AND ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

The concept of "art" is the field of creativity, the only feature of being human. As the artistic prowess of Artificial intelligence emerges in a fast-moving world, it raises questions we've never encountered before about what it means to be "human". What kind of a period will "art", which is the result of human concepts such as existence, society, communication, subconscious, emotions, imagination, intuition, love, sensitivity, impulse, instinct, dream, originality and of course, creativity, enter into a period with Artificial intelligence (AI)? With its revolutionary technology that will change production, thinking, lifestyles and the future, will artificial intelligence, which is designed to replace people in other fields of activity, be more creative than humans in the field of art and reach the competence to challenge the artist?

According to Hegel, art carries the spirit of the artist, who is transferred to matter and likens matter to himself. Well, since the products created by machines without a soul today are not generated by an artist, can they carry spirit and meaning?

For years, computer technology has already made an impact and contribution to visual arts with image technologies such as vector, bitmap, 3D, CGI as a tool that creates, processes and changes the image. Today, many smart image generators such as Stable Diffusion, DALL-E, Craiyon, Midjourney, Nightcafe Ai, etc. are software systems that can statistically evaluate themselves over large datasets containing millions of images, train themselves, and produce new images that are not included in the original dataset. Not just images, AI is already being used in other branches of the arts to create music, poetry, sculpture, stories, articles and films.

There are many new questions and concepts such as whether the products created by a system that has human skills but is not human are real works of art, whether programmers and machines will be accepted as artists, whether AI products can be included in the broad and general definition of art. Although there are objections, acceptances, doubts, different opinions, it has been met with great interest by the majority.

First of all, it is necessary to talk about the concepts of “Art” and “Artist”. In its most general definition, art is a reflection of the human mind and cultural evolution, an expression of creativity, way of thinking and imagination. The artist, on the other hand, is the one who makes art with the awareness of "being human", humanizes and shapes life, and realizes the phenomenon of art with action. The artist combines facts with aesthetic elements from a different point of view and records them in social memory. Behind his creative works lie deep stories of man, his age and society. He uses his imagination, patience, enthusiasm and self-sacrificing efforts to embed his passions, memories, dreams, imaginary and abstract ideas, symbols, philosophy and his inner world, the dynamics of the era and society he lives in, with aesthetic expressions. The process of creating the artist's art is complex and difficult, while filtering everything he is affected by and incorporating it into his works. He feels both sadness and happiness most deeply, and experiences his anxiety and pleasure at the highest level.

Art originates from life and human beings and belongs to humans. “Art is an object made by man for man. “ (E.H.Gombrich, The Story of Art) This is a very accurate definition and “Art” is based on a human-made phenomenon that takes its source from the human artist and seeks meaning with its historical, social accumulation and imagination; existence occurs in the unity of human, artist, meaning, aesthetic object and aesthetic taste. In this respect, there is a deep bond of existence between man, art and work of art that complements each other.

The artist searches for the meanings behind artistic intentions and desires and vital phenomena. Since AI is not a living, emotional being, it lacks imagination, the reality of its external world, and the qualities of being human. Unfortunately, those who claim in advance that the products of AI are art, underestimate the artist who realizes the thousands-year-old deep source of art and the artistic production process, and find it unnecessary to question the artist's effort and necessity. Decisions made by those who do not know the depth of the creative process, without entering the enthusiastic world of an artist, are in favor of accepting and affirming AI products without questioning them. We see that the capitalist world, which wants to benefit from the stimulating effect of the trade created by AI products, has great expectations to use this situation in its favor and turn it into money.

The production process of AI is formed by the combination of computer, programmer, data, algorithm, output, aesthetic taste of the receptive subject. Since AI does not perform its actions by focusing on aesthetic values, aesthetic harmony and meaning, the output it produces is only a sensory, aesthetic value uncertain, non-essential, formal object. Because it lacks the subjective point of view and the values of the special creation process in the mind of an artist. The software, which does not take its source from the human mind, does not have emotions, and produces from ready-made data, has the potential to produce likeable outputs. It can even produce outputs, albeit rare, that, by chance, can give aesthetic pleasure and cause emotional and artistic excitement in people. Again, it is the receptive subject himself who adds artistic value to such an output with his artistic disposition, education and dreams. Because, while the output is devoid of a communication basis, an expression to be conveyed and has no artistic value, the perception style, psychological orientation and point of view of the receptive subject who establishes the communication raise the output to the value of an object that gives aesthetic pleasure. The receptive subject participates in the process with its level of perception of the object, aesthetic judgment and creativity, and needs the qualities of its own self and visual capacity. With a subjectivist attitude, he takes the artistic value not from the object but from his own psychology, customizes the object with his own emotions and attributes a meaning to the output. What makes the output of AI valuable is not the qualities of the aesthetic object formed by the activity of an artist, but the way of seeing of the receptive subject.

The work of art is a human creation, the creative subject is the artist. The artist produces by adding meaning to his work, and the visible form has a meaning integrity, a unity of form and content. In his work, the artist formally expresses a reality about life in his work. That is, the meaning is not added after making the work, and the meaning exists as a substance in the mind of the artist before the work takes shape. In the work, the expression to be conveyed without communicating with the receptive subject is already present and ready; all this is hidden in the work as a reality and waits to be seen by a competent receptive subject. This is the process of discovery of the work of a spirit that repeats the aesthetic creation formed in the artist's soul. The receptive subject, who judges the output of artificial intelligence, lacks the pleasure and effort of creating, perceiving and recreating the expression level of the artist, that is, the human being. Because understanding and making sense of a work of art requires an effort like the creativity of the artist.

E.H. “We cannot hope to understand a work of art if we do not have the ability to share that sense of liberation and triumph that the artist has over his finished work,” says Gombrich.

We see that while art is realized with the connection of the artist, the work (aesthetics) and the receptive subject (aesthetic interest), the process in the AI product takes place with the connection of data, algorithm, object (sensory) and receptive subject (aesthetic interest).

Human art is the aesthetic relationship between man and objective reality and includes artistic reality. Its source is life, human, society, created by the artist, it focuses on the whole process and is holistic. It is based on the reproduction of the aesthetic values that the artist brings to the object by the receptive subject, the connections and interaction with the aesthetic judgment. It is directly and tightly connected to human practice, society and social life. The work of art is personal, original, and the artist has a compositional knowledge and skill that will require much more than repetitions, different blending and attachment techniques in AI output. In a way that takes its origins from life and focuses on the soul and meaning, art considers beauty as a unity of values. Like artificial intelligence, it focuses not only on the result, but also on the whole process, and this is what we need to distinguish.

Although AI is capable of creativity, this does not mean that it is an artist. Likewise, neither a programmer nor an algorithm is an artist. Because their production is outside of the vital, emotional, spiritual and meaning integrity we have explained above, they produce automatically and with commands. The algorithm does not create the object by considering artistic values, qualities and concerns, that is, the algorithm is not aware that it is dealing with art, so it is not conscious of reality. It scans the database and generates predictive compositions with the ability to fuse, add, subtract, associate and learn.

Artificial intelligence products can only be at the limit of the general definition of art. The creation process is automatic and is not identical with human art with the layers of existence it has; the source, formation and result are realized by a completely different method. Therefore, although it is ostentatious and surprising, it is an incomplete and experimental art (like) approach that is not competent.

Based on the context of reality, the search for meaning, the layers of existence and the social source of life, it would be appropriate to call it "Human Art" because it represents human beings, and "Artificial Intelligence Art" because it is created by codes. Because we cannot see artificial intelligence, which enters art as a separate actor, as if it is making productions of the same value as human beings and art. What makes human art valuable is that it tells its own story and the struggle for existence with the accumulation of thousands of years of creation process.

As AI enters more and more scientific, everyday and artistic and human fields, we have to make the rules, boundaries and definitions of human domain, arrangements, positioning and criticisms that include what human being is, to remain "human". The important thing is to create and place concepts that will preserve the depth, value, originality, creativity and freedom of the human domain. While doing this, we should determine the roles by defining the field that artificial intelligence, that is, the machine can have. For this reason, the categorical distinction was made as "Human Art" and "AI Art" because it was based on codes. To make both the same, to say that both achieve similar goals in different ways, is a disrespectful, unfair approach to art and the artist and should be objected to.

Of course, AI will enable artists to create new and original products through collaborative work as a resource to benefit from. With artificial intelligence in artistic creation, the artist can expand his creativity, get inspired, try new things, and also think of artificial intelligence as a collaboration tool. Even if the artist is involved in the creation process of the products created by this collaboration, even if he has the initiative, the use of AI based on the source codes will bring about discussions.

The approach to artificial intelligence products will also mean the sincerity exam of people. The artist and no one should not escape easily, and try to show stolen ideas or directly as his own work. It should not make an effort to reflect worthless products as if they are valuable.

Deciding whether the output has value and the quality of its connection with the art means reaching the big problem area in art. A wide variety of factors should be taken into account while making an aesthetic interpretation. Knowing who the work belongs to is also a factor that will affect our decision. Interpreting a work that is not clear by whom it was generated may cause exaggeration or vice versa, underestimation and incompleteness. Evaluating an object as artistic and beautiful is relative (apart from reconciliation with assumptions that make aesthetic judgment general and based on common feeling) and is difficult, but this is a mysterious and normal state of art.

Artificial intelligence will be an encouraging and supportive force with its ease not only for artists, but for everyone. In addition, the copyright problem of the entries that make up the database should be solved, and the rights of the artist and everyone else who does not want to be in the database should be respected.

It should never be forgotten that; The importance of painters and painting did not decrease with the invention of photography, the transformation of smart phones into talented cameras did not turn everyone into a photographer, AI cannot turn anyone into miraculous and fantastic artists, nor transfer talents.

While the subject is being discussed, painting is generally focused on because of its popularity. But how do we react when AI produces an image with details and visual quality indistinguishable from a real photograph? Especially when we compare it with documentary photography, the situation will become more complicated. At this stage, the values shaped in our aesthetic, emotional and imaginary world, which we judge the paintings, will not be enough. We will need to ask whether the photograph is based on objective reality, and we will build our judgmental values after the definition of reality. Because, as a document, that photograph is real, it reflects the state of the world while connecting the lived past to the future, it has a place and a story, it is direct, it is a human and social memory and transfers it to other generations. The photograph created by AI has no story, it only depicts unreal scenes with automatic editing, and the composition is created only with the ability to imitate. Such a photograph will not go beyond an image that only arouses technical admiration before the viewer. For this reason, I think that unmanipulated and documentary photography will become more valuable in the future. Because it will never lose its value as a tool that reflects reality and directly reflects events.

Can you consider William Turner's painting "The Slave Ship" separately from the historical, social, reality of the outside world and the dynamics of the artist's inner world? This painting is not just a painting, it is a work that has meanings far beyond the painting. Now let's imagine that a similar picture is generated by artificial intelligence. Even if pictorial values, light and composition are used appropriately, what historical, artistic, cultural, emotional value can it have? In other words, in the background of art, there are stories of life and a context, while artificial art has nothing to tell, it is a storyless phenomenon that is disconnected from the context of reality, as a product of a system under the control of virtual codes, and has no history.

In today's society, communication habits have changed, the world of possibilities has grown, and even magicalized. AI "image generators" give everyone the opportunity to be creative, and thanks to their amazing ability, they make this experience available to millions of people. Even a child who has learned to read and write can accidentally create remarkable products in front of his computer. It does not make anyone who can write keywords to the computer and who does not have artistic personality and creativity an artist and does not include them in art. Millions of people are attracted to this attractive game without age limit and are entertained by its amazing and strange results, as if they have achieved a magical power. It is more accurate to call them "experimental participants". It is a fact that outliers, complex, uncertain, surreal, mystical, imagination-stimulating images attract a lot of attention. Friedrich Schiller and his theory that art is a game come to mind. But in his theory, Schiller meant real art. Besides, art is a much more complex phenomenon than play.

Although the outputs are strange, unencountered, interesting and attractive, as they multiply uncontrollably in the internet environment, they have a high potential to turn into habitual, valueless, artificial, ordinary objects.

It is human beings who will stand against the destructiveness of technology and protect humanity. Being human, despite your shortcomings, is unique. Do we have the human intelligence, virtue, honesty, will, courage and plan to use the future to be a better human being “together” and to create a world based on beauty and equality? While AI becomes human, we never want a role change where people become automatic, ineffective and robotic.

Man interprets and makes sense of life with his art, resists against time, and transfers his relationship with life to the art environment in freedom with his searches and discoveries. Art is formed in reality through "labor" by the artist. All innovations and technological changes should never be allowed to trivialize art and artists. Because Artificial Intelligence lacks the human touch, love, impulses and, in short, a life.

Einstein said, "The criterion of being intelligent is not knowledge but imagination," and reconciling human imagination with intelligence.

akilalparslan.blogspot.com/2023/01/an-analytical-perspect...

But when they are doing controlled burning in the area, your visibility is limited. Looking in the opposite direction, the whole bottom of the canyon was covered with smoke, which was disappointing, but I suppose that it's a necessary evil. Better than a huge, uncontrollable forest fire, for sure!

Incidentally, Hopi Point is the best place to shoot on the South Rim, since you can shoot both East and West. It is one of the stops on the shuttle bus (you can't drive there) and you only have to walk about 1/4 of a mile to get back to the shuttle pickup stop that will take you back to the transfer station. After sunset, the shuttle bus is standing room only, so plan accordingly.

Today's story and sketch by me #1304 Is about the "Oh My Moment" I had when the Spacecraft you see I was testing, lost all power and was hurling uncontrollably toward the Terra Firmer, which in this case the surface of the Tropical Volcanic Planet we call Budahunga. It is one of the many Spacecraft that have crash landed, we are trying to repair and use not only to navigate around Budahunga, but to attempt to escape from here. Until next time Tata the Rod Blog

My medication is making me so moody. Up, down, up down... I'm all over the place. Exhausted and worn out.

Flickr has been good to me. You guys who I've been talking to on a regular basis are beyond awesome, but the pressure. This drive to keep everyone satisfied is breaking me down. I feel like nothing is good enough anymore, nothing is good enough for everyone. I can't stand this pressure. Explore is beginning to become a pain in the ass. I keep checking, hoping to see another picture "make it to the interestingness list." I hate that I see the same picture over and over again on the front page. I hate that real talent is overlooked, having been cast aside over a "hot, young thing". I'm sorry I've been letting you guys down. I just don't know what to do anymore.

I'm ranting. I'm hopelessly under the influence of my emotions. Uncontrollable, helpless...

I need a drink.

Today's story and sketch "by me", I have just arrived at the crash site of a "DHC", dimension hopper chopper piloted by two Gawkers from the Planet Falondi, the Gawker brothers traveled through a dimension time space continuum portal near their goat farm on Falondi without fully reading the dimension jumping operating manual, which would have strongly advised not to use the default dimension jumping setting, which is only a default if you are on the Planet Soorthu where the DHC Kits are manufactured. The Gawkers built the DHC in their barn on Falondi. It took the brothers seventeen years to build the DHC, in their excitement to have finally finished building the DHC and to get away from their stinky goat barn, the Gawker brothers not only didn't read the final Ninety seventh and most important final chapter of the DHC instructions, which strongly recommended before entering the nearest dimension portal, set the auto pilot to the three hour Honolulu tour, and wished the DHC kit builders good luck, and thank you for buying the kit. The Gawkers also by not reading the last chapter, did not read the check list with recommended essential steps before loading the DHC for take off. First recommendation for a successful enjoyable flight, starting with good hygiene, a nice hot shower, a fresh clean flight suit, complete first aid kit, at minimum a one month supply of moon pies. The Gawkers first flight erratic behavior started the third week in worm hole nine, while arguing who should have removed the thick shipping protective window coverings, which made looking out into space totally impossible, then blaming the other for not packing beer and moon pies. There flight ended this morning when the DHC ran out of fuel and were hit from behind by an Intergalactic Transporter, then rolled uncontrollably along the side of a military battle cruiser, scraping off most of the heat shield finish, and that thick protective window covering, which made their entire crash a visible experience, as they were shot out through the Playa Beautimus stargate, sent tumbling and rolling across the Mojave Desert at nine hundred miles an hour before resting on top of the palms. Above you see Rescue Randy the most interesting living tissue crash test dummy in the Galaxy arriving to get the Gawkers out of the trees, and who knows after their experience may offer them jobs as test pilots, until next time taa ta the Rod Blog.

The night three years ago from today, in the Ghouta area of Damascus, was a truly unforgettable one, in which Assad's regime caused the massacre of over 1500 civilians with internationally banned chemical weapons. The young girl pictured here was one of the survivors, yet she, like all the other survivors of the brutal horror, was deeply scarred and shocked as a result of the events. As the photographer, it was the most difficult night of my life; I still remember how my hands were shaking uncontrollably as I was holding my camera.

For more detailed information, the link below leads to a documentary that shows what happened on that night in Ghouta:

ازدحام الموت || Death Congestion

Learn how to kill 1,500 persons in 30 minutes

www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhhtmyFUArQ

Date : 21\ 8\ 2013

Ghouta, Damascus, Syria.

Albert was a pollen farmer, some unkind bugs used the derogatory term “pollen dealer”, but Albert didn’t see it that way. His fellow flies wondered why he didn’t just stick with the waste disposal industry, like most of his kin, but Albert was different. He harboured thoughts of being rich, and pollen was the new nectar of the masses. Sure, it was considered illegal to possess more than a certain quantity if you were a fly, but he had considered the risk reward ratio carefully. . He often bemoaned the fact that he didn’t have stripes and therefore the legal right to collect as much pollen as he liked. He understood that if he was found by the bees collecting as much as he did, there would be hell, and a few unfriendly wasps or spiders to pay, but the risk was worth it in his eyes. He had a few small time helper flies, but they were no match for the hymenoptera gang or the spider clan. Their loyalty was also suspect as they would sell his soul for a bit of rotten meat, but such was life on the streets. As long as he appeared to keep below his meagre quota everything would be alright, he had convinced himself of that, but it didn’t stop the nightmares. The nightmares where he was being trussed up by Sid the spider or torn to pieces by Hank the wasp or any one of their enforcers stayed with him. Sometimes it was so bad that he would wake up in a cold sweat, buzzing uncontrollably. That was the price of being a fly farmer in a garden run by bigger and badder bugs.

A Wicked Turn

Acte 22

The Subtle Touch

He went down behind her and she arched back in an attempt to watch what he was up to!

He looked over at their figures image in the mirror, her coronet, necklace, and earrings vividly sparkling in the reflection, like fire on a distant mountain he thought drooling with anticipation…….

He methodically decided to start with her Bracelets….

Holding her left wrist with his left hand, he let his right-hand travel up her squirming figure till he reaches her breast. Cupping it he began to with a slipping motion, massage it through her thin satiny slip.

She curled her figure against her bindings, closed her eyes, and began to whimper and moan lustily, opening her mouth just enough to keep her rings hidden inside!

As his right hand subtly pleaded her breasts, his left hand travelled down to a cuffed diamond bracelet. He began rubbing it up and down her gloved wrist in sync with his right hand, eventually worked it open and slipped it off from around her wrist, tossing it neatly into his pouch.

He repeated the performance on her right wrist as she continued moaning in total satisfaction.

If she noticed her twin bracelets were being removed in the process of having her breasts massaged, she did not appear to care.

Then, playing along with the lady’s game, he fruitlessly felt for her rings, hearing her muffled giggles above him as she squirmed.

“Mmmm,” she said, through gritted teeth not being able to open her mouth due to her rings.

He could see that what she was unable to voice, it was readable in her expression, reflected from the handy mirror!

Then he moved his hands, grasping her by the silken sides of her slip, and began to tickle her mercilessly, she started to uncontrollably giggle, then stated to sputter, finally letting loose with a gasping laugh!

This sent the three sparkling rings she had been holding inside her mouth, spinning out and plopping onto the green silk of her lap, where they slithered down between her knees!

“Dirty Play, Gaston!”

She admonished, snapping her legs closed to hide the rings, tears in her eyes as she laughed out her words…

“That wasn’t how… !

He hushed up her words by quickly plunging his gloved fingers down inside her slip, grasping and kneading her breasts in unison

Her whole being tingling with the exquisite pleasure, made her forget entirely how she had wanted him to play the game with her rings!

But he was now entirely in control of the situation, and she felt her whole figure limply wilt under his command!

He left his right hand inserted down her slip to carry on with the task, subtly extracting his left to then run fingers through her long blonde, luxurious feeling hair, pulling it back behind her head, where it hung down in a gold coloured silken mass!

Figuring if he did, she would lean right back to look up at him!

Which is exactly what she did, playing right into his trick!

Her eyes, though, were still tightly shut, as her focus went off to some erotic location, as she was reeling in the vivid pleasures of her game.

Her green satin gloved fingers tried to adjust her bonds so she could reach back out behind her, and he knew for what and responded appropriately by rising so she could reach her objective.

Then it became his turn to be the one moaning softly through gritted teeth…

He silently thought, while groaning inwardly…

“Easy on the family jewels there, missy!”

“Oh, My Darling Gaston!”

she responded, apparently, hopefully, waiting for a response.

He gave her one, though not verbally…

He leaned against the backside of the chair, getting as close to her as he could!

She began to grope quite furiously and he thought of a monkey he had seen once in the city zoo doing one such number on a banana.

He was also finding it increasingly difficult to keep his mind on the task at hand.

So, he pulled away from her grasp a little, allowing her fingers the barest of touch!

He then gently pulled back her blonde hair, and quickly started caressing her now sweating earlobes, taking advantage of where this lady’s reeling mind was otherwise occupied!

Slowly, carefully stroking up and off, he pulled out the gold hooks attached to her sparkling earrings from each pierced ear.

Freeing both of her lovely long earrings in turn and letting them drop, glimmering into his leather pouch!

He kept on caressing, deeply thrusting his right hand in and along her breasts for several minutes taking precious time with the task as to keep her mind away from what he was accomplishing from behind her trussed up back.

Meanwhile, his left hand moved up into a new position.

Her entire being was squirming, so enraptured and enthralled, that she never even felt him picking up the ends of the thin coronet: lifting oh so carefully, each end of shiny gold braided ends that were woven into her hair, and began gently lifting out each one free!

As he pulled it delicately away, she did not even miss the egg-shaped diamond as it stopped brushing against her sweat glistened brow!

Once he had freed the shimmering piece, he eagerly lifted to admire it!

She broke his trance by purring, opening her eyes as he quickly hid the jewelled coronet!

“Well, my Gaston! I can feel you desire me again, my darling! It has been quite a long time for you also!”

But though she may have felt that something growing between her captor’s legs, she had no inkling that he had been busy lifting her pricey jewelled headpiece!

Nor did she now hear it being dropped in the pouch at her foot!

So, oblivious that her earrings and coronet were gone, the bound, satin slip clad lady, quite seductively began murmuring these words as her fingers continued their gentle free play between his legs.

“You want me don’t you luv!”

She asked this seductively, wistfully as her eyes opened wide and looking up into his, catching him hovering over her, his eyes from the slits in his hood, looking down upon her.

He had stopped fondling her breasts with his right hand and placing that hand on her shoulder was looking down upon her with lust-filled eyes!

But she was entirely misreading the object of his also lustful gaze…

She again closed her eyes with a heavy sigh!

As his eyes went to what he now really wanted from her!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

Canon EOS 6D - f/8 - 1 sec - 100 mm - ISO 200

The "heart shape" (♥) is an ideograph used to express the idea of the "heart" in its metaphorical or symbolic sense as the center of emotion, including affection and love, especially (but not exclusively) romantic love.

The "wounded heart" indicating love sickness came to be depicted as a heart symbol pierced with an arrow (Cupid's), or heart symbol "broken" in two or more pieces.

In classical mythology, Cupid (Latin Cupido, meaning "desire") is the god of desire, erotic love, attraction and affection. He is often portrayed as the son of the love goddess Venus and the war god Mars, and is known in Latin also as Amor ("Love"). His Greek counterpart is Eros.

Eros has as attributes the bow and arrow that represent his source of power: a person, or even a deity, who is shot by Cupid's arrow is filled with uncontrollable desire.

Her name is Maggie and she is a new client to me. This is my first visit. When I first walked in the door, she was barking her head off uncontrollably. And let me tell you she has a huge bark!

I let her out and went in search of the carrots because that is her chosen treat… couldn’t find the carrots for a good 15 minutes. So I had no way to stop the barking. I texted the owner and he proceeded to tell me the carrots are in the garage refrigerator.

Could have used that information 15 minutes ago, but whatever. After pulling out the carrots and using them to gain her trust, this is where we ended up. Food, patience and a soft touch are usually the key with dogs. But thank goodness for treats!!

In Greek mythology the phoenix was a bird that was cyclically reborn, dying in a fiery conflagration and then gaining new life by rising from the ashes of its predecessor—an apt metaphor for the Dutch port city of Rotterdam. On 14 May 1940, Rotterdam fell victim to a massive bombing raid carried out by the German Luftwaffe. In addition to the immediate large-scale destruction, the bombardment resulted in uncontrollable fires that raged for days in an inferno that consumed virtually all of the city centre.

In the face of this catastrophe, the decision was made to accept the devastation as an opportunity for urban renewal. The result is a city with a modern architectural aesthetic that is unique in Europe. Avant-garde commercial buildings, revolutionary living spaces, and large-scale public sculptures compete for attention in the progressive post-modern metropolis.

The photograph above was taken looking east across the Nieuwe Maas River and features the elegant Erasmus Bridge. Opened in 1996, the bridge plays a crucial role in connecting central Rotterdam to the southern neighbourhoods of the city—and in opening up the latter for large scale commercial development.

The two buildings to the right of the bridge are respectively the KPN Tower and the De Rotterdam building, each a stunning architectural statement. Rem Koolhaas, the architect of De Rotterdam, once experimented with a career in film and when designing the structure he reasoned that the most frequent view of the three transparent towers would be from the window of a moving car. As one approaches and then passes the building, the towers separate and merge, almost as if they themselves were in motion. Reinforcing this “motion picture” theme, the glass facade provides endless fascination acting as a projection screen that mirrors the constantly changing moods of the weather.

© Irwin Reynolds, all rights reserved. If you are interested in using one of my images or would like a high quality fine art print, please send me an email (irwinreynolds@me.com)

4/4

Some odd photos again!

The job any camera has to do is to leak light in a controlled and filtered way. When the light leaks in uncontrollably, some surprises are likely to occur. It was no different in case of my FED-5C, that supposedly was letting some light through the counter-resetting feeler (thanks, Ian!).

These are the four images I decided to rescue.

One would expect something different maybe, like visible streaks, marks and such, but it's not the case here. Added some issues with scanning, and, well, tonally the result is really odd, but I think it's still likeable.

*giggles uncontrollably*

Draco relaxed.

A little bit too soon, as it were. He thought he had a stable lead, but behind him - as if shot from a cannon - came Galbatorix.

Draco knew that he stood no chance against Galbatorix's shots. Only one thing remained to do.

He steeled himself and, as fast as he could manage, braked and stopped. Before Galbatorix knew what had happened, Draco put the puck in his back, sending him flying uncontrollably from the track.

He sent a silent thanks to Hagrid for teaching him the dogfighting tactics that could be used on the combat races. He glided leisurely over the finishing line, the crowd roared its approval.

Finally, they had enough cash to buy the spare parts they needed for their vessel. Now they could continue the mission and, perhaps, save the Republic.

Sudden disaster, testing the confidence and calm, is destroyed, the impact of uncontrollable anxiety.

突如其來的災難，考驗著信心與冷靜，是毀滅、衝擊、和無法控制的不安。

EDIT:

Plight of the Pantanal: A Wetland on Fire !

The Pantanal is burning uncontrollably. Animals are dying.

Jaguars are dying.

The Pantanal Survival Fund is putting boots on the ground, employing those left jobless due to COVID and lack of tourism, creating fire breaks, putting out fires, buying protective gear, paying for veterinary attention for rescued wildlife, food baskets and so much more.

Learn more via their Go Fund Me page.

Donate to help those on the ground trying to control the fire.

Help raise awareness of the plight.

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The intense look of a male jaguar on the hunt in the Pantanal wetland, Brazil.

Naun Amable Silva

I think all art is about control - the encounter between control and the uncontrollable.

by Richard Avedon

it is already 2008!!! 12 noon here now in manila and the ball in new york has just dropped (watching it on cable). it is so exciting that with the power of technology you get to see new year fireworks all day all night all over the world!!!

party on my friends, but remember: treat each day as the last - do not afraid to break the rules, but stay within reason, trust more and forgive quickly, love dearly and deeply, dance like you have never done before, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile!

happy new year my friends!!!

Jan. 14 - Feb 4th, 2011 at Roq La Rue Gallery. www.roqlarue.com.

mandygreer.wordpress.com

About “Honey and Lightening”

“Honey and Lightening” is a show of installation chambers, sculptures of talismanic birds and a series of staged photographs all revolving around examining the mercurial nature of human desire. The substances honey and lightening both have literary, mythical and archetypal references to the occurrence and evolution of desire and it’s fading. I see one as the slow ooze of pleasure and the other as the dangerous, uncontrollable and inexplicably instant occurrence of magnetism between two bodies.

The installation also includes a gathering of talismanic birds made of leather and more than a thousand individually cut and sewn silk and satin feathers, representing my imminent needs but using imagery used by a variety of ancient peoples and cultures — a desire for protection, for a guide, and harbingers of happiness in the form of a raptors. In photographs, close friends and my husband play out roles that tie into the everyday events of their lives, but represented as re-interpreted gods and goddesses such as Hecate, Demeter and the Green Man. The photos speak to themes of cross-roads, the double pull of isolation vs. community, a power buried in the beginnings of motherhood and the visceral erotic pull of the earth, volatile but buried like a dormant volcano.

Sponsored in part by by the City of Seattle Office of Arts and Cultural Affairs CityArtist Grant and 4Culture/King County Lodging Tax Revenue.

Model:Amalia Icreverzi

Photo/imaging/costume/sculpture: Mandy Greer

Sometimes I re-name him to Pedro le Torpedo, cause he is uncontrollable. Mostly in the morning when everyone is asleep.

shot with Nikon Df, edited with VSCO + Kodak Ektar 100

A track ganger scoots past Oamaru's loco depot in the early 1980s on his motorised jigger.

The arty slow shutter speed was an uncontrollable feature of Mum's old 35mm camera.

Thelma (not her real name) eyed up the passing tourist with a practised eye as she leaned back against the doorframe. It was a look that piqued his interest but a sideways glance down her chest and pot belly, and provocatively posed slim white legs made him grimace slightly. Damn, she had caught his eye. Slut. "Are ye wantin' any business?" she cooed across the road to him. It made him break into an uncontrollable smile, but he kept walking. Far too old for that sort of thing, and she simply wasn't his type. Disgustingly he realised he was slightly flattered.

Fortunately the thought brought him back to reality.

He had seen a sign. " Glen Roy Ice Age Landscape"

"Hmmm" he thought. I'll just take a gander up here and see what's going on. "What could the Glen Roy Ice Age Landscape be", he wondered. Is it some indoor themed display experience? Perhaps a big plastic mammoth and a stuffed woolly rhinocerous with a caveman depicted in a cavelike interior? He was intrigued.

The single track road wound up and up through the trees as the mountain faces opened up around him. Further and further up into the hills as the sparcely spread cottages and ruins thinned out along the track, further away from the Glen Spean Brewery.

Arriving at the viewing point he immediately noticed the 'parallel roads' markings on the hillside on either side of the glen and cut into the mountains up ahead. These lines were the shorelines of ancient icy lakes back in the last Ice Age 20,000 years ago. If you ever see it, it's really quite interesting.

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU FAVOURITE

Berserkers (or berserks) were Norsewarriors who are primarily reported in the Old Norse literature to have fought in a nearly uncontrollable, trance-like fury, a characteristic which later gave rise to the English word berserk. Berserkers are attested to in numerous Old Norse sources.

The Úlfhéðnar (singular Úlfheðinn), another term associated with berserkers, mentioned in the Vatnsdæla saga, Haraldskvæði and the Völsunga saga, were said to wear the pelt of a wolf when they entered battle.Úlfhéðnar are sometimes described asOdin's special warriors: "[Odin's] men went without their mailcoats and were mad as hounds or wolves, bit their shields...they slew men, but neither fire nor iron had effect upon them. This is called 'going berserk'." In addition, the helm-plate press from Torslunda depicts (below) a scene of Odin with a berserker—"a wolf skinned warrior with the apparently one-eyed dancer in the bird-horned helm, which is generally interpreted as showing a scene indicative of a relationship between berserkgang... and the god Odin"—with a wolf pelt and a spear as distinguishing features.

The concept of this Berserkr is written on my school diary and this is just an attempt to use the new technique of the arrows (you could use they, are just toothpick)

Hello Dan, it's Joe here

I hope you're keeping well

It's the 21st of December

And now they're ringing the last bells

If I get good behaviour

I'll be out of here by July

Won't you kiss my kids on Christmas Day

Pleeeeease ... don't let 'em cry for me

www.bing.com/videos/search?q=how+to+make+gravy+lyrics+pau...

CLICK ON IT ! , it will explain everything ... and it will do your heart good to see and hear,

.. it always makes me burst into uncontrollable, joyous tears 😂

“I don’t miss you, I miss who I thought you were”

It’s funny, when I first read that quote my mind was drawn to someone. It usually is no matter who you are. But what happens if the person you’re talking about in this, isn’t the ex, or the one who hurt you, or another person. What happens if the one you’re saying “I don’t miss you, I miss who I thought you were” was yourself.

Shelby Tanner, is one heck of an amazing photographer and person (who I will tag) she told me a story at the beginning of this project about a boy. She fell in love with him and he didn’t have the same beliefs as her. That can be one of the most dangerous mixes ever. Those feelings, whether they’re ‘love’ or not, lead you into this uncontrollable but blissful place. But when you’re in that state with someone who doesn’t respect your beliefs or you, you end up falling into patterns that aren’t you. Aren’t who you want to be.

Most people go into a relationship one way and come out another and usually that’s a good thing. It’s a part of growing but what happens when it’s a toxic change? I’ve watched people come out of a relationship as a completely different person and I’ve watched them do some stupid things because of it.

I don’t think you can ever really know who you are because you’re always changing. But you can always know who you want to be. However, I’ve watched one too many people lose that because of a relationship. I’ve seen one too many people conform to something they’re not to make someone else happy.

That best friend I always talk about said an another amazing thing, “I don’t think you’re ready to be happy with someone until you’re happy with yourself.”

I used to be anti-relationships. I thought they were lame and a waste of time. But you know, sometimes it’s nice to get that feel good, jittery, I can’t stop smiling feeling. There’s a balance though because trust me, you do not want to be standing there saying “I don’t miss you, I miss the person I thought your were.” to your reflection in the mirror.

God has a plan for you and he has someone who’s going to love you for you. Not for the things he expects you to be. Not for those things he wishes he could change. Because let’s be honest, almost all of us once in our life have wanted to change something about someone we were involved with. You can’t do it, or at least you can’t do it and call it love. Look at how God loves us, even though we’re as messed up as we all are he finds us so amazing and beautiful and incredible. I think that’s what makes love so amazing because someone can know everything about you and still think you’re just the most beautiful person in the world.

That sounds great doesn’t it? But there’s a catch. I think we all need to stop being so oblivious to the danger of those good feelings. We all complain so much about heart break but heart break is so small compared to the things of God and what he has planned. Are you really willing to give your future, your eternity, your faith, those miracles, that joy and peace away for someone who won’t take the time to try to understand you?

I will tell every person until the day I die this “you should never settle. You deserve the best.” In the bible god creates this amazing, breath taking garden for Adam and Eve. He wants us to be blessed and he wants us to enjoy his glory. He wants us to have the best so why are you settling for someone who reminds you every day of those things that you wish you could be but that you’ll never be?

Why do you keep telling yourself things will change when you know that something is changing but it’s not those things…it’s you?

'No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.' Matthew 6:24

If we changed money into the name of that person you’re involved with would you understand how that relationship is affecting you? Would you be able to see how it has gotten to the point where you are ‘serving’ them and trying to keep them happy no matter how you feel.

God knows you and accepts you. He loves you unconditionally, in a way that that other person never can. So why are you telling yourself you’re not good enough or that you need to be better when the only perfect person tells you you’re beautiful and that they love you?

Don’t settle. Don’t give up on what you want. Don’t surrender your life to a man or woman. Don’t lose yourself in the process because love isn’t about hiding and transforming. It’s about finding and accepting.

So tell me, if you were to really think about it, next time you say “I don’t miss you, I miss who I thought you were” are you talking to someone you once loved or are you talking to yourself?

The Untouchable Sun

burning high above

In the Periwinkle time

he dreams of things forbidden

__

Periwinkles in my garden. I love the flowers even if the plant is an uncontrollable monster.

A Wicked Turn

Acte 19

One must be Methodical

Dropping her hand, she questioned him…

“What have you forgotten to do, my dear thief?”

He stood still, hoping she would just obligingly tell him what to do next.

She happily did so...

“My closet! Gaston your always forgetting any good burglar worth his salt checks a damsel’s closet for brooches and such left on by ladies far too lazy to remove them from one's party frocks. I swear Gaston You would make a horrible burglar in real life. You would positively starve if it were not for being directed by someone like me!”

She chortled at her wit.

He just smiled, thanking her inwardly for being ever so much a big help to her poor Darling ‘Gaston’!

He turned to his right and headed straight to the closet, curious as to what he was expected to find inside?

Opening the door, a long floor length mirror was revealed, allowing one to see into the interior of the bedroom behind him.

Including the reflection of his most helpful victim as she stood there in all her jewelled and tight-fitting emerald satin attired glory!

She keenly watching his progress with an eager interest, as he stole a look at her reflection, muttering happily to himself…

“Best get this over with quickly, then attend to the lady and her finery!”

He turned to look back inside, and was met with a designer like an assortment of colourful dresses, gowns, and other fancy attire!

A quite nice, if not downright beguiling, display of soft velvets, slinky silks, sleek satins, frilled lace, and shiny leather.

He quickly began his task at hand, letting his thinly gloved fingers feel through the wonderfully sleek fabrics for anything hard and metallic.

On one velvet number he felt something like a necklace around its top, he pulled it out, but disappointedly it was a rhinestone collared frock.

He tossed it onto the bed and resumed his search as she could be heard softly giggling behind him...

“Nope, nothing on that one, but don’t quit just yet!

He stole a glance at her from the mirror, then he turned back into working the closet.

The glance revealed that his ‘mentor’ was watching him eagerly, her whole being quivering in anticipation head down to spiky heeled foot!

He fingered a satiny white ruffled blouse, he decided he had better keep tabs on this one, still not sure what exactly her game was all on about?

He muttered to himself…

“They were her jewels after all, weren’t they? Indeed, rather valuable for mere playthings!”

There had to be something inside here!

He thought as he let drop the satin blouse and plunged his gloved hands inside again and felt around.

This time he was rewarded by feeling a slight prick of something solid and sharp.

He pulled out a luxuriously long black satin number and saw it had two ruby clips attached to its bodice.

He held it up to the mirror so she could see.

she clapped gleefully, watching him pull free the ruby clips from the evening gown and casually flipped them into his bag on the floor.

“Well done Gaston!”

He looked up at her, as the slinky black gown was indifferently added to the growing pile on her bed.

He could see by her reflection that she was excitedly eating it up.

Then she suddenly resumed back into her character of being the hapless victim.

And began to miserably plead…

“Please mister burglar don't take everything of mine! I am sure there is nothing more inside!”

He smiled, wondering how she would react when she eventually found out that indeed, she was a hapless victim of her game!?

Turning his attention once again to her closet he moved aside the hangers, revealing a set of shelves set in the back that contained a nice selection of sensible shoes, wedged pumps, glossy spiked heels and designer style purses.

One purse caught his ever-appraising eyes, a small gold clutch with what looked like (and probably was) a diamonded clasp!

He pulled it out and tossed the expensive bugger into the bag.

“Oui , Good eye Gaston! It's almost like you were a real thief.”

She gurgled this, shivering in delight, as her earrings and necklace flickered along with her figure, like uncontrollable wildfires.

He watched the enticing show from her reflection in the handy door length mirror.

Then he turned back to the closet.

For, as he was moving the dresses over to look into the shelves, his eye had caught sight of a black leather jacket with a belt studded by what must have been a thousand rhinestones.

He now pulled it out and searched its pockets, mainly to tease her a bit further, for he imagined that “Gaston” would do such a thing!

So, he was utterly surprised when his gloved fingertips felt something cold and a bit weighty in a side pocket!

He slipped it out and found he was holding a solid gold cigarette case, which he added to the ever-growing collection in his bag!

His “Mentor” trilled as he did so, exclaiming with happy surprise...

“I had wondered where that had gotten off to luv! The matching lighter should be there too!”

He reached back in, and there it was, as well as a small ivory and ebony gold ringed cigarette holder.

Both of which quickly joined their companion in the now bulging bag.

He then pulled off the shimmery belt.

Even with rhinestones, it was worth a pretty penny he reasoned.

As started to pitch it into the case, he heard the Lady helpfully exclaim in the background, a good idea she said excitedly.

“Save that for when you tie me up to take my jewels!”

Shaking his head, why not? he tossed the belt to the helpful lass’s feet…

Thinking he was quite finished with the closet as he held the leather jacket, he for no rhyme or reason, took the time to hang it back up rather than adding it to the pile on the bed.

But It was as he did so that something, a most decidedly not rhinestone something, flashed in the dim lights in the gap that had been made where the leather jacket had hung!

He eagerly reached in and pulled out a lovely long brown, silky soft, liquidly appearing gown.

Holding it up triumphantly, he looked down at the dazzling sparkles of a magnificent gem-encrusted brooch that was suspended from the gown’s wide centre waistline.

“Good show Gaston!”

She exclaimed in the background.

His eyes left the brooch and looked into the mirror at her.

She was clapping, rings and bracelets, earrings and Coronet, the whole lot, erupting into a million pinpricks of fire as she did so!

He felt his manhood rising precariously as he looked her over, feeling the effect, even from this distance, her primitively carnal arousal!

She eagerly continued, spilling her emotions into her words!

“Mon Mari, I was going to tease you later if you were to ‘ave missed that one, and I was sure you were going to!”

“Tsk!” he said to himself. wonder what the teasing part would have entailed!

At the same time his mind was picturing this, he automatically, without taking his eyes off the mirror, pulled off the brooch and nonchalantly pocketing the breathtakingly pretty jewel before throwing the scintillatingly downy soft feeling soft gown onto the shiny pile already laying strewn about the bed.

It flashed through his mind that the fancy dresses strewn about could have been the striplings from that many jewel encrusted maidens, like this one, and what a delightful haul that would have been to carry out!

Savouring those thoughts, he turned once again to focus his attention, on the rather all too helpful Miss, his eyes traveling unabashedly up and down her figure.

Time was a-wasting!