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The Observer-Tree was a labour of love, bringing with it dreams from my childhood and philosophical understanding from my adulthood. For the whole story, pick up a copy of the brilliant magazine BricksCULTURE, this is in edition #6 store.republic66media.com/product/bricks-culture-issue-6-... .
Thanks a big one to Cristian Brunelli for the great photographic shots, these are all courtesy of Bricks CULTURE Magazine.
The Gay Games is the world's largest sporting and cultural event organized by and specifically for LGBT athletes, artists, musicians, and others. It welcomes participants of every sexual orientation and every skill level. Originally called the Gay Olympics, it was started in San Francisco in 1982, as the brainchild of Tom Waddell, whose goals were to promote the spirit of inclusion and participation, as well as the pursuit of personal growth in a sporting event. It retains many similarities with the Olympics, including the Gay Games flame which is lit at the opening ceremony.
The Gay Games is open to all who wish to participate, without regard to sexual orientation. There are no qualifying standards to compete in the Gay Games. It brings together people from all over the world, many from countries where homosexuality remains illegal and hidden.
The Federation of Gay Games (FGG) is the sanctioning body of the Gay Games. From its statement of concept and purpose:
The purpose of the Federation of Gay Games is to foster and augment the self-respect of lesbians and gay men throughout the world and to engender respect and understanding from the nongay world, primarily through an organized international participatory athletic and cultural event held every four years, and commonly known as the Gay Games.
Gay Games VIII were held in Cologne, Germany from July 31 to August 6, 2010.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_qPe_snpgY Ya viene llegando ,Our Day is Comming
3 claves para entender las protestas en Cuba, las más grandes en décadas
Un nuevo lema
"Patria y vida" juega con el histórico lema del gobierno cubano "Patria o muerte. Venceremos" acuñado por Fidel Castro en la década de 1960.
"Ya no gritemos patria o muerte, sino Patria y Vida" ha sido uno de los versos que causó mayor molestia en el gobierno de la isla, ahora encabezado por el presidente Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez.
3 keys to understanding the protests in Cuba, the largest in decades
A new motto
"Homeland and life" plays on the historic motto of the Cuban government "Homeland or death. We will win" coined by Fidel Castro in the 1960s.
"Let's no longer shout homeland or death, but Homeland and Life" has been one of the verses that caused the greatest annoyance in the island's government, now headed by President Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez.
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"Understanding the symptoms of diabetes is a valuable Christmas gift."
~ Unknown
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2. Cure Diabetes,
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Thanks for stopping by
and God Bless,
hugs, Chris
For everyone to share since a lot of this has been just glanced at without further thought, controversy and discussion.
Black holes are one of the most destructive forces in the universe, capable of tearing a planet apart and swallowing an entire star. Yet scientists now believe they could hold the key to answering the ultimate question - what was there before the Big Bang?
sybylfly.blog.ca/2013/05/10/understanding-black-holes-159...
A series of AI-generated pictures of Penelope C. in different art styles.
To be continued.
Pictures made with Midjourney.
I'm always happy to accept invites to groups as long as I can see their content. If I see "this group is not available to you", my photos won't be made available to that group. Thanks for your understanding.
"Understanding Society" is the main theme of Tilburg University in the southern province of Noord Brabant of The Netherlands. But there's only so much 'understanding' a visiting committee can take in at one sitting. So we went on a couple of pleasant walks through the spaciously laid out campus. There's a wonderful, rectangular pond with modern sculpture, and walking in the low, bright sun rays this view delighted our eyes: truly Blazing Autumnal Waters. My precise little Sony T900 recorded what we saw as faithfully as I remember it...
A bit facetiously it might be added that the ciitzens of Tilburg are proud to ply their once offensive nickname of "Kruikezeikers" (Pot-pissers). Tilburg grew from various impoverished hamlets where sheep grazing was the main occupation. The wool was then shipped out to other places. But in early-modern times, households began their own wool industry, taking textile making into their own hands, as it were. Hardly a home could be found without a loom. Industry-size millhouses were established in the nineteenth century, and Tilburg became the wool and textile capital of the Netherlands. In former times, urine was necessary for wool-processing, and it was collected in earthenware jars. Hence that Tilburg epitheton (now fashionably) ornans!
Incidentally, it was this kind of industry that Karl Marx decried in the nineteenth century and led him to write "Das Kapital". Students of the then still Catholic University in 1969 for a short time effected a change of name for their institution, calling it Karl Marx Universiteit.
Whatever the case, after our little stretching of the legs we again turned to "Understanding Society".
my understanding is that these puppets show were very popular at one time, but now...computers, tv and smartphones....who wants puppets?
the colors on the puppet structure were not saturated...all natural and bright!
taken at the corner of shuangshi road and furong road in taichung, taiwan
The remains of the Maples Motel in Muncie, Indiana. From my understanding, the motel was abandoned sometime around the reroute of an Indiana highway around the city of Muncie. I would have liked some interior shots, but an uncomfortable feeling told me not to go in there. According to my later research, one known murder took place here in the 90s, as well as some other suspicious activity.
A series of AI-generated pictures of Norma J B. in different art styles.
To be continued.
Pictures made with Midjourney.
I'm always happy to accept invites to groups as long as I can see their content. Should I see "this group is not available to you", my photos won't be made available to that group. Thanks for your understanding.
Zellforschung im All - um den Stoff besser zu verstehen, aus denen wir alle gemacht sind.
BIOLAB cell research in space - to understand the very cells that all of us are made of.
Credits: ESA/NASA
122A4190
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I don't sell my dolls. Thank you for your understanding !!!
Don't repost without my permission ☠
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We have the Winter Solstice coming up soon so I am going to try to explain what it is all about. We all know there is 24 hours in a day so what is this Shortest Day all about.
The reason we have any seasons is because the earth has a 23.5 degree tilt. In the summer months the sun shines directly on our USA country, in the Winter we get the weak angular rays. This country averages well over 100 degrees difference.
In July Death Valley can be well over 100 degrees. In winter much of the North is hovering around zero.
What makes all the difference is the latitude where you live. On the longest day in June, Seattle gets about 13 hours of sunlight, while Miami gets around 11. Norway is called the land of the Midnight sun. In Summer the sun goes below the horizon for only about 40 minutes, then it is up again. In Barrow, Alaska, the sun goes down on November 18th and it comes up again 67 days later on January 23rd.
I hope this has helped to explain some of the mysteries associated with the Solstice.
Jo Leenders 04-T/M- 11- sept- 2007 Barcelona. © RESPECT the copyright.
Leica M6 TTL 0,72 Elmarit-M 1:2,8/21 mm ASPH.Nikon coolscan 5000ed. Developer Ilford ID-11 1+1.Ilford Delta 100 asa. ONLY PERSONAL COMMENTS. NO LOGOS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.
🔴Leica my point of view.
Wetzlar, Deutschland.
Leica-CL 1974 Rangefinder,Serial Number 1395533
Leica-M 6 TTL 0.72 1998 Rangefinder Serial Number 2466527
Leica-M6 TTL 0.85 2001 Rangefinder Serial Number 2755204
The author of this article, Ford Elms, has allowed me to copy and publish it here:
In a tradition going back more than a thousand years, the Faroese renew their connectedness to their history, their culture, their communities, and the natural world around them. The pilot whales return to the Faroe Islands, and the people harvest this bounty from the sea. The Faroes are small islands in the middle of the cold North Atlantic. The growing season is short, the islands rocky, grudgingly yielding grass and a few of the more hardy vegetables. The people’s diet has traditionally relied heavily on meat and seafood, and the pilot whales are a welcome addition. It’s a natural thing, of course, something many in the 21st century don’t understand, while pretending they do.
At a time when many people have to call themselves “human animals” to remind themselves of their place as part of nature while never actually understanding what that means, the people of the Faroe Islands have known it from their earliest childhoods.
You can’t tell wild animals how to behave. The return of the whales is not predictable. Some years they don’t come at all. Few things remind you of your place in the natural world as when nature does not provide you with the food you depend on. So in this modern world of schedules and deadlines, those who can down tools and attend to what nature has dictated, and man’s artificiality falls before something far greater.
A pod of whales is sighted, and the call goes out. Grindaboð! People drop what they are doing and gather for the Grindaboð. You can’t tell a wild animal to wait until you get off work at the office. Families gather on the beach, some man boats to go out and slowly drive the pod onto the shore. Only certain beaches are used, they have to be long and shallow to allow the whales to be driven high out of the water. Kids, parents, grandparents all gather. The men begin the arduous and dirty task of killing the whales, dragging them high on the shore before dispatching them with a cut to the spinal cord. Blood fills the water, as it must.
In the almost subconscious way that traditions are passed on in traditional cultures around the world, the kids learn by watching. Often, it’s watching out of the corner of their eye, as they play around the beach, climbing on the dead whales, watching their elders, learning skills their people have known for centuries.
Because it’s no easy task to kill a whale properly. Do it wrong, and a majestic animal could lie for hours, dying slowly in agony. You have to make it quick, a job that gets harder as the blood gathers, the water is churned up by the thrashing of the whales, and fatigue starts to set in. Kids have to learn how to do it right before they take their place besides their elders. This is not play.
And the old men, their joints stiff and their reflexes dulled, stand back and watch, remembering the Grinds of their boyhoods, criticizing how the young ones aren’t as good as they were in their day, or complimenting the skills of the more expert. And the old women share the news, and wink to each other at the younger girls eyeing the younger boys taking part for the first time, and the boys eyeing them back. And the old women remember when they were the ones doing the eyeing.
Then it’s over. The whales are butchered and the meat distributed in a complicated tradition as old as the Grindadráp itself. The blood clears from the cove and the communities go back to their houses. What they have done might not seem like much. Or it may seem to some a horrendous crime. Yet, what have they actually done?
They have taken part in something that binds them to their ancestors. They have provided sustenance for themselves. They have renewed their traditional connections to each other and the natural world around them, connections that their detractors in their self-righteous, bigoted ignorance cannot possibly understand, and so do not condescend to try. They have done this for themselves and for their children, children who, without really even being conscious of it, are learning who they are.
And for that they are derided by people who have no knowledge of who they are themselves, nor of what they are defaming, people who romanticize the natural world while spreading hatred of those who are more a part of that natural world than these self-righteous judges could ever hope to be. It takes a village? Well, these are the villages it takes.
Many of their detractors live in urban environments, their paved and synthetic lifestyles wreaking havoc on the natural world. This havoc extends to the Faroe Islands, where mercury is a worrisome part of the food chain. The Faroese leave a far smaller footprint on the global ecosystem. Yet those whose lifestyles contributed a lot of that mercury use its potential toxicity both as an argument against eating whale, and as a weapon to portray the Faroese as somehow mentally deficient and no better than brute beasts, all the while ignoring the ominous fact that the whales they claim to defend are being poisoned in their natural environment. As one Faroese man said, why is it acceptable for whales to be poisoned with mercury as long as no-one kills and eats them?
But the Grindaboð continues, fiercely defended by the Faroese as central to their culture. Who knows how long it will last. And if it is lost, will we have lost much? We will have lost something that, though it is not unique to the Faroe Islands, is in short supply. We will have lost a people whose lives were governed by rhythms as old as the planet, who understood the land and sea around them, and their place in it, and that they have as much right as the orca to eat the pilot whale, being no less natural than the orca.
Whether you think it a great loss depends, I guess, on what respect you have for human beings and human cultural diversity. I consider loss of a traditional culture to be an immeasurable tragedy, no less so than the loss of an animal species. We lose something of the human experience. These people live their lives knowing that nature is not something to be visited once in a while in an attempt to feel spiritual. It is their home.
How ironic then that people who live their lives worlds away from the source of their food, and who seem to consider the wilderness as a colossal petting zoo populated by furry four legged humans who can't talk, should preach to them about respect for nature.
Ford Elms, August 2014
Not sure I think he was writing "send me 3 and 4pence as were going to a dance" but I thought I heard his Captain asking "Send us reinforcements were going to advance" :))
Buttercup bokeh..... all gone now as the grass just had to be cut before it became an impossible job :( I need to create a meadow somewhere......
The Luxury of being yourself
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We tend to celebrate light in our pictures. Understanding how light interacts with the camera is paramount to the work we do. The temperature, intensity and source of light can wield different photography effect on the same subject or scene; add ISO, aperture and speed, the camera, the lens type, focal length and filters…the combination is varied ad multi-layered and if you know how to use them all, you will come to appreciate that all lights are useful, even those surrounded by a lot of darkness.
We are guided by three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, our longing to capture in print, that which is beautiful, the constant search for the one picture, and constant barrage of new equipment and style of photography. These passions, like great winds, have blown us across the globe in search of the one and we do understand the one we do look for might be this picture right here for someone else out there.
“A concise poem about our work as stated elow
A place without being
a thought without thinking
creatively, two dimensions
suspended animation
possibly a perfect imitation
of what was then to see.
A frozen memory in synthetic colour
or black and white instead,
fantasy dreams in magazines
become imbedded inside my head.
Artistic views
surrealistic hues,
a photographer’s instinctive eye:
for he does as he pleases
up to that point he releases,
then develops a visual high.
- M R Abrahams
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We want to thank you for your interest in our work and thanks for visiting our work on Flickr, we do appreciate you and the contributions you make in furthering our interest in photography and on social media in general, we are mostly out in the field or at an event making people feel luxurious about themselves.
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This is Felix Wilkins , a street musician in Philadelphia.Life has dealt him many twists and turns but he always remains true to his passion for music.You can hear him play here
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qvIenwgjnA and read his fascinating life story written by Michelle Alton here...
Beat
By Michelle Alton
Felix Wilkins was playing “Anchors Aweigh” on the City Hall Concourse in Suburban Station when I first saw him during my commute.
I had just begun a new job in Philadelphia after a period of unemployment. Raised in Edison, New Jersey, I‘d built my career in central New Jersey pharmaceutical companies as a clinical researcher. Then suddenly, like so many others across the country, one morning I drove to work only to find myself without a job on the drive home. Now I was making a new start, with a whole new understanding of how it felt to be down and out. Perhaps that’s what drew me to the street musician as I still struggled to overcome the confidence loss I’d suffered after the layoff.
In the past, large cities had always been sources of fear and intimidation to me. So coming to Philly each day was opening my eyes to so many sources of its wonderment — and also to its darker, gloomier sides.
A street flutist in Center City, Felix (I did not even know his name at the time) was a tall, lean, older, striking-looking black man. He was usually dressed in a stylish suit, starched shirt, perfectly-knotted tie and matching handkerchief, and had Old Glory draped over his rolling suitcase’s extended handle. He played the notes flawlessly, and every so often a passer-by smiled and placed a dollar bill in his flute case.
I noted that Wednesday was his usual day, and found myself happily anticipating those mid-week mornings. In addition to his patriotic fare, he also played show tunes, other popular music and a collection of national anthems.
An avid amateur photographer, during lunch breaks, I trek about the city with my camera chronicling the “HYPERLINK "http://maltonphotos.zenfolio.com/philadelphia/slideshow"Philadelphia Experience,” for my website. As I became more familiar with the city, my feelings about it changed as well. My photographer’s eye noticed more details and my other senses became more attuned to its sights, smells, textures, and sounds.
On one noon-time jaunt, I was short-cutting through the east entrance of City Hall, camera conspicuous around my neck, headed toward Market Street, when I caught wind of the flutist in the concourse near the souvenir shop.
Noticing my camera as I passed through, he barreled up to me and asked if I would photograph him. “It’s my birthday!” he announced, thrusting his drivers’ license into my hand to prove it. He turned 68 that day. “Will you put my picture on the Internet?”
Happy to accommodate, though a bit wary at first, I made camera adjustments to compensate for the difficult lighting conditions: half dark with midday light streaming in through the low archways. While I snapped shot after shot, the flutist played, on bended knee, by his American flag. Moments later, a heavy-set, mustached man of about 45, sporting a red headband and yellow printed bandana, and leaning heavily on his cane, hobbled into the hallway.
The flutist approached him, and began speaking in Spanish. Suddenly, the man was singing his country’s national anthem, accompanied by the flute player. Though absorbed by the rapport that had sprung up spontaneously between the two men, I just kept shooting until the man finally limped off.
Later that week, as my birthday gift to the flutist, I posted the photos to my website. On the following Wednesday morning, I presented him with two full-color prints, mounted in gift folders. “You’re a good photographer, “he exclaimed, to my great pleasure.
I waved to him as I hustled off to work. But during the next week, my thoughts repeatedly returned to him. One day, on a coffee break, I typed, “Philadelphia + flutist + Suburban Station” into a Google search box to see what I could learn. On the first hit, I read about Felix’s arrest near Rittenhouse Square about three years before. There was no law on the books forbidding the playing of music on street corners, but he had been handcuffed and spent 45 minutes in jail. The next item was a headline announcing that he was being awarded compensation to settle his suit against the city for unlawful arrest. The article went on to say that Felix was a Panamanian musician and a retired professor of music at Brooklyn College. His life was beginning to fascinate me.
I also found rave reviews of his music and several outstanding decades-old recordings. Renowned jazz flutist, Andrea Brachfeld, in an internet interview, explained that Felix had been an early mentor to her in New York, and she credited Felix with having “shown her the ropes” back in 1972. He was so accomplished, —and judging from the mp3s I downloaded, an amazingly talented musician. Now I was determined to understand how such a man had wound up busking on the streets of Philadelphia, playing patriotic tunes for small change and occasional smiles. Convinced Felix had a story to tell, I made it a point to strike up conversations with him on several subsequent Wednesdays, and our chats became warm and friendly. “I’m an ethnomusicologist,” he told me one day, when we were talking outside City Hall. "Whatever is that?" I wondered.
Suddenly energized, Felix, not trying to disguise his passion, explained that you don’t just learn the music -- you learn the geography, culture, cuisine, customs, literature, architecture, and ethnicity of a country. Then, when you play the music, you impart the feel of the region from which it arose. To provide a more visual explanation, he went on “Take music from the Baroque period. It’s a very rough sort of music.” To illustrate, he sang a few sort of choppy sounding segments from a Bach fugue.
“Now look at that baroque carving near that window,” he went on, pointing at a portion of the City Hall façade and growing more animated. “It is also rough, just like the music from that period.” Though I didn’t really understand the analogy, the teacher in Felix was surfacing before my eyes and ears. And I thought, “He is not down and out, or a loser. He actually loves what he does!” Felix speaks fluent Spanish and English, and “gets by” in Greek and Portuguese and can also utter several phrases in a Chinese dialect. I was awed at the knowledge and passion of this man who played for coins in the train station. And although flute is Felix’s major love, he also plays saxophone, clarinet, piano, violin, cello, and other instruments. And he sings! He describes himself as a classical flutist, jazz and dance band performer. As we spoke, he artfully played and sang excerpts from Mozart, Beethoven, Vivaldi, Pachelbel, and Chopin.
Then he stood, suddenly switching to Charanga, a spirited Cuban/African dance genre, played on the flute in impossibly high registers. His crocodile leather-clad feet stepped and danced rhythmically in place on the pavement. I looked around in disbelief, astounded that no one on the plaza seemed to be paying any mind to the music. I would have expected other lunchtime shade seekers to be lined up, ears cocked, to hear what was going to happen next. But as I was becoming more and more mesmerized by his performance, they went about the business of enjoying their sandwiches, oblivious to Felix’s performance.
When he finished, we talked some more, and I learned that this man who takes such joy in his music does so in spite of a hard-lived life. That was when I realized the common ground we shared: My passion and gift for photography had carried me through one of the most difficult periods of my life –the sudden loss of livelihood. Could it carry me farther? I think it was at that moment that I began to plan a new chapter in my life.
Born to Jamaican parents in Panama City, Felix’s family lived in a rough neighborhood where his father worked by day as a laborer and played saxophone in local clubs at night. The elder Wilkins didn’t want his children following in his footsteps because of the drug-infused lifestyle typical of nightclub musicians there. But when his father came home one night to find his reed protector wedged into the belly of the horn, he realized that young Felix must have been playing while he was at work. So his father began to teach him Saxophone, but also made him agree to attend vocational school to learn a marketable skill. Felix promised. He became certified as an automotive mechanic and then studied at Panama’s National Conservatory of Music, where his romance with the flute began.
Active in Latin dance bands, most notably in Conjunto Impacto, (Joint Impact), he also played first flute in the Panamanian police band, and dabbled in composition. Some of his work was recorded by other artists.
Ambitious and married with two small children -- a boy and a girl -- his dream was to immigrate to America to play in the big jazz and Salsa bands. Felix brought his family to New York City, where a relative had offered to sponsor him. Supporting himself as a mechanic, and later, working at a bank, he played flute in various bands around the city. He played and recorded with Latin legends like Willie Bobo, Mongo Santamaria, Tito Puente, Machito, Patato and Johnny Pacheco. During this time, his flute was also featured in the album Tico Alegre Allstars Live at Carnegie Hall with Joe Cuba. At the same time he began to study music at Brooklyn College, struggling to work full time, attend classes, be a family man, and hone his performance skills by playing in clubs.
So Felix left his day-job and joined the welfare rolls. A divorce from his wife soon followed. When he speaks about the woman he still carries a torch for to this day – 40 years later – his facial muscles flatten and his voice becomes muted as he allows the memory of those painful years to settle on his mind.
“But why,” I asked, “would she not have given you another chance, knowing that you cared so much for her?”
"Well," he offered, “In those days, I was a machismo man.” Felix, like most of us, also had a dark side. I did not question him further on this as I watched the sadness spread across his eyes. I didn’t want to prolong the grief he seemed to be reliving. But he told me that what transpired caused his wife to forbid contact with his children until many years later, when they were grown and had families of their own.
But that grief, I learned, nourished his music. He says he still loved her with all his heart and soul, and to keep his sorrow from overwhelming him, he threw himself into his education. One of his dreams had been to teach music to young people. He returned to Brooklyn College, where he completed a four-year degree in less than three years, earned his Bachelor of Arts in 1977 and eventually accepted a teaching position. He returned to Panama in the mid-1980s where he taught at the U.S.-supported Panama Canal College, the National Conservatory of Music, and the University of Panama. While there, he also played with a consortium called "Jazz Unlimited," and arranged and performed his own salsa version of "Baroque and Blue," a classical and blues fusion composition by the acclaimed pianist, Claude Bolling. In 1994 he returned to the United States, settling in Philadelphia.
He supported himself meagerly, playing gigs with a Cuban dance band called "Foto y su Charanga" and giving private music lessons to both adults and children. He says he loves to work with children because their lives are uncomplicated and they don’t skip as many lessons as adults.
Now, one or two days a week, Felix keeps his performance skills honed by playing on the streets of Center City, Philadelphia. He plays the morning commute in Suburban Station, outside a wig shop near the City Hall exit. In the afternoon, he migrates to the Historic District, where his flute fills the air with patriotic American tunes mixed with World Music. He is retired now, collects a very modest Social Security check, and lives in subsidized senior housing. He still loves to play his flute, saying, “Music is my soul. “If I don’t play, I will lose it,” he explains with a sort of distant look in his dark, expressive eyes. He truly enjoys the smiles and good will of the “regulars” at the train station, and of all who appreciate his warmth, his enthusiasm, and most of all, his spirited playing.
The next week, as I hurry through the train station, I hear in the distance a most heavenly flute rendition of Beethoven's "Fur Elise." As I round the next bend, I spot Felix, perched on a high stack of newspapers outside the wig shop, eyes closed, playing as though to an audience of angels. I stand and listen quietly as he finishes the piece, completely unaware of my presence. It is a brilliant and thrilling performance.
###
A series of AI-generated pictures of a futuristic spacecraft interior in different art styles.
To be continued.
Pictures made with Midjourney.
I'm always happy to accept invites to groups as long as I can see their content.. Should I see "this group is not available to you", my pictures/photos won't be made available to that group. Thanks for your understanding.
I dedicate this photo to Michelle a fellow 'Lupie' with whom I have shared tears with this evening.
This goes to show that having Lupus cannot be all that bad if you get to meet special people like her xx
here is a link to her wonderful photos...
"understanding how light works"...you think that's simple?!? try it and you'll change your answer to a simple NO.
when you're able to see it, and use it to take amazing pictures, you are a good photographer...
A Visual Guide to Understanding Foundation Problems t.co/lEFPeVmMS0 t.co/D0Mw19qWDp (via Twitter twitter.com/StratumFR/status/698752537596444672)
...understanding and respecting our ancestory................
These masks were originally created by us for our Capoeira opening ceremony performance called ROOTS at the Førde International Folkmusic Festival in Norway last year. The presentation was a great success as were these masks, which are now being incorporated with AfroBreak's latest dance production called Tribal Union.
This portrait seems so 'timeless.'
I was talking to Aaron last night at the Chicago Diner while we were waiting to get a table.
The light was perfect and I was suprised that I forgot that I had my camera in my hand.
I popped off a couple of shots while we talked.
It looks like I took this picture a hundred years ago.
Maybe colored it by hand.
Human beings are timeless.
So is the human soul.
We're all on the same journey.
It's always been that way.
We are alive in the moment.
Only the moment.
And the moment is all that we've really got.
Maybe nothing in life is ever perfect.
But imagine if we pursued perfection in each and every moment.
I was all philosophical last night.
Kind of reflective on a lot of things.
Winter is tough on the street.
It's a lot more challenging to get the shots I wanna get.
People are hustling...
engaging is a lot more of a challenge than on a balmy summer evening.
It was a fun night and I made the mistake I always make after a good night's shooting...
I stayed up until the sun came up looking at the shots.
This one I must have edited ten different ways until I accepted that my Nikon saw it perfectly.
So here it is 'SOOC.'
I hope the weekend's been kind and wonderful to you.
I'm still feelin' it.
I hope you're feelin' the love.
After a couple of those fermented beverages that make me extra friendly I saw this woman walking down the street.
I did that thing... that trick where I say 'hey hey' in a way that makes the person think that I know them.
I think they get a little confused for a few seconds... like they try to figure out how they know me... even though they don't... they respond as if they do until they figure it out.
In the meantime I shoot a few pictures.
Then we laugh and go our seperate ways into the night.
Do you ever wonder about the dreams of people you pass by on the sidewalk?
Do you ever wonder what dreams they've got?
Everybody has dreams.
You've got dreams.
I've got dreams.
After the holidays and some paperwork I've gotta take care of in January I've decided to jump on one of those dreams.
I want to backpack across Iceland.
Not all of Iceland.
Maybe just a week's worth of it.
Fifty or sixty miles maybe.
I've been deprived of lonely wilderness adventure for the last two years and I gotta get lost in inner space.
I've always dug Iceland and I'm gonna save up some dough and grab a plane ticket...
bring my backpack and my camera and hit the trails there.
Those wicked blisters I got hiking across Isle Royale have healed.
I've been breaking those boots in for three years.
I'm ready.
Who doesn't dig volcanos?
It looks like a paradise and the kinda place I can do some deep thinkin' all by myself with only the mountains and the streams, the sound of the wind and the horizon to keep me company.
I gotta knock that dream off the list in 2012 before the Aztec predictions come true.
I wanna buy a sailboat too.
Not a big one.
Just big enough to do some sailing way out on Lake Michigan.
It's time.
I need the chillaxin' in my life and it would be good for the little Viewminders to get out on the water and learn to sail.
You know what else I wanna do?
I wanna buy some land in the mountains and put up a yurt.
One of those cool round tents that the nomadic Mongols live in.
I dig yurts.
It'd be really cool to live in a yurt for a few weeks every year I think.
I've got a little while for that one.
I'd love to backpack across Patagonia too.
I love to travel.
Finding myself in exotic foreign places is kinda cool.
My life's been on standstill for a couple of years and I'm hopin' I'm gonna break out of that in January and get some of those dreams accomplished.
As I get older I realize that people are made of dreams.
Take those dreams away and you're not left with much of a person.
You gotta have dreams.
Just reaching for them makes us alive.
Achieving them is living.
I hope you've got some wonderful dreams in your pocket.
Things you aspire to do.
Moments you look forward to living.
Dream big.
Dream on.
Dream forever.
We're made of dreams.
Dreams.
You can check out Klara Harden's work on flickr HERE
the eye of each sewing needle sees the point of the needle next to it, and understands. the two differently pointing triangles will be soldered. then placed one on top of the other - to form a tri-verse of understanding - part of the skin layer of the hippoARK
(Hippopotamuses need to keep their skins moist. But there is drought in parts of Africa and rivers are dry. hippoARK is to focus our singular understanding... 'repair the skin of hippopotamuses'; and also to help those humans who care for them)
Goto Turgwe Hippo Trust and give what you can.
We are one. No war.
Parámetros :: Parameters :: Paramètres: Fuji FinePix SL1000; ISO 400; -2 ev; f 2.9; 1/12 s; Fuji lens, 4 mm.
Título :: Title :: Titre ::: Fecha (Date): Plato con 40 años :: Plate 40 years old :: Plateau avec 40 ans ::: 2015/04/04 18:19
(Es). Historia: León. España. Hay dos cosas importantes en esta imagen: el bollo sueco de cardamomo (receta de Ibán Yarza) y el plato. La receta es excelente, el resultado sorprendente, sabor, textura y delicadeza.
El plato es importante por su historia personal. 40 años atrás en Alemania mis padres trabajaban en una Base Militar de la OTAN. Les oía decir que la vajilla que se usaba en los comedores militares era de una calidad que nunca antes habían visto en España. En aquellos años 60 no era normal tener acceso a estos productos en España, antes de irse a trabajar como emigrantes a Alemania, y les sorprendían. Se podían calentar a elevadas temperaturas introduciéndolos en el horno y no rompían, con gran consistencia y espesor, acompañados de unos grabados que no se quitaban después de muchos lavados en aquellos enormes lavavajillas. Mi hermano y Yo, con aquellos años, no comprendíamos su sorpresa..¡Era sólo un plato! ¿No?. Pues ya está, un plato.
Pero alguno de aquellos platos llegaron a España con nuestra vuelta a casa. Hoy, después de esos 40 años, más los que la vajilla tuviera antes, siguen estando casi como estaban; han perdido un poco del grabado y eso es todo lo que han dejado en el camino. Si se caen al suelo se desprenden muchas esquirlas extremadamente pequeñas, finas, agudas, difíciles de localizar y con un poder cortante muy alto, lo que las convierte en bastante peligrosas. Algunas de ellas aparecen meses después en alguna rendija allí donde los armarios se unen con el suelo. Algunos años después, cuando por los estudios que cursaba tenía mucho contacto con elementos de vidrio en el Laboratorio de Microbiología, conocí técnicamente el origen de su calidad. Por detrás estaba indicado el origen de las sorpresas: "Pyrex® Tableware by Corning. Made in USA". Hace esos casi 50 años aquello no era habitual en España.
El bollo de cardamomo es lo otro importante. Recomiendo el libro de Ibán Yarza: Pan Casero. Hace meses que ya no compro pan por culpa de ese libro. A poco que comiences a hacer tu pan en casa, quitándote ese miedo infundado a amasar, a tener masa madre, a poner cosas sorprendente dentro del pan… entonces verás que el pan es una de esas cosas importantes y divertidas que te has perdido si no lo haces tu mismo. No lleva tanto tiempo como se piensa, si tienes panificadora gran parte del proceso lo puede hacer ella sola cuando Tú no tienes ese tiempo, te permite panes con diversidad de combinaciones, especias, introduciendo verduras… Cuando llegó la panificadora a casa lo primero que me dijeron es: "¿A dónde iba con ese trasto? Lo vas a usar dos veces y luego acabará en un rincón". Hoy ha desplazado el espacio de la Thermomix que sólo se saca en el momento en que se va a usar, porque el sitio ahora está reservado para "el aparato que ayuda a hacer el pan y la masa de la repostería"… ¡Ah!, también puede hacer mermelada.
La masa de esos bollos se puede hacer a mano, pero ese día tenía un heridas en varios dedos debido al frío de las noches que salgo con Fray y la hice con la panificadora, luego el cocido fue en el horno donde la bollería sueca es diferente a la tradicional española: en este caso el horno suele cocer a 250 grados durante 6 o 7 minutos. Hay que estar vigilando el proceso casi sentado delante del horno o se quemarán. Llevan harina, levadura, azúcar blanco, azúcar moreno (a ser posible mascabado), sal, leche con mantequilla, semilla de cardamomo molidos, huevo para pintar y opcionalmente comino y almendra laminada. En 2 o 3 intentos le coges el punto y… puedes llegar a coger mucho peso, o hacer que lo cojan los demás.
Toma: Estaba con el ordenador y el hambre comenzaba a rondarme. Fui a la cocina y me acordé de que los había hecho el día antes. Tomé uno, el plato y volví al ordenador. Lo puse a la derecha, debajo de la lámpara y mientras lo miraba para comenzar a dar cuenta de él me vino a la mente la historia del plato. Aparté un poco el teclado, coloqué mejor la lámpara, preparé un poco la escena con algunas sombras dejando el reflejo y brillo de la bombilla y me fui a por la Fuji FinePix SL1000. Después, lentamente, fue acabándose el bollo. No hubo migas.
Tratamiento: Con Aperture. Original en JPG. El formato lo adapto para colocar el objeto ligeramente a la derecha, cortando el brillo de la bombilla. Oscurezco toda la escena para dar relevancia al plato. Modifico los histogramas por colores para marcar mejor el verde del grabado. Elevo ligeramente la vibración de color.
¡Eso es todo amigos!
(En). The History: León. Spain. There are two important things in this image: the Swedish bun of cardamomo (Ibán Yarza's recipe) and the plate. The recipe is excellent, the surprising result, flavor, texture and sensitivity.
The plate is important for his personal history. 40 years behind in Germany my parents were employed at a Military Base of the NATO. It heard them saying that the china that was used in the military dining rooms was of a quality that before they had never seen in Spain. In those years 60 it was not normal to have access to these products in Spain, before to being going to work as emigrants to Germany, and they were surprising them. They could warm up to high temperatures introducing them in the oven and they were not breaking, with great consistency and thickness, accompanied of a few engravings that were not eliminated after many washes in those enormous dishwashers. My brother and I, with those years, we were not understanding his surprise .. it was only a plate! Not?. Since already it is, a plate.
But someone of those plates they came to Spain with our come back home. Today, after these 40 years, more that the china had before, they continue being almost like they were; they have lost a bit of the engraving and it is everything what they have left in the way. If they fall to the soil there become detached many extremely small, thin, sharp splinters, difficult to locate and with a cutting very high power, which turns them in dangerous enough. Some of them appear some months later in some split there where the cupboards join with the soil. Some years later, when for the studies that it was dealing it had very much I contact glass elements in the Laboratory of Microbiology, I knew technically the origin of his quality. Behind the origin of the surprises was indicated: "Pyrex Tableware by Corning. Made in USA". It does these almost 50 years that one it was not habitual in Spain.
The bun of cardamomo is the important different thing. I recommend Ibán Yarza's book: Domestic Bread. For months already I do not buy bread through the fault of this book. To so that you begin to do your bread in house, taking from you this groundless fear of kneading, of having mass mother, of making things surprising inside the bread … at the time you will see that the bread is one of these important and enterteining things that you have got lost if you do not do it your same. It does not go so much time like thinks, if you have baker machine great part of the process can do it she alone when You do not have this time, allows you breads with diversity of combinations, spices, introducing vegetables … When the woman baker came to house the first thing that they said to me is: "Where You go with this utensil? You it are going to use two times and then it will finish in a corner". Today it has displaced the space of the Thermomix that only is extracted in the moment in which it is going to be used, because the site now is reserved for "the device that helps to do the bread and the pastry dough" … Ah!, also it can do jam.
The mass of these rolls can be done by hand, but that day had wounds on several fingers due to cold nights I go out with Fray and I did with the bread, then the stew was in the oven where the Swedish pastries is different the Spanish traditional: in this case usually bake oven at 250 degrees for 6 to 7 minutes. It is necessary to be monitoring the process almost sat in front of the oven or they will burn. They take flour, yeast, white sugar, brown sugar (to being possible mascabado), go out, milk with butter, seed of cardamomo ground, egg to do and optionally cumin and laminated almond. In 2 or 3 attempts you take the point and … you can manage to take very much weight, or to do that they it take the others.
Taking up: It was with the computer and the hunger began to court me. I went to the kitchen and remembered that had done them the day before. I took one, the plate and returned to the computer. I put it to the right, under the lamp and while it was looking at it to begin to liquidate it, the history of the plate came to my mind. I separated a bit the keyboard, placed better the lamp, prepared a bit the scene with some shades leaving the reflection and sheen of the bulb and I went away for the Fuji FinePix SL1000. Later, slowly, the bun was ended. There were no crumbs.
Treatment: With Aperture. Original JPG. The format I adapt it to place the object lightly to the right, cutting the sheen of the bulb. I get dark the whole scene to give relevancy to the plate. I modify the histograms for colors to mark better the green one of the engraving. I raise lightly the vibration of color.
That's all folks !!
(Fr). Histoire: León. L'Espagne. Il y a deux choses importantes dans cette image : le petit pain au lait suédois de cardamome (recette d'Ibán Yarza) et le plateau. La recette est excellente, le résultat surprenant, le goût, la texture et délicatesse.
Le plateau est important par son histoire personnelle. 40 ans derrière en Allemagne mes parents travaillaient dans une Base Militaire de l'OTAN. Il les entendait dire que la vaisselle qui s'employait dans les salles à manger militaires était d'une qualité dont d'avance ils n'avaient jamais vu en Espagne. Dans ces années 60 ce n'était pas normal avoir l'accès à ces produits en Espagne, avant de partir pour travailler comme émigrants en Allemagne, et ils les surprenaient. Ils pouvaient se chauffer aux températures élevées en les introduisant dans le four et ils ne cassaient pas, avec une grande consistance et une épaisseur, accompagnés de quelques gravures qui n'étaient pas éliminées après beaucoup de lavages dans ces énormes machines à laver. Mon frère et Je, avec ces années, nous ne comprenions pas sa surprise.. Un plateau était seul! Non ?. Puisqu'il est déjà, un plateau.
Mais un de ces plateaux ils sont arrivés à l'Espagne avec notre tour à une maison. Aujourd'hui, après ces 40 années, plus que la vaisselle avait d'avance, ils continuent d'être presque comme ils étaient; ils ont perdu un peu de la gravure et cela est tout celui qu'ils ont laissé dans le chemin. S'ils tombent au sol beaucoup d'esquilles se détachent extrêmement petites, fines, minces, difficiles de trouver et avec un pouvoir coupant très haut ce qui les change en assez dangereuses. Certains d'entre elles apparaissent des mois après dans une fente là où les armoires se joignent avec le sol. Quelques années après, quand aux études dont il suivait un cours j'avais beaucoup de contact avec éléments en verre dans le Laboratoire de Microbiologie, j'ai techniquement connu l'origine de sa qualité. Par derrière l'origine des surprises était indiquée : "Pyrex Tableware by Corning. Made in des USA". Il fait ceux-ci presque 50 ans cela n'était pas habituel en Espagne.
Le petit pain au lait de cardamome est l'autre important. Je recommande le livre d'Ibán Yarza : le Pain Domestique. Des cela fait déjà mois que je n'achète pas déjà de pain par faute de ce livre. À peu que tu commences à faire ton pain dans une maison, en te retirant cette peur sans fondement à amasser, à une mère avoir une masse, à mettre des choses surprenant à l'intérieur du pain …, alors tu verras que le pain est l'une de ces choses importantes et amusantes que tu t'es perdu si tu ne le fais pas même. Il ne porte pas tant de temps comme on le le te permet des pains avec diversité de combinaisons, d'épices pense, si tu as une machine à pain une dépêche elle peut le faire seule quand Tu n'as pas ce temps, en introduisant des légumes … Quand la machine à pain est arrivée à une maison le premier qu'ils m'ont dit est : "Où allait-il avec cette vieillerie ? Tu il vas utiliser deux fois et tout de suite il finira dans un coin". Aujourd'hui il a déplacé l'espace de la Thermomix qui enlève seulement dans le moment dans lequel il part pour user, parce que l'endroit est réservé maintenant pour "l'appareil qui aide à faire le pain et la masse de la pâtisserie" … : Ah!, il peut aussi faire une confiture.
La masse de ces rouleaux peut être fait à la main, mais ce jour-là avait des blessures sur plusieurs doigts en raison de nuits froides je vais à Fray et je ai fait avec le pain, puis le ragoût était dans le four où les pâtisseries suédois est différent l'espagnol traditionnel: four dans ce cas généralement cuire au four à 250 degrés pendant 6-7 minutes. Vous devez être en train de regarder la presque assis en face du processus de four ou brûler. Ils farine, la levure, le sucre blanc, cassonade (de préférence mascabado), le sel, le lait, le beurre, les graines de cardamome moulue, peinture à l'oeuf et le cumin éventuellement laminé et d'amande. Dans deux ou trois tentatives prendrez-vous le point et ... vous pouvez obtenir pour attraper beaucoup de poids, ou ont-ils attrapent autres.
Prendre: Il était avec l'ordinateur et la faim commençait à faire une ronde de moi. Je suis allé à la cuisine et me suis souvenu de ce qu'il les eût faits le jour d'avance. J'ai pris l'un, le plateau et suis revenu à l'ordinateur. Je l'ai mis à la droite, au-dessous de la lampe et tandis qu'il le regardait pour commencer à le liquider, l'histoire du plateau j'est venue à l'esprit. J'ai écarté un peu le clavier, ai placé mieux la lampe, ai préparé un peu la scène avec quelques ombres en laissant le reflet et l'éclat de l'ampoule et suis parti par le Fuji FinePix SL1000. Après, lentement, le petit pain au lait s'est terminé. Il n'y a pas eu de miettes.
Traitement: Avec Aperture. Origine JPG. Le format l'a adapté pour placer l'objet légèrement à la droite, en coupant l'éclat de l'ampoule. J'obscurcis toute la scène pour donner une importance au plateau. Je modifie les histogrammes par des couleurs pour marquer mieux le vert de la gravure. J'élève légèrement la vibration de couleur.
Voilà, c'est tout!
entertaining the maharaja of udaipur, celebrating diwali with fireworks over the finest lake palace hotel in the midst of lake pichola.
there are innumerable missing links in history and understanding many rituals of india, as it was divided in plenty of parts and ruled by numerous rulers throughout it's history. here, the most important festival of india, 'diwali' or 'dipawali' the festival of light is celebrated with pure zest and still the actual reason for celebrating is under argument for historians.
there are plenty of stories behind the celebration of 'diwali' like :
1. god rama, his wife sita and brother lakshman returned from the exile of 14 years in the forest, and hence people of ayodhya celebrated their return with fireworks and light.
2. god vishnu took the possession of three kingdom 'kingdom of earth, underworld and space' back from the king bali and hence people of all the kingdom celebrated with lights.
3. lord krishna killed the giant narkasoor and accepted his last words before death, to lighten all the three kingdoms.
4. humans' turn was seventh in worshipping the goddess of wealth 'lakshmi' and as it was a new moon night, it was lighted in such a manner.
5. it is celebrated as a victory of goddess mahakali over the evil giants.
6. kindness of goddess lakshmi poured wealth in the houseses of poors and hence that day is celebrated with lights.
there are few more lesser known stories justifying the reasons behind celebration of 'diwali' with light, maybe all are true upto some extent ...
see more DIWALI images here.
Understanding Guilt
Scriptures: John 8:1-11
Guilt over doing something that violates the conscience is a normal emotion. However, living under a cloud of remorse for no discernible reason is not. The Lord designed feelings of culpability and regret to serve as a reminder that a person has done wrong and needs to repent. But Satan twists those emotions to imprison men and women: those living in shame are uncertain of God's love and often lack self-confidence. Good guilt--the Lord's effective tool for prompting repentance--is a gift that helps us find the right path. However, the Devil encourages false guilt, which involves taking responsibility for things outside our control and then suffering self-condemnation for not changing the outcome. This unhealthy type of guilt is also a widespread problem for those in legalistic churches or lifestyles--certain behaviors or thoughts are labeled as wrong, and then people feel ashamed for doing or thinking those things. Self-condemnation stunts a relationship with Jesus. Instead of enjoying the peace of God, people who are trapped by shame fear His rejection and feel driven to prove their worth. Trust is nearly impossible because they are waiting for God's judgment to rain down. Their guilt even colors how they see themselves: rather than saying, "My action is wrong," they say, "I am bad." Jesus did not come to accuse or condemn us. Christ restored our souls and made us righteous before God so that our guilt is removed. If our Savior forgave the woman caught in an adulterous relationship, just imagine how ready He is to take your shame away too (John 8:11).
_____
Dr. Charles Stanley
“Peace Through Understanding”
Within this circular colonnade is a gold disc, thirty feet thick in the center, containing a theater. Suspended twenty-four feet off the ground, it is reached by a ramp.
Copyright 1961, 1963 New York World's Fair 1964-65
Dexter Press
75995-B
CAPA-018321
Had the opportunity to attend to this event @ Dar Al Ber Society, Dubai sponsored by Islamic Information Centre. Last 1st of June.www.islamicic.com/fasting/
The event was to understand the Value of Fasting during the Holy Month of Ramadan. During the event 20+ individuals decided to embrace Islam as their religion.
This image will be part of my Photodocumentary "Ramadan 2018".
Leica-M6 TTL 0.85. Elmarit-M 1:2.8/90mm. FP 4 Plus Ilford.
Developer Ilford ID 11 1+1 20º 11 min.
Nikon Super Coolscan 5000 ED. Film Scanner.
Beelden tuin, Depot Arboretum Wageningen.
Statue art.
🔴Leica my point of view.
Wetzlar, Deutschland.
Leica-CL 1974 Rangefinder
Leica-M 6 TTL 0.72 1998 Rangefinder
Leica-M6 TTL 0.85 2001 Rangefinder
A series of AI-generated pictures of Norma J B. in different art styles.
To be continued.
Pictures made with Midjourney.
I'm always happy to accept invites to groups as long as I can see their content. Should I see "this group is not available to you", my photos won't be made available to that group. Thanks for your understanding.