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A few weeks ago, a farmer's market magically sprung up in the plaza outside of my work. Every Wednesday through Friday, I am tempted by corn and peaches and tomatoes and the like as I rush in the door to my office. On Friday, these beautiful watermelons were just there calling to me, so I grabbed one after work and lugged it home on the subway. I cut into it immediately when I got home, excited to take my first bite of the summer of the bright pink flesh. You can imagine my surprise when it turned out to be...yellow?! It was just as tasty as the traditional melon (hell, I ate the whole thing by myself in under two days), but a pink watermelon it was not. You learn something new everyday. I think I'll buy another next week. :)

print : card : license : ecard : more

I finally got to wear the traveling socks, with all the cute things attached to them from everyone who has worn them before. They. Are. Adorable! Here's where they've been so far:

www.flickr.com/groups/1040132@N20/discuss/72157619714386453/

 

This map is from the best game ever, 'Maptangle'...it's like geographic twister!!!

 

18:365 living positively

explore 30

 

today i had a shitty day at work but someone managed to say just the thing to cheer me up and once i had shared my woes with a colleague i felt much better. in fact, by the time i left the office i was back to thinking that this has been an absolutely cracking start to the year. so i went to the pet shop and bought millie some more toys.

On an unexpected trip to Jackson and West Tennessee, I was able to stop by and take a few photos around town. This is the NC & StL/Jackson, TN Train Depot and Railroad Museum located on South Royal Street.

 

The Tennessee Midland Railroad Depot open its doors for the east to west trackage in Jackson on June 1888. The Tennessee Midland Railroad was purchased by the L & N Railroad in 1898. The L & N also gained controlling interest of the N.C. & St.L. Railway through a stock buy out. They combined the two railroads and released it back to the N.C. & St.L.Railway for 99 years and operated it as a separate company. The Tennessee Midland depot was used until 1906 when it was moved 200 yards east of its location, to be used as a general freight office. The present depot was built across the street by the N.C. & St.L. Railway in 1906-07, with the freight office and warehouse on the east side of the new depot. Mayor Hu Anderson welcomed dignitaries to the new structure with a grand opening. In the late 1800'S and early 1900's depots were like community centers, people set around and socialize. The depot had many surrounding attractions including Landcaster Park which its waters was famous for its “healing powers”. Other interest were a zoo, ballpark, swimming hole, lakes and Johnny's popcorn. Two circuses, Ringling Brothers, Haggenback and Wallace, and a carnival, the Royal American show unloaded here and presented their show. The depot was just a fun place to hang out to see who came in and left on the many trains each day. The other railroads in town went north to south, while the N.C. & St.L. went east and west from Memphis to Nashville, Chattanooga, Atlanta. From Atlanta the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad would take you to your Florida vacation. The N.C.& St.L. Railway played a big part in the nations railroads. This was the only railroad that made money during the depression. They had a passenger train named after the the city of Jackson called the Jackson Bell. It ran from Jackson to Memphis in 3 hours and 15 minutes. In the 1940's they put on a train called the City of Memphis that made the round trip from Memphis to Nashville in record time, it averaged 47mph. Most of the men from this area leaving for WWII hopped the train from this depot. 100's of folks came down to send them off with big celebration.

 

In the 1950's the N.C. & St.L Railway was the first in the nation to have total centralized block system control. This along with declining passenger service and the need for tighter control of finances forced the L.&N. Railroad to consolidate the two roads in 1957. In 1958, the N.C. & St.L.Railway (name) stopped in Jackson for the last time. The L.&N. Railroad continued to run the route until 1967 although the last few years it was just a night train. The N.C. & St.L.. Depot was used as a Trails Ways Bus terminal until the Mid 70's and then the doors closed. Due to the efforts of a few rail fans in Jackson, the City of Jackson purchased the depot in 1994. It is the only depot left in Jackson, a town who's heritage is deep rooted with the railroad industry. Today the depot remains in close to original

condition and houses a museum of local railroad history.

 

Three bracketed photos were taken and combined with Photomatix to create this HDR image. Additional adjustments were made in Photoshop CS5.

 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11

Okay, so perhaps I should have waited for a day when it wasn't pouring rain to do this shot, I was drenched by the time I got home (not to mention I had to keep rewriting the words since the chalk kept washing off).

 

So my Otesha fundraising has hit a spike in the last week, I'm almost at the halfway mark (so far I'm hovering around $1000 which is unbelievable!) The counselling department at my school is buying 4 prints to display in their office and the photography teacher also bought some to display in her room. With just under 2 months until the big trip I'm starting to feel confident that I'll be able to fundraise close to the total amount! If you'd like to order a print (you can also request one from my stream if you'd like) just visit Joel Bikes and have a look :)

 

Happy Bike Wednesday!

TOTW: Leave Your Mark

This shot may look planted, but honest to god I found it like this.

 

I was walking around on this relatively gloomy day looking for inspiration. When in an entrance to an office building, with a railing, I spotted this orange. I was @ f2.8 and iso 3200, but what it lacks in detail it made up for in charm.

 

Just wish I had read what was on the note. In my mind, it was a note from the orange to apples apologising for always being compared with each other, but never being appropriate.

 

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Sugar checks out the new indoor plant that Scott bought for me today when we went to Walmart. It's a Cyclamen and I really know nothing about how to grow it but I thought the blooms were very pretty and new flowers always cheer me up :))

 

I was trying to get some close-ups of the blooms but she kept sticking her nose into it. I don't mind just as long as she doesn't turn it into a litter box.

 

Back to work tomorrow for me...I dread going in because I haven't actually been in the office since last Wednesday because of the workshop I had to attend on Thursday and Friday. I know there's going to be lots of catching up to do and since there's no one to fill in for me when I'm out, there's always a surprise or two waiting for me as soon as I walk in - and not the good kind of surprises either...

 

My eye is better and that's a relief. Snow's in the forecast for Wed. night / Thursday...I'd love to get some snow pictures :))

 

I hope you've had a nice Tuesday!

22.10.2010

 

HFF!

 

I think I take my best Fence Friday shots when loaded down with shopping. Made out of both work and Tesco in time to see the sun!

 

For those who follow me on Twitter, I apologise for any excessive tweeting over a certain Joe McElderry song. I am NOT a fan. To be honest I didn't know who he was til the person who sits a desk away from me announced one of his songs was going to be on his album. He not only wrote Someone Wake Me Up (reportedly Joe's favourite song on the album) but also does the ooohs and ahhhhs so gets a credit for backing vocals. As Liam (the songwriter) would like to buy a car, we're all doing our best to make it popular. He only gets about 3p from an album sale, so we're holding back for the single to go all out on the 'we love Someone Wake Me Up campaign'. It livens up the office at least!

When autumn comes, it doesnt ask

It just walks in where it left you last

And you never know when it starts

Until there's fog inside the glass around your summer heart

 

I don't want summer to end. :'(( School starts a week from today...how depressing is that? But on a happier note I start my new job at the pediatrician's office tomorrow :) I'll be working 9-5 every day this week..! :)

Oops...nothing new to upload today. This is from Hilton Head in June...I miss it dearly. It's the sister picture to this...I guess the only difference was it started getting darker here. Today Logan and I went tubing in Helen, GA...a must do. It was way too crowded; there must have been at least 300+ people on the river. But now we can say we did it, at least. :) Then we went to Kroger and he, Preston and I put 50 cents each into those little twisty machines that have the cheap little toys and got these precious mustaches...that are awesome. :) Haha :D Today was neat-o.

 

PS...AHHHHH!!!! Flickr just notified me that I have uploaded 170 pictures and in order to see all of my photos after I upload 200, I have to upgrade to pro. Lame :( If someone wants to buy me a pro account, I'd love you forever. I'm not sure who in their right minds would buy someone else an account, but I'm just offering the suggestion...I would DEFINITELY love you forever. :)

 

(Day 61/365, July 30, 2010)

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

[297:365]

 

"I shall write peace upon your wings, and you shall fly around the world" - Sadako Sasaki

 

-----

 

Thursday; done! Come on Friday!

 

A while ago I was sent a package in the mail and inside the package there were dozens of folded cranes. I keep meaning to shoot them for this project but hadn't yet gotten around to it, so tonight when Nard and I set out to beat the rain and try to take advantage of what little light there was I brought one along for the journey. Turns out it was a good idea because I really like the way this turned out.

 

So funny story of the day, after lunch hour today I came back to my desk to drop my latte off before heading up a floor to deliver my Mom her tea and chocolate bar that I'd picked up for her and when I came back down my latte was gone! A note that read "S, thanx for the coffee, IAP" was where my beverage once sat!

 

Can you believe that, my boss stole my drink! Only he didn't really. He just hid it in his office until I was said "Really? You stole my tea?". He then brought my drink to me and said he didn't realize it was tea so I could have it back now.

 

What a guy.

 

I think tomorrow I'll have to buy two beverages while I'm out so he can have one of his own. Still, I found the stunt humorous, and since no latte was harmed in the prank no damage was done!

 

Otherwise, a rather chaotic day trying to get things done for one of the folks I work for who was out of town and trying to get back to the city to catch a flight out of the country. In the end everything worked out and he managed to not go completely into panic mode.

 

Not a bad day and it went by quickly! Fingers crossed tomorrow goes as quickly!

 

Hope everyone has had a good day.

 

Click "L" for a larger view.

I was in front of Creativoo office and i saw this little chenapan, it ran under a car and BAM photo ! Vuk (the serbian guy in the agency) let me his computer so i was able to go to internet but China Telecom kinda pissed me off.

The now arts centre, original guildhall and jail on St Peter’s Hill in Grantham was commissioned in 1866 by Mayor Thomas Winter after criminal Jesse Dale, who was serving 15 years for stealing, twice walked out of the town’s original jail in 1864.

 

This original Guildhall and jail building stood on the corner of Guildhall Street and High Street and dated from 1787. After Jesse’s second escape, the governor at the time William Mayer was sacked and a government inspector condemned the building. The inmates had to be sent to Lincoln. The site of the demolished Guildhall was bought by the Stamford, Boston and Spalding Bank (later Barclays) and is now home to the Goose at the Bank pub. To set the scene, a visitor to beerinthe evening described it thus: "Usually one cask beer available. This pub seems to attract the local mongs and low-life. Tracksuits are a must!". "Knobcakes the lot of them"!

 

Back to the story, on the current Guildhall site was an old school – The Firs – housed in a former town house. This and the adjoining land were bought for £2,100. Lincoln architect William Watkins drew up the design for the new building and the work was carried out Mr Wartnaby, of Little Gonerby, for £7,260.

 

The original Guildhall was made up of three separate buildings - the main building which housed a ballroom and courtroom (or session’s hall), a governor’s residence and a jail for up to 18 men and women on two floors.

 

However, although it seemed no expense had been spared on the building, officers from the South Lincolnshire Militia were less than happy to find it was missing a certain facility when they booked to use the hall – a toilet. At this point, councillors agreed one should be installed to avoid further embarrassment.

 

The new Guildhall was also home to the four-sided clock which was the first time many of the town’s residents would have had the luxury of telling the time with any accuracy. It was this fact that coined the local phrase ‘under the clock’ meaning, ‘to appear in court’.

 

As late as 1930, publican Frank Milner of the Victoria Hotel, Commercial Road, was let off with a caution for serving out of hours because he set his time by the clock which was, and still is, a little slow.

 

In 1882 an area of the building was leased to cigar makers Robinson and Barnsdale and 15 years later, to the Grantham Technical Institute. Staff who work at the Guildhall today are convinced it is home to a cigar-smoking ghost as, on occasions, the strong smell of cigar smoke will appear in one or more rooms and then after a few minutes, disappear as quickly as it came.

 

In 1972, a dome replaced the original wrought ironwork over the clock tower and in 1974, the magistrates moved to the London Road, now home to Belvoir Property Management. In the same year, South Kesteven District Council was born and the Grantham Borough Council ceased to exist.

 

Apart from the Mayor’s Parlour, much of the building was redundant until 1991 when it was redesigned by Sleaford architect Tim Benton and re-opened as the council owned Guildhall Arts Centre at a cost of £1.2 million.

 

This renovation work saw the session’s hall transformed into the 210-seat theatre and the ballroom was redecorated to its former glory, with the main entrance being at the side of the building. The jail area was converted into the box office.

 

In 2010 an exciting refurbishment, saw the box office move to the front of the building and the grand victorian entrance being used once more, a new coffee shop was housed in the jail where the kitchen area is still referred to as ‘the back cell.’.

 

As can be seen it is tastefully illuminated at night, easily seen when avoiding the Goose at the bank!

 

NB: Like all the images on this stream, full size prints up to 30x20inches are available, Check my profile for how to contact me.

 

Checkout more buildings from my photostream.

 

Keep in touch, add me as a contact www.flickr.com/relationship.gne?id=33062170@N08 so I can follow all your new uploads.

 

(c) Hotpix / HotpixUK Tony Smith - Hotpix.freeserve.co.uk WDCC

For 365 Days, TOTW, and June is for Jumping.

This week - Love.

I love Office Space. Who doesn't love Office Space? If you haven't seen it, I suggest renting or illegally downloading it immediately. Here's a preview.

TRF: I bought the poster board and construction paper at Dollar Tree and spent like an hour and a half making this. I've become a crazy Flickr person! :-)

This was one of those nightmarish days you only dream about.

 

It began at 7:30 with that crazy park lady. I walk far away from her now. I park in a different place and walk a quarter-mile from her. But when she sees me, she walks directly at me, no matter where I am and who I'm with. Today, I was picking raspberries. I stopped when she walked toward me. I walked in the woods. I think she followed me, but I went fast, came out on the other side, and walked in the road. She is really ruining my days when I see her, which, fortunately, is once a week.

 

I came home and worked on cutting glass for awhile, and then I went skating. I also dropped some things off at the post office and attempted to buy stamps, but my card wouldn't scan, and the post office REFUSED to enter the number manually. They said it was against store policy. I asked for the manager. He wouldn't come out. I banged on his door. He wouldn't come out. A supervisor came to talk to me. She couldn't answer any of my questions. All she knew was, "They wouldn't take mines, either."

 

I went home angry and found a message from my mother that the travel agent wants to make sure my daughter has a passport confirmation. Except that I have tried that every day, and it hasn't worked. It still didn't. I called the passport office once again (I called last week, and a woman said she'd e-mail DC to put a rush on it), and I was told to press one and three and zero, and then the machine told me there were too many callers waiting, and it hung up. Seventeen times. And then when I finally got through, I was on the phone for 59 minutes.

 

The woman at the passport office told me there's no record of my daughter's application, that I can try to make an appointment for one of the three days this week that it's open before the trip, but she won't guarantee that I get an appointment, and no one's reimbursing us the thousands of dollars for the tickets.

 

Then I called the post office, and I was told, "This is what I can do for you, ma'am. I will call myself." I asked about the canceled money order, and the woman said, "I just told you what I could do for you. Don't try to tell me what I can do for you. I am doing what I told you I would do, now let me do that without telling me...."

 

She said she'd call in the morning. Meanwhile, I can pay $5 to put a trace on the money order.

 

I wrote to my congressman. I sent a third e-mail to the passport office, and it was actually answered today. There's no record of my daughter's passport. The person who wrote told me to call the passport office again.

 

I went to a self-defense class tonight. I punched the bag very, very hard. It was a very, very bad bag.

 

(But the instructor's son, holding the bag, was truly a hottie.)

 

(For 365 Days. This is Day 262. )

 

I skated for one hour today. It was my only pleasure. I didn't even enjoy the beers.

 

I can still laugh, as long as there's Engrish.

I am not getting bigheaded on you here, it's just the image that this song put in my head ;-)

 

please listen to this de.youtube.com/watch?v=IpcV02eNb00&feature=related when viewing this.

 

was gonna ad an oscar at first but then thought that THAT would be bigheaded, lol

  

Robbie Williams: I will talk and Hollywood will listen

 

I wouldn't be so alone

If they knew my name in every home

Kevin Spacey would call on the phone

But I'd be too busy

Come back to the old five and dime

Cameron Diaz give me a sign

I'd make you smile all the time

Your conversation would compliment mine

 

I will talk and Hollywood will listen

See them bow at my every word

Mr Spielberg look just what you're missing

Doesn't that seem a little absurd

Bow at my every word

 

Buy up the rights to my book

Live on a ranch from what the box office took

I'll go and visit the set

They'll call me their saviour

All the peoples will scorn celebrity

Lives on the moon

But, I'll be back home in June

To promote the sequel

 

I will talk and Hollywood will listen

See them bow at my every word

Mr. Spielberg look just what you're missing

Doesn't that seem a little absurd

Bow at my every word

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"Anyway, so one of the things that I bought at the magic store was this: Tannen's Mystery Magic Box. The premise behind the mystery magic box was the following: 15 dollars buys you 50 dollars worth of magic. Which is a savings. Now, I bought this deades ago and I'm not kidding. Ifyou look at this, you'll see it's never been opened. But I've had this forever.

 

Now, I was looking at this, it was in my office, as it always is, on the shelf, and I was thinking, why have I not opened this? And why have I kept it? Because I'm not a pack rat. I don't keep everything but for some reason I haven't opened this box.

 

And I felt like there was a key to this, somehow, in talking about something at TED that I haven't discussed before, and bored people elsewhere. So I thought, maybe there's something with this. I started thinking about it. And there was this giant question mark. I love the design, for what it's worth, of this thing.

 

And I started thinking, why haven't I opened it?" -- J.J. Abrams, creator of Lost, speaking at the TED conference, March 2007

 

It's a long quote, but you should listen to the whole talk. It's pretty awesome, and it's something I refer back to occasionally when I'm seeking inspiration from a creative mind.

 

I feel the same way about boxes, mostly, in the sense that I love the mystery. Because I lean to the side of literature, a box to me can be more than physical packaging. For me, titles are often a huge mystery box. I love titles. When they're done correctly, they can give you a little insight into everything, but not enough that they give everything away.

 

That's one reason I love these little ? boxes so much. If you ever played any of the Mario games, you'll recognize the prop. But you never knew what was going to pop out of the box when Mario hit it. Would it be a coin, a power item . . . or something else?

 

Why, yes! I'd love to send you free images!

Join up with the AWESOME PRINT GIVEAWAY SPECATULAR!

 

114/365

February 12, 2015 - I'm really a black and white and shades of grey sort of person. But I do like splashes of colour and these nested mixing bowls were an impulse buy this afternoon when I stopped in at a cooks store on my way back to the office this afternoon.

 

The melamine reminds me of my Grandma's kitchen bowls, and I just loved the vivid rainbow of colours.

 

www.the-philosophical-fish.ca/archives/24279

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Went out to do a little photo walk with Matt this afternoon and it was super hot. Before though, I went and picked up a pretty cool little accessory for my iPad. For some reason, I felt compelled to pick up the iPad camera connection kit since I bought mine. Since I primarily shoot a 50D (uses CF cards), I was a little hesitant to do it. Well, today my hesitation ran out. Along with my hesitation, I also ended up running out of room on my CF card too. Having the sense to also carry my T1i, I switched out and continued shooting. Here is where my new gadget came in handy.

 

Instead of needing to be in my office planted in front of my Mac, I was able to grab this shot off my card and edit it on my iPad. It did cost me an extra 5 bucks as I also took a gamble on a more versatile editing app than the free version of Photoshop Express I'd always used. Since I already use several different applications for editing from NIK Software on my Mac, I purchased NIK Snapseed for iPad. This really is an amazing app and I will definately be reviewing it in more detail in the future (stay tuned).

 

Here's the best part though. This photo was taken right off my SD card to my iPad, edited on my iPad and uploaded to flickr straight from the editing software. Really convenient for a busy dude on a project 365. I only wish I could add a little typo but that seems to be my only wish list item.

 

Canon T1i | Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 USM

Seriously. Look at my roots. And I do not have a nose piercing. There is something INSIDE the lens. Anyone know how to fix that?

To my dear friends around the world,

  

About one year ago photography was my most precious hobby. I really liked it and took photos every now and then. I somehow felt that if I wanted to take this thing to the next level, I had to do something extraordinary. A couple of days before New Year's Eve I decided to pull a 365er since I've seen other photographers do it. It really felt like a great idea and I just went for it. What could possibly happen?

  

I signed up for FlickR on January 1st 2013. I wanted to have some sort of diary of the process and the chance to maybe get an audience. I will never forget the moment where the first person favorited a photo of mine and even commented it. It was amazing to see that there are others out there that seem to like what I'm seeing and feeling. As the days and weeks passed by, I still wasn't too sure about what I wanted to shoot. As you can see, my first uploads don't really have a common theme and idea. It was great that way, but after a while I lacked the fuel that kept my machine running. I didn't really have a motor behind my works.

  

After a couple of weeks street photography more and more became an interest of mine. What made me feel really insecure in the first 1-2 months was the fact, that my street photography was in a way different compared to the rest of the street photography community. I just had these typical street shots in black and white with lots of things going on in them in mind and I just couldn't do it. I tried and tried and thought that after I was lousy at portrait photography, this whole photography thing wasn't meant for me. I knew I had something in me, but I just couldn't really set if free. After a while I said to myself "You know what Marius, this is your project and life and you can do whatever you think is right! Most people don't care for your project anyways...". With this attitude in mind I just kept going to give street photography my signture. It felt amazing to take photos the way I felt 'em without thinking in terms of genres and rules. I felt as though I broke my chains for the first time.

  

"Urban Lights", the second most favorited photo I took changed everything back then. As a huge fan of www.reddit.com I submitted this photo to the international Reddit & WideAngle Photo contest just for the fun of it. I never forget the moment when they told me that I was the 1st winner of this contest with a very high quality. I was in tears since this project meant and still means the world to me. This was one of the first moments where I realized that maybe my photography might better than I think. Although awards don't really mean anything to me, it felt amazing to know that even judges liked what I was doing. During the course of the project I won 10 awards around the world and made it to 6 shortlists. These awards made me happy, but I'll never forget the first time someone told me that they started out with photography because of me or that I inspired them. This still puts a smile on my face that no award of prize money could ever give me. I really don't care for money, I care for people.

  

This project changed everything. At first it was a nice change of scene after sitting in the office for 9-10 hours a day as a market researcher for an international media agency. However, after 5-6 months I felt that this photography thing became more important to me than my job. I used every free minute I had to take new shots and did my post processing till 2AM every day. All of a sudden my job that I got straight out of college and that I went to college for (communication science, psychology and marketing) was the change of scenary for me. My heart and soul were commited to my photography. It wasn't a hobby anymore and it wasn't just a passion of mine - it was my life.

  

It wasn't until South Korea that I truly realized that. I took three weeks off to just get some shooting done. Walking down the streets of Seoul got me thinking. How amazing would it be to just travel around the world and take photos. This would be a dream of a life. People over there asked me what I'm doing for a living. I couldn't tell them that I'm a market researcher since I wasn't doing that anymore. I was doing that for a living, but I was living for photography. I always told 'em that and it felt right. Truly right. When I got back from Korea back to my everday life we had a new CEO that wanted to talk to everyone since he was new to the office. He sat down with me and at the end of our conversation he asked me how long I'll stay here since fluctuation was a huge problem. I told him "Look, I could tell you anything right now, but I'm gonna be honest with you. I want to live my dream and I'm gonna leave soon." This was really hard but liberating to say. It was a huuuuge step for me. I felt somehow miserable and relieved for days to come. I told my other supervisors one hour after our talk and handed in my notice one week later. It takes 4 month to get out of my job, so I'm gonna be free in March to live my dream. Even if my old job pays well and offers me a high standard of living, that's not what I want in life. I don't care for money neither do I care for materialistic happiness. True happiness can't be bought. It's the simple things in life like breathing the air, looking at the stars, eating good food, laughing and sharing moments with wonderful people. That's why I love life and art.

  

I always dreamed of this kind of life. Quite a few galeries in Germany are interested in my work and together with an international art dealer I will start to sell my art soon. It's a dream coming true. It demands hard work and perseverance, but hey, let's make the impossible possible. Mark Twain once said that "The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why." This project showed me that I want to live as an artist and photographer. I want to thank everyone who was and still is a part of this journey from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't have done it without you. You seriously mean the world to me!

  

Marius Vieth, January the 19th 2014

  

PS: Since FlickR is really limited when it comes to posts, I will post all news, travel experiences, exhibitions and all other news around my art on my Facebook page. In case you use Facebook, I would love to have you there!

  

PSII: There is not much post processing involved in the photo. It was really foggy that night and I exhaled quite a few times to get that "face". Increased the contrast a little, did some split toning and my most favorite self-portrait was done.

 

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Umm, here's an idea. Moto crawled up on my back and dug in. Mrs.Thomas saved me and got him down. Then I though it would make good a picture, so I whipped out my camera and tripod.

I think it turned out pretty cool.

Really annoyed about tonight's photo shoot. The Paramount does classic movie night on Friday for $5. I've been before, it's a great night of entertainment for cheap. I went again to shoot the theater while I was there. They let me buy my ticket then searched my bag and only when it came time to scan my ticket did they tell me that I couldn't have my bag. Tickets sales are final, of course so I couldn't have my money back either. Between a combination of annoyance and not wanting to trust my camera bag to being checked I decided to just bail on it and go shoot the exterior. At least that put me outside during a brief window of really awesome light just after the sun went down. What really annoys me is that while there are signs at the box office that say no backpacks or large bags they didn't tell me that I couldn't take my bag in and were only happy to take my money. I also noticed several people bringing purses and other bags that were of equivilant size into the theater without getting hassled. I guess it depends on what capricious and arbitrary decision security is going to make that determines whether you can bring a bag in. If their concern is people bringing in food or drink, the bag check I was subjected to should have taken care of that. I'm just trying to decide whether I even want to go back on one of their tour days to shoot. Their website links to a photographers page where he's got all kinds of images up of the interior - it's not photography that they are stopping here. It's bags that are "too big". Whatever.

 

Edit: Seen in Flickr Explore on September 25, 2009 #105

Oh yeah it's Friday!

 

I got to leave early from work today and pick the kids up with Lydia, which was sweet.

 

In fact work was quite relaxed today, I guess because it's Friday we were all winding down for the weekend so we had a good laugh.

 

Ben seemed to love being at the after school club he goes to, he was in such a good mood when we picked him up and buzzing all over the place! Joe and Ben were both in a much better mood than yesterday so we had a nice evening with them.

 

I wish I could've posted something a little lighter to reflect the fact that I've actually had a ruddy good day today - the only reason this shot is so dark is because I had no other ideas. My mind is a barren wasteland of creativity at the moment.

 

Having said all that, I'm quite pleased to have got out of the house for a few of my shots this week, even if it has just been as far as my back garden, or the office. Looking back I'm quite pleased with my shots over the last five days or so . . . granted they were atrocious straight out of camera but Lighroom did it's thing and saved them. Just.

 

I've basically had to get out of the house because of my lack of ideas, which in retrospect has been a good thing as it's introduced a bit of variety into my 365, and made me think a bit more about composition and stuff. I'm hoping this will continue, I've just got to think of some other places I can easily reach on foot and that won't encroach on family time.

 

As for today's shot, I'm revisiting good old ghetto lighting in an absence of any better ideas. The admittedly small twist is I angled the shot so I was shooting at a downwards angle and looking up. The lighting comes from that weird circular LCD light Lydia bought, which I've used before for day 49.

 

I think this is a first for my 365 because apart from a slight crop this shot is straight out of camera - a rare feat indeed.

 

I did want to take a shot in the back garden but it was raining and I'm no expert but I'm guessing that rain and an SLR that doesn't belong to me don't mix too good, so I settled for some indoors moody lighting instead.

 

It's my day 100 tomorrow and all week I've been trying to think of something uber-cool to do with no success. I do have one idea but it's going to be difficult with my limited knowledge of lighting and lack of the right equipment to pull it off. Oh yeah and I had another idea but I know that Daz. and Stephen Poff have done it before so it feels like a bit of a steal. And again I don't actually think I have the know-how or gear to make it work.

 

Maybe I should stop worrying and just see what pans out? It's day 365 I really need to worry about - I'm petrified of bowing out with a lame ass shot!

 

Finally, I have to mention my band of the month again - Glasvegas.

 

I've listened to almost nothing else all week. It's totally different to what I'd normally listen to but there's something about their music that sends jolts down my spine.

 

I read a review of their album in Q magazine last week that sums them up perfectly:

 

"The thrill of Glasvegas is their marriage of tragic content with joyful noise".

 

Never have truer words been spoken. If you listen to it you don't know whether to feel sad or bounce up and down like a lunatic. The narrative within the songs is so heartwrenching at times (see Flowers and Football Tops) but the music is so widescreen and epic you don't know what to do with yourself.

 

Geraldine is my favourite from the album, it's so simple I worked it out on my acoustic without listening to it and humming the melody but . . . wow. I can't tell you how much I love that song.

 

The fact that it's sung in a really strong Scottish accent makes the whole thing ten times better and more personal for me - I have Scottish relatives and very strong ties to Scotland. I'd move there in a heartbeat if I could convince Lydia.

 

So. Go give them a listen. They are awesome.

 

Yep. Big. On black.

Today I bought the Barbra Streisand "My Passion for Design", which I've wanted ever since I saw it come out on the selfs, around December. Apparently she has taken the photographs in this book.. and its a private tour of her latest home... I can't wait to read it.........but seriously.......who do I think I am??

 

I also stopped for paint, because I think the flickr office is going to be tooo yellow, but thankfully I had a big discussion with the paint service lady and we decieded I should try a different lightbulb - sort of a lightbulb moment...and saves me a lot of effort. We shall see. The problem is that I love love love the yellow in the daylight, but hate it at night with the artifical light.......hopefully this pure white bulb will make a big enough difference.

Then I had big chats with Linda on the phone and will be picking up her mail while she is gone.

its cold out there and not much fun. I made a little bridge out of popcycle sticks for We're Here and thats about all the fun I could squeeze into today. Long weekend coming up and I have the urge to make an upside down pineaple cake........but trying to hold off till its closer to Easter, I might have to give in sooner though...cause I want it bad!

anyhow.........I hope you had a great day. I'll be spending the night with Barbra.......and flickr of course!!

later flickr people. have a great weekend.

362/365 - 12/28/2011

 

Money can't buy the feeling of getting home safely after a winter storm. I snapped this one from my office window before heading out.

 

Here in Montreal we actually got less snow than expected but tonight the temperature is supposed to drop to -17 ºC (1.4 ºF) with a windchill of -29 ºC (-20.2 ºF). BLECH!

 

For Our Daily Challenge.

 

The challenge - Money can't buy

Last Sunday we went to Office Depot, and I couldn't resist ... I need bought a cute notebook and a lovely pen. If you'd follow my photos since last year [366 project, 2012], you already know that I love all kinds of notebooks, pencils, colors, pens and all that, I simply love it. So, I think this is my Guilty Pleasures (theme of the week). :P

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

El domingo pasado fuimos a Office Depot, y no pude resistirlo ... Tuve que comprar un cuaderno y una pluma linda y encantadora. Si sigues mis fotos desde el año pasado [Proyecto 365, 2012], ya sabes que me encanta todo tipo de cuadernos, lápices, colores, bolígrafos y todo eso, simplemente me encanta. Por lo tanto, creo que este es mi Placer Culpable (tema de la semana). :P

had to go to london for a work meeting. Thought I'd try capture something stereotypically london today. This was the best I could get in the close proximity to the office. I was quite happy with the sunburst :)

 

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Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

Charlotte Square is a city square in Edinburgh, Scotland, part of the New Town, designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The square is located at the west end of George Street, intended to mirror St. Andrew Square in the east.

 

Initially named St. George's Square in James Craig's original plan, it was renamed before completion after King George III's Queen and first daughter, to avoid confusion with George Square, in the south of the city. Charlotte Square was the last part of the initial phase of the New Town to be completed in 1820. Much of it was to the 1791 design of Robert Adam, who died in 1792, just as building began.

 

In 1939 a very sizable air-raid shelter was created under the south side of the gardens, accessed from the street to the south.

 

In 2013 the south side was redeveloped in an award-winning scheme, creating major new office floorspace behind a restored series of townhouses

 

Gardens: The garden was originally laid out as a level circular form by William Weir in 1808.

 

In 1861 a plan was drawn up by Robert Matheson, Clerk of Works for Scotland for a larger, more square garden, centred upon a memorial to the recently deceased Prince Albert, the consort of Queen Victoria.

 

The commission for the sculpture was granted in 1865 to Sir John Steell. The main statue features an equestrian statue of the prince, in field marshal's uniform, dwarfing the four figures around the base. It was unveiled by Queen Victoria herself in 1876.[The stone plinth was designed by the architect David Bryce and the four corner figures are by David Watson Stevenson (Science and Learning/Labour), Clark Stanton (Army and Navy) and William Brodie (Nobility).

 

This remodelling featured major new tree-planting which took many years to re-establish.

 

The central open space is a private garden, available to owners of the surrounding properties. For the last three weeks in August each year Charlotte Square gardens are the site of the Edinburgh International Book Festival.

 

The railings around the gardens were removed in 1940 as part of the war effort. The current railings date from 1947

Buildings: On the north side, No. 5 was the home of John Crichton-Stuart, 4th Marquess of Bute (1881–1947), who bought it in 1903 and gave it to the National Trust for Scotland on his death. It was the Trust headquarters from 1949 to 2000. Bute did much to promote the preservation of the Square.

 

Nos. 6 and 7 are also owned by the National Trust for Scotland. No.6, Bute House is the official residence of the First Minister of Scotland. In 1806 it was home to Sir John Sinclair creator of the first Statistical Account of Scotland. No. 7 was internally restored by the Trust in 1975 to its original state, and is open to the public as The Georgian House. The upper floor was formerly the official residence of the Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. The building includes one fireplace brought from Hill of Tarvit in Fife in 1975.

 

West Register House, formerly St. George's Church, forms the centre of the west side. It was designed by the architect Robert Reid in 1811, broadly to Adam's plan. The church opened in 1814 and was converted to its current use in 1964. It is one of the main buildings of the National Records of Scotland

 

Residents: James Syme, the surgeon, lived at No.9 and his son-in-law Joseph Lister, lived there from 1870-1877. No. 13 was home to Sir William Fettes and No. 14 the house of Whig lawyer, historian and conservationist Lord Cockburn. Viscount Haldane was born at No.17 and another soldier, Field Marshal Earl Haig, was born at No. 24. Robert Reid designed No. 44 as his own home. Pioneer of the telephone, Alexander Graham Bell, was born in nearby South Charlotte Street. [Wikipedia ]

Information from: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysler_Building

  

The Chrysler Building is an Art Deco skyscraper in New York City, located on the east side of Manhattan in the Turtle Bay area at the intersection of 42nd Street and Lexington Avenue. Standing at 319 metres (1,047 ft),[4][5] it was the world's tallest building for 11 months before it was surpassed by the Empire State Building in 1931. After the destruction of the World Trade Center, it was again the second-tallest building in New York City until December 2007, when the spire was raised on the 365.8-metre (1,200 ft) Bank of America Tower, pushing the Chrysler Building into third position. In addition, The New York Times Building which opened in 2007, is exactly level with the Chrysler Building in height.[6]

 

The Chrysler Building is a classic example of Art Deco architecture and considered by many contemporary architects to be one of the finest buildings in New York City. In 2007, it was ranked ninth on the List of America's Favorite Architecture by the American Institute of Architects.[7] It was the headquarters of the Chrysler Corporation from 1930 until the mid 1950's, but although the building was built and designed specifically for the car manufacturer, the corporation didn't pay for the construction of it and never owned it, as Walter P. Chrysler decided to pay for it himself, so that his children could inherit it.[8]

 

Contents [hide]

1 History

1.1 Design beginnings

1.2 Construction

1.3 Completion

1.4 Property

2 Architecture

2.1 Crown ornamentation

2.2 Crown usage

2.3 Lighting

2.4 Recognition and appeal

3 Cultural depictions

4 Quotations

5 Gallery

6 See also

7 References

8 Notes

9 External links

  

[edit] History

 

The Chrysler Building in 1932

View from Empire State Building, 2005

Chrysler Building and eastern Midtown ManhattanThe Chrysler Building was designed by architect William Van Alen for a project of Walter P. Chrysler.[8] When the ground breaking occurred on September 19, 1928, there was an intense competition in New York City to build the world's tallest skyscraper.[9][10] Despite a frantic pace (the building was built at an average rate of four floors per week), no workers died during the construction of this skyscraper.[11]

 

[edit] Design beginnings

Van Alen's original design for the skyscraper called for a decorative jewel-like glass crown. It also featured a base in which the showroom windows were tripled in height and topped by twelve stories with glass-wrapped corners, creating an impression that the tower appeared physically and visually light as if floating on mid-air.[8] The height of the skyscraper was also originally designed to be 246 metres (807 ft).[11] However, the design proved to be too advanced and costly for building contractor William H. Reynolds, who disapproved of Van Alen's original plan.[12] The design and lease were then sold to Walter P. Chrysler, who worked with Van Alen and redesigned the skyscraper for additional stories; it was eventually revised to be 282 metres (925 ft) tall.[11] As Walter Chrysler was the chairman of the Chrysler Corporation and intended to make the building into Chrysler's headquarters,[11] various architectural details and especially the building's gargoyles were modeled after Chrysler automobile products like the hood ornaments of the Plymouth; they exemplify the machine age in the 1920s (see below).[13][14]

 

[edit] Construction

Construction commenced on September 19, 1928.[11] In total, almost 400,000 rivets were used[11] and approximately 3,826,000 bricks were manually laid, to create the non-loadbearing walls of the skyscraper.[15] Contractors, builders and engineers were joined by other building-services experts to coordinate construction.

 

Prior to its completion, the building stood about even with a rival project at 40 Wall Street, designed by H. Craig Severance. Severance increased the height of his project and then publicly claimed the title of the world's tallest building[16] (this distinction excluded structures that were not fully habitable, such as the Eiffel Tower[17]). In response, Van Alen obtained permission for a 56.3-metre (185 ft) long spire[18] and had it secretly constructed inside the frame of the building. The spire was delivered to the site in 4 different sections.[19] On October 23, 1929, the bottom section of the spire was hoisted onto the top of the building's dome and lowered into the 66th floor of the building. The other remaining sections of the spire were hoisted and riveted to the first one in sequential order in just 90 minutes.[20]

 

[edit] Completion

Upon completion, May 20, 1930,[11] the added height of the spire allowed the Chrysler Building to surpass 40 Wall Street as the tallest building in the world and the Eiffel Tower as the tallest structure. It was the first man-made structure to stand taller than 1,000 feet (305 m). Van Alen's satisfaction in these accomplishments was likely muted by Walter Chrysler's later refusal to pay the balance of his architectural fee.[8] Less than a year after it opened to the public on May 27, 1931, the Chrysler Building was surpassed in height by the Empire State Building, but the Chrysler Building is still the world's tallest steel-supported brick building.[21][22] (The world's tallest brick building without steel is St. Martin's Church in Landshut begun in 1389.)[citation needed]

  

Height comparison of buildings in New York City[edit] Property

The east building wall of the base out of which the tower rises runs at a slant to the Manhattan street grid, following a property line that predated the Commissioners' Plan of 1811.[23] The land on which the Chrysler Building stands was donated to The Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art,[24] a private college that offers every admitted student a full tuition scholarship, in 1902. The land was originally leased to William H. Reynolds, but when he was unable to raise money for the project, the building and the rights to the land were acquired by Walter P. Chrysler in 1928.[24][25] Contrary to popular belief, the Chrysler Corporation was never involved in the construction or ownership of the Chrysler Building, although it was built and designed for the corporation and served as its headquarters until the mid 1950s. It was a project of Walter P. Chrysler for his children.[8]

 

The ownership of the building has changed several times. The Chrysler family sold the building in 1947, and in 1957 it was purchased by real-estate moguls Sol Goldman and Alex DiLorenzo, and owned by Massachusetts Mutual Life Insurance Company. The lobby was refurbished and the facade renovated in 1978–1979.[26] The building was owned by Jack Kent Cooke, a Washington, D.C. investor, in 1979. The spire underwent a restoration that was completed in 1995. In 1998, Tishman Speyer Properties and the Travelers Insurance Group bought the Chrysler Building, at 42nd Street and Lexington Avenue, and the adjoining Kent Building in 1997 for about $220 million from a consortium of banks and the estate of Jack Kent Cooke. Tishman Speyer Properties had negotiated a 150 year lease on the land from Cooper Union, which had held the lease before 1997, and continues to hold the land lease.[27]

 

In 2001, a 75% stake in the building was sold, for US$ 300 million, to TMW, the German arm of an Atlanta-based investment fund.[28] On June 11, 2008 it was reported that the Abu Dhabi Investment Council was in negotiations to buy TMW's 75% economic interest, and a 15% interest from Tishman Speyer Properties in the building, and a share of the Trylons retail structure next door for US$ 800 million.[29] On July 9, 2008 it was announced that the transaction had been completed, and that the Abu Dhabi Investment Council was now the 90% owner of the building.[27][30]

 

[edit] Architecture

 

Detail of the Art Deco ornamentation at the crownThe Chrysler Building is considered a masterpiece of Art Deco architecture. The distinctive ornamentation of the building based on features that were then being used on Chrysler automobiles. The corners of the 61st floor are graced with eagles, replicas of the 1929 Chrysler hood ornaments;[31] on the 31st floor, the corner ornamentation are replicas of the 1929 Chrysler radiator caps.[32] The building is constructed of masonry, with a steel frame, and metal cladding. In total, the building currently contains 3,862 windows on its facade and 4 banks of 8 elevators designed by the Otis Elevator Corporation.[11] The building was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1976.[3][33]

 

[edit] Crown ornamentation

The Chrysler Building is also well renowned and recognized for its terraced crown. Composed of seven radiating terraced arches, Van Alen's design of the crown is a cruciform groin vault constructed into seven concentric members with transitioning setbacks, mounted up one behind each other.[34] The stainless-steel cladding is ribbed and riveted in a radiating sunburst pattern with many triangular vaulted windows, transitioning into smaller segments of the seven narrow setbacks of the facade of the terraced crown. The entire crown is clad with silvery "Enduro KA-2" metal, an austenitic stainless steel developed in Germany by Krupp and marketed under the trade name "Nirosta" (a German acronym for nichtrostender Stahl, meaning "non-rusting steel").[8][35]

 

[edit] Crown usage

When the building first opened, it contained a public viewing gallery on the 71st floor, which was closed to the public in 1945. This floor is now the highest-occupied floor, most recently occupied by an office space management firm.[36] The private Cloud Club occupied a three-floor high space from the 66th–68th floors, but closed in the late 1970s. Above the 71st floor, the stories of the building are designed mostly for exterior appearance, functioning mainly as landings for the stairway to the spire. Very narrow with low, sloped ceilings, these top stories are useful only for holding radio-broadcasting and other mechanical and electrical equipment.[11] Television station WCBS-TV (Channel 2) originally transmitted from the top of the Chrysler in the 1940s and early 1950s, before moving to the Empire State Building.[11] For many years, WPAT-FM and WTFM (now WKTU) also used the Chrysler Building as a transmission site, but they also moved to the Empire by the 1970s. There are currently no commercial broadcast stations located at the Chrysler Building.

 

[edit] Lighting

There are two sets of lighting in the top spires and decoration. The first are the V-shaped lighting inserts in the steel of the building itself. Added later were groups of floodlights which are on mast arms directed back at the building. This allows the top of the building to be lit in many colors for special occasions. This lighting was installed by electrician Charles Londner and crew during construction.[11]

 

[edit] Recognition and appeal

In more recent years, the Chrysler Building has continued to be a favorite among New Yorkers. In the summer of 2005, New York's own Skyscraper Museum asked one hundred architects, builders, critics, engineers, historians, and scholars, among others, to choose their 10 favorites among 25 New York towers. The Chrysler Building came in first place as 90% of them placed the building in their top-10 favorite buildings.[37]

 

The Chrysler Building's distinctive profile has inspired similar skyscrapers worldwide, including One Liberty Place in Philadelphia.[38][39]

 

[edit] Cultural depictions

The Chrysler Building has been featured in several television programs, movies, and other media. Below are examples.

 

In an early episode of Saturday Night Live the Coneheads launch the building as a rocketship to return to their home planet. In the 1982 Larry Cohen film Q a winged serpent terrorizing New York is nesting inside the building's crown; the film's poster depicts the monster perched atop the building holding an attractive blonde victim in its claws. (The poster's monster is enormously out of scale to its size in the movie.) The Chrysler Building was also a short scene in the movie Predator 2 where the predator is holding a trophy raising it up on the building. The artwork was done by Michael Whelan.[40] In Deep Impact (1998) a wall of water surrounds the skyscraper and people can be seen on the 61st-floor observation deck fleeing to the other side of the building.[41] The tower was also prominently featured and being destroyed in the 1998 film, Godzilla,[41] and in Armageddon, which featured the tower being struck by a meteor, causing its spire to come crashing to the ground.[41] In another film, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, while Johnny Storm chases the Silver Surfer through Manhattan, the Silver Surfer flies straight through the Chrysler Building.[42][43] Towards the end of Steven Spielberg's A.I.: Artificial Intelligence, the Chrysler Building is seen totally underwater as the mechas guide their spacecraft through the submerged ruins of Manhattan.[41]> In the film Spider-Man, Spider-Man perches on top of one of the building's gargoyles, mourning his Uncle Ben's murder.[41] Matthew Barney's art film Cremaster 3 (2002) narrates a fantastical version of the building's construction.

 

In the music scene, Meat Loaf's 1993 album Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell's cover art depicts a demonic bat clinging to the top floors of the Chrysler Building. The Chrysler Building has also appeared in numerous video games such as Parasite Eve and Grand Theft Auto IV, being replicated as the "Zirconium Building".[44][45]

 

[edit] Quotations

Wikiquote has a collection of quotations related to: Chrysler Building

"Art Deco in France found its American equivalent in the design of the New York skyscrapers of the 1920s. The Chrysler Building ... was one of the most accomplished essays in the style."

–John Julius Norwich, in The World Atlas of Architecture

"The design, originally drawn up for building contractor William H. Reynolds, was finally sold to Walter P. Chrysler, who wanted a provocative building which would not merely scrape the sky but positively pierce it. Its 77 floors briefly making it the highest building in the world—at least until the Empire State Building was completed—it became the star of the New York skyline, thanks above all to its crowning peak. In a deliberate strategy of myth generation, Van Alen planned a dramatic moment of revelation: the entire seven-storey pinnacle, complete with special-steel facing, was first assembled inside the building, and then hoisted into position through the roof opening and anchored on top in just one and a half hours. All of a sudden it was there—a sensational fait accompli."

–Peter Gossel and Gabriele Leuthauser, in Architecture in the Twentieth Century

"One of the first uses of stainless steel over a large exposed building surface. The decorative treatment of the masonry walls below changes with every set-back and includes story-high basket-weave designs, radiator-cap gargoyles, and a band of abstract automobiles. The lobby is a modernistic composition of African marble and chrome steel."

–Elliot Willensky and Norval White, in AIA Guide to New York

 

this is my morning at the office. You can buy the vinyl stickers on my travel mug and phone from www.redvelvetart.com

oh and you can get the book here www.chroniclebooks.com/index/main,book-info/store,books/p...

Back when I had an office job, I would go to the Best Buy next door on my lunchbreak and price big screen TVs without irony.

 

Now that I'm freelance, those days are long gone.

it's that time of year again. girl scout cookie time. :-)

 

always happy to buy GS cookies. someone in my office has a daughter and so I have a connection. I got two boxes of tagalongs since they're my favorite. got them on thursday and one box is dust already.

 

p.s. my hair is all puffy cuz I just washed it.

 

nighty night~

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

Being an independent bounty hunter has its perks...travel, excitement, make your own hours..

 

But sometimes you just want to stand around the water cooler and chat about the latest Imperial gossip or make up funny office nick names...

.

.

.

btw....before I get accused - my wife actually bought this helmet for the kids..I had nothing to do with it..

Turkish: [looks at the caravan] Look at it. How am I suppose to run this thing from that? We'll need a proper office. I want a new one, Tommy. You're going to buy it for me.

Tommy: Why me?

Turkish: Well, you know about caravans.

Tommy: How's that?

Turkish: You spent a summer in one, which means you know more than me. And I don't want to have my pants pulled down over the price.

Tommy: What's wrong with this one?

Turkish: [Pulls the caravan's door from its hinges] Oh, nothing, Tommy. It's tip top. It's just I'm not sure about the colour.

 

I'm excited... Tomorrow the ArchedRoof book final proof should arrive!

 

EXPLORED: Highest position: 414 on Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My baby's back!!! After 34 hours missing, a kind stranger called me with four words that I've been waiting to hear "I have your dog!" Oshin somehow ended up 5 miles away in Council Bluffs, Iowa... which meant that she had crossed the Missouri River by mean of Interstate 480, where cars and trucks travels 50 mph! Tired, cold and hungry, she survived the single digit temperature night (9Farenheit) somehow found a shelter, then the next afternoon she wondered around Riverpark Apartment Complex construction site. Some construction workers spotted her, thinking they saw a fox, but one of them saw her tags, and made an attempt to catch her, Oshin was hungry so she approached him, ate the food but wouldn't let him catch her. Still cold Oshin followed the lady who was showing the apartment, and once she opened the door, feeling the warmth, Oshin walked into the office. That kind lady then called me and gave me the wonderful news. Oshin's latest adventure involved crossing the state line :) I think she learned her lessons, and so did I. I drove in the snowstorm to get her checked by the vet, gotten all the shots updated, and bought her new fail-proof leash & body harness and the most important thing, got her an advance obedience training.

*That Hell-Bound Train*

by Robert Bloch (1958)

 

When Martin was a little boy, his daddy was a Railroad Man. Daddy never rode the high iron, but he walked the tracks for the CB&Q, and he was proud of his job. And every night when he got drunk, he sang this old song about That Hell-Bound Train.

 

Martin didn't quite remember any of the words, but he couldn't forget the way his Daddy sang them out. And when Daddy made the mistake of getting drunk in the afternoon and got squeezed between a Pennsy tank-car and an AT&SF gondola, Martin sort of wondered why the Brotherhood didn't sing the song at his funeral.

After that, things didn't go so good for Martin, but somehow he always recalled Daddy's song. When Mom up and ran off with a traveling salesman from Keokuk (Daddy must have turned over in his grave, knowing she'd done such a thing, and with a passenger, too!) Martin hummed the tune to himself every night in the Orphan Home. And after Martin himself ran away, he used to whistle the song softly at night in the jungles, after the other bindlestiffs were asleep.

Martin was on the road for four-five years before he realized he wasn't getting anyplace. Of course he'd tried his hand at a lot of things — picking fruit in Oregon, washing dishes in a Montana hash-house, stealing hubcaps in Denver and tires in Oklahoma City — but by the time he'd put in six months on the chain gang down in Alabama he knew he had no future drifting around this way on his own.

 

So he tried to get on the railroad like his daddy had and they told him that times were bad. But Martin couldn't keep away from the railroads. Wherever he traveled, he rode the rods; he'd rather hop a freight heading north in sub-zero weather than lift his thumb to hitch a ride with a Cadillac headed for Florida. Whenever he managed to get hold of a can of Sterno, he'd sit there under a nice warm culvert, think about the old days, and often as not he'd hum the song about That Hell-Bound Train. That was the train the drunks and the sinners rode — the gambling men and the grifters, the big-time spenders, the skirt-chasers, and all the jolly crew. It would be really fine to take a trip in such good company, but Martin didn't like to think of what happened when that train finally pulled into the Depot Way Down Yonder. He didn't figure on spending eternity stoking boilers in Hell, without even a Company Union to protect him. Still, it would be a lovely ride. If there was such a thing as a Hell-Bound Train. Which, of course, there wasn't.

At least Martin didn't think there was, until that evening when he found himself walking the tracks heading south, just outside of Appleton Junction. The night was cold and dark, the way November nights are in the Fox River Valley, and he knew he'd have to work his way down to New Orleans for the winter, or maybe even Texas. Somehow he didn't much feel like going, even though he'd heard tell that a lot of those Texas automobiles had solid gold hub-caps.

 

No sir, he just wasn't cut out for petty larceny. It was worse than a sin — it was unprofitable, too.

Bad enough to do the Devil's work, but then to get such miserable pay on top of it! Maybe he'd better let the Salvation Army convert him.

Martin trudged along humming Daddy's song, waiting for a rattler to pull out of the Junction behind him. He'd have to catch it — there was nothing else for him to do.

But the first train to come along came from the other direction, roaring toward him along the track from the south.

Martin peered ahead, but his eyes couldn't match his ears, and so far all he could recognize was the sound. It was a train, though; he felt the steel shudder and sing beneath his feet.

And yet, how could it be? The next station south was Neenah-Menasha, and there was nothing due out of there for hours.

 

The clouds were thick overhead, and the field mists rolled like a cold fog in a November midnight. Even so, Martin should have been able to see the headlight as the train rushed on. But there was only the whistle, screaming out of the black throat of the night. Martin could recognize the equipment of just about any locomotive ever built, but he'd never heard a whistle that sounded like this one. It wasn't signaling; it was screaming like a lost soul.

He stepped to one side, for the train was almost on top of him now. And suddenly there it was, looming along the tracks and grinding to a stop in less time than he'd believed possible. The wheels hadn't been oiled, because they screamed too, screamed like the damned. But the train slid to a halt and the screams died away into a series of low, groaning sounds, and Martin looked up and saw that this was a passenger train. It was big and black, without a single light shining in the engine cab or any of the long string of cars; Martin couldn't read any lettering on the sides, but he was pretty sure this train didn't belong on the Northwestern Road.

 

He was even more sure when he saw the man clamber down out of the forward car. There was something wrong about the way he walked, as though one of his feet dragged, and about the lantern he carried. The lantern was dark, and the man held it up to his mouth and blew, and instantly it glowed redly. You don't have to be a member of the Railway Brotherhood to know that this is a mighty peculiar way of lighting a lantern.

As the figure approached, Martin recognized the conductor's cap perched on his head, and this made him feel a little better for a moment — until he noticed that it was worn a bit too high, as though there might be something sticking up on the forehead underneath it.Still, Martin knew his manners, and when the man smiled at him, he said, "Good evening, Mr. Conductor."

"Good evening, Martin."

"How did you know my name?"

 

The man shrugged. "How did you know I was the Conductor?"

"You are, aren't you?"

"To you, yes. Although other people, in other walks of life, may recognize me in different roles. For instance, you ought to see what I look like to the folks out in Hollywood." The man grinned. "I travel a great deal," he explained.

"What brings you here?" Martin asked.

 

"Why, you ought to know the answer to that, Martin. I came because you needed me. Tonight, I suddenly realized you were backsliding.

Thinking of joining the Salvation Army, weren't you?"

 

"Well — " Martin hesitated.

"Don't be ashamed. To err is human, as somebody-or-other-once said. Reader's Digest, wasn't it? Never mind.

The point is, I felt you needed me. So I switched over and came your way.""What for?"

"Why, to offer you a ride, of course. Isn't it better to travel comfortably by train than to march along the cold streets

behind a Salvation Army band? Hard on the feet, they tell me, and even harder on the eardrums."

 

"I'm not sure I'd care to ride your train, sir," Martin said. "Considering where I'm likely to end up."

 

"Ah, yes. The old argument." The Conductor sighed. "I suppose you'd prefer some sort of bargain, is that it?"

"Exactly," Martin answered.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm all through with that sort of thing. There's no shortage of prospective passengers anymore. Why should I offer you any special inducements?"

"You must want me, or else you wouldn't have bothered to go out of your way to find me."

 

The Conductor sighed again. "There you have a point. Pride was always my besetting weakness, I admit. And somehow I'd hate to lose you

to the competition, after thinking of you as my own all these years." He hesitated. "Yes, I'm prepared to deal with you on your own terms, if you insist."

"The terms?" Martin asked.

"Standard proposition. Anything you want."

 

"Ah," said Martin.

"But I warn you in advance, there'll be no tricks. I'll grant you any wish you can name — but in return,

you must promise to ride the train when the time comes."

"Suppose it never comes?"

"It will."

"Suppose I've got the kind of a wish that will keep me off forever?"

"There is no such wish."

"Don't be too sure."

 

"Let me worry about that," the Conductor told him. "No matter what you have in mind, I warn you that I'll collect in the end. And there'll be none of this last-minute hocus-pocus, either. No last-hour repentances, no blonde frauleins or fancy lawyers showing up to get you off. I offer a clean deal. That is to say, you'll get what you want, and I'll get what I want.""I've heard you trick people. They say you're worse than a used-car salesman."

"Now, wait a minute — "

"I apologize," Martin said, hastily. "But it is supposed to be a fact that you can't be trusted."

"I admit it. On the other hand, you seem to think you have found a way out."

 

"A sure-fire proposition."

"Sure-fire? Very funny!" The man began to chuckle, then halted. "But we waste valuable time, Martin. Let's get down to cases. What do you want from me?"

Martin took a deep breath. "I want to be able to stop Time."

"Right now?"

"No. Not yet. And not for everybody. I realize that would be impossible, of course. But I want to be able to stop Time for myself. Just once, in the future. Whenever I get to a point where I know I'm happy and contented, that's where I'd like to stop. So I can just keep on being happy forever."

"That's quite a proposition," the Conductor mused. "I've got to admit I've never heard anything just like it before — and believe me, I've listened to some lulus in my day." He grinned at Martin. "You've really been thinking about this, haven't you?"

 

"for years," Martin admitted. Then he coughed. "Well, what do you say?"

"It's not impossible, in terms of your own subjective time-sense," the Conductor murmured. "Yes, I think it could be arranged."

"But I mean really to stop. Not for me just to imagine it."

"I understand. And it can be done."

"Then you'll agree?"

"Why not? I promised you, didn't I? Give me your hand."

Martin hesitated. "Will it hurt very much? I mean, I don't like the sight of blood, and — "

"Nonsense! You've been listening to a lot of poppycock. We already have made our bargain, my boy. I merely intend to put something into your hand. The ways and means of fulfilling your wish. After all, there's no telling at just what moment you may decide to exercise the agreement, and I can't drop everything and come running. So it's better if you can regulate matters for yourself."

"You're going to give me a Time-stopper?"

 

"That's the general idea. As soon as I can decide what would be practical." The Conductor hesitated. "Ah, the very thing! Here, take my watch."

He pulled it out of his vest-pocket; a railroad watch in a silver case. He opened the back and made a delicate adjustment; Martin tried to see just exactly what he was doing, but the fingers moved in a blinding blur.

"There we are." The Conductor smiled. "It's all set, now. When you finally decide where you'd like to call a halt, merely turn the stem in reverse and unwind the watch until it stops. When it stops, Time stops, for you. Simple enough?" And the Conductor dropped the watch into Martin's hand.

 

The young man closed his fingers tightly around the case. "That's all there is to it, eh?"

"Absolutely. But remember — you can stop the watch only once. So you'd better make sure that you're satisfied with the

moment you choose to prolong. I caution you in all fairness; make very certain of your choice."

"I will." Martin grinned. "And since you've been so fair about it, I'll be fair, too. There's one thing you seem to have forgotten.

It doesn't really matter what moment I choose. Because once I stop Time for myself, that means I stay where I am forever.

I'll never have to get any older. And if I don't get any older, I'll never die. And if I never die, then I'll never have to take a ride on your train."

The Conductor turned away. His shoulders shook convulsively, and he may have been crying. "And you said I was worse than a used-car salesman," he gasped, in a strangled voice.

Then he wandered off into the fog, and the train-whistle gave an impatient shriek, and all at once it was moving swiftly down the track, rumbling out of sight in the darkness.

 

Martin stood there, blinking down at the silver watch in his hand. If it wasn't that he could actually see it and feel it there, and if he couldn't smell that peculiar odor, he might have thought he'd imagined the whole thing from start to finish — train, Conductor, bargain, and all.

But he had the watch, and he could recognize the scent left by the train as it departed, even though there aren't many locomotives around that use sulphur and brimstone as fuel.

And he had no doubts about his bargain. That's what came of thinking things through to a logical conclusion. Some fools would have settled for wealth, or power, or Kim Novak. Daddy might have sold out for a fifth of whiskey.Martin knew that he'd made a better deal. Better? It was foolproof. All he needed to do now was choose his moment.

 

He put the watch in his pocket and started back down the railroad track. He hadn't really had a destination in mind before, but he did now. He was going to find a moment of happiness…

Now young Martin wasn't altogether a ninny. He realized perfectly well that happiness is a relative thing; there are conditions and degrees of contentment, and they vary with one's lot in life. As a hobo, he was often satisfied with a warm handout, a double-length bench in the park, or a can of Sterno made in 1957 (a vintage year). Many a time he had reached a state of momentary bliss through such simple agencies, but he was aware that there were better things. Martin determined to seek them out.

Within two days he was in the great city of Chicago. Quite naturally, he drifted over to West Madison Street, and there he took steps to elevate his role in life. He became a city bum, a panhandler, a moocher. Within a week he had risen to the point where happiness was a meal in a regular one-arm luncheon joint, a two-bit flop on a real army cot in a real flophouse, and a full fifth of muscatel.

 

There was a night, after enjoying all three of these luxuries to the full, when Martin thought of unwinding his watch at the pinnacle of intoxication. But he also thought of the faces of the honest johns he'd braced for a handout today. Sure, they were squares, but they were prosperous. They wore good clothes, held good jobs, drove nice cars. And for them, happiness was even more ecstatic — they ate dinner in fine hotels, they slept on innerspring mattresses, they drank blended whiskey.

 

Squares or no, they had something there. Martin fingered his watch, put aside the temptation to hock it for another bottle of muscatel, and went to sleep determined to get himself a job and improve his happiness-quotient.When he awoke he had a hangover, but the determination was still with him. Before the month was out Martin was working for a general contractor over on the South Side, at one of the big rehabilitation projects. He hated the grind, but the pay was good, and pretty soon he got himself a one-room apartment out on Blue Island Avenue. He was accustomed to eating in decent restaurants now, and he bought himself a comfortable bed, and every Saturday night he went down to the corner tavern. It was all very pleasant, but —

The foreman liked his work and promised him a raise in a month. If he waited around, the raise would mean that he could afford a second-hand car. With a car, he could even start picking up a girl for a date now and then. Other fellows on the job did, and they seemed pretty happy.

 

So Martin kept on working, and the raise came through and the car came through and pretty soon a couple of girls came through.

The first time it happened, he wanted to unwind his watch immediately. Until he got to thinking about what some of the older men always said. There was a guy named Charlie, for example, who worked alongside him on the hoist. "When you're young and don't know the score, maybe you get a kick out of running around with those pigs. But after a while, you want something better. A nice girl of your own. That's the ticket."

Martin felt he owed it to himself to find out. If he didn't like it better, he could always go back to what he had.

Almost six months went by before Martin met Lillian Gillis. By that time he'd had another promotion and was working inside, in the office. They made him go to night school to learn how to do simple bookkeeping, but it meant another fifteen bucks extra a week, and it was nicer working indoors.

And Lillian was a lot of fun. When she told him she'd marry him, Martin was almost sure that the time was now. Except that she was sort of — well, she was a nice girl, and she said they'd have to wait until they were married. Of course, Martin couldn't expect to marry her until he had a little more money saved up, and another raise would help, too.

That took a year. Martin was patient, because he knew it was going to be worth it. Every time he had any doubts, he took out his watch and looked at it. But he never showed it to Lillian, or anybody else. Most of the other men wore expensive wristwatches and the old silver railroad watch looked just a little cheap.

 

Martin smiled as he gazed at the stem. Just a few twists and he'd have something none of these other poor working slobs would ever have. Permanent satisfaction, with his blushing bride — Only getting married turned out to be just the beginning. Sure, it was wonderful, but Lillian told him how much better things would be if they could move into a new place and fix it up. Martin wanted decent furniture, a TV set, a nice car.

So he started taking night courses and got a promotion to the front office. With the baby coming, he wanted to stick around and see his son arrive. And when it came, he realized he'd have to wait until it got a little older, started to walk and talk and develop a personality of its own.

About this time the company sent him out on the road as a trouble-shooter on some of those other jobs, and now he was eating at those good hotels, living high on the hog and the expense-account. More than once he was tempted to unwind his watch. This was the good life… Of course, it would be even better if he just didn't have to work. Sooner or later, if he could cut in on one of the company deals, he could make a pile and retire. Then everything would be ideal. It happened, but it took time. Martin's son was going to high school before he really got up there into the chips. Martin got a strong hunch that it was now or never, because he wasn't exactly a kid anymore.

But right about then he met Sherry Westcott, and she didn't seem to think he was middle-aged at all, in spite of the way he was losing hair and adding stomach. She taught him that a toupee could cover the bald spot and a cummerbund could cover the pot-gut. In fact, she taught him quite a lot and he so enjoyed learning that he actually took out his watch and prepared to unwind it.

 

Unfortunately, he chose the very moment that the private detectives broke down the door of the hotel room, and then there was a long stretch of time when Martin was so busy fighting the divorce action that he couldn't honestly say he was enjoying any given moment.

When he made the final settlement with Lil he was broke again, and Sherry didn't seem to think he was so young, after all. So he squared his shoulders and went back to work.

He made his pile, eventually, but it took longer this time, and there wasn't much chance to have fun along the way. The fancy dames in the fancy cocktail lounges didn't seem to interest him anymore, and neither did the liquor. Besides, the Doc had warned him off that.

But there were other pleasures for a rich man to investigate. Travel, for instance — and not riding the rods from one hick burg to another, either. Martin went around the world by plane and luxury liner. For a while it seemed as though he would find his moment after all, visiting the Taj Mahal by moonlight. Martin pulled out the battered old watch-case, and got ready to unwind it. Nobody else was there to watch him —

And that's why he hesitated. Sure, this was an enjoyable moment, but he was alone. Lil and the kid were gone, Sherry was gone, and somehow he'd never had time to make any friends. Maybe if he found new congenial people, he'd have the ultimate happiness. That must be the answer — it wasn't just money or power or sex or seeing beautiful things. The real satisfaction lay in friendship.So on the boat trip home, Martin tried to strike up a few acquaintances at the ship's bar. But all these people were much younger, and Martin had nothing in common with them. Also they wanted to dance and drink, and Martin wasn't in condition to appreciate such pastimes. Nevertheless, he tried.

Perhaps that's why he had the little accident the day before they docked in San Francisco. "Little accident" was the ship's doctor's way of describing it, but Martin noticed he looked very grave when he told him to stay in bed, and he'd called an ambulance to meet the liner at the dock and take the patient right to the hospital.

 

At the hospital, all the expensive treatment and the expensive smiles and the expensive words didn't fool Martin any. He was an old man with a bad heart,

and they thought he was going to die.But he could fool them. He still had the watch. He found it in his coat when he put on his clothes and sneaked

out of the hospital.He didn't have to die. He could cheat death with a single gesture — and he intended to do it as a free man, out there under a free sky.

That was the real secret of happiness. He understood it now. Not even friendship meant as much as freedom.

This was the best thing of all — to be free of friends or family or the furies of the flesh.

Martin walked slowly beside the embankment under the night sky. Come to think of it, he was just about back where he'd started,

so many years ago. But the moment was good, good enough to prolong forever. Once a bum, always a bum.

 

He smiled as he thought about it, and then the smile twisted sharply and suddenly, like the pain twisting sharply and suddenly in

his chest. The world began to spin and he fell down on the side of the embankment.

He couldn't see very well, but he was still conscious, and he knew what had happened. Another stroke, and a bad one. Maybe this was it.

Except that he wouldn't be a fool any longer. He wouldn't wait to see what was still around the corner.

 

Right now was his chance to use his power and save his life. And he was going to do it. He could still move, nothing could stop him.

He groped in his pocket and pulled out the old silver watch, fumbling with the stem. A few twists and he'd cheat death, he'd never have to

ride that Hell-Bound Train. He could go on forever. Forever.Martin had never really considered the word before. To go on forever — but how?

Did he want to go on forever, like this; a sick old man,lying helplessly here in the grass?

No. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. And suddenly he wanted very much to cry, because he knew that somewhere along the line

he'd outsmarted himself. And now it was too late. His eyes dimmed, there was a roaring in his ears…

He recognized the roaring, of course, and he wasn't at all surprised to see the train come rushing out of the fog up there on the embankment.

He wasn't surprised when it stopped, either, or when the Conductor climbed off and walked slowly toward him.

The Conductor hadn't changed a bit. Even his grin was still the same.

 

"Hello, Martin," he said. "All aboard."

"I know," Martin whispered. "But you'll have to carry me. I can't walk. I'm not even really talking anymore, am I?"

"Yes you are," the Conductor said. "I can hear you fine. And you can walk, too." He leaned down and placed his hand on

Martin's chest. There was a moment of icy numbness, and then, sure enough, Martin could walk after all.

He got up and followed the Conductor along the slope, moving to the side of the train.

"In here?" he asked.

 

"No, the next car," the Conductor murmured. "I guess you're entitled to ride Pullman. After all, you're quite a successful man.

You've tasted the joys of wealth and position and prestige. You've known the pleasures of marriage and fatherhood. You've sampled

the delights of dining and drinking and debauchery, too, and you traveled high, wide, and handsome. So let's not have any last-minute recriminations."

"All right," Martin sighed. "I can't blame you for my mistakes. On the other hand, you can't take credit for what happened,

either. I worked for everything I got. I did it all on my own. I didn't even need your watch."

"So you didn't," the Conductor said, smiling. "But would you mind giving it back to me now?"

"Need it for the next sucker, eh?" Martin muttered.

"Perhaps."

 

Something about the way he said it made Martin look up. He tried to see the Conductor's eyes, but the brim of his cap cast a shadow.

So Martin looked down at the watch instead."Tell me something," he said, softly. "If I give you the watch, what will you do with it?"

"Why, throw it into the ditch," the Conductor told him. "That's all I'll do with it." And he held out his hand.

"What if somebody comes along and finds it? And twists the stem backward, and stops Time?"

"Nobody would do that," the Conductor murmured. "Even if they knew."

"You mean, it was all a trick? This is only an ordinary, cheap watch?"

"I didn't say that," whispered the Conductor. "I only said that no one has ever twisted the stem backward.

They've all been like you, Martin — looking ahead to find that perfect happiness. Waiting for the moment that never comes."

 

The Conductor held out his hand again.

Martin sighed and shook his head. "You cheated me after all."

"You cheated yourself, Martin. And now you're going to ride that Hell-Bound Train."

 

He pushed Martin up the steps and into the car ahead. As he entered, the train began to move and the whistle screamed. And Martin stood there in the swaying Pullman, gazing down the aisle at the other passengers. He could see them sitting there, and somehow it didn't seem strange at all.

Here they were; the drunks and the sinners, the gambling men and the grifters, the big-time spenders, the skirt-chasers, and all the jolly crew. They knew where they were going, of course, but they didn't seem to give a damn. The blinds were drawn on the windows, yet it was light inside, and they were all living it up — singing and passing the bottle and roaring with laughter, throwing the dice and telling their jokes and bragging their big brags, just the way Daddy used to sing about them in the old song.

 

"Mighty nice traveling companions," Martin said. "Why, I've never seen such a pleasant bunch of people. I mean, they seem to be really enjoying themselves!"

The Conductor shrugged. "I'm afraid things won't be quite so jazzy when we pull into that Depot Way Down Yonder."

For the third time, he held out his hand. "Now, before you sit down, if you'll just give me that watch. A bargain's a bargain—"

Martin smiled. "A bargain's a bargain," he echoed. "I agreed to ride your train if I could stop Time when I found the right moment of happiness.

And I think I'm about as happy right here as I've ever been."

 

Very slowly, Martin took hold of the silver watch-stem."No!" gasped the Conductor."No!" But the watch-stem turned.

"Do you realize what you've done?" the Conductor yelled. "Now we'll never reach the Depot! We'll just go on riding, all of us — forever!"

Martin grinned. "I know," he said. "But the fun is in the trip, not the destination. You taught me that. And I'm looking forward to a wonderful trip. Look, maybe I can even help. If you were to find me another one of those caps, now, and let me keep this watch—"

 

And that's the way it finally worked out. Wearing his cap and carrying his battered old silver watch, there's no happier person in or out of this world — now and forever — than Martin. Martin, the new Brakeman on That Hellbound Train.

These seem to be absolutely ubiquitous and after being a sceptic myself, now I have had one for a few weeks know why. The tie in to itunes and the appstore is a killer idea. You would have thought that Microsoft would have worked that out after the rise of the ipod and the concept of buying music by that channel.

 

Now, Windows mobile 7 is planned to cover the sames bases with the addition of a 'Bing' button (WTF?), but two years too late. While Apple look like your creative younger art school sister, Microsoft might be your older richer fuddy duddy sibling, set in his old ways.

 

The iPhone was originally released in 2007. An iPhone functions as a rather useful camera phone with the usual texting etc. It has its own portable media player, Safari a great pinch and stretch browser with Wi-Fi connectivity etc.

 

There are well over 200,000 apps each of which must approved by Apple. Presumably Apple take a few pennies from all those downloads. They tend to be the funky consumer apps, not really ones for business however. I am still looking for one that will allow me to find where there is not a Tesco store.

 

Some of the apps I have been playing with on mine include Lomo (a toy camera app), Autostitch (panorama software), Shazam (for identifying that obscure music track) and Met Office (to see when the rain will be arriving).

 

More iPhones than Blackberry's seem to be flying off the shelves with approching 40 million sold across the world. Also, these covers which are necessary to protect your iPhone. Of course you can get the gold and diamond covers, but beware, all that glitters may not be gold(!)

 

NB: Like all the images on this stream, full size prints up to 30x20inches are available, Check my profile for how to contact me.

 

Checkout more Cheshire images from my photostream.

 

Keep in touch, add me as a contact www.flickr.com/relationship.gne?id=33062170@N08 so I can follow all your new uploads.

 

(c) Hotpix / HotpixUK Tony Smith - Hotpix.freeserve.co.uk WDCC

Our Daily Challenge-Pattern

 

I just bought my very first rug for my home office. As soon as I came across it online a few weeks ago I thought it looked as if Mary Blair could have designed it! This plush, geometric magic carpet was delivered yesterday afternoon and I am positively in love.

 

Princess Muffin Baby and I celebrated tonight by reading Joey Chou's beautifully illustrated It's A Small World book together. :)

I bought this gingerbread man cookie during lunch and thought it was adorable! I decided I wanted to take a picture of it when I got back to the office. Of course, when I got to the office I realized I forgot my smaller point and shoot camera (WHICH I ALWAYS HAVE WITH ME!). Because of this I was unable to take a picture AND I couldn't eat the cookie until I arrived home from work! Gah! The delicious smell of gingerbread was attacking my office desk and the drive home was even worse. Finally, after dinner, I devoured him!

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

"I am a traveler of both time and space"

 

I recently bought me the photography book "Reframing Photography" by Rebekah Modrak and Bill Anthes. The first chapter was about perception, and how our eye works. How it focus on a small spot, jumping from spot to spot, and make sense out of the surroundings by qualified guesses, and putting together all the small pieces of information it continuously picked up.

 

There was also description and photos of the works of photographer David Hockney and Joyce Neimanas. How they used groups of photos to put together something bigger. Often changing angle from shot to shot. I grew kinda fascinated and inspired and wanted to try something similar.

 

I wanted a picture that in some way crossed both time and space. So today I've been shooting snapshots of myself in different location and at different times. Different angles of my face. I deliberately shot in jpg and with auto WB too give it more randomness. So here it is, maybe this sets closest rendition of a whole day. The shots range from 9 AM to 8 PM in time, from my office, to my apartment, to my training hall, to outdoors on my way somewhere in space.

 

I didn't have too much time to put it together, but I do think that fits well with my whole idea of a "snapshots from a day" theory. All images are SOOC, just cropped.

Hubby the Dealmeister strikes again!

 

A while back, our espresso machine at work broke but I'm happy to say that hubby has now found a replacement and a steal of a deal from an out-of-business office. Gotta love it when you can buy a $1,200 espresso machine for $35... LOL All he had to do was put a new plug on it and run a clean cycle with the tablets and it's as good as new.

 

This thing is so amazing! You can even hook a milk container to the nozzle on the right and make a capp but I don't like messing with that....I just pour in a little cream and stevia (a natural herb sweetener) and I'm good to go ...

  

Since starting my 365 each day I see one fleeting instance, one perfect moment that would have been picture of the day had I had my camera to my eye at that moment. Most days I miss that moment.

 

Today was no exception.

 

10seconds before taking this shot; a tough looking guy walked past me with a massive teddy bear slung over his shoulder. Having missed the shot of him, I thought it would seem a little stalker-like to follow him taking photos so I headed back to work.

 

I stopped immediately at this sign and as the woman in yellow passed, it struck me how much yellow this particular viewpoint had. I was quick enough to get her in shot (just).

   

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And ...

 

I think I might be back on track.

 

The rain stopped and the sun came out, briefly. Josh took the day off work and took apart the computer, put it back together, over and over, and it seems to be OK. Yes, I'm being very cautious ..

 

I spent the day doing things I'd been putting off for ages. I went to the bank and paid in about 20 checks, went to the post office, bought some bits at Best Buy ... and I spent a fairly enjoyable few hours going through emails and writing contracts, updating the calendar on my website ... all the stuff I don't have time to do when I'm able to edit.

 

Got home, gave Josh a Porter, then took the furry Porter on a night time walk around the neighborhood. I went hunting for Christmas lights, and found a spectacular house on NW 77th St, between 1st and 3rd aves, which really, if you live in Seattle, you should check out. I'll take a camera with me next time though. It made me happy.

 

Porter tried to eat some puke, that was gross.

 

Home again, had amazing pork soup for dinner, then came up and finally began working on my photos again. Relief.

 

Oh, I'm running 8GB of RAM now :-)

Knole has always excited a range of different reactions. Henry VIII liked it so much that he forced Thomas Cranmer, his Archbishop of Canterbury, to hand it to him in 1538. Yet, the following century, the diarist John Evelyn was so depressed by the greyness of this 'greate old fashion'd house' that he hurried out into the sunshine. In the 18th century, Horace Walpole was impressed by Knole's 'beautiful decent simplicity which charms one' but on a later visit decided that it 'has neither beauty nor prospects'.

 

These mixed emotions can partly be explained by the many faces Knole presents on different days and at different times of the year. On a dull winter's day, as you ride the crest of the knoll in front of the house and the north front looms in sight, Knole's sprawling mass of sodden Kentish ragstone strikes a sombre note. But on a sunny summer's day, the south front, with its colonnade of seven lightly coloured marble arches, dances to a very different tune.

 

The Sackvilles and Knole

 

Knole was rebuilt and then furnished in three main bursts of activity, each separated by around a hundred years. In the early 17th century, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of Dorset, transformed the late medieval archbishop's palace into a Renaissance mansion. Towards the end of the 17th century, his great-great-grandson, the 6th Earl, acquired Knole's unique collection of Stuart furniture and textiles through his office as Lord Chamberlain. And then, towards the end of the 18th century the 6th Earl's great-grandson, the 3rd Duke, added Old Masters bought on the Grand Tour to Italy and portraits commissioned from contemporary English artists such as Reynolds and Gainsborough.

 

Visitors today see a house and collection little changed since the 3rd Duke's day. By the end of the 17th century, the Sackvilles had withdrawn to private apartments on the ground floor and tended to live there rather than in the more formal, public rooms on the first floor - today's showrooms. The very fact that large areas of Knole were inhabited only intermittently from the end of the 17th century and that the furniture therefore remained under dust sheets for long periods, accounts for its miraculous survival.

 

Knole comes to the National Trust

 

In 1946, the Sackville family handed over Knole to the National Trust with an endowment towards its maintenance. The family retained possession of the park and many of the contents of the house and were granted a 200-year lease on various private apartments within the house.

 

Vita Sackville-West and Knole

 

Vita Sackville-West had grown to love Knole's many faces from her happy childhood there. In 'Knole and the Sackvilles' (1922), she wrote that Knole 'has a deep inward gaiety of some very old woman who has always been beautiful, who has had many lovers and seen many generations come and go … It is above all an English home,' she continued, 'It has the tone of England; it melts into the green of the garden turf, into the tawnier green of the park beyond, into the blue of the pale English sky.'

On display in the Great Hall is a facsimile of the bound manuscript of Virginia Woolf's novel 'Orlando'. The novel is dedicated to Vita Sackville-West and, in the words of Vita's son, Nigel Nicolson, it is 'the longest and most charming love letter in literature'. Vita is the eponymous hero/heroine (Orlando changes gender over the four centuries in which the novel is set) and Orlando's ancestral home is a house, like Knole, with a legendary 365 rooms. The pages are threaded through with similarly specific references to Knole and to its past and present incumbents. It ends with Orlando taking possession of the house whereas, in fact, Vita had been denied ownership of her beloved Knole because the house was passed through the male line.

In 1930 Vita fell in love with Sissinghurst Castle and bought it, along with 4,000 acres of farmland. Together Vita and her husband, Harold Nicolson, made a garden which reflected their different personalities - Harold being a classicist and Vita a romantic. Today, Sissinghurst Castle Garden is also owned by the National Trust.

 

Foe further information please visit www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-vh/w-visits/w-findaplace/...

[149/365] Bokeh for sale.

 

This Friday I went with some colleagues to a lamp shop with the mission to buy some Christmas decoration for the office. I just couldn’t resist a shot with vivid colors and bokeh…

 

Hope you are having a nice weekend!

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