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The sun already faded away behind the horizon when I set up the tripod right behind the camper in Alesund, Norway.

Press the trigger, hold a cigarette in one hand, a glass of wine in the other and let the camera soak in the last light of the day, covering the sea in a blue blanket of pure calmess… - Holy Other, "Know Where" - I do appreciate those of you who take the time to read this. It is long, and our attention spans aren't what they once were.


We had a storm on Halloween; a good one. Some snow, some sleet, lot’s of wind. 60 – 70 mph winds coming out of the north, blowing straight down the 300+ mile length of Lake Michigan. On the east and west coasts, those are low-end hurricane/typhoon wind speeds. For us in Chicago, these are as good as it gets. Daytime temps were in the 40’s; with the wind chills it felt like the 20’s, a far cry from our normal 55 - 64 degrees for Halloween.


When the wind blows from the north, it can push our southern lake water level up two to four feet. That doesn’t sound like much, but our shoreline waters here are shallow, 20 feet on average. That's not deep enough to make tall waves; the extra water transfer from up north helps. As is 4 – 6 foot waves get boating advisories. 8 - 10 footers are newsworthy. These Halloween monster waves were on all TV channels at once.


The waves reached up to 20-feet in height; that has happened only once before. To get 20-foot waves means some extraordinary, barely comprehensible energy is being created in the Lake. The top of the tower, the red light, is 20 – 24 feet above the normal water surface level. Normal depth here is 12 - 14 feet. There is a 30-foot wide, concrete seawall at the base of the tower that sits 8 – 10 feet above the water. I’ve never, not seen that platform. I've never seen it under water. I’ve never seen waves this high in my 64+ years of living here. Never.


For us, this mimicked the Sea. It was divine and extraordinary, deliciously wild, sublimely chaotic. Because the Lake is so shallow, our waves have no chance to develop a rhyme or rhythm to their movements. They swell and dip and break everywhere in tumultuous disarray; on shore as well as out into the Lake as far as the eye could see. You cannot time the waves or predict where they will crash so as to move back from the shoreline to avoid getting drenched and/or swept out to Sea (where it could be days, weeks or months before you are found - thus it is recommended you wear bright clothing for this; makes finding the body easier :-) ). It is dangerous to stand close to the water’s edge.


But how on earth can you not?


It’s said there are a hundred ways to die and, you should have no doubt, one or more of those 100 ways has your name in their hands (with a bit of a contest going as to who will get to you first). That being said, well, being swept away to die for ones photographic or video art, or for just plain and simple curiosity, or for the sheer giddiness and idiocy of being so close to something so grand, probably beats a bunch of the other ways that will surely come your way.


Of course, I am speaking for myself.


I could have resisted, but I choose not to. I suspected I was going to sacrifice a camera here. Water spray, rain and sleet were everywhere, and digital point-and-shoots aren't good bedfellows with water in any form. I only hoped to get some decent images before it said, “Argh, they got me boys, I’m a gonner,” and shut down operations, like the Terminator’s glowing red eye going dim and black when it went got crushed.


And digitals aren’t keen on being cold, and trying to focus with nothing to lock onto except smooth sky, clouds, water. Plus I really couldn’t see the viewer too well. All of their functions begin to slow to a crawl under these conditions - kinda' like us. Ah, to hell with it, wing it and just kept moving and shooting.


I was out for about 20 minutes and got 148 shots - time enough to get at least four or five good shots with cold-to-numb, cramped, claw-like fingers, I hoped, as well as to get really effing cold, stiff, and wet. I started rapid-fire sneezing; “a cold, the flu, pneumonia, Ebola,” I wondered (ah, the power of mass hysteria and panic).


Hey, I was not alone. A continuing parade of fifty or so people heading home from work roared into the parking lot by the Lake. So excited were they, some would jump out of their cars before they completely stopped. There was a palpable passion to look at the water, the waves, the sky, the sun and that big, `ol rainbow playing peek-a-boo over the waves with our collective inner child.


Most were wearing work clothes, or lightweight, mild autumn-day weather clothes. Most never saw the wave that got them. A thunderous, deep-throated “Whoomp” is all they heard, then a total body swoosh of water is what they felt. I do love those screams – a mixture of surprise and panic that reverberates up and down the lake shore: “SHIT! F*ck! Eeeek! God Damn! OMG! That’s COOOOLD!”


They’d get thoroughly drenched. Some didn't care, and stayed out - a child's sense of determination, exuberance and fool-hardiness. Others, looking like wet, defeated rats, would scamper and splash back to their cars as best they could with icy toes in bubbling-juicy socks in super-saturated, mushy shoes. (Did you know that when regular, leather, dress/work shoes get this wet, upon drying they morph into clogs? They do.)


Heaters on full blast, interior like a sauna, they’d drive off with completely fogged windows, fingers squeaking across the glass hoping for one last look back. It was the price of admission to experience this type of joy, feed their curiosity, display their nerve, and nurture their delight in seeing Nature do her thing up close and personal.


Not too bad a price to pay, I think - just gettin' cold and wet. At least they could tell their friends, “Hey I was there, in person. I got my pneumonia like a Man; I earned it. (achoo!)”


I was wearing the neoprene wading outfit I wear while wading as I fish in rivers, so I was well protected. Protected, but not invulnerable. I got mini –soaked. I think my underwear stayed dry - most of it, anyway – although even a little bit of a cold, wet butt makes for a long, itchy drive home.


148 shots later, the camera died. I was pretty much done too. I started my way back to the car, 100 yards of so away. I had to walk head long into that gale force wind to do so. It started sleeting, with bb sized pellets of ice whipping into my face at 60 to 70 mph. They stung like a thousand bees.


But I loved it. I laughed and smiled all the while in between my exclamations of ‘oouch, ow, shit, that hurts.” When I got back to the car I was wet, frozen, my face candy-apple red from the sleet, and I’d lost a camera.


Yes, I effing loved it.


It was an exquisite diversion to make on the drive home from work. And, I got four decent images out of it.


Texture courtesy Cleanzor.


If that little Canon Powershot does not survive, it will receive a dignified, respectful burial at Sea on the next full moon, right off the end of that pier. 39th St. Pier and Beach, 39th & Lake Shore Drive, Chicago.


♬ The inspiration...


say its here where our pieces fall in place

any rain softly kisses us on the face

any wind means we’re running

we can sleep and see them coming

where we drift and call it dreaming

we can weep and call it singing


where we break when our hearts are strong enough

we can bow because our musics warmer than blood

where we see enough to follow

we can hear when we are hollow

where we keep the light we’re given

we can lose and call it living


where the sun isn’t only sinking fast

every night knows how long its supposed to last

where the time of our lives is all we have

and we get a chance to say before we ease away

for all the love you’ve left behind, you can have mine


say its here where our pieces fall in place

we can fear because a feelings fine to betray

where our water isn’t hidden

we can burn and be forgiven

where our hands hurt from healing

we can laugh without a reason


because the sun isn’t only sinking fast

every moon and our bodies make shining glass

where the time of our lives is all we have

and we get a chance to say before we ease away

for all the love you’ve left behind, you can have mine


On location @ Follow Your Bliss


Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/11

Focal Length: 22 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/500

ISO: 160


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia

Always find interesting things at the beach, stones and Sea glass are my number one priority, when I bring them home glass stays inside the house and stones around the pond.

Monday morning rush hour, July 11, 2011. 8:00am. - View On Black


One of those senses-pricking, kick-ass, turn-day-to-dark, summer storms blew in. It flung itself over the city – at about 70 mph - like a heavy, gray velour curtain being pulled over the skyline. Or like one of those 15-mile diameter spaceships casting its ominous shadow as it moves over the cityscape in the Will Smith movie, “Independence Day.”


Morning turned to dusk in five minutes. First the wind howls in and slams into your car like an aggressive linebacker stands up a running back, dead-stop, at the line of scrimmage. Instinctively, you throw up two hands to the steering wheel; hold tight or you get buffeted into an involuntary lane change. Trees sway, lean and tilt almost to the breaking point. Some pass that point: CRACK!


Projectiles slash across the road: leaves, tree limbs, umbrellas, hats, and empty (I hope to God) pop and beer cans, small, newspaper vending machines and the occasional, tiny, little-shit dogs on snapped leashes.


Then, the heavens erupt: a Mt. St. Helen’s explosion of water plummets down from the sky. This is not some morning tinkle-sprinkle, a namby-pamby rain, or a brisk summer shower, but the parted Red Sea collapsing in on itself after the Israelites made it through. Your car is hit with the force of a thousand water balloons gleefully thrown by one thousand kids.


Today, however, the tempest is oddly silent: there is no thunder, no lightening. Just incessant rain. It sounds as if you are under a waterfall. Sheets of it. Walls of it. Blinding rain. Cascading sideways. 100% humidity. You may as well be driving under water.


All you can see in front of you are tail lights, popping on and glowing red as drivers - blinded in seconds - hit those brakes with gusto. Our windshield wipers – even the best and the newest of ones – cannot provide a view past the end of your hood. Most of us neglect our wipers: they ain’t the newest, they are far from the best. We see even less.


Your speed drops; from 60 mph to 40 to 20 to 15 to just taking your right foot off the gas and drift. Who’s to your left? I dunno’. What's to the right? I dunno’. Stay in your lane.


Inexplicably, I pull out my camera and start shooting through the windshield; then out the driver’s side window. Perhaps "inexplicable" is an excuse word: "creatively reckless" might be more apt.


The cabbie in the lane next to me sees me doing this.


“WTF” can be easily read on the lips, even by those who don’t read lips. He slows down to let the idiot pass him up. I guess that idiot would be me.


You pass under a viaduct and, VOILA’, instant clarity and normal vision. You pass out the other side and it’s as if buckets of water, including the buckets, slam into the windshield. Your wipers sound as if they might fly off either side of the car at any second: whap-whap, whap-whap! whap-whap!


It is, however, an oddly, danceable, uptempo, techno/house-beat. :-)


It could be worse, if there was hail. Pea sized; marble sized, charcoal briquette sized; golf ball sized. They look and sound like icy-meteorites slamming into car hoods, roofs, windshields, side glass and rear windows and doors. I expected this at any moment, but we are spared this - this time.


Heaven help me – but I do love this. It's just a slight shrug of nature's shoulder. This isn't a "natural disaster" or "a weather emergency." Our reactions to it are extreme and panicky. Cars are swerving, hydroplaning, people pulling off the road, and I’m trying to capture it on camera, and drive “responsibly.” Managed both without death or destruction to anyone or anything, thank you. I ain’t no beginner at this.


Turned the radio way down. Only want to hear the sounds of storm. Human sounds are pitiable in comparison to those of nature (think the sound a hamster makes if you step on its big toe). Opened my window a bit, so the incredible smell of rain-fresh air and feel of water spray could baptize me (I’m in need of a little baptizing of late – make that by water, I’ve just had the fire. I need the cool mists of Heaven to soothe Hell-fire’s, skin-crisping damnation).


Even with the window just open a bit, water will not be denied entry. It get’s the left side of me all…sensuously-moist-to-deeply-saturated in seconds. Womb wet. But, it’s just water: fresh, fresh, clean storm water.


Sinners and converts should be baptized in the drama of wind-driven rainstorms when survival is in question, not dipped – holding one's nose - in the placid waters of slow-drifting rivers or pools. I think they'd take their pieties a bit more seriously with a tad bit of what Noah got in evidence.


I shot about 60 images over the course of five miles, 20 minutes – a bit of a chore with a slow-to-recycle, focuses-wherever-the-hell-it-wants, point-and-shoot (all while dodging other cars and trying to time the shots to go off in-between those whap-whap movements of the wipers).


Then, the rains slow down, down, down to an old-man-with-prostate-issues tinkle. Just the darkness of the sky presses overhead. In five minutes the sun began peeking through the cloud cover in spots: light shafts from God and Heaven, or "God's Fingers." It is gorgeous. Even if you don’t believe, for a moment, you believe.


People look up, smile, relax, and start to drive normally again.


Then the clouds re-solidified, strangling closed the light shafts of heavenly salvation from the tempest, and the wall of rain and cyclone winds hit again. Just to let us know, I think, that the power of all of this is not ours to control: not by hand, machine nor prayer.


I swear to God. I love it.


Textures by: Pareeerica, skeletalmess, flypaper, delaney dean, lost name TTV.

Down to the beach

Down to the beach

On a sunny day we go


Beach bags packed with sun screen lotions

Hands rubbing people’s backs in slow motion

Glistening oily bodies radiating with sensation


Down to the beach

Down to the beach

Where a chilly sea breeze blows


Let’s have some fun

In the red-hot sun


Down to the beach

Only there the ladies reveal saucy behinds

Whenever the raging sun is still kind


Down to the beach

As never-ceasing waves play across the shores

People happily play dreading any rainy downpour


Down to the beach

Where young lovers closely nestle

As sand creatures cause the sand to bristle

Seagulls gliding in the air with screams and whistles

Kids picking up shells and building stormy sand castles


Down to the beach

Where mostly good vibes flow

Down to the beach

We go whilst there is still sun without snow


Take by Free spirit =)

Edited by ME !

Model meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee =P

Place : Jumeira beach ;P

This was at 6 in the morning loooool we had so much fun

© Jeff R. Clow


It seems like a true gift to see such a sky over the Caribbean while sitting on a balcony with a glass of wine in one's hand......and a camera nearby.


This single frame jpeg image was taken with a Nikon D300 coupled with a Nikkor 18-200mm VR lens aboard a cruise ship sailing about 400 miles south of Galveston, Texas.


If you have the time, I hope you'll view this at the larger size linked below so you can enjoy the majesty of nature at sea:


View Larger On Black


Your smile beams like sunlight on a gull's wing

And the leaves dance and play after you.

Take my hand and hold it as you would a flower.

Take care with my heart, oh darling, she's made of glass.

Your eyes feel like silence resting on me

And the birds cease to sing when you rise.

Ride easy your fairy stallion you have mounted.

Take care how you fly, my precious, you might fall down.

In the pastel skies the sunset I have wandered

With my eyes and ears and heart strained to the full,

I know I tasted the essence in the few days.

Take care who you love, my precious, he might not know.


Chinon CX+Expired Film+alchermes+vinegar+balsamic vinegar+greek alcool (raki)

The immense 48 foot tall 1500 ton “Transportation” sculpture that adorns the south or front entrance of Grand Central Terminal was mounted on the second half of 1914 almost a year after Grand Central Terminal opened in 1913 following 10 years of construction. Also referred to as “The Glory of Commerce”, it was designed by a professor from the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris Jules-Felix Coutan who actually never set foot on our continent because he claimed he had a fear of the distress American architecture would cause him. The actual task of building the massive sculpture out of the same Bedford limestone that adorned the terminal which took 7 years to complete fell upon the firm of Bradley and Sons of Long Island City in the borough of Queens.

The statuary group which features three gods of Roman mythology has a 28 foot Mercury at its center whose inclusion was greatly influenced by William K. Vanderbilt flanked by Hercules and Minerva. The logic behind the choosing of characters was specific. Hercules who represents the physical effort and achievements is muscular holding a hammer looking up at Mercury, surrounded by an anchor, a cogwheel, an anvil and a beehive which in one way or another represent technology which man has utilized to conquer the earth and the seas. Minerva who represents the intellectual efforts elegantly dressed with a quill pen in her right hand with a scroll in front of her. Together they depict that business requires both physical and intellectual effort to be successful. Directly below Mercury is a clock made of Tiffany glass with a circumference of 13 feet which at the time of its construction was the largest example of said Tiffany glass.

Interestingly enough, New York commuters have be experiencing what could be referred to a commuter hell because the other large operating train terminal on Manhattan, Pennsylvania Station, which is itself the busiest train station in the United States has been suffering through what are now emergency repairs to the tracks in Pennsylvania Station which are actually owned and operated by Amtrak. Amtrak was aware of the deteriorating situation, but did not act on it until multiple New Jersey Transit Trains which also utilize it derailed in the station (there was actually another last week) thus emergency repairs. I waited for a train that was almost more than an hour late in the crowded New Jersey Transit portion of the station last week, horrible so I can’t image the thousands of commuters who depend on it to get to work every weekday. Why am I mentioning Penn Station and Amtrak? Last month Amtrak announced that the Empire Service trains would be departing from Grand Central during this summer of 2017 which I believe would be the first since last Amtrak train stopped in Grand Central on April 7th, 1991 when the finished Empire Connection allow trains from Albany, Toronto and Montreal to use Pennsylvania Station.

This is an HDR rendition of 5 raw images taken with Olympus E-5 using an Olympus Zuiko Digital ED 12-60mm F2.8-4.0 SWD lens processed in Photomatix Pro, cleaned up in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom.


When the anger moves in and the light becomes magical, the rain begins to make its descent as it hammers the pavement. We run for the shelter of the car. Heads are bowed in mimed respect to nature, steps are long and fast and hands are linked. Inside the windows are blurred as facades of glass bottomed rivers. A woolen head rests upon my shoulder and the silence is nice.




If you wish to view more of my work please visit my website



(Please view in large -- the details are really lovely.)


Rotting snow on our front yard, lit by bright morning sunshine, had become an irresistible blanket of black diamonds.


However, when I looked closer, I could see long ridges of these crystalline structures.


I knew I could catch a little bokeh with my F/1.8 bokeh lens, but I wasn't quite sure of the rest of the composition.


Only once I cropped this in my PP program did I find this wondrous glass menagerie.


At first, I had introduced a topaz glow to this creation, but my opinionated 13-year grandson told me that it looked like a splash of "pee." After rolling around laughing, I relented, and exchanged the yellow tones for a touch of blue.


Everyone saw something different in these ice formations, but to me they look like an old Star Trek diorama, complete with a bug-eyed monster toting a ray gun.


My grandson, on the other hand, insists this delicate crystal image is just a fish on a fork. With a broken back.


Gotta love those grandkids. This one is for you, Perrin!


Love you always.


Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/8.0

Focal Length: 40 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/100

ISO: 100


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia

The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in

Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia


Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/4.5

Focal Length: 17 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/100

ISO: 1000

The Deserted House

Written by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge


“There's no smoke in the chimney,

And the rain beats on the floor;

There's no glass in the window,

There's no wood in the door;

The heather grows behind the house,

And the sand lies before.


No hand hath trained the ivy,

The walls are grey and bare;

The boats upon the sea sail by,

Nor ever tarry there.

No beast of the field comes nigh,

Nor any bird of the air.”


(The above snap is dedicated to someone who is the inspiration of my photography)


The sky that you see in this image is exactly how it looked at the time. It was very moody with this gorgeous golden tone.

Image was shot hand held with my Panasonic LX5 camera through a thick glass window.

Thank you to anyone who takes the time to leave me any comments.


We live in a blind town, full of deaf people, and mute wishes.


You try to see, see past all the lies they write on your forehead while you sleep.

I try to scream, scream past pictures of death and of our useless futures they draw down my arms when you look away.

Who we want to be tries to listen, listen to the one voice that whispers a bit of truth, a bit of hope, before it’s silenced by their knives of depressions and teeth of hate.


The way you hold my hand when you sense I’m scared ceases to comfort me because I spend too many hours crying on the cold floor now, trying to find reason.

Your eyes still look bloodshot, even when I stroke your arm ─ you’ve lost that shine, they’ve polished it away with their lies.

The cuts around your eyes worry me and you ask me why I keep coming home with bruises on my thighs.


“Why don’t you stop trusting your pretentious lies?” reads the blood they wipe on our door.

“Maybe you’ll someday plummet through your cold heart of narcissism and see” I scroll back in bruises and shards of glass.

"Hope is just a word, nothing achievable or fathomable or real”

I snicker “Someday you’ll see the other side but be too aesthetically conceited to rip through the bloody fabric, you monsters”


Darling, today we both truly managed to lose it, but it’s okay because it was bound to happen.

You squeeze my elbow and tell me maybe all of our breaths were fictive.

I say how serendipitous would that be?

You laugh, that dry cough of false humor which is all we can muster anymore, and say very.


“We’ll never be able to leave this place” I whimper through my tongues of false hope when you turn your back.

But you just pack our bags.


You blindfold me with an admiration and desire for reality and I follow you to the only certainty we know in this town.

The ocean roars, the salt air licks my face while you kiss my hand.

You tie a brick to both our feet and squeeze my hand one last time here.

“We’re going to a better place – there’s got to be something beyond here, I swear”


I hold my breath as you jump into the water and pull me in with you.

I wail as our futile bodies plummet into the sea below because

Eating my words never tasted so bittersweet.


. . . .


This lovely lady is always such an inspiration.

The glass has been falling all the afternoon,

And knowing better than the instrument

What winds are walking overhead, what zone

Of gray unrest is moving across the land,

I leave the book upon a pillowed chair

And walk from window to closed window, watching

Boughs strain against the sky


And think again, as often when the air

Moves inward toward a silent core of waiting,

How with a single purpose time has traveled

By secret currents of the undiscerned

Into this polar realm. Weather abroad

And weather in the heart alike come on

Regardless of prediction.


Between foreseeing and averting change

Lies all the mastery of elements

Which clocks and weatherglasses cannot alter.

Time in the hand is not control of time,

Nor shattered fragments of an instrument

A proof against the wind; the wind will rise,

We can only close the shutters.


I draw the curtains as the sky goes black

And set a match to candles sheathed in glass

Against the keyhole draught, the insistent whine

Of weather through the unsealed aperture.

This is our sole defense against the season;

These are the things we have learned to do

Who live in troubled regions.


(Adrienne Rich)



Thanks to Joes Sistah for the great texture

The Lighthouse is situated on the closest point of land to the Hawaiian Islands in the Continental United States.

Built in 1908 the lighthouse stands 115 feet tall, and features a 1st Order Fresnel Lens, over six feet in diameter and weighing more than six tons. The lens is made up of 666 hand-ground glass prisms all focused toward three sets of double bulls eyes.

At the sea side on the north coast of Wales the gull is much hated by the locals. It will eat anything, is big and aggressive and will take food out of your hand un-invited. They are screamed at, objects are thrown at them, glass, stones, guns are shot poison is put down.

When I was a boy we went to the sea side every year during miners fortnight. There was no spare food and gulls were never a problem.. I love this inquisitive clever thief.

Yesterday at the Octoberfest was mostly cloudy,

I had a great day with 230 photos, from animals to bike stunts and then some, found sea-glass old hand cut nails a naturally form stone skull and lots of Sea life in the hands of kids from our waters,

I will post more than one photo this week.

Have a lovely week ahead!

Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/4.5

Focal Length: 29 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/100

ISO: 3200


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia

I've been tagged by Selvin so here are 16 fairly mundane things about me (I'm not very interesting...really!!)


1. I've always been shy and quite and at school would never put up my hand even if I knew what the answer was.


2. My favourite food is probably cheese –a strong flavoured blue cheese mmm…


3. I am a beekeepers daughter but am allergic to beestings (as are my mother and sister)


4. As well as keeping bees we also had a small farm and my parents grew just about everything we ate (or it least it seemed that way when I was young).


5. I love marmite and lettuce sandwiches (and marmite and cheese).


6. I don’t like Coke or any similar cola drinks, I don’t think I’ve ever managed to drink even a glass full.


7. I have never learned how to drive…although I do know the rudiments and could if I had to.


8. Apart from the news I don’t watch much TV (I seem to spend all my time on the computer instead)


9. Although I’m an avid reader I have a very short-term memory when it comes to books. Ask me about a book I read a couple of weeks ago and apart from the basic plot I probably couldn’t tell you much about it –sad really


10. The last book I read was “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy (which I loved)


11. I’ve never been out of New Zealand and don’t even have a passport; hopefully this will change in the not too distant future.


12. I went to boarding school for 5 years, I hated it to start with but am glad I went both for the friendships I made and the opportunities it gave me.


13. When I’m doing one of my photo “creations” I almost never have an idea in mind until I start “playing”.


14. I love the beach but strangely enough have never been swimming in the sea.


15. My parents nickname for me when I was a child was “mini” and I’m still called that by them sometimes :-)


16. I’ve kept a diary almost continually since I was about 10, I still have almost all of them too; nowadays it’s really just a factual record but the earlier ones are fun (if embarrassing) to read.


17 . Finally.....I'll be away for the next couple of weeks -a long overdue holiday...can't wait!



In turn my victims are....







Thanks, Heidi, for the revised title!

Taken at The Regency, Laguna Woods, California. © 2012 All Rights Reserved.

My images are not to be used, copied, edited, or blogged without my explicit permission.

Please!! NO Glittery Awards or Large Graphics...Buddy Icons are OK. Thank You!




Happy Abstract Saturday, my Flickr friends! And now a very Happy Slideers Sunday!

And a wondrously Happy Father's Day! (Even if you aren't one, you had one! :D )

A hand above the water

An angel reaching for the sky

Is it raining in heaven

Do you want us to cry?


And everywhere the broken hearted

On every lonely avenue

No-one could reach them

No-one but you


One by one

Only the good die young

They're only flyin' too close to the sun

And life goes on -

Without you


Another tricky situation

I get to drownin' in the blues

And I find myself thinkin'

Well - what would you do


Yeah - it was such an operation

Forever paying every due

Hell, you made a sensation

You found a way through - and


One by one

Only the good die young

They're only flyin' too close to the sun

We'll remember -



And now the party must be over

I guess we'll never understand

The sense of your leaving

Was it the way it was planned?


And so we grace another table

And raise our glasses one more time

There's a face at the window

And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye...


One by one

Only the good die young

They're only flying too close to the sun

Cryin' for nothing

Cryin' for no one

No-one but you


♪♫"No-one but you (Only the good die young) (QUEEN)"♪♫

Casablanca, Morroco.......................2 pictures


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II (Arabic: مسجد الحسن الثاني‎; " ( is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in the country and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.

Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/22.0

Focal Length: 27 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/100

ISO: 100


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in

Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia

Gandhara is the name given to an ancient region or province invaded in 326 B.C. by Alexander the Great, who took Charsadda (ancient Puskalavati) near present-day Peshawar (ancient Purusapura) and then marched eastward across the Indus into the Punjab as far as the Beas river (ancient Vipasa). Gandhara constituted the undulating plains, irrigated by the Kabul River from the Khyber Pass area, the contemporary boundary between Pakistan and Afganistan, down to the Indus River and southward towards the Murree hills and Taxila (ancient Taksasila), near Pakistan"s present capital, Islamabad. Its art, however, during the first centuries of the Christian era, had adopted a substantially larger area, together with the upper stretches of the Kabul River, the valley of Kabul itself, and ancient Kapisa, as well as Swat and Buner towards the north.


A great deal of Gandhara sculptures has survived dating from the first to probably as late as the sixth or even the seventh century but in a remarkably homogeneous style. Most of the arts were almost always in a blue-gray mica schist, though sometimes in a green phyllite or in stucco, or very rarely in terracotta. Because of the appeal of its Western classical aesthetic for the British rulers of India, schooled to admire all things Greek and Roman, a great deal found its way into private hands or the shelter of museums.


Gandhara sculpture primarily comprised Buddhist monastic establishments. These monasteries provided a never-ending gallery for sculptured reliefs of the Buddha and Bodhisattvas. The Gandhara stupas were comparatively magnified and more intricate, but the most remarkable feature, which distinguished the Gandhara stupas from the pervious styles were hugely tiered umbrellas at its peak, almost soaring over the total structure. The abundance of Gandharan sculpture was an art, which originated with foreign artisans.


In the excavation among the varied miscellany of small bronze figures, though not often like Alexandrian imports, four or five Buddhist bronzes are very late in date. These further illustrate the aura of the Gandhara art. Relics of mural paintings though have been discovered, yet the only substantial body of painting, in Bamiyan, is moderately late, and much of it belongs to an Iranian or central Asian rather than an Indian context. Non-narrative themes and architectural ornament were omnipresent at that time. Mythical figures and animals such as atlantes, tritons, dragons, and sea serpents derive from the same source, although there is the occasional high-backed, stylized creature associated with the Central Asian animal style. Moldings and cornices are decorated mostly with acanthus, laurel, and vine, though sometimes with motifs of Indian, and occasionally ultimately western Asian, origin: stepped merlons, lion heads, vedikas, and lotus petals. It is worth noting that architectural elements such as pillars, gable ends, and domes as represented in the reliefs tend to follow the Indian forms



Gandhara became roughly a Holy Land of Buddhism and excluding a handful of Hindu images, sculpture took the form either of Buddhist sect objects, Buddha and Bodhisattvas, or of architectural embellishment for Buddhist monasteries. The more metaphorical kinds are demonstrated by small votive stupas, and bases teeming with stucco images and figurines that have lasted at Jaulian and Mora Moradu, outpost monasteries in the hills around Taxila. Hadda, near the present town of Jalalabad, has created some groups in stucco of an almost rococo while more latest works of art in baked clay, with strong Hellenistic influence, have been revealed there, in what sums up as tiny chapels. It is not known exactly why stucco, an imported Alexandrian modus operandi, was used. It is true that grey schist is not found near Taxila, however other stones are available, and in opposition to the ease of operating with stucco, predominantly the artistic effects which can be achieved, must be set with its impermanence- fresh deposits frequently had to be applied. Excluding possibly at Taxila, its use emerges to have been a late expansion.


Architectural fundamentals of the Gandhara art, like pillars, gable ends and domes as showcased in the reliefs, were inclined to follow Indian outlines, but the pilaster with capital of Corinthian type, abounds and in one-palace scene Persepolitan columns go along with Roman coffered ceilings. The so-called Shrine of the Double-Headed Eagle at Sirkap, in actuality a stupa pedestal, well demonstrates this enlightening eclecticism- the double-headed bird on top of the chaitya arch is an insignia of Scythian origin, which appears as a Byzantine motif and materialises much later in South India as the in addition to atop European armorial bearings.


In Gandhara art the descriptive friezes were all but invariably Buddhist, and hence Indian in substance- one depicted a horse on wheels nearing a doorway, which might have represented the Trojan horse affair, but this is under scan. The Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, familiar from the previous Greek-based coinage of the region, appeared once or twice as standing figurines, presumably because as a pair, they tallied an Indian mithuna couple. There were also female statuettes, corresponding to city goddesses. Though figures from Butkara, near Saidan Sharif in Swat, were noticeably more Indian in physical type, and Indian motifs were in abundance there. Sculpture was, in the main, Hellenistic or Roman, and the art of Gandhara was indeed "the easternmost appearance of the art of the Roman Empire, especially in its late and provincial manifestations". Furthermore, naturalistic portrait heads, one of the high-points of Roman sculpture, were all but missing in Gandhara, in spite of the episodic separated head, probably that of a donor, with a discernible feeling of uniqueness. Some constitutions and poses matched those from western Asia and the Roman world; like the manner in which a figure in a recurrently instanced scene from the Dipankara jataka had prostrated himself before the future Buddha, is reverberated in the pose of the defeated before the defeater on a Trojanic frieze on the Arch of Constantine and in later illustrations of the admiration of the divinised emperor. One singular recurrently occurring muscular male figure, hand on sword, witnessed in three-quarters view from the backside, has been adopted from western classical sculpture. On occasions standing figures, even the Buddha, deceived the elusive stylistic actions of the Roman sculptor, seeking to express majestas. The drapery was fundamentally Western- the folds and volume of dangling garments were carved with realness and gusto- but it was mainly the persistent endeavours at illusionism, though frequently obscured by unrefined carving, which earmarked the Gandhara sculpture as based on a western classical visual impact.


The distinguishing Gandhara sculpture, of which hundreds if not thousands of instances have outlived, is the standing or seated Buddha. This flawlessly reproduces the necessary nature of Gandhara art, in which a religious and an artistic constituent, drawn from widely varied cultures have been bonded. The iconography is purely Indian. The seated Buddha is mostly cross-legged in the established Indian manner. However, forthcoming generations, habituated to think of the Buddha as a monk, and unable to picture him ever possessing long hair or donning a turban, came to deduce the chigon as a "cranial protuberance", singular to Buddha. But Buddha is never depicted with a shaved head, as are the Sangha, the monks; his short hair is clothed either in waves or in taut curls over his whole head. The extended ears are merely due to the downward thrust of the heavy ear-rings worn by a prince or magnate; the distortion of the ear-lobes is especially visible in Buddha, who, in Gandhara, never wore ear-rings or ornaments of any kind. As Foucher puts it, the Gandhara Buddha is at a time a monk without shaving and a prince stripped off jewellery.


The western classical factor rests in the style, in the handling of the robe, and in the physiognomy of Buddha. The cloak, which covers all but the appendages (though the right shoulder is often bared), is dealt like in Greek and Roman sculptures; the heavy folds are given a plastic flair of their own, and only in poorer or later works do they deteriorate into indented lines, fairly a return to standard Indian practice. The "western" treatment has caused Buddha"s garment to be misidentified for a toga; but a toga is semicircular, while, Buddha wore a basic, rectangular piece of cloth, i.e., the samghiifi, a monk"s upper garment. The head gradually swerves towards a hieratic stylisation, but at its best, it is naturalistic and almost positively based on the Greek Apollo, undoubtedly in Hellenistic or Roman copies.


Gandhara art also had developed at least two species of image, i.e. not part of the frieze, in which Buddha is the fundamental figure of an event in his life, distinguished by accompanying figures and a detailed mise-en-scene. Perhaps the most remarkable amongst these is the Visit to the Indrasala Cave, of which the supreme example is dated in the year 89, almost unquestionably of the Kanishka period. Indra and his harpist are depicted on their visit in it. The small statuettes of the visitors emerge below, an elephant describing Indra. The more general among these detailed images, of which approximately 30 instances are known, is presumably related with the Great Miracle of Sravasti. In one such example, one of the adjoining Bodhisattvas is distinguished as Avalokiteshwara by the tiny seated Buddha in his headgear. Other features of these images include the unreal species of tree above Buddha, the spiky lotus upon which he sits, and the effortlessly identifiable figurines of Indra and Brahma on both sides.


Another important aspect of the Gandhara art was the coins of the Graeco-Bactrians. The coins of the Graeco-Bactrians - on the Greek metrological standard, equals the finest Attic examples and of the Indo-Greek kings, which have until lately served as the only instances of Greek art found in the subcontinent. The legendary silver double decadrachmas of Amyntas, possibly a remembrance issue, are the biggest "Greek" coins ever minted, the largest cast in gold, is the exceptional decadrachma of the same king in the Bibliotheque Nationale, with the Dioscuri on the inverse. Otherwise, there was scanty evidence until recently of Greek or Hellenistic influences in Gandhara. A manifestation of Greek metropolitan planning is furnished by the rectilinear layouts of two cities of the 1st centuries B.C./A.D.--Sirkap at Taxila and Shaikhan Pheri at Charsadda. Remains of the temple at Jandial, also at Taxila and presumably dating back to 1st century B.C., also includes Greek characteristics- remarkably the huge base mouldings and the Ionic capitals of the colossal portico and antechamber columns. In contrast, the columns or pilasters on the immeasurable Gandhara friezes (when they are not in a Indian style), are consistently coronated by Indo-Corinthian capitals, the local version of the Corinthian capital- a certain sign of a comparatively later date.


The notable Begram hoard confirms articulately to the number and multiplicity of origin of the foreign artefacts imported into Gandhara. This further illustrates the foreign influence in the Gandhara art. Parallel hoards have been found in peninsular India, especially in Kolhapur in Maharashtra, but the imported wares are sternly from the Roman world. At Begram the ancient Kapisa, near Kabul, there are bronzes, possibly of Alexandrian manufacture, in close proximity with emblemata (plaster discs, certainly meant as moulds for local silversmiths), bearing reliefs in the purest classical vein, Chinese lacquers and Roman glass. The hoard was possibly sealed in mid-3rd century, when some of the subjects may have been approximately 200 years old "antiques", frequently themselves replicates of classical Greek objects. The plentiful ivories, consisting in the central of chest and throne facings, engraved in a number of varied relief techniques, were credibly developed somewhere between Mathura and coastal Andhra. Some are of unrivalled beauty. Even though a few secluded instances of early Indian ivory carving have outlived, including the legendary mirror handle from Pompeii, the Begram ivories are the only substantial collection known until moderately in present times of what must always have been a widespread craft. Other sites, particularly Taxila, have generated great many instances of such imports, some from India, some, like the appealing tiny bronze figure of Harpocrates, undoubtedly from Alexandria. Further cultural influences are authenticated by the Scytho Sarmatian jewellery, with its characteristic high-backed carnivores, and by a statue of St. Peter. But all this should not cloud the all-important truth that the immediately identifiable Gandhara style was the prevailing form of artistic manifestation throughout the expanse for several centuries, and the magnitude of its influence on the art of central Asia and China and as far as Japan, allows no doubt about its integrity and vitality.


In the Gandhara art early Buddhist iconography drew heavily on traditional sources, incorporating Hindu gods and goddesses into a Buddhist pantheon and adapting old folk tales to Buddhist religious purposes. Kubera and Harm are probably the best-known examples of this process.


Five dated idols from Gandhara art though exist, however the hitch remains that the era is never distinguished. The dates are in figures under 100 or else in 300s. Moreover one of the higher numbers are debatable, besides, the image upon which it is engraved is not in the conventional Andhra style. The two low-number-dated idols are the most sophisticated and the least injured. Their pattern is classical Gandhara. The most undemanding rendition of their dates relates them to Kanishka and 78 A.D. is assumed as the commencement of his era. They both fall in the second half of the 2nd century A.D. and equally later, if a later date is necessitated for the beginning of Kanishka`s time. This calculation nearly parallels numismatics and archaeological evidences. The application of other eras, like the Vikrama (base date- 58 B.C.) and the Saka (base date- 78 A.D.), would place them much later. The badly battered figurines portray standing Buddhas, without a head of its own, but both on original figured plinths. They come to view as depicting the classical Gandhara style; decision regarding where to place these two dated Buddhas, both standing, must remain knotty till more evidence comes out as to how late the classical Gandhara panache had continued.


Methodical study of the Gandhara art, and specifically about its origins and expansion, is befuddled with numerous problems, not at least of which is the inordinately complex history and culture of the province. It is one of the great ethnical crossroads of the world simultaneously being in the path of all the intrusions of India for over three millennia. Bussagli has rightly remarked, `More than any other Indian region, Gandhara was a participant in the political and cultural events that concerned the rest of the Asian continent`.


However, Systematic study of the art of Gandhara, and particularly of its origins and development, is bedeviled by many problems, not the least of which is the extraordinarily complex history and culture of the region.


In spite of the labours of many scholars over the past hundred and fifty years, the answers to some of the most important questions, such as the number of centuries spanned by the art of Gandhara, still await, fresh archaeological, inscriptional, or numismatic evidence.

Have a Glass of Vinsanto or Assyrtiko with me while reading Seferis ... Love to You All my Flickr friends ♥


" Bend if you can to the Dark Sea ...

Write if you can on your Last Shell the Day the Place the Name and Fling it into the Sea so that it sinks ...

Let your Hands Go Travelling if you can ...

Free yourself from Unfaithful Time and Sink ...

So sinks whoever Raises the Great Stones ... " G.Seferis


♥ Thanks & Gratitude for your visits my Flickr friends ♥ Thanks are the Highest form of Thought & Gratitude is Happiness ✿ڿڰۣ(̆̃̃ ღ ♥


* One eye Sees the other Feels ... **


-- inspired by the title of a novel by Karen Jane Fowler


And then there's -- “In the end, we self-perceiving, self-inventing, locked-in mirages are little miracles of self-reference.”

{ Douglas R. Hofstadter }

I Am a Strange Loop


This image is the header of my new blog -

Suburban Halfling in Virtual Paradise


Location: Home

Mindwalker Beach


Some details include:

-Body, hands and feet by The Mesh Body Project (free in beta)

Skin on my head - Izzie's

-Hair by Truth

-Outfit by Tee*fy

-Jewelry by Maxi Gossamer

-Glasses by December

-Awesome sauce new boat sand box by BoOgErS for FLF

-Gardening gnome- Mutresse

-Lotus head fish and sea monster by +Half-Deer+

Sand castle - Cheeky Pea


Redeem the surrogate goodbyes

the sheet astream in your hand...

and the glass unmisted above your eyes.


Redime lo que reemplaza a los adioses

la sábana de agua que navega en tu mano...

y el espejo sin niebla encima de tus ojos.


Samuel Beckett


Larger on Black

Standing on the deck of a heavily pitching whale watching ship the only option was to use my little Ricoh R4 to capture this wonderful scene. I wouldn't have wanted diced carrot on the ground glass anyway!!

It's amazing how much digital compacts have moved on since I took this back in 2007. The original file of this is 17mb but the noise filters on the camera were so poor that there would be virtually no chance of a decent print from the file. My Lumix on the other hand would have done a really great job of this missed opportunity.

On the subject of small stuff I am selling my mint condition Lee RF75 filter system if anyone is interested. It comprises the holder, three hard and three soft grads plus adapter rings for 52, 49 and 40.5mm threads. A chance to jump the waiting list and save aa huge chunk off the new price. I'm not saying more here because I'll have my knuckles rapped by the flickr police but the info can be found on my facebook page.

Up to now it has been assumed that all our cognition must conform to the objects; but ... let us once try… assuming that the objects must conform to our cognition.

-Immanuel Kant, the 18th century German philosopher


An important code of object recognition is color. The grass is green, the rose is pink and the sky is blue. But then, is the sky really blue or is it a figment of our imagination? What if I told you, colors are colorful exercise of the mind and are defined by our experience of the world and the blue of the sky is a coat of surreal identity we all impose unknowingly on the sky to suit our cognition?


We sense colors though a set of cells in our retina, the cones. The number of cones varies widely among individuals. Yet, everyone can identify colors with more or less comparable efficiency. All of us will look at the sky and agree it is blue. This is because colors are recognized not by the cones but by our brain. And the brain is a crazy place, literally speaking. Think about colored sunglasses. Unless the viewer consciously remembers wearing them, people using these colored glasses tend to 'see' original colors of their surroundings after few minutes. In this case, the brain auto-corrects the color tint rendered by the glasses relying on previous experience. The midday sky, which turns pink or lavender in one of those Bono eye-wears, appears the usual blue after few minutes. You see, colors are not merely what we see. They are also what we have seen in the past. Despite the deformed perception of the sky in the present due to chromatic glasses, the brain remembers and makes the perceived sky conform to our regular cognition.


Our issue on hands gets more interesting with achromats. Achromatopsia is hereditary total colorblindness where achromats lack functional cones in their retina and do not sense any color and see everything in black, white and all imaginable shades of grey. Often, they describe things as ‘lighter than’ or ‘darker then’. How is the sky to them? Lighter than the rain clouds perhaps? Perhaps, darker than breaking waves? So, are these achromatic brains conforming to objects or are objects conforming to the brain in every possible shade in between white and black? The answer may rest with patients suffering from 'Cerebral Achromatopsia', where accidental dysfunction of the brain region responsible for 'creating' colors leads to a loss of color perception despite functional cones. To these unfortunate colorless minds, who were once coded in color but now fail to use the code, the sky might as well be a lump of incongruous jelly hanging up there.


As these mindless thoughts crowded my mind that afternoon at Point Reyes, I could not help but marveled at the sublime surrounding me. Sublime, as defined in psychology, is the ‘feeling of pleasure (or displeasure) in the superiority of our reason over nature’. Being a feeling, sublime is not contained in the nature; like the colors that surround us, it is contained in our mind. You see… Out there, the sky is beautiful; in my mind, it is blue and it is sublime.


This is a small shell measuring 1-3/4 inches (4.44 cm.). I propped it up in a vertical position by leaning it against a small block of glass.


Lighting: The main light was a Yongnuo flash in a 24 inch gridded soft box at camera left at 9 o'clock. I wanted to show the luminous quality of the shell so I back lit it with a hand held Yongnuo flash with a rogue grid on it that was in back at camera right.


I have quite a few sea shell pictures, and if you enjoy that sort of thing, they're in my Shells album.


The Hassan II Mosque or Grande Mosquée Hassan II is a mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. It is the largest mosque in

Morocco and Africa and the 7th largest in the world. Its minaret is the world's tallest at 210 metres (689 ft). Completed in 1993, it was designed by Michel Pinseau and built by Bouygues. The minaret is 60 stories high topped by a laser, the light from which is directed towards Mecca. The mosque stands on a promontory looking out to the Atlantic Ocean, the sea bed being visible through the glass floor of the building's hall. The walls are of hand-crafted marble and the roof is retractable. A maximum of 105,000 worshippers can gather together for prayer: 25,000 inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque's outside grounds.


Source: Wikipedia


Camera: Canon Eos 6D

Lens: EF17-40mmF/4L-USM

Aperture: f/4.0

Focal Length: 25 mm

Shutter Speed: 1/100

ISO: 8000

The clouds were very bright in this shot, so I used a graduated ND hand-held glass in front of the lens. The sky was beginning to turn red therefore accounting for the pinkish hue.

Ziess 21mm f@16 0.7 .


A late minuet decision to drive over to Trebarwith-Strand in north Cornwall . [ just love the sound of that name ] as the tide and light was looking promising , nice to bump in to Mark again .

As i was leaving i with my new toy the 24 T/S i noticed my Ziess siting there seemingly to look all rejected as it had,n,t been out sins i brought the T/S , feeling sorry for it i changed over lenses .

They are very different beasts both top quality glass that perform very differently . The T/S is much more versatile with its perspective control and it,s ability to take panos , both are equally as sharp as each other . On the other hand The Ziess reins supreme in its contrast and flair control , and the way in renders colours in such a beautiful way . probably like having two beautiful sexy girlfriends and not knowing which one to chose [ Not that i would Know ] . shame really that Ziess does,n,t get its act together and produce T/S lenses .


My web site .


Getty images for sale .


Getty Curators , editors .

The Ogden Point Breakwater in Victoria, BC, Canada.


Nikon FA;

Nikon Series E 35mm f2.5;

Kodak Ektar 100;

B+W 6-stop ND filter

O, my luve's like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June.

O, my luve's like the melodie,

That's sweetly play'd in tune.


As fair art thou, my bonie lass,

So deep in luve am I,

And I will luve thee still, my Dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry.


Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun!

O I will luve thee still, my Dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.


And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

And fare thee weel a while!

And I will come again, my Luve,

Tho' it were ten thousand mile!


Robert Burns.




Paper roses, made for this image for my wife’s Valentines card.


Each rose hand made from a square piece of red card, composed on a sheet of glass with a piece of black velvet below to enhance the reflection.


Lit using a small diffused table lamp.




Happy Valentines to all on Flickr.


Best seen on black - Press L

Next in 'stream shows the method. Old glass globe fishing float in left hand, camera in right. Experimental.

Model: Skye McLeod Fairywren

Skin: Amaterasu by Essences

Hair: Dura-Boys&Girls*23

Eyes: Glass Promise Eyes by Ikon

Eyelashes: Hollywood by Redgrave

Lips: Mizu Gloss Medium Carmine by M.O.C.K.

Brows: Natural Brows 2 - Alluring by The Skinnery

Nails: Slink Nails by Slink

Outfit: Limone Top & Shorts by !gO! (group gift)

Jewelry: EarthStones Shells & Pearls Earrings & Necklace

Hands: Casual by Slink

Feet: Flat by Slink

Sim: OTIUM - Leisure & Laziness, Serena Long Cay @

Mandala ..when i looked it up, the definition i saw was ~maṇḍala "essence" + "having" or "containing"

This piece contains my essence,' bits' of my past , present and hopefully my future are here :)

It is 38 cms edge to edge, an Ikea lazy susan.It is made up of stained glass, vit tiles,tg,ceramic tiles,marble,smalti,glass gems, buttons,plastic beads, wooden beads, glass beads, mille, sea glass,jewellery, hand made pc tiles,glass from flickr friends accross the world ,sports awards,...lots of things that are important to me !!


This is one of the most healing of crystals. I have mine sitting in sea salt, drawing negativity from the atmosphere.


My Olympus OM-1 w/ 50mm Zuiko lens + a 2x magnifying glass = Magnifying glass macro.


I hand held the magnifying glass in front of the camera lens and used it to increase the range of the 50mm lens. The magnifying glass I bought was a plastic one, so I don't know if some of the distortions were because of that (like in a Holga which has a plastic lens).


I used Kodak Porta 400 vc film.

Martha's Vineyard lends itself to good feelings that a "Great Day" is at hand. Working there short term begs that you stay a day or for yourself. Far be it for me not to take the hint and catch lunch by the bay. Meeting locals there is easy as is the conversations over a glass of wine. If you ever get a chance to visit the area, please go. Ask locals where to go with camera in hand. Nice name for a vessel if you can see it on the side.


View in Black

Yesterday's launch of the Space Shuttle Atlantis, as seen from about 7-8 miles away. That was as close as I could get without a press pass. Next time I'll apply for a press pass ahead of time or bring longer glass.


The sea breeze was so strong at launch time that I had to add a weight to the tripod's center column hook and press down on the top of the lens with my left hand, directly above the tripod mount point, to help stabilize the image. Being the first launch of the season, the traffic was so heavy afterwards, it took almost four hours to make it back to basecamp in Orlando from Cape Canaveral, Florida.



Why should they please us so,

those impossible runs,


or the knowledge

that the pianists hand

has spanned an inhumane distance?


That someone years ago conceived

"this might be true"

and once again it´s proved?


Light bends in water,

breaks into cut glass:

I watched this endlessly as a child.


And now do not know which one

I want more?

When sometimes I hear the sound,


sometimes the silence,

and they are equally beautiful

and bare


~ ~ ~


at night it is


to focus your eyes

a little off to one side;


it is better to know things

drained of their colour, to fathom

the black horses cropping

at winter grass,


their white jaws that move

in steady rotation, a sweet sound.


And when they file off to shelter

under trees

you will find the pale circles of snow

pushed aside, earth opening

its single, steadfast gaze:


towards stars ticking by, one by one,


the given world


precisely out of its frame.


~ ~ ~


In that world, the angels wear fins.

Red hulls pass over like clouds, their shadows

angling down between ropes of sun.


When women who have dived there return,

they do not speak of oysters and pearls.

Shaking their heads they say "There is nothing."

They say, "We must look somewhere else,"

and twist their black hair in the world of men,


and wade heavily through the grass-scented air.

From this they know loss like salt:

How without it, the tongue grows stubborn and dull,

tasting no~thing.


But the wild flavour, the sea, how it moves in them,

hip and thigh _ a soundless current, kicking


the rest of their lives


~ ~ ~


Palest wash of stone-rubbed ink

leaves open the moon: un~painted circle,

how does it raise so much light?


Below, the mountains

loose themselves in dreaming

a single, thatch-roofed hut.


Not that the hut lends meaning

to the mountains

or the moon _


It is a place to rest the eye after much travelling,

is -




And the heart, unscrolled,

is comforted by such small things:


a cup of tea rescues


grows deep and large,


a lake ~ ~ ~


- Jane Hirshfield: Of Gravity & Angels. Wesleyan University Press

What an evening at Land's End…. That was my first time being impressed by such a lovely scenery in here. After a beautiful evening of taking shots basically everywhere around I started packing in to be ready for departure. Then I got told there'd be fireworks later on.. Thank to Tony Armstrong I managed to capture some - thanks very much! That was an unforgettable view I was admiring with a glass of wine in my hand standing on the edge of the cliff hah. This shot is a merged shot of 2; one for the foreground and the other for the background. I had to set up ISO really high for the sky as it was completely dark when the fireworks were being displayed which makes it looks really soft after reducing noise in PS. Still glad what I have captured :)

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