Royal Adelaide Show 2022

underwood

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Underwood_Typewriter_Company

regal

on the street

Classic Cars #2

Classic Cars #1

Miami

water

Long-haired freaky people Need not apply

Botanical Gardens

14 Macro Photographs Of Insects Covered In Morning Dew By Martin Amm

time for color…

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Instagram

Hey there everyone!

Another change has happened within the last few weeks… I post a positive message (image) to my Instagram account every day! It’s typically a message that I will take with me through my day and I hope that seeing it helps others during their day. Check it out here!

Gavin Kerslake Featured Blogger for December

Introducing

It’s an honor to introduce good friend Gavin Kerslake as Featured Blogger for December 2017. Gavin’s highly successful personal site Noir, http://www.sedge808.com. I have no doubt you will want to follow his work. Gavin also contributes to http://www.survivorsbloghere@wordpress.com, a Survivors community.

Gavin is a Professional Photographer, Music Lover, Street Dancer and Published Author. His first book ‘Noir’ released in September 2017.

What hobbies do you have outside of photography?

Music is my favorite thing in my life. I’m into electronic music, but love all kinds of music. Film (movies, TV Series etc) are a big thing in my life. Love Horror and Science Fiction, but also like Foreign Films very much too. I watch a lot of them.

When did you start dancing? Did you dream of having a Studio? 

I started dancing in my late teens, and went to jazz classes every week. In my early 20’s I took up full-time study. In my 30’s I became a dance teacher. Ballroom, jazz, Techno, Latin and Rock and Roll. I never had a desire for a studio.

Tell me about performing with the Australian Ballet Company.

It was a huge honor. They travel around Australia to each city. Myself and another man were chosen to perform with the ballet. A bit like an extra in a movie. It was awesome, a lot of fun. Wore a full Scottish kilt, for each performance and stage make up

Your first photos were in color, why did you switch to Black and White?

Very good question. Color was very much my thing when I started photography in 2009. The Flickr community got me interested because I was seeing a lot of Black and White photography. That’s when I made the change, and joined WordPress. My followers were used to me doing color, when I started B&W, they didn’t like it. I decided to use WordPress for my B&W photos.

Your book Noir looks incredible, the photos flow so well. How did you decide on layout?

Thank you very much. It took a lot of effort, and I got RSI from all the work I put into it. I wanted to have themes that flowed throughout the book. I’m very happy with the result.

How do you feel with a published book?

Proud and happy. There are more books coming in the future, but they will be color.

It’s a pleasure to work with friends, hugs…thank you Gavin.     Melinda

Here are additional outlets where you can find Gavin’s work.

http://www.fluidr.com/photos/sedge808/interesting

http://www.redbubble.com/people/sedge808

http://au.blurb.com/b/8048225-noir

you’ve got mail

32

Graf

a peaceful mind…

SwittersB & Exploring

hoping your burdens & cares are lessened heading into the weekend…good cheer!

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tree-mendos

back again <3

Hi All,

things are back on track and I’m back.

Vivian Maier

Undated

Undated, New York, NY

September 29, 1959, New York, NY

July 1956

1959, Grenoble, France

i just discovered this brilliant photographer…after watching finding Vivian Maier

Home

Flickr Wednesday: Kathryn Louise

We Are Family

So Here’s Some Cool Train Track Pics for You | [PHOTOS]

Hello and Happy Memorial Day. One thing I love aside from taking pictures at the beach, is taking pictures of train tracks. They entrance and mystify me somehow. I wanted to share them with you. Please feel free to use them and kindly link back to this blog so I can see how you incorporated them into your work.

Enjoy and thank you all for your support and readership!

Diddy-Bop

Smokes

The Dream Shall Prevail

Then, It Rained

Hummingbird

Sunsets and Memories

Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.” ― Richard Paul Evans, The Gift

Sunsets, like empires and memories of love long ago, fade slow; first brilliant, then warm, and finally passing to silk brocade on black velvet.  How much more beautiful they are in memory when the busy moments of planning and passing through life have stilled.

STICKS and STONES by Topaz Winters

One’s dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered. ― Michael J. Fox

“I sometimes pretend I’m a Phoenix” – Topaz Winters, from Sticks and Stones

 

It’s my pleasure to bring you another poem submitted by Topaz Winters. Her poem takes us inside the maelstrom of a wounded spirit stuck between feeling the reality of unrelenting anguish from abuse, trauma, abandonment, and the dream of love and life as first imagined. The journey to healing is never swift or without setbacks captured in the line, “I sometimes pretend I’m a phoenix.” Topaz’s advocacy for survivors and awareness is greatly appreciated.  Topaz offered her poem as a tribute to the readers and authors that know abuse and trauma all too well. Thank you for your continued support, Topaz.  And now, dear reader, I submit to you, Sticks and Stones by Topaz Winters.

LITTLE CREEK

Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused. ― Paulo Coelho

Love is an untamed force.  Indeed.  I’ve spent a lifetime trying to understand it and in the end realized that the torture of asking why, what if, and if only served to deepen the wounds of memories whose sharp rusted edges tear and bruise one’s heart and spirit each moment they live above the surface of that restive cauldron that never cools.  I’ve realized that it’s the mind that eventually falters and in time the pitted patina of our youthful losses fade into a gray-blue surreal scene with black edges and dark contrasts.  Peace comes when the mind hears and no longer recognizes the sound of that first anguished cry.  

A Faded Rose

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. ― Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

In a follow on to my side trip into aging gracefully, I made a few tweaks to this previous post to give a snapshot into the thoughts one has for a loved one as they grow old together and frailty begins to pull one away from the other.

The metaphor of life from a faded rose in my garden struck me one day as I watched it fade, almost over night.  Memories of youth and life played like a song in my mind even though the words played hide and seek as I searched my mind to no avail to remember dates, names, and faces of those long gone. How our lives fade came to me all too clear in that moment through the lens when the rose came into focus.

Castle Walls

CASTLE WALLS

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.”

― Joseph Campbell

 

Juron felt safe in his castle. He was of noble stock, the ruler of his domain – a population of one soul complete with body. Juron and his two aether-friends lived a carefree life. They roamed about the castle of their own free will. Juron’s imagination and shadow played gleefully but never too far away from him. The freedom to choose where he would go and what room he would visit gave him a sense of the explorer’s wonder.

Of Joy and Shame

“Watch out for each other. Love everyone and forgive everyone, including yourself. Forgive your anger. Forgive your guilt. Your shame. Your sadness. Embrace and open up your love, your joy, your truth, and most especially your heart.” ― Jim Henson

 

Joy and Shame

The voice of Joy and Shame,

Forever call my name.

I hear their pleading day and night,

Step from the shadows into the light.

Come to me, the voice calls;

One rises, the other falls.

The touch of Joy, a fleeting game,

The rival player, a crying Shame.

I love them both, I cannot choose;

Side-by-side, they play my Muse;

At the end, I turn away,

They’ll be back another day.

Neither hopes to ever win;

But, they  know; I’ll play again.

The Mare

When I was a child,
There was a mare;
She waited for me each day.
With her, I rode to far off lands,
And dreamed my life away.
As I grew, she stayed in place,
Her eyes straight forward, her mouth agape.
I no longer noticed her wild-eyed stare,
Neglected by my hectic pace.
Then, one day, I returned to her;
Sadness and wrinkles upon my face.
One last time, I hugged her neck,
And together we rode away.

The Wind Upon My Face

I lived for the wind upon my face.
Rain and sun cleansed me;
But, the wind was my fate.
No storm pushed me from its path.
I stood steadfast and strong.
In time, the work I lived to do,
Nourished the soil and did no wrong.
My toil was the measure of my worth,
And all rejoiced in song.
I turned to the wind and gave my life,
My reward a productive earth.
But, then I aged and skipped a beat,
My body bent and worn.
I’ll not die an untimely death,
brought down by grueling pace,
My value from me torn.
I’ll stand erect, locked in my stance,
And weather every storm.
I shall simply live for the wind upon my face.