deviantART: Popular Mothers Day Abstract & Surreal

dream real, real dream

Sat, 19 Feb 2011 11:39:27 PST

A dream is real untill you wake up.
Then ask yourself, was it a dream or am I asleep now?
Smudge your dream and see what is real.
Or blur the real and watch if it is a dream.
Look at this photo and decide, what is your upside.

Johnson, Jack: Upside Down

Who's to say what's impossible?
Well they forgot this world keeps spinning
And with each new day
I can feel a change in everything

And as the surface breaks reflections fade
But in some ways they remain the same
And as my mind begins to spread its wings
There's no stopping curiosity

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

Who's to say I can't do everything?
Well I can try, and as I roll along I begin to find
Things aren't always just what they seem

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's song

This world keeps spinning and there's no time to waste
Well it all keeps spinning, spinning

Round and round and upside down
Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found?
I don't want this feeling to go away

Please don't go away
Please don't go away
Please don't go away

Is this how it's supposed to be?
Is this how it's supposed to be?

*Nelleke thanks for supporting my photography

Featured:
*reeh0
*augenweide
!Canon2010
`LeashaAHooker
*steelhearted
*Flyy1
=GingerKellyStudio
!Canon2010
~4EverYoungKid
~m3taph0res [link]
*Lydia-distracted
*youarenotalone2
*Nature-as-is
*Spider-Shadowz

Inspired:
*Nelleke

Sweets For My Sweet

Fri, 22 Apr 2011 15:25:20 PDT

As we have Earth Day today, I wish Mother Earth could look like this!

See more of my infrared work here [link]

See more of my work in general here [link]

Thanks for looking, your comments are welcome (and desired),

Ingo

A Strange New World

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 21:54:13 PDT

This is what it's like to find yourself in a strange new world...

Time-Zero film (expired)
Polaroid SX-70

Shot of the Day (Polanoid)
2009-08-07

Time for a print for my mother.

Hecate - Sea Sorcery

Mon, 05 May 2008 03:46:51 PDT

Hecate represented all three aspects of the Goddess as Maiden, Mother and Crone. In her Crone aspect, symbolized by the dark moon, she was the Goddess of the Dead and the Queen of the Night. Hecate was worshiped at the intersections of three roads, where she walked with her spectral hounds, illuminating the night with her blazing torch. Those who worshiped Hecate knew the secrets of magic and sorcery, and dedicated their work to the dark goddess. The Crone aspect of women, represented by Hecate, was honored in many cultures as the wise woman, the guide to the Underworld and the great revealer of the mysteries.

Invoke Hecate for magic, witchcraft, enchantment, power, shamanism, rain, business, wealth, healing, purification, expiation, wisdom, hunting, divination, incantations, favor, prophecy, transformation, endings, regeneration, empowerment, victory, reincarnation, lunar magic, money spells, psychic work, dream magic, cauldron spells, crone power, knowledge of magic, good luck for hunters and sailors, help in the final stage of childbirth; blessing, casting spells, making charms, averting evil, finding stolen children, and protection from evil spirits. Hecate is also invoked to protect children, sailors, flocks, roadways, the poor, and the downtrodden. Invoke her as Hecabe for psychic work. Practitioners on left hand paths invoke Hecate for black magic, blasting, cursing, destruction, hexing, vengeance, necromancy, controlling demons, and calling storms that ruin harvests.

Hecate is said to be a lot more likely to give you what you need than what you ask her for, so some witches find it more effective to simply ask her to send them whatever is needed in their lives. Three torches can be used to invoke Hecate. Crossroads, tombs, and crime scenes are powerful places for her invocation. She is best invoked at the Full Moon, while the Moon is waning, and on the dark nights just before the New Moon. Hecate is only invoked after night falls, in moonlight or in torchlight.

To honor Hecate, erect her three-faced image at a crossroads where three roads meet. This is also where offerings to her are left, at Full Moon. Honey, menstrual blood, roast meat, graveyard dirt (ground patchouli leaves, alone or mixed with other dried herbs), and eggs and onions that have been used to absorb negative vibrations in the home, are all suitable offerings to Hecate. Red wine, honey, and willow water, an infusion of willow bark, are appropriate for libations to her.

Hekatombs, a Greek word used to mean any large sacrifice, was originally a sacrifice of one hundred oxen offered to Hecate. Black dogs, black lambs, and even black slaves were also once sacrificed to her, by magicians who sought her help in their workings.

Greeks who worshiped Hecate had a custom of holding Hecate Suppers in her honor, at Full Moon and on her feast days. Roast meat, honey cakes, and seeded breads are among the appropriate foods for such a dinner. It is traditional to save a bit of each of the dishes from a Hecate Supper to leave as an offering to her.

Caution should be used when invoking Hecate. She is an active goddess who is very likely to answer if you call her, but she is not one who can be easily dismissed. Invoking Hecate may be the start of a lifetime in her service, so consider this before you invoke her.

Brooding Relic

Sun, 21 Aug 2011 08:48:12 PDT

This is my new typewriter. Bought for only £5.00 by my mother at a carboot sale local to her (the owner seemed desperate to sell it or even give it away). A few days after she bought it, she started to get nightmares. Consistently, night after night. Until the point where she was hearing faint whispering in her bedroom, things were being moving around the house.

She has gone on vacation for a few days and I drove over to pick it up. When I entered her house, the whole aura felt bad. I walked into her bedroom and saw the typewriter, enclosed neatly in its pristine case. The bedroom was absolutely freezing cold, even though outside it must of been about 20C.

When I finally got home with it, I was trying to figure out how the mechanism worked to open the case. I flipped open the latch, pressed the small button aside with no avail. I assumed it must of been jammed, I held it there for a few seconds and then it just fell out the base of the case, slamming onto my dinner table and it scared the hell out of me.

I've not had the nightmares or heard the eery whispering in my bedroom, as of yet. That takes a few days apparently. I will write a brief journal if anything unusual happens.

This typewriter is fully functional, mechanically it's in sound condition and the ink ribbon has not dried entirely. There is just a little scuff on the front.

A Heavy Halo To Wear

Tue, 11 Jan 2011 19:19:20 PST

A little bit different than Conjuring, though i had to carry over one of the light thingies to this one and tilt to get what i was going for. [Or, as my mother in law called it, the wormhole.] It's not very easy to spin a bunch of lights on a wire frame while "posing" AND making sure the camera is recognizing the remote in my hand, for those who were wondering.
Anyways, I've been so preoccupied with putting together other things i temporarily forgot i'd wanted to post something [almost] every day. Whoops.

010511
Canon t2i

All images in my account are © Caryn Drexl and are not to be used without permission.
www.caryndrexl.com

.Atom Heart Mother.

Mon, 10 Jan 2011 01:08:25 PST

Would you like to say something before you leave
Perhaps you'd care to state exactly how you feel
We said good-bye before we said hello
I hardly even like you, I shouldn't care at all
We met just six hours ago, the music was too loud
From your bed I gained a day and lost a bloody year
And I would like to know
How do you feel, how do you feel, how do you feel?

Not a single word was said, delights still without fears
Occasionally you showed a smile but what was the need
I felt the cold far too soon - the wind of '95
My friends are lying in the sun, I wish that I was there
Tomorrow brings another town and another girl like you
Have you time before you leave to greet another man
Just you let me know
How do you feel, how do you feel, how do you feel?

Pink Floyd

The world of lonely souls

Wed, 14 Dec 2011 00:20:20 PST

Motion blur again.

I m still sick. not very well but finally everymorning I m at work.
So, why I m posting this work here now but not forgetting DA. for a while?

For this kind work, I made an argument with a friend who sees himself as a master photographer.I m not a proffessional photographer and dont need to be perfect too!

it is my style to try new things.I accept every kind changes in my life but people not showing understanding always.
But if the deviant mean is to be different than others, yes I m a DEVİANT.
Changes are nice.No one learns things in his/her mother's womb! İt is nice to see that many popular artists are posting similar works lately on DA. I m not as popular as them. But it shows me that we r the same, we need changes sometimes in duration of our life.it just can give me honour to see others also trying my style)

Please do not hesitate to try new things!

Hope u like my work. Thank u very much for everykind support

Yellow

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 12:51:27 PDT

'Visiting day-
little girl in a pink dress
walks up to me and says,
"Are you real?"
"Yes, I'm real", I say.
Her mother calls her
back and as she runs away
she looks back over her
shoulder and says
"You're not real."'

Best of Mermaid compilation CD

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 01:58:52 PDT

History says that mermaids are half humans and half fish. People get a shock if they see a mermaid on land. This girl has ability to stay on land as well. An 8 year old girl recently stunned all doctors of USA. Shiloh Pepin is popularly known as mermaid girl. This girl is a miracle child because she was born without many internal organs. She had no bladder, intestine, rectum and kidney. Her legs were fused together and were difficult to separate. Doctors carried out 150 surgeries on her body to transplant her body parts. Mermaid girl was born in Kennebunkport of Maine.

She is the fourth person in the world, who suffered congenital condition called Sirenomelia. Sirenomelia is also called as mermaid syndrome. In this syndrome both legs of the baby fuse together when baby is in mothers womb. Most babies born with this syndrome die at an early stage, but it was miracle to see Shiloh still surviving? Reason behind such condition is still unknown, but doctors feel that this condition occurs because of weak circulatory system. Circulatory system of a baby does not develop before birth that is why some babies are born with weak internal organs. Mermaid girl had her first kidney transplant when she was 2 years old. Second transplant was carried out on august in next year. Other operations were also carried out on her to reconstruct her circulatory system. She goes to the bathroom in bags attached to her. Her parents change her bags once a day.

A Mother's Day Mural

Sun, 09 May 2010 19:45:05 PDT

My Mother's Day Mural for my momma! She's in the pic too! Happy Mother's Day!

Versailles' Rose Descendant 1

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 12:21:28 PDT

Chapter 1
Kaguya-Hime Montesquieu is the daughter of a French man, and a Japanese woman. Rich, a noble, and highly respected because of her face. She was considered to be the most beautiful girl out of the aristocratic families' daughters. Her father owns a world-wide famous make-up company called Au Revior. Her mother was once a servant in Japan, and was taken to France by her father. Kaguya turned out looking exactly like her mother. She showed no trait of French blood. Since she is mixed blood, at some times, she was teased, and sometimes a murderer tried to kill her for that. Mixed blood was never acceptable. It wasnt even acceptable for her having a dream becoming a famous singer. Her father wants her to inherit the company once shes 18, but she refuses.
Kaguya began to return home from shopping with her butler, Mathew. Until she notices a faint smell of smoke in the air.
Mathew, please stop the carriage. Kaguya commands.
Yes, my lady. The carriage stops moving instantly. She climbs out of the carriage, and see her home was on fire.
What on earth has happened?!?! Kaguya-Hime starts to shake, and get nervous. Her eyes began to fill with tears. Later that day, the fire was put out, her parents died in the fire, and she was forced to live with a relative.
The young girl became full of despair, she loved her parents unconditionally. She became officially poor, and an orphan. Butler Mathew continues to stay at her side. About 4 months later, in October, she was coming back home on the carriage with Butler Mathew, and a group of murderers came to them to attack.
Show me where the money is in this carriage!! one of the gang members demanded.
I wont tell where it is! Even if you hurt me so much, I will never let you know! Kaguya answers.
Will this will get you talking?! He strikes Kaguay-Himea with an empty beer bottle on her left side of her head. It shatters so much, and it causes her head to bleed. She was punched on her right cheek becoming swelled up and bruised. Her arms were cut and bruised. Kaguya struggled to get way with Mathew whos also being beaten, but it was completely pointless. The second gang member pointed a gun at Mathews head, and shoots him.
Mathew!!! Kaguya shouts as he was killed.
Shut up, Montesquieu!!!! He began to stab her stomach multiple times. Kaguya-Hime screamed so much from the pain.
A mixed blood like you should never live. I would love to kidnap you to give pleasure to men like us, as a job. But you don't deserve anything like that. The Gang takes the carriage, tosses her gifts she bought out, and disappears quickly. Kaguya lies there on the ground helpless, and coughing up so much blood. Her vision began to blurry. She forces herself to get up. But she fails to keep balance, and she began to get dizzy. She knew shes dying. Shell be able to reunite with her parents once again, she thought.
Kaguya began moaning and crying from the pain. It was too much for her to bear. She opens her eyes seeing a manly figure walking towards her. She couldnt recall who it is, since everything was a blur to her.
Wwho arey-you? Kaguya struggles to say, and she tends to cough up more blood. The person didnt answer her as her bends down and scoops her up from the ground.
W-ho are y-you? the dying girl tries again.
Im going to save you. the man answers. He comes closer to Kaguyas neck, and sinks his fangs into her skin. More pain was added to the mistress body. She couldnt bare it anymore.
Then suddenly, she felt an icy liquid entering her body. It causes Kaguya to scream, because its making her body ache more. The vampire pulled away from the girls neck.
Im sorry if I turned you into my kind. He retraced his fangs. Then Kaguya-Hime passes out, because of the poison.
He carries the girl to the mansion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first chapter to the story YAY!!!
For the era, it's a mixture of the rococo era in France, the Meiji era in japan, and the 20th century. Around that time, mixed blood was never acceptable. Kamijo and the others are well known in this story.
Backgorund info:[link]
Prolouge: [link]
Chapter 2:[link]
Chapter 3:[link]
Chater 4:[link]

with-accusing-eyes

Thu, 18 Mar 2010 12:47:50 PDT

Original title: All of my heart
Submitted as a competition entry to young photo club [link]
Entry under theme of reflection.

The flowers on the silver sequin heart was a reflection of the curtains. And it wasnt the first place I would go look when I think of reflections and that why I think this piece is good for this theme. The heart is one of 4 hearts (as there is me and 3 siblings ) on my mum's mother's day card which I made myself. And if my mum didn't put it by the window I wouldn't have taken this picture. I hope you like

Home .Tonight

Thu, 16 Mar 2006 05:42:32 PST

_{another one for Jasp3r <3.

photo of my backyard, and the barn i look at when i smoke.

x.

i'll make a soldier's decision to fly away

load my gun

paint my face

call me misery

i can see the sky light up and the ground explode

got my sights locked in, i can see you breathe

then i watched you fall and somebody scream

it's the saddest thing when angels fly away

got a badge for my scars just the other day

wore it proud for the sake of my sanity

i could see the flames burn bright from the winding road

like a haunting page from my history

watched a young girl cry and her mother scream

its the saddest thing when angels fly away

-Cold (song i listened to while editing<3)}

10 Cmd.exe Rev 0.1

Thu, 06 Oct 2011 01:29:25 PDT

Cmd

Starts a new instance of the command interpreter, Cmd.exe. Used without parameters, cmd displays Windows XP version and copyright information.

" And God spoke all these words, saying: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage."

Syntax

cmd [[{/c|/k}] [/s] [/q] [/d] [{/a|/u}] [/t:fg] [/e:{on|off}] [/f:{on|off}] [/v:{on|off}] string]

Parameters:

/1 You shall have no other gods before me.

/2 You shall not make for yourself any carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; you shall not bow down to them nor serve them. For I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generations of those who hate me, but showing mercy to thousands, to those who love Me and keep My commandments.

/3 You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes His name in vain.

/4 Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God. In it you shall do no work: you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your manservant, nor your maidservant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger who is within your gates. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it.

/5 Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you.

/6 You shall not murder.

/7 You shall not commit adultery.

/8 You shall not steal.

/9 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

/10 You shall not covet your neighbors house; you shall not covet your neighbors wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbors.

/c : Carries out the command specified by string and then stops.

/k : Carries out the command specified by string and continues.

/s : Modifies the treatment of string after /c or /k.

/q : Turns the echo off.

/d : Disables execution of AutoRun commands.

/a : Creates American National Standards Institute (ANSI) output.

/u : Creates Unicode output.

/t:fg : Sets the foreground f and background g colors.

Ballons... Question Mark

Mon, 12 Jan 2009 14:07:49 PST

Damn dA for not letting me put a question mark in!
Now then. There is a two percent chance that this is not my image.
Me and my mother were out walking in a forest about two hundred meters away from the airport (Germans are amazing creatures. They manage to fit everything in so perfectly). We were taken off track in the forest, and ended up at one of the busiest railways in Düsseldorf. It was completely abandoned, surrounded by motorways, planes, trains, a railway station from 1930, lots of graffiti; old brick buildings and balloons tied to a signpost. I hurried for my little camera, and to my horror realised that I didn't have it. No, my mother nicked it (greedy cow ), although I wasn't too angry about this, due to the fact that I had broken her's two days ago. So I asked for it back, took the damn photo AT THIS VERY ANGLE(!) and then passed it back to my mother, who then opted for a completely different angle entirely. Now I am sure that this is my photo, however when I loaded it onto the computer, and this was the only one that was in focus, I distinctly heard her roar "THATS MINE, I TOOK THAT ONE!"
shes wrong. I'm sure of it!!!

help me in my quest to pursue democracy, freedom, self-expression through the forms of art, anti-parent-dictatorships, and a whole lot of other random shit to convince the evuuul (yes it must be spelt that way) woman that she cannot steal art! C'est la vie!

back on track:
EDITING PROCESS
-create HDR from three fake exposures,
-tone map
-crop
-applied gradient map to everything except the balloons
-opened the HDR and converted to duotone
-copy paste balloons to duotone image
-lowered saturation of the balloons

And that was probably too much writing!
Got to go to bed now! Nighty Night!!!

Morveren

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 01:45:18 PDT

At the end of a good day, when the sea was calm and each boat had returned with its share of fish safely stowed in the hold, the people of Zennor would go up the path to the old church and give thanks. They would pray for a fine catch on the morrow, too. The choir would sing, and after the closing hymn the families would go

Now, in the choir that sang at Evensong there was a most handsome lad named Mathew Trewella. Not only was Mathew handsome to the eyes, his singing was sweet to the ears as well. His voice pealed out louder than the church bells, and each note rang clear and true. It was always Mathew who sang the closing hymn.

Early one evening, when all the fishing boats bobbed at anchor, and all the fisher families were in church and all the birds at nest, and even the waves rested themselves and came quietly to shore, something moved softly in the twilight. The waves parted without a sound, and, from deep beneath them, some creature rose and climbed out onto a rock, there in the cove of Zennor. It was both a sea creature and a she-creature. For, though it seemed to be a girl, where the girl's legs should have been was the long and silver-shiny tail of a fish. It was a mermaid, one of the daughters of Llyr, king of the ocean, and her name was Morveren.

Morveren sat upon the rock and looked at herself in the quiet water, and then combed all the little crabs and seashells from her long, long hair. As she combed, she listened to the murmur of the waves and wind. And borne on the wind was Mathew's singing.

"What breeze is there that blows such a song?" wondered Morveren. But then the wind died, and Mathew's song with it. The sun disappeared, and Morveren slipped back beneath the water to her home.

The next evening she came again. But not to the rock. This time she swam closer to shore, the better to hear. And once more Mathew's voice carried out to sea, and Morveren listened.

"What bird sings so sweet?" she asked, and she looked all about. But darkness had come, and her eyes saw only shadows.

The next day Morveren came even earlier, and boldly. She floated right up by the fishermen's boats. And when she heard Mathew's voice, she called, "What reed is there that pipes such music?"

There was no answer save the swishing of the water round the skiffs.

Morveren would and must know more about the singing. So she pulled herself up on the shore itself. From there she could see the church and hear the music pouring from its open doors. Nothing would do then but she must peek in and learn for herself who sang so sweetly.

Still, she did not go at once. For, looking behind her, she saw that the tide had begun to ebb and the water pull back from the shore. And she knew that she must go back, too, or be left stranded on the sand like a fish out of water.

So she dived down beneath the waves, down to the dark sea cave where she lived with her father the king. And there she told Llyr what she had heard.

Llyr was so old he appeared to be carved of driftwood, and his hair floated out tangled and green, like seaweed. At Morveren's words, he shook that massive head from side to side.

"To hear is enough, my child. To see is too much."

"I must go, Father," she pleaded, "for the music is magic."

"Nay," he answered. "The music is man-made, and it comes from a man's mouth. We people of the sea do not walk on the land of men."

A tear, larger than an ocean pearl, fell from Morveren's eye. "Then surely I may die from the wanting down here."

Llyr sighed, and his sigh was like the rumbling of giant waves upon the rocks; for a mermaid to cry was a thing unheard of and it troubled the old sea king greatly.

"Go, then," he said at last, "but go with care. Cover your tail with a dress, such as their women wear. Go quietly, and make sure that none shall see you. And return by high tide, or you may not return at all."

"I shall take care, Father!" cried Morveren, excited. "No one shall snare me like a herring!"

Llyr gave her a beautiful dress crusted with pearls and sea jade and coral and other ocean jewels. It covered her tail, and she covered her shining hair with a net, and so disguised she set out for the church and the land of men.

Slippery scales and fish's tail are not made for walking, and it was difficult for Morveren to get up the path to the church. Nor was she used to the dress of an earth woman dragging behind. But get there she did, pulling herself forward by grasping on the trees, until she was at the very door of the church. She was just in time for the closing hymn. Some folks were looking down at their hymnbooks and some up at the choir, so, since none had eyes in the backs of their heads, they did not see Morveren. But she saw them, and Mathew as well. He was as handsome as an angel, and when he sang it was like a harp from heaven -- although Morveren, of course, being a mermaid, knew nothing of either.

So each night thereafter, Morveren would dress and come up to the church, to look and to listen, staying but a few minutes and always leaving before the last note faded and in time to catch the swell of high tide. And night by night, month by month, Mathew grew taller and his voice grew deeper and stronger (though Morveren neither grew nor changed, for that is the way of mermaids). And so it went for most of a year, until the evening when Morveren lingered longer than usual. She had heard Mathew sing one verse, and then another, and begin a third. Each refrain was lovelier than the one before, and Morveren caught her breath in a sigh.

It was just a little sigh, softer than the whisper of a wave. But it was enough for Mathew to hear, and he looked to the back of the church and saw the mermaid. Morveren's eyes were shining, and the net had slipped from her head and her hair was wet and gleaming, too. Mathew stopped his singing. He was struck silent by the look of her -- and by his love for her. For these things will happen.
Morveren was frightened. Mathew had seen her, and her father had warned that none must look at her. Besides, the church was warm and dry, and merpeople must be cool and wet. Morveren felt herself shriveling, and turned in haste from the door.

"Stop!" cried Mathew boldly. "Wait!" And he ran down the aisle of the church and out the door after her.
Then all the people turned, startled, and their hymn-books fell from their laps.
Morveren tripped, tangled in her dress, and would have fallen had not Mathew reached her side and caught her.

"Stay!" he begged. "Whoever ye be, do not leave!"

Tears, real tears, as salty as the sea itself, rolled down Morveren's cheeks.

"I cannot stay. I am a sea creature, and must go back where I belong."

Mathew stared at her and saw the tip of her fish tail poking out from beneath the dress. But that mattered not at all to him.

"Then I will go with ye. For with ye is where I belong."

He picked Morveren up, and she threw her arms about his neck. He hurried down the path with her, toward the ocean's edge.

And all the people from the church saw this.

"Mathew, stop!" they shouted. "Hold back!"

"No! No, Mathew!" cried that boy's mother.

But Mathew was bewitched with love for the mermaid, and ran the faster with her toward the sea.
Then the fishermen of Zennor gave chase, and all others, too, even Mathew's mother. But Mathew was quick and strong and outdistanced them. And Morveren was quick and clever. She tore the pearls and coral from her dress and flung them on the path. The fishermen were greedy, even as men are now, and stopped in their chase to pick up the gems. Only Mathew's mother still ran after them.
The tide was going out. Great rocks thrust up from the dark water. Already it was too shallow for Morveren to swim. But Mathew plunged ahead into the water, stumbling in to his knees. Quickly his mother caught hold of his fisherman's jersey. Still Mathew pushed on, until the sea rose to his waist, and then his shoulders. Then the waters closed over Morveren and Mathew, and his mother was left with only a bit of yarn in her hand, like a fishing line with nothing on it.
Never again were Mathew and Morveren seen by the people of Zennor. They had gone to live in the land of Llyr, in golden sand castles built far below the waters in a blue-green world.
But the people of Zennor heard Mathew. For he sang to Morveren both day and night, love songs and lullabies. Nor did he sing for her ears only. Mathew learned songs that told of the sea as well. His voice rose up soft and high if the day was to be fair, deep and low if Llyr was going to make the waters boil. From his songs, the fishermen of Zennor knew when it was safe to put to sea, and when it was wise to anchor snug at home.
There are some still who find meanings in the voices of the waves and understand the whispers of the winds. These are the ones who say Mathew sings yet, to them that will listen.

The Mermaid of Zennor, A Cornish Tale

p.s. This is a small doll caught under a jellyfish

E i g h t y f i v e

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 15:34:10 PST

_{I was reading an old abstract art my dad gave me 57348573 years ago.

Today I was supposed to have a Hallmark day where friends and I were going to sit around and make cookies (I wasn't going near the cookies. I cant cook at all)/holiday stuff and watch movies but I had to make out stupid holiday cards and develop the pictures for the cards.
Today the "blizzard" began.
Today my mother found a Diva Star electronic doll and showed it to our dog. It talked. He went mad

Today I was given a premium membership by the awesome/fabulous/Mother Teresa-esque . Thankyouthankyouthankyou!

I'm going to go watch Mean Girls.}

Love overfilled

Sat, 08 May 2010 23:08:02 PDT

Great chance at mother's day to have an extra heart picture.

sad story

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 12:46:59 PST

for Jay Rennee & ~ChristofLehmann
and their sad story..

there is always something deathless.

their story, shortly, from ChristofLehmann;

"She was only 20 when she died. We were waiting for each other for some years because she was too young.
She came from a poor family in the USA / Arizona. Her mother committed suicide when she was a little girl. Mother had cancer and was in too much pain to live.(Been a happy girl - the song describes it in her words) She was like a mother for her little sister and baby brother.
At age 13 she ran away from home. Got together with a man (boy) who made her addicted to heroin. Became pregnant age 16 and in the 6th month her boyfriend decided he did not want to be a father. He stabbed her with a knife, kicked her and beat her til she was unconscious. next day she woke up. Blood everywhere and the baby was gone.
She came on a holiday to Copenhagen not long after and fell in love with me. I said "Jay I am too old and you are too young" She said, I will wait for you until I am old enough. I got her into drug therapy and we visited each other much. She went into the army because they promised her to pay for her university.
When they told us that she would be sent to Iraq we decided that it was time to have a baby and live together because
a) we really wanted a child
b) she could get out of the army.
We were so happy when we finally succeeded in becoming pregnant.

she got out of the army and I helped her to get a place at the university in Los Angeles. the meaning was, that she would come to Denmark as exchange student and we would get married. We were looking forward to a really happy life together.

One evening, short before she would have come to Denmark she was raped and beaten very very badly.

She came to the hospital and had an operation, she was ok but they sent her home and she got a bad fever. I went to Los Angeles, but when I came she was very very weak. I brought her to the hospital again but it was to late to save her.

She had such a hard life. Poor girl. What makes me happy is, that I know she was happy and learned how it feels when someone really loves you, and cares about you. I miss her, I miss her so much, but I know she has peace and is happy now. "

Happy 4:20 2006

Thu, 20 Apr 2006 08:35:05 PDT

Happy 4/20 2006, people!!

I've been waiting to submit this one and well I guess today is appropriate.
Today's a day to appreciate the gift of marijuana given to us by our Mother Earth, let's show her we know how to put it to some use!
Remember, if you can't light up all day of 4/20, make sure you light up at least at 4:20pm!

Enjoy!

Happy Mothers Day

Sun, 11 May 2008 04:12:02 PDT

Mothers Day card
Thanks to all the mums out there!

OsbySjon IV

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 13:31:34 PDT

Borrowing my grandpas car this weekend.
Was going my mothers apartment for some dinner after work today.
Swung by the same lake I added pics from a couple of days ago. The weater was a bit better and the sun did play piikaboo with the clouds from time to time..

Have a great weekend folks!
Cheers
::C

Medusa's Blood

Sun, 11 Apr 2010 03:17:51 PDT

...Pegasus was a beautiful, winged horse. He sprung from Medusa's blood when her head was chopped off by Perseus. Without a mother, Pegasus roamed free and wild.

While Pegasus was drinking from a well, Bellerophon managed to slip a golden bridle over him and capture the horse. The golden bridle had been a gift from the goddess Athena. Bellerophon tamed Pegasus and used the horse during his adventures.

Bellerophon made the foolish decision to try and fly Pegasus to Mount Olympus - heaven, according Greek mythology. Zeus quickly put a stop to this by throwing him from Pegasus. The hero survived the fall, but he was crippled. As for Pegasus, he made it into heaven where he spent his days carrying lightning bolts for Zeus. When the stars are out, you might be able to see the Pegasus' constellation, which was named after him...

Day 337.

Sat, 28 Aug 2010 20:31:36 PDT

what is this, i don't even

Today I rearranged everything in my closet looking for the charger, and after about two hours I found it in a desk drawer that was being covered by a vinyl sheet -_____-
Today my street had its block party, so we went to visit my mother's friend
Today I had flan :3

i'm so tired fjewioafjzdsi. goodnight

Vintage

Thu, 22 Mar 2012 12:58:00 PDT

Ive been designing worlds for as long as I can remember. But before I ever started that, there were the surgeries.
----Since the day I was born, my life has been centered on prescription drugs and hospital trips. Much to my parents distress, their first child was diagnosed early-on with a serious heart problem. The first critical procedure temporarily corrected my heart, but since the age of two years old I have consciously lived with all the limitations this condition has caused me. There were days I hated taking pills, and times that I felt ashamed of having something so strange as a giant keloid scar on my body. I couldnt swim or wear a regular bathing suit without feeling ugly. I refused to wear normal cut shirts because they let my scar show. I wasnt able to participate in soccer or volleyball because it frightened everybody to let me play. I felt wronged for a long time. I felt robbed of myself.
------As I quietly struggled with this, God graced me with realization after realization. I had an understanding mother and a loving father. They repeatedly discouraged my worries and they respected my conservative clothing. They taught my siblings to treat me as if there was nothing wrong. Most of all they supported my drawings. No matter how bleak the times at the hospital were, they would always pack me up a small meal and a little bag full of printer paper and colored pencils. I escaped my situation, or addressed it, on those blank pages. Drawing became a natural outlet, and I found that even after I had left the emergency rooms, I could still create worlds. I began cartooning my joys, frustrations, fears and celebrations on a page. Since then Ive never stopped. Now I find that I am able to better connect with people around me. Not only that, but by venting my feelings fluidly and painlessly I found a strong constructive therapy for myself. ---So, When it came time to design a surreal self portrait, I then embraced my heart. I embraced it not as a symbol of isolation and pain, but a testimony of who I am, and how my heart has shaped me. Though I always have been (and still am) quiet on the subject, I've had my friends and family to lean on and I could never thank them enough for it.
I have so many inspirations and ideas sprouting from this single creative spring, and Im glad I have the drive and means to pursue them.

Rose Mattered

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 20:26:11 PDT

no one believes

In the effects of nature and the illusion of image,
she paints with a gathering of memories and an arsenal of time,
painting under the influence of all that and more

truth be told,she cleaned her brushes and stood
and stared at what she had done

they polished the marble floor
square by square
to the finish of mother of pearl,
shined reflections shoot into my eyes
as I pass through the corridor
to the last door of retreat,
the trial began this morning
at the courthouse in Fargo
along the Red River
overflowed at the brink
in the days of resson
no one believes,
I was called as a defense witness
truth was never new to me,
what I would say to today
was anyone's guess

..:Mother:..

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 16:30:08 PST

English:

I'm not having the words to say how I feel, I'm not that great intelligence is to show you what you taught me, I'm not even what you planned a daughter .... but rather if I can do .... if I can not speak ... I can express what I feel for you in just a simple drawing that anyone could see no value as they have done before ... I'm not what you expected ... and I have no right to say if I'm better than that or not .... happy birthday ... Mom ..

Spanish:

No soy de las que tenga palabras para decir como me siento, no soy de las que tiene gran inteligencia para demostrarte lo que me has enseñado, ni siquiera soy lo que planeaste de una hija.... pero algo si se que puedo hacer.... si no puedo hablar... puedo expresar lo que siento por ti en tan solo un simple dibujo que cualquiera pudiese ver sin valor alguno como lo han hecho antes... no soy lo que esperaste... y no tengo derecho de decir si soy mejor que eso o no.... feliz cumpleaños... mamá..

Dear Wear a Foolish Clown Face

Wed, 10 Aug 2011 23:47:18 PDT

O, I am not, as others are,
Child of the angels, with a wreath
Of planets or of any star.
My father's dead, and lies beneath
The churchyard stone: God rest his breath!
I know that my poor old mother
(And she too knows) must come to death,
And that her son must follow her.

I know that rich and poor and all,
Foolish and wise, and priest and lay,
Mean folk and noble, great and small,
High and low, fair and foul, and they
That wore rich clothing on the way,
Being of whatever stock or stem,
And are coiffed newly every day,
Death shall take every one of them.

by: François Villon (1431-14**)

Most of what is known about François Villon has been gathered from legal records and gleaned from his own writings. Villon was born to a young, poor French couple in 1431. His father died when he was a small boy, and he and his mother were left in a poverty made worse as Paris suffered through English occupation, civil war, and famine.
On June 5, 1455, Villon was arrested for killing the priest Philippe Sermoise in a bar brawl in Paris. On his deathbed, however, the priest publicly forgave Villon, who had fled the city. The young poet was royally pardoned.
Early in 1456, Villon returned to his home in Paris. In December, he wrote Le Lais, also known as Le Petit Testament, one of Villons most important works. Villon claimed to have finished the poem at Christmas, while at the same time he met up with a number of acquaintances and later stole 500 gold crowns from a coffer at the College of Navarre, where the community kept their funds. In Le Lais, Villon shows himself composing the poem during the same hours he was orchestrating the robbery.
In 1461, after being once again imprisoned for a minor crime and then pardoned by the newly crowned King Charles VII, Villon composed what is considered his masterpiece, Le Testament. The over two thousand verses are propelled by the immediate possibility of a death sentence for Villon by hanging and balance the extremes of anger and religious fervor.
In 1462 he was once again arrested for brawling; this time he was sentenced to the gallows. While awaiting his death sentence, Villon composed "Ballad of Hanged Men" and "I Am Francois, They Have Caught Me." A last minute appeal to Parliament reduced his sentence to ten years banishment from Paris on January 5, 1463. At the time, Villon was only 34-years-old. He left the city and was never heard from again.

an etherial moment.

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 15:08:20 PDT

Another treasure from the day ~eikcaj29 came to visit. I think the sunshine makes me look like some sort of creature that does not belong here, even though I blend perfectly.
I feel this way often lately.
I am experiencing the subject of 'reverse discrimination' for the first time in my life. I do not know why it is coined this way. Discrimination is discrimination to me. I have always been labeled as short. Sometimes I have chosen temporary occupations where people question my skills...such as lifting century-old risers in Boston's symphony hall...or the ability to assemble chairs, lift amplifiers etc. This discrimination I can handle. People do not know my capabilities. They are not aware of my ability to travel via public transportation by myself with two massive instruments plus my books for class.

Regardless...what I cannot handle....Is walking down the street and being referred to as a 'little white bitch' by some random woman whose skin color I could not recall. argh.
Just to add evidence to my case:
[link]

I am in a place where I am the minority. It sucks. My creativity does not belong here, my intelligence is not challenged here, my personality does not belong here, and my appearance does not belong here.
In fact...it is publicly know that this place is generally unfriendly and unaccepting.
I am stuck illuminated in this ray of sunshine.
How can I adapt?
Is there need to adapt?
Where are people like me hiding in this 'city of brotherly love?' When all I can see is hate and anger. People at the shelter I am volunteering at are resisting my efforts to help. Is this a sign for me to back off...or to press forward. I came here with the intention of expanding...but I am shrinking...
My mind is becoming internal
My self perception has diminished
My emotions uncontrollable.

In the words of the great stevie wonder...now that I have found my "place in the sun" how do I gravitate back towards the earth?

I feel so unrealistic. Everything that should be going well is turning to dust from an emotional perspective. I am learning more...but cannot apply it. I am losing weight...but feel worse about my appearance. I have an amazing boyfriend...but no time to share with him.

Argh.

I am a bright f***ing ray of sunshine that is stuck inside the walls of some cold abandoned building.
Goodness.

Sorry for the rant...this image inspired it. I love the image...but I think my expression here speaks volumes to my current state of being.

Amazing photo by =JackSilver

:edit:
Crown created by hand from me.
Dress created by hand from an artist from somewhere in the Himalayan Mts.
Flowers and sunshine courtesy of mother nature.

Remembering

Thu, 11 Oct 2012 09:27:28 PDT

Celebrating Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead).....

Behind a closed curtain a mother remembers her lost son.....

M310 :: Remains of what was

Sun, 07 Nov 2010 15:09:37 PST

Taken November 6th, 2010.

So, I gave up on fireworks this year. I have a few posted on my Facebook, along with some less than exciting fire-dancing/eating photos, but this one was the most pleasing.
I was watching a mother and her 2 young girls dancing with some flashing light kinda things, and I just had to try a long exposure on what I was seeing.
And so here's the result. Sadly, I only have the one photo like this, it was too impolite to keep the camera trained on them any longer. British people are getting more and more suspicious of strangers with cameras these days.

Mother and Child Smoke Art

Wed, 15 May 2013 03:23:02 PDT

Did a little smokey art the other day, this one really stood out.
I call it "Mother and Child"

the sanctity of distance

Sat, 26 Jan 2013 20:30:59 PST

My father was a rocket man
He often went to Jupiter or Mercury, to Venus or to Mars
My mother and I would watch the sky
And wonder if a falling star
Was a ship becoming ashes with a rocket man inside

My mother and I
Never went out
Unless the sky was cloudy or the sun was blotted out
Or to escape the pain
We only went out when it rained

My father was a rocket man
He loved the world beyond the world, the sky beyond the sky
And on my mother's face, as lonely as the world in space
I could read the silent cry
That if my father fell into a star
We must not look upon that star again

Tears are often jewel-like
My mother's went unnoticed by my father, for his jewels were the stars
And in my father's eyes I knew he had to find
In the sanctity of distance something brighter than a star
One day they told us the sun had flared and taken him inside

My mother and I
Never went out
Unless the sky was cloudy or the sun was blotted out
Or to escape the pain
We only went out when it rained

~ Tom Rapp

And Then There Were Two

Wed, 03 Nov 2010 06:39:11 PDT

"You survived another winter, you survived where nothing grew. The Days felt cold and never changing, so you slept the whole way through. When you think about the future, its like the past but hard and small. An Old idea you stole from someone, a borrowed dream that's born to fall."
"Truenorth" by No-Man
______________________________________________

When it comes to shooting macro shots, my usual subjects are not easily recognizable, which means i usually don't shoot flowers and veggies however when i looked at these two lovers, or father and son, mother and child whatever you wanna imagine it made me think of this song by No-Man called Truenorth. It made me wonder what it would be like to be the last two tomatoes at the edge of winter, while every other tomato around you is shriveled and frozen to decay.

Anyway, i've been pretty good with taking photographs regularly, however getting the time to look through the mass archive and find the ones that truly belong in my gallery is a whole another challenge that is hard to over come when im fully on focused with school, so be patient if you don't receive your daily dosage, and i will try my best to give it to you hehe.

P.s. I just feel like eating a lot of fucking food and hibernating.

True beauty is within

Sat, 09 Jul 2011 15:37:46 PDT

This is one of my mom's mother day flowers, that I took.

Mother natures Diamonds

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 21:50:09 PST

My sister and i decided to walk around our land and the desert early this morning. and on our way back we decided to have breakfast at my grandmother's, it had been raining the day before, so there were rain/dew drops EVERYWHERE. Including on my grama's car 8Dwhich is where i took this pic.

i tweaked it a bit with the bluring, added a hint of bluein the focused part. and i added the lens glare thing.

man in the glass

Thu, 13 Dec 2012 16:42:13 PST

The Man In The Glass

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in you life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think you're a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please-never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear to the end.
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

~ Peter "Dale" Winbrow Sr

Mothers Day of 79

Sun, 10 May 2009 05:58:21 PDT

Taken today on mothers day! But I shot it with a very high ISO and in sepia mode on my D300 to make it very grainy to get the oldish feeling. And thats why I named it Mothers Day of 79

Mothers Day Present

Sun, 13 May 2012 11:15:39 PDT

There is your present, Mother.

That's all I have to say.

Have a nice day.

I will burn this and enjoy it. c:

Becoming one with Nature

Fri, 31 Aug 2012 14:51:07 PDT

Very surreal idea of showing the process of connecting with Nature

The model (me ) in black and white in order to reveal the human unimportance toward our surroundings, made by mother nature.

Background: [link]

Brush: [link]

Sins of the Mother

Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:55:16 PDT

Mother likes knives. She uses them to split open my flesh and watch crimson rivers gush.

[link]

When three "Aurora Ancient" entities investigate the human world they quickly realize the dangers, love and challenges mortals face on a day to day basis.

The Shocking Truth about Christmas

Sun, 25 Dec 2011 16:50:09 PST

Where did Christmas come from? What is it's origin?

Christmas trees, mistletoes, holly wreaths, lights on houses, exchanging gifts on December 25th. Where did these customs come from?

Did you know Santa Claus and the Christmas tree are mentioned in the Bible? What did God have to say about them?

Many are concerned about putting "Christ back into Christmas". Was he ever there?

Most people never think about or investigate why they believe and practice what they do.
In a world filled with customs and traditions, few seek to understand or research the origin of things.
Most accept common practices without question, choosing to do what everyone else does because it is easy and fashionable.

In this study, we will look at the origin of the popular holiday Christmas, and what the Bible says about it.

"All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness" - 2 Timothy 3:16

Take this verse for exactly what it says. All scriptures teach you the correct doctrines to follow. They also "reprove" and "correct" any error, and instruct you about what is righteous.

So even if you believe the doctrines you follow are honoring Christ, you must be willing to "reprove" them with the Bible.
If the Bible does not reprove them, but rather teaches against them, you must accept "correction" and allow the scriptures to "instruct" you.

This verse answers the age old question, what is the purpose of the Bible? The Bible is for doctrines, reproof, correction and instruction.

God has a certain way he likes to be worshiped: "God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." - John 4:24
He also has his own doctrines he wants us to follow.

In fact, if you attempt to worship him through the doctrines created by men, you take a chance of worshiping him in vain!

"Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men." - Mark 7:7

Let's examine Christmas, the worldwide tradition that is thought by most to be a wonderful time, focusing the participants on giving, family togetherness, beautiful music and decorations, feasting on special foods and singing Christmas carols throughout the neighborhood.
All this is supposedly centered around the worship of Jesus Christ and his birth on December 25th.

But where did all these traditions come from?

The Encyclopedia Americana reveals:
"Christmas was not observed in the first centuries of the Christian church, since the Christian usage in general was to celebrate the death of remarkable persons rather that their birth.
A feast was established in memory of this event (the birth of Christ) in the fourth century.
In the fifth century the Western church ordered the feast to be celebrated on the day of the Mithraic rites of the birth of the sun, and at the close of the Saturnalia (festival used to worship the pagan god Saturnus), as no certain knowledge of the day of Christ's birth existed."

Now a passage from the Encyclopaedia Britannica:
"In the Roman world the Saturnalia (December 17th) was a time of merrymaking and exchanging of gifts. December 25th was also regarded as the birth date of the Iranian mystery god Mithra, the Sun of Righteousness.
On the Roman New Year (January 1st), houses were decorated with greenery and lights, and gifts were given to children and the poor. To these observances were added the German and Celtic Yule rites, when the Teutonic tribes penetrated into Gaul, Britian, and central Europe.
Food and good fellowship, the Yule log and Yule cakes, greenery and fir trees, gifts and greetings all commemorated different aspects of this festive season. Fires and lights, symbols of warmth and lasting life have always been associated with the winter festival, both pagan and Christian."

History reveals that Christmas comes from the old pagan winter festival known as the Saturnalia.
The Saturnalia was a rowdy time that took place between December 17th-25th in Rome. During this weeklong celebration, no citizen could be punished for damaging property or harming others.
At the end of the celebration, an innocent citizen was brutally murdered by the Roman authorities, because they believed such an act would destroy the dark forces of the world.

The ancient Greek writer and historian Lucian wrote about the Saturnalia and described the following customs:
"Human sacrifice; rape and other sexual license; widespread intoxication; going from house to house while singing (caroling) naked; and eating human-shaped biscuits."

What about holly wreaths and mistletoes? What are their origins? Why are they associated with Christmas?

The Encyclopedia Britannica exposes the origin of the holly wreath:
European pagans brought holly sprays into their homes, offering them to the fairy people of the forests as refuge from the harsh winter weather. During the Saturnalia, the Roman winter festival, branches of holly were exchanged as tokens of friendship."

All hollies come in male and female varietiessuch as Blue Prince and Blue Princess or Blue Boy and Blue Girl or China Boy and China Girl. Female holly plants cannot have berries unless a nearby male plant pollinates them.
It is easy to see why the holly wreath found it's way into pagan rituals as a token of friendship and "fertility"!

The holiday tradition of kissing under the mistletoe also comes from the Saturnalia celebration, involving many drunken sex orgies which took place underneath them. The Romans believed the mistletoe had special healing powers for those who reveled under it.

Here is what the free online Encyclopedia Wikipedia says about the mistletoe:
"In cultures across pre-Christian Europe, mistletoe was seen as a representation of divine male essence (and thus romance, fertility and vitality), possibly due to a resemblance between the berries and semen.
When Christianity became widespread in Europe after the 3rd century AD, the religious or mystical respect for the mistletoe plant was integrated to an extent into the new religion. In some way that is not presently understood, this may have led to the widespread custom of kissing under the mistletoe plant during the Christmas season.
The earliest documented case of kissing under the mistletoe dates from 16th century England, a custom that was apparently very popular at that time. This custom was later integrated into Christmas with the story of St. Nicholas meeting his true love under a mistletoe."

History reveals that the holiday traditions of both the holly wreath and mistletoe originated from paganism and sexual perversion.

The Saturnalia celebrated the fire god Saturn, in which the planet Saturn would later become named after.

Virtually every civilization has a fire/sun god. The Egyptians called him Vulcan. The Greeks named him Kronos.
The Babylonians called him Tammuz, Molech, or Baal. These were all simply the various names for Nimrod, the infamous biblical rebel of Genesis chapter 10.
Nimrod was considered the father of all the Babylonian gods.

Notice this horrible practice associated with the worship of the fire god (Nimrod, Saturn, Kronos, Molech and Baal) in the following quote from "The Two Babylons" by Alexander Hislop:

Now, this is in exact accordance with the character of the Great Head of the system of fire-worship. Nimrod, as the representative of the devouring fire to which human victims, and especially children, were offered in sacrifice, was regarded as the great child-devourer.
He was, of course, the actual father of all the Babylonian gods; and, therefore, in that character he was afterwards universally regarded. As the Father of the gods, he was, as we have seen, called Kronos; and every one knows that the classical story of Kronos was just this, that, he devoured his sons as soon as they were born.
This legend has a further and deeper meaning; but, as applied to Nimrod, or The Horned One, it just refers to the fact, that, as the representative of Moloch or Baal, infants were the most acceptable offerings at his altar. We have ample and melancholy evidence on this subject from the records of antiquity.
The Phoenicians, says Eusebius, every year sacrificed their beloved and only-begotten children to Kronos or Saturn."

The pagans who served these gods actually sacrificed their own children to them.
Many children were burned in honor of Molech, in which God commanded strongly against:

"And they built the high places of Baal, which are in the valley of the son of Hinnom, to cause their sons and their daughters to pass through the fire unto Molech; which I commanded them not, neither came it into my mind, that they should do this abomination" - Jeremiah 32:35

Ironically enough, most all aspects of Christmas are focused around children and teaching them about Santa Claus.
Although children are not still being burned like in the days of Molech, telling your children lies can also burn them like a hot iron:

"Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron" - 2 Timothy 4:2

So far, we have learned virtually all Christmas traditions originated from pagan customs.
However, does it matter? Even though these old customs were used to serve the pagan gods, can these same customs be used today to honor Christ?

"Take heed to thyself that thou be not snared by following them, after that they be destroyed from before thee; and that thou enquire not after their gods, saying, How did these nations serve their gods? even so will I do likewise.
Thou shalt not do so unto the LORD thy God: for every abomination to the LORD, which he hateth, have they done unto their gods; for even their sons and their daughters they have burnt in the fire to their gods." - Deuteronomy 12:30-31

In the above verse, God makes it very clear not to observe how others honor their gods, and then attempt to serve Him in the same manner.
He clearly states that every aspect of how they serve their gods, He hates and calls an abomination!

So now the question is, if God hates all these pagan customs, why use them to honor Him?
If I hated the color pink, would you paint my house pink in honor of me?

Also notice in the above verses, he mentions how "their sons and their daughters they have burnt in the fire to their gods".
God clearly understands it is always the children who suffer because of false doctrines and practices.

Then God concludes the chapter by adding this:

"What thing soever I command you, observe to do it: thou shalt not add thereto, nor diminish from it." - Deuteronomy 12:32

In other words, do exactly what God commands, nothing more, nothing less.

A fascinating verse from the book of Second Kings reveals this:

"They feared the LORD, and served their own gods, after the manner of the nations whom they carried away from thence." - 2 Kings 17:33

Did you catch that? They feared the true God, while serving other gods after the manner of other nations.

Verse 30 mentions that all this had been learned from contact with the men of Babylon.
Nimrod, who we read about earlier, was the god of Babylon:

"Nimrod the mighty hunter before the LORD. And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel (Babylon)" - Genesis 10:9-10

For most, no Christmas is complete without putting up a Christmas tree and decorating it.

The Christmas tree originated in Germany. However, the Germans got it from the Romans, who got it from the Babylonians and the Egyptians.

The following quote demonstrates what the Babylonians believe about the origin of the Christmas tree:
An old Babylonish fable told of an evergreen tree which sprang out of a dead tree stump. The old stump symbolized the dead Nimrod, the new evergreen tree symbolized that Nimrod had come to life again in Tammuz.
Among the Druids the oak was sacred, among the Egyptians it was the palm, and in Rome it was the fir, which was decorated with red berries during the Saturnalia. (Walsh, Curiosities of Popular Customs, p. 242).

Frederick J. Haskins book Answers to Questions states, The Christmas tree is from Egypt, and its origin dates from a period long anterior to the Christian Era.

Many are unaware this same custom of the modern-day Christmas tree is mentioned in the Bible:

"Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them.
For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe.
They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.
They are upright as the palm tree, but speak not: they must needs be borne, because they cannot go. Be not afraid of them; for they cannot do evil, neither also is it in them to do good." - Jeremiah 10:2-5

God plainly states that cutting down a tree and decking it with silver and gold is "vain" and "the way of the heathen."

What if we put aside all the pagan customs such as trees, holly wreaths, mistletoes, etc. and only focused on celebrating the birth of Christ?
Would this be acceptable to God?

As we learned earlier, December 25th was certainly not the birth date of Christ, but rather the sun god Mithra.
Nowhere in the Bible can you find the exact date of Christ's birth. However, God does tell us the exact month and day when Christ died:

"In the fourteenth day of the first month at even is the LORD's passover." - Leviticus 23:5

"Ye know that after two days is the feast of the passover, and the Son of man is betrayed to be crucified." - Matthew 26:2

"Then led they Jesus from Caiaphas unto the hall of judgment: and it was early; and they themselves went not into the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover." - John 18:28

Christ was no doubt put to death on the passover, which was the 14th day of the first month.
God tells us when Christ died, but not when he was born. This makes sense, because the Bible claims a man's death is more special than his birth:

"A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth." - Ecclesiastes 7:1

In fact, God actually commands his people to observe the death of Christ:

"In the fourteenth day of this month, at even, ye shall keep it in his appointed season: according to all the rites of it, and according to all the ceremonies thereof, shall ye keep it.
And Moses spake unto the children of Israel, that they should keep the passover." - Numbers 9:3-4

We are instructed to observe the death of Christ, but nowhere in the Bible can you find examples of how we should obverse the birth dates of men.

In the 1911 edition of the Catholic Encyclopedia, an early Catholic writer admitted this:
"In the Scriptures, no one is recorded to have kept a feast or held a great banquet on his birthday. It is only sinners (like Pharaoh and Herod) who make great rejoicings over the day on which they were born into this world."

Also, the early century churches never celebrated birthdays, because they understood the pagan origin of doing so:
"The early Christians did not celebrate Christ's birth because they considered the celebration of anyone's birth to be a pagan custom." - Wikipedia the free online Encyclopedia, under Birthday

If birthday celebrations are un-scriptural, then what about the wise men who brought gifts to baby Jesus?
Was this not celebrating the birth of Christ?

The gifts the wise men gave to Christ is described in the book of Matthew:

"Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem.
And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh." - Matthew 2:1 and 11

A long-standing, ancient custom of the East was to present gifts when one came into the presence of a king.
These men understood that they were in the presence of the King of the Jews.

Also, notice in the above verses that Jesus is described as a "young child" rather than a baby or babe.
Furthermore, most Bible scholars suggest it took the wise men at least one or two years to travel from the east to find him.
So clearly these could not have been birthday gifts.

As we learned earlier from the Encyclopaedia Britannica, "gifts...have always been associated with the winter festival".
So the tradition of exchanging gifts on December 25th comes from the pagan winter festival and has nothing to do with the wise men giving gifts to Christ.

For the final part of our study, let's examine the roots of Santa Claus and some shocking Bible prophecy from the book of Revelation that ties in.

The name Santa Claus comes from "Saint Nicholas" who was a Roman Catholic bishop from the fourth century.
(ironically, many people call Santa "Jolly old Saint Nick", unaware that "Old Nick" has long been recognized as a term for the devil.)

However, the myth of Santa Claus who rides around in a magic sleigh comes from the pagan god Thor:

"Thor was the god represented as an elderly man, jovial and friendly, of heavy build, with a long white beard. His element was the fire, his color red.
He drove in a chariot drawn by two white goats called Cracker and Gnasher. He became the Yule-god and was said to live in the "Northland" where he had his palace among icebergs.
According to our pagan forefathers he was considered as the cheerful and friendly god. The fireplace in every home was especially sacred to him, and he was said to come down through the chimney into his element, the fire." - Myths of Northern Lands, H.A. Grueber, 1895

Nimrod, being the father of all pagan gods, is actually one in the same as Thor:

"Santa was a common name for Nimrod throughout Asia Minor.
This was also the same fire god who came down the chimneys of the ancient pagans." - Langer's Encyclopedia of World History

Nimrod is described in the Bible as "the mighty hunter":

"And Cush begat Nimrod: he began to be a mighty one in the earth.
He was a mighty hunter before the LORD: wherefore it is said, Even as Nimrod the mighty hunter before the LORD." - Genesis 10:8-9

In the book of Revelation, Christ mentions twice that he hates the doctrine of the Nicolaitanes. (Revelation 2:6 and 2:15)
The word Nicolaitane means "follower of Nicholas". It originates from the Greek words, nikos and laos.
Nikos means "conqueror" and laos means "people".

Therefor, followers of Nicholas are "people who follow the conqueror".

We have just learned that Santa actually means Nimrod, who is the mighty hunter.

We also learned that Nicholas means conqueror.

When placed together, "Santa Nicholas" literally means "the mighty hunter who is a conqueror".

In the book of Revelation, there are four horsemen who are prophesied to be unleashed upon the earth.
Notice the description of the first horseman:

"And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer." - Revelation 6:2

Notice how the rider of this horse has a "bow".
Recall that Nimrod is a hunter.

Also, this rider went forth "conquering, and to conquer".
Remember that Nicholas is a conqueror.

The connection is clear, but what does this mean exactly?

When Jesus Christ returns, he too will be riding a white horse:

"And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war.
His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he himself.
And he was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood: and his name is called The Word of God.
And the armies which were in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean.
And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God.
And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS." - Revelation 19:11-16

Both Christ and the first rider are on white horses.
However, the first rider has a bow, and Christ has a sword.
The first rider has a crown, but Christ will have many crowns.

The rider appears to be Christ, but he is not Christ.
Just as Christmas appears to represent Christ, but in fact does not!

This first horseman of Revelation represents false Christianity.
We know this because the Bible interprets this in the book of Matthew, when the disciples asked Jesus what the signs of his return would be:

"Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many." - Matthew 24:4-5

Then in the chapter he goes on to mention the other three horses-wars and rumors of wars (red horse), famines (black horse) and pestilences (pale horse).

The Bible gives a warning about false Christianity:

"For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him." - 2 Corinthians 11:4

It says if anyone preaches "another spirit" not taught in the Bible.
For example, the Christmas spirit!

With such deception, and with Nimrod being the god of Babylon, the book of Revelation warns that in the last days his people would be called out from Babylon:

"And he cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird.
For all nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath of her fornication, and the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her, and the merchants of the earth are waxed rich through the abundance of her delicacies.
And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues." - Revelation 18:2-4

Also, did you notice how "the merchants of the earth are waxed rich through the abundance of her delicacies"?
This would explain the millions of dollars made each year from all the Christmas commercialism.

Consider this, could anything that Christ be in ever be as popular and accepted on such a huge worldwide scale such as Christmas?

"If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you.
If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you." - John 15:18-19

If something is of Christ, it is hated by the world.
However, Christmas is the world's favorite time of year!

In conclusion to this study, let's end with some powerful words from our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ:

"This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.
Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.
For laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and cups: and many other such like things ye do.
And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition." - Mark 7:6-9

Ripples of Dark and Light

Tue, 31 Jul 2012 21:28:00 PDT

This is my mother's bowl that is under our coffee table. One day the light was hitting the bowl so beautifully, I had to capture it~

Photo belongs to me.

In the Bowl

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 20:42:57 PST

Another negative taken with my cell phone. Our beta fish Zeus was swimming around (I gave Zeus to my mom for mother's day some years ago) and i decided to just see what would happen. I really liked that colors

comments. favorites. etc.
cause it makes me happy
Tartuffle

tangerine

Mon, 11 May 2009 20:33:35 PDT

spring, light and shadows

turquoise

Thu, 03 Sep 2009 21:05:36 PDT

Mother's day roses for my mom.

apertureition

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 09:26:12 PST

Self portrait with more surreal perspective.
taken behind the bonsai i gave my mother for her b-day
20 second shutter
naturally lit, slight adjustment levels and framing post production but other then that unedited. First post in about 4 months or so.
i could use some critique and encouragement it's been hard for me to be inspired lately.

Happy mother's day

Sun, 09 May 2010 08:30:39 PDT

Scanned the hangman I played with my mom~! My hands in the back because I got the idea from :deviantnekoSpicer: when she scanned her face- only i did it with my hand.

It kind of looks creepie, but that wasn't the effect I was going for, anyway- happy mom's day you guys! XD

-the note card is something my brother made, that's why admitarasu is at the bottom.

Periphs

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 19:20:49 PST

I'm getting a bit worried about myself as well as angry. For a few weeks now, I've been seeing things move in my peripherals that aren't there. Last night, I thought there was a black cat in my room because I saw a shadow move out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked, of course there's nothing there and there's not even anything in my room that can cast a moving shadow. Just a half hour ago, I thought I saw a black spider on the floor in front of me walking towards me, but as soon as I look down, there's nothing there.

I don't understand what the issue is. A friend of mine suggested to me that it might be because I haven't been sleeping well, so I fixed that. I sleep two more hours than normal now and I'm still seeing things. I'm not incredibly healthy, but nothing that's wrong with me causes hallucinations. I'm not on any medications and I don't have any mental disorders. What the heck is the deal?

More than being really worried, I'm just getting more and more pissed off. I can't stand not being in control of myself and it's been happening at least once a day for around three weeks. I tried asking my mother for advice, but she just stared off into space, daydreaming about pizza rolls and wouldn't even acknowledge I was there...

I feel like this photo.

The Triffid

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 17:09:32 PDT

A steel sculpture of a flower which my daughter, Angie, bought me for Mother's Day. I find it a little.......disturbing! Hence the title.

ME MATRYOSHKA

Fri, 14 Oct 2011 22:51:40 PDT

Well, I made this picture because the third Sunday in October, tomorrow (in Argentina, today is Saturday) is the Mother's Day and my mom told me she wanted a picture of me and my 2 sister doing something "strange", so, me and my sisters, we decided to give her a photo of us dressed Matryoshka style. I just upload my picture because my sisters didn't want it posted on the Internet.
Well, here I am. Criticize or say what you want about this photo.

MATRYOSHKA MATRYOSHKA!!!!

I Will Always Remember

Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:31:46 PST

This is from relay for life. My mother is a survivor of cancer, and it runs in my family. Close people to me have died from it, and the thought is making me cry right now, because they were all so important to me, and in this picture it captures the emotion and love of those who remember their friends family and even people they never knew. The bags have the names of those in memory of. It was really a sad day though. within 24 hours of the even taking place 2 people very important to me died of cancer. The morning that relay for life started one of my best friend's moms died of cancer, and i remember when i heard it, and how hurt and emotional i was about it. The night that relay for life ended my old councilor died of cancer. Two people who played a major role in my life died within 24 hours of the event that raises money each year to find the cure.

======
I screwed up something on it and had to fix it

The Humbling River

Mon, 08 Nov 2010 18:17:37 PST

Tirzyah lay on the floor of Mother Binhri's ritual room, breathing in time with the gentle rocking of the airship. Mother Binhri herself was puttering about, lighting the candles and the incense, more nervous about the coming trial than Tirzyah, herself. She had heard of spiritual initiations done in front of great crowds, and found herself grateful that this would only be witnessed by herself and her teacher, she couldn't imagine herself being god-mad without a blush of embarrassment.

Mother Binhri finished with the candles and knelt near Tirzyah's head, holding a small tincture bottle.

"You've walked the Roads before, with myself and with your guides. Tonight you go alone. Tonight, you find yourself. How can you face demons if you do not face yourself? The Roads you walk tonight will show you what you will be, you know what you are. You cannot change what you were, but what will be is ever-shifting, and all the more fearsome because of it. Not that you'll remember my saying this, but DO NOT LIE. By now, honesty on the Roads should be ingrained, but it bears repeating. Stick out your tongue."

With five drops of the bitter tincture in her mouth, Tirzyah closed her eyes and did not fight the swimming sensation that overtook her. Deep breath by deep breath, she walked away from her body as she had practiced for the past three years.

A rush of cold made her skin prickle, and she opened her eyes to see herself walking on a river formed of clouds and brilliant sunlight. Every other time she had done this, she had been surrounded by a deep violet twilight, enveloping and mysterious. This light was so clear, so stringent that it seemed to make her eyes water and her nose itch. She saw figures ahead, indistinct in the glimmering shine of the river. Her years of training and meticulous self-control seemed to melt away, and she ran toward them, thinking that the way they walked seemed familiar.

When she came up alongside them, she saw a young woman, average in height and build, but not in bearing. The woman carried her head high, an expression of haughty challenge evident in her stone-gray eyes. Her features were familiar to Tirzyah, as they should be, being a more refined version of her own. She didn't even glance Tirzyah's way, but walked along the cloud-river as if she owned it and everyone on it. A small, nervous, scholarly-looking man followed her, looking lonely and desperate, his eyes never resting in their search for something nicer to gaze upon. Though she was regal-looking, this woman seemed as hard and cold as diamond. Tirzyah shook her head, and without a word, left them behind. When she looked back, they had vanished.

She moved forward in a strange, floating swim, he feet never touching the 'ground'. She had always moved like this in dreams, and now it served as her way of getting around outside her body. Her teacher truly swam, kicking her feet and waving her arms, But Tirzyah just floated effortlessly.

Up ahead, two more figures came into view. As Tirzyah edged closer, she wondered why she was seeing more than one person, when it was supposed to be only herself that she met. She neared the pair trudging along, and took careful notice of them with as many senses as she could control at one time. The woman could have been tall, but she walked stooped over, wrapped in an almost visible loneliness that blinded her eyes to Tirzyah floating nearby. She stared at the 'ground' just before her feet, her eyes unwavering and unblinking. The man following behind the woman seemed almost to shine with his own light, giving off tiny fireworks of magical energy with every breath. Every so often, he would start to reach for the woman's hand, then drop back with a look of consternation on his face. Abandoning her study of the anguished woman, Tirzyah glared at the man, fighting with the wall between familiarity and knowledge. With a gasp, she cried out, "Halegd!" but the man didn't look away from the woman. Tirzyah floated fearfully away, racking her brain for reasons why a chaos god would be trying so hard to raise her spirits.

She flew with seemingly great speed along the cloud-river, desperate to find a woman that bore some familiar trace of herself, not just her face but her self. In her distraction, she didn't notice the light turning gray and blue, nor the smoky wisps that raised themselves from the river to swirl around her ankles. She slowed down only when she felt the chill of night, and smelled sage and less common herbs smoldering. She saw a small orange light in the inky lapis-tinted darkness. She crept toward it slowly, afraid of what she would find next.

A female shape danced and whirled around a tiny fire, humming tunelessly and beating a drum with no real rhythm. Tirzyah tried to sneak nearer, but the figure stopped suddenly, staring her way. The woman was tall, and made taller by a feathered hat. She wore the mask that Tirzyah had only just completed, looking far more fierce than Tirzyah could credit.

"You!!" the woman crowed, pointing her finger as if at the most dire of criminal activity. "Iiii am here. Youuu are here. Weee arrreee... Here!" Her words veered between a disturbing drawl and an energetic chant, a low growl and a screech, and with each syllable she moved as if to an unheard dance tune. Tirzyah couldn't stop a slight shudder, for she knew that the woman was truly god-mad, and that the woman was herself.

"Aaaah, yes, it is time and time and past time. Sit sit sit, and tell me your woes, little one, for I-you-we are the only ones listening now, no pesky gods, no silly nosy old women."

Tirzyah found herself sitting on an upturned log, trying to watch the god-mad woman as she circled like a scavenger. "Well, if you are me and I'm you and all that, who were those others? Why wouldn't they talk to me?"

The woman stopped short, but her feathered hat kept waving. "Ha! Them, they, we, are the way you could be, if you choose to. Theyyy couldn't bear to face you, little girl, you are what they, we, I have left behind, and I, they, do not like being reminded of losses. You are what we miiiiight have been, but would not be. As soon ask the earth to rid herself of weight." She cackled, howled, then returned to whirling angrily.

Tirzyah stood, hugging her shoulders but trying to seem braver than she felt. "I don't understand!" she shouted. "Why are there men here when I was meant to face myself? Why was Halegd here in this place where I was told the gods did not walk? Why was he following me?" She gulped in several breaths, sitting down when her confusion ran short of words.

The god-mad priestess began a singsong chant with a malicious grin behind the grimace of the mask.

"Haaalegd? He's walking change
walking strange
can easily derange and yet...
would die for my sake
magic in man-shape,
he cannot help if you confound him so...
Where you go, he is, and I'll know why soon enough."

Tirzyah's vision began to fade, and she felt herself being pulled back down, back in, and readily let go of her grasp of this place. She heard one more mad howl before she blinked her eyes open, safe once again in Mother Binhri's ritual room, in her own body. Mother Binhri was pacing the room, smoking furiously, obviously worried about her apprentice. She didn't hear the first dry croak Tirzyah tried to say, but she heard the second, and was instantly at her side, holding her head up to drink from a wooden cup.

"So you return safe. You were away long enough to worry me, you know. Two full days you were Wandering, not a move, not a twitch, not a snore. I know you're still parched, but tell me what you found." Smoke trickled from her mouth, following her words, and Tirzyah almost giggled despite herself, though she sobered quickly.

"I... Don't understand any of it. I couldn't see me, I wasn't me anymore, and the one who could was not just god-mad but insane, and I was afraid, and I wasn't alone with myself, and Halegd..." Tirzyah sat up coughing.

"Sh, shh, that's enough. I had to know that you had seen, but what you've seen is your own burden. Drink this tea. Slowly, now, yes, I know it's sour. It is alright for you to be confused and afraid. That Walk was to show you that you are not only who you are now, but the seed of who you will be. You choose how you walk, that was but a glimpse at a very few of the paths before you. You are 14 years old, and though more powerful and more trained than many, you still have a long way to go, and you must be shown just how little power you have, so that you don't choke on your arrogance. If you had not passed this trial, you would have walked the Roads until your body perished. You did pass, you came back, but never forget the weaknesses you bear. Next week, we begin the Greater Training, but for now get some real rest. Work of the spirit is more tiring than work of the body, sometimes."

Mother Binhri stood carefully, joints crackling, and stepped outside into the cool evening air. She worried over why and how Halegd could have slipped into Tirzyah's ritual, when gods were barred from this initiation ritual by their own solemn word. Even a chaos god was bound by his freely given word, unless he had some deeper and more subtle tie to her soul.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

I love this photo. That day, the rippling clouds looked like a river to me, and I started singing [link] while I grabbed my camera.

This story fragment took me all day to write, trying to get it straight. It started to come into existence at 11AM, with the whispering, growling chant of Tirzyah's god-mad self.

Being god-mad is a part of being a shaman, and after long experience She's learned not to be afraid of that side of herself when it comes, but at 14, her first time doing this alone, she was terrified of this lack of control and lack of self. There's no better way to put a young shaman in her place than to show her what WILL go wrong if she doesn't keep track of herself.

With every fragment, this character grows. I need to learn more about Tomas and Halegd, find more characters and build this into a living world already.

->Razzi

proximity

Wed, 13 May 2009 23:22:43 PDT

Second day on the porch, 20 minutes with the light, spinning the little vase and looking straight into the sun. Little sheer curtains are masking some of the light. Tulips

shapes

Mon, 11 May 2009 21:00:44 PDT

my porch may get some more use. First spring in the old house.
glass porch

Patterns in Ikea

Thu, 29 May 2008 09:07:51 PDT

How pretty, no?
I went to Ikea with Mother 2 days back and i had my camera! So i snapped all the pretty designs. These are just FOUR of the manymany!

Oh my, ikea makes me happy

Since you've been gone...

Mon, 28 Mar 2011 16:22:41 PDT

For the memories of my mother's little bird, who passed away yesterday, reclaimed by age and disease.

The little green ball of feathers had been habiting this cage on our little world for about an year now, and quickly grew to became a member of our family and my mother's best friend. His death comes to us with sorrow with my mother witnessing it before her own eyes. For days now the bird had lost his energy and happiness and stopped singing and jumping non-stop on his pole from one side to the other. It was with a final whistle that he left this horrible world for a much better one. I remember even in his last days we had came really close to each other, like if he wasn't afraid of our huge difference in sizes and actually stop to whistle at me and vice-versa.

The wanting to cry and show weakness shows up on my soul every once in a while, as even if it is possible to replace a pet, you can never forget the experiences you had with it.

He now rests under the tree focused on the bottom-right glass, right next to a cat we used to have, and my other old cat will soon join them, as I can see the merciless marks of age on her fur.

I guess this episode only got to show me how cruel life can be, as that magnificent, cute little bird was lifeless and with his eyes closed on my mother's hand as she showed him to me and how dependent we came to be of that animal's presence, only to realize he isn't with us anymore. I will always remember you...

First came home in: the 6th of March of 2010
Left on: 27th of March of 2011

ÊckseZerú - [Kami.]

P.S.: Please understand I'm not aiming for an actual piece of art with this photo.

Reverie 2

Thu, 22 Jun 2006 15:06:28 PDT

Location: Oakhill, NS; Sunnyside Cemetery
Photographer: Lindsey Beck

This image was taken one day while I was visiting my grandfather's grave. While my mother was tending to his grave, I was off exploring and researching the tombstones and grave markers in the cemetery. I was sort of awed when I stopped and found myself at this angle and I felt as though for a moment I was standing in the foot prints of another individual who existed long before me, who once stopped and saw what I saw.

Reverie means a state of abstract musing; daydreaming.