Black fencing
445 creative works found
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Silence Lane / I love cemeteries. / For some people, cemeteries are places of dread. For me, they are places of wonderful quiet and peace. A place of resting, whatever your religion, if any. Memories wrapped in stone and tree shadows. A place to reflect, and wonder about life. Perhaps our lives are just perfect – loved ones all around, financial independence; maybe fame and fortune. / In the end, we all wind up here. / / One life, one chance to feel good about it. / My rules for photography and art are very simple – I like it, or I don’t… / / Thanks for visiting my folio :) / I certainly appreciate your taking time to view what I’ve been up to, and enjoy reading your comments. / / / / Writings (or ramblings) / Come, Dark / Chandelier Brain / Eat Me / The 10th / You’re Strange, Rick / Ever-Queen / Sleeping / Beauty / The Black, White & Grey / / / / Hope / / / One / / / Reap what you Sow / / / Trust / / / Directions / / / Unconditional Love / / / The Long Road / / / Silence Lane
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Taken at Mammoth Hot Springs (Yellowstone Nat’l Park, WY) on a cold September morning. The sun was beginning to break through the fog, but the boardwalk still led through an eerie scene. Probably my favorite as I like the mystery. Canon Elan II / Velvia film.
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Acrylic on canvas. Contemporary abstract botanical.
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Take advantage of whatever time is given to you. You never realize how precious it could have been until it’s over. / / Four blackbirds sit on a fence surrounding the pool at a park by our house. this is another one in memory of my brother, the third bird with the light on him and with his head tilted down is representative of my brother while the the other three birds are the rest of us kids. People have suggested he looks like the chosen one. / / film / / Oct 07, Tucson, AZ
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Early morning by the beach. My profile / / /
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Taken on New Year’s Eve 2007 on the Eastern Shores of Lake Connewarre. / What a dramatic, colourful end to the year !!
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/ A flock of birds, it swooped and danced, Held my gaze while I stood entranced. They moved as one through the atmosphere A minuet as they drew near. Thousands of birds in a flight of grace; Each tiny bird kept its own place. The percussion beat of their drumming wings Keeping time while the multitude sings, And I can hear them on their stage in the air A traveling show to who knows where. Perhaps a summer home, a perch, A quiet place in a Silver Birch. An end to the long dance, a place to rest Where wing and song can pause in a feathered nest.
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Watch the Video HERE When this began / I had nothing to say / And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me / I was confused / and I let it all out to find / That I’m not the only person with these things in mind / Inside of me / but all the vacancy the words revealed / Is the only real thing that I’ve got left to feel / Nothing to lose, / just stuck hollow and alone / And the fault is my own and the fault is my own I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real / I wanna let go of the pain I’ve held so long / Erase all the pain till it’s gone / I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real / I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along / Somewhere I belong And I’ve got nothing to say / I can’t believe I didn’t fall right down on my face / I was confused, / looking everywhere only to find / That it’s not the way I had imagined it all in my mind / So what am I, / what do I have but negativity / Cause I can’t justify the way everyone is looking at me / Nothing to lose, / nothing to gain, hollow and alone / And the fault is my own and the fault is my own I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real / I wanna let go of the pain I’ve held so long / Erase all the pain till it’s gone / I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real / I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along / Somewhere I belong I will never know myself until I do this on my own / And I will never feel anything else until my wounds are healed / I will never be anything till I break away from me / I will break away, I’ll find myself today I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real / I wanna let go of the pain I’ve held so long / Erase all the pain till it’s gone / I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real / I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along / Somewhere I belong I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I´m / Somewhere I belong / I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I´m / Somewhere I belong / Somewhere I belong Linkin Park
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Farm buildings along I-90 in South Dakota. Taken as we were driving past at around 75mph. /
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taken in outback NSW in Jan.2007. Heavy thunderstorms loom on the horizon of these barren plains. more of my meteorological photography can be seen at / thunderstorms more of my outback Australian photography can be seen at / the Aussie outback
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An abandoned Victorian Italianate style house (c.1880-90) in Annandale, an inner city suburb of Sydney. Sitting proudly in a corner position of this hip and happening suburb, it had once been loved and cared for – if you look closely, you can see that one of the previous owners, at some stage, installed an alarm – a measure sure to deter possible intruders. Today, some of the lacework is missing, the fence posts have deteriorated, the concrete probably has cancer, the garden is full of weeds, steps to the front door are missing…will nobody love it anymore?
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Another version of my work “Accessories” with a bit more manipulation in PS…Not sure which one I prefer??
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Beautiful landscape on a cold winter morning. Location: Transylvania
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Larger on Black here
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Watch the Video here Feel it falling off like clothing / Taste it rolling on your tongue / See the lights above you glowing / Oh and breathe them deep into your lungs It was always simple, not hidden hard / You’ve been pulling at the strings playing puppeteer for kings / And you’ve had enough But the search ends here / Where the night is totally clear / And your heart is fierce / So now you finally know that you control where you go / You can steer So hold this feeling like a newborn / Of freedom surging through your veins / You have opened up a new door / So bring on the wind, fire and rain It was always simple, not hidden hard / You’ve been played at a game called remembering your name / And you stuffed it up But the search ends here / Where the night is totally clear / And your heart is fierce / So now you finally know that you control where you go / You can steer ‘Cos you’ve been listening for answers / But the city screams and all your dreams go unheard But the search ends here / Where the night is totally clear / And your heart is fierce / So now you finally know that you control where you go / You can steer / Year get out of the box and step into the clear / ‘Cos now you finally know you can steer Missy Higgins
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f22, 25 sec exposure. / Shorncliffe, Qld.
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/ Photographer for Hire – All Occasions – Mail Me :) / / My rules for photography and art are very simple – I like it, or I don’t… / / Thanks for visiting my folio :) / I certainly appreciate your taking time to view what I’ve been up to, and enjoy reading your comments. / / / Writings (or ramblings) / Another World / The 3rd / The 10th / Weaver / High-Flyer / The In-Between Place / The Haggard Crone / Come, Dark / Chandelier Brain / Eat Me / You’re Strange, Rick / Ever-Queen / Sleeping / The Black, White & Grey / /
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An IR shot of Dudley Beach taken this morning. Same spot as Halfway To Heaven
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Camera: FujiFilm FinePix S7000 / Location: Tumut, NSW, Oz. ISO200 / f/8 / Focal Length: 7.8mm / Exposure: 5.0sec / Filter: R72 (infrared) / Tripod It’s the same house as in Homestead
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Grandma’s Home by Nicole Ryan There’s a place / where grandma sat / on the porch / with a rocking chair / a big heart / and a smile that didn’t care / if your shoes were wet / if you feet were muddy / if you face was dirty / and when you were hurting / she’d pick you up / and carry you inside / in her big arms / she’d sit you on the table / where you never ever could sit / otherwise / and she’d pat / and dab / and whisper / it’s o.k / it’s alright / with a bandaid / stuck on just right / and she’d send you back out / into the world / and you’d run with a limp / but you’d soon forget / about the pain / there were games / to be played. That house was always so warm. When Poppy died / Grandma still kept it warm / she let us do things / that he never did / and she never got upset / or said / “Don’t slam the damn door!” / she never ever said / anything less than love. That house was always so warm. The yard was big / and the trees were bigger / we’d climb / and dangle stars from the limbs / and bells from the twigs / and we’d play outside / at that time of day / when it wasn’t quite dark / when it wasn’t quite light / and we’d hide and seek / and squeel and get giddy / running around / through the bells and stars. We’d go to Grandma’s after school / and run toward the smell / of the hot cakes / of the love / of Grandma’s perfume / and we opened that front gate / with pride / and a sigh / because it always made that same noise / to let us know / we were at the right house / it was home. We knew everyone wanted to live there / because that house was always so warm. People would look and smile / and stop and take a flower from the front / sometimes / the kids would steal / pickets from the fence / and play / rah / rah / rah / all the way home / like pirates / and prisoners / and war men / having fun / when things weren’t serious / and days were long / but never long enough / I knew / that they were taking a picket / home to their parents / so that they could start building a house / just like Grandma’s; because that house was always so warm. © ryan
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