Boundaries
252 creative works found
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rendered partial of an old gate
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Sand swept boundary fence at Mundowdna Stn. Near Marree Sth. Aust. / Forlorn isolation, drought and hopelessness, while at the same time burgeoning great beauty in its persistence and perseverence. / Soft pastels.
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Loon
by sara montourFor me it’s not officially summer until I hear the loons calling across the lakes.
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This is one of several shots from a photographic workshop in the Victorian high country with Richard White. / The fence surrounds what used to be Craig’s hut – an ‘authentic’ mountain cattle man’s hut built for the filming of “Man from Snowy River”, which burnt down in December 2006.
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www.willpursell.com
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the most mysterious and beautiful of landscapes…the human body. inspired by this passage from the novel, “The English Patient” by Michael Ondaatje: / “I’m afraid I waste the light on the paintings, not writing these words. We die. We die rich with lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we’ve entered and swum up like rivers. Fears we’ve hidden in – like this wretched cave. I want all this marked on my body. Where the real countries are. Not boundaries drawn on maps with the names of powerful men. I know you’ll come carry me out to the Palace of Winds. That’s what I’ve wanted: to walk in such a place with you. With friends, on an earth without maps…”
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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) / Weaver / High-Flyer / The 10th / The In-Between Place / The Haggard Crone / Come, Dark / Chandelier Brain / Eat Me / You’re Strange, Rick / Ever-Queen / Sleeping / Beauty / The Black, White & Grey / /
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I really hate to put so much work into something and then post / it as “Untitled.” Sometimes I just can’t thing of anything to call it, / but I will try my darndest to come up with a name. While I was contemplating this, I saw an aerial view of rooftops and city streets below. It made me think of the lengths we go through to compartmentalize ourselves and to protect our personal space with barriers, both concrete and emotional. Don’t get me wrong: civilization is good … I like my creature comforts. But I have always been able to feel lonely in a crowd.
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These witch’s hats caught my eye on my ride home from work.
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Nieul, Charente, France / 2007 / Black And White
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The warmth of a foggy dawn is reflected in the wet grass and the posts of this farming fenceline.
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A September sunset on the Rainy River, the 60 mile water border between Minnesota and Ontario. This river was known as the “Voyageurs Highway” during the fur trade era and served First Nation people as the main trade artery linking east and west, north and south for thousands of years. On the left bank is Minnesota with Ontario on the right. For thousands of years people of the Rainy River knew no boundaries and freely traveled back and forth.
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Sony DSC F717 digital photo enhanced with Photoshop. / “FEATURED IN THE MULTIRACIAL BEAUTY Group” / “Featured in the EXCEPTIONAL EKPHRASIS Group 10/9/09” / “Featured in the FREEDOM IN WORDS Group” * “In homage to love across the divide. Love knows no color it embraces all blindly. “ When I first heard Mike Wich’s beautiful instrumental I began to see a flood of images from my life. Images of love won, love lost and love found again. Of happy and not so happy times. Images of my fleeting summer days crashing against my autumn nights. While my lover slept in the other room, I shut the door and began to sing this song. The music, the song and the memories inspired this image. Thank you to Mr. Mike Wich for graciously allowing me to record and to publish it here and on YouTube. Thanks for listening. In Another Place, In Another Time *(Listen on YouTube) / Song written & performed by RoyAllenHunt © 2/13/08 / No Será Largo, Music written & performed by Mike Wich © 2007 I remember when I held your face in my two hands. When I kissed your mouth I could taste the breath of change draw me in. Oh our sweet innocence. And the many times, the many, many, many times our bodies intertwined. I becoming yours you becoming mine. In another place, in another time, days turned into night. We shared such a happy, happy life. In another place, in another time. It wasn’t planned it just was. No questions asked it was just because. What we did we did for love. And if mistakes were made, in our loving we forgave. We knew somehow it was the only way. Even if we cried, after our tears were dried, our love managed somehow—to survive. In another place, in another time. And that we’re older now I have one wish to make. If only one last journey we could take. If in the time we have left, could we go back to trace those very same steps that we did back then—and do it all over again? Ooh, in another place, in another time. Days turned into night we shared such a happy, happy life. In another time, I was yours—and darling you were mine. In another place, in another time, days turned into night – such a happy, happy, happy life. In another place, in another time, I was yours and—you were mine. In another place, in another time. In another place in another time.. /
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I met these fellas on Tanna Island.
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All photographs and artworks in this portfolio are copyrighted and owned by the artist, Anne Staub. Any reproduction, modification, publication, transmission, transfer, or exploitation of any of the content, for personal or commercial use, whether in whole or in part, without written permission from myself is prohibited. All rights reserved.
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As a personal journey of transformation continues to unfold, this “spinning wheel” that sits in our loft, takes on a whole new meaning as today for the first time I became a silent warrior… In the days of old, we spun sheep’s wool into yarn / to knit and weave for warmth and socks to darn Today, yarns are tales told with deceptive pride / as arrogant greed leads to superiority’s confide Threats full of fear with angry, envious undertones / as regretful voices of ego make sorrowful groans No feelings of inferiority as the truth rings in my ears / as the serenity and silence of light soon appears A benevolent nature to observe becomes a deep strength / as my voice remains silent with the lights’ wavelength A strategy of peace and a nonviolent stance / frustrates the angry opponent in this loving dance Guilt overtakes him, as I spin hopes’ energetic light / as a silent warrior of compassion, I will win this fight. tkrosevear 3/23/2009 The Buddha was the one who turned the wheel of dharma or ‘wheel of law’, in Tibetan tradition it is translated as the ‘wheel of transformation’. The wheels motion is a metaphor for the rapid spiritual change engendered by the teachings of Buddha. The wheel also represents the endless cycle of rebirth or samsara (sanskrit). Interestingly enough, another auspicious symbol of Buddhism – the hub symbolizing moral discipline, which stabilizes the mind and the spokes (usually 8) represent wisdom which is applied to defeat ignorance. The rim represents training in concentration, which holds everything else together. Dharma, literally translated means ‘that which upholds or supports’, while in Buddhist translations it means “higher truth” and/or “the ultimate reality of universe”. / The “WHEEL” in general, is one of the supreme symbols of cosmic momentum – the force that drives the planets and the stars – and of ceaseless change and repitition. Within all cultures, practices and beliefs this symbol is linked to the cycles of manifestation, birth, death and rebirth, the Zodiac, time and human destiny. Spinning Wheel
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Beyond Accustomed Boundaries / ...the only real barriers to your growth, especially mental, is your very own self…transcend and fly! Own the original 96.8cm x 85cm Digital Image, ships directly from the artist. Painted with deep, rich digital oil brush strokes of yellow and burnt sienna, plus a blend of other lively colours. / Price: $1,200 All images, graphics and written content on this gallery have been created for and are the sole property of Solomon Walker. Content and images may not be reproduced without express written permission.
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Forgiveness not forgotten
by tkrosevearI forgave you yesterday for hurtful words / today, I compromised for affection / I’ll forgive you tomorrow / and lose more faith in my belie…
Back in 1992, I wrote this quote in my journal, “Forgiveness is a courageous attempt to add steps to the ladder of the future. To forgive oneself is the doorway to heaven and the challenge of lives to come.” I cannot remember who the author was, but this quote is a part of my daily routine - / I forgive myself for what I’ve done yesterday, today and tomorrow! / In my counseling efforts the issue of forgiveness is always misconstrued, that in order to forgive you must embrace the person forgiven – this is NOT to say you need live with them, tolerate future abuse, or forget the lessons learned from this relationship. I guess that this particular belief is what sparked the inspiration for this writing at 2am this morning. / I am hopeful that someone struggling with Self-Esteem earns their presence and ability to hold themself in enough regard and strength NOT to compromise themself for Survival, Affection or Success! / Peace~ Imagine my surprise today 5/6/09, when my sweet sister DevineDay Dreams created created this beautiful artwork to accompany this poem…
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16”X20” water mixable oil on stretched canvas
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