Giving
890 creative works found
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'Congo Spirit' HEAL Africa Hospital, Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo
by Melinda KerrUS$5.13–US$136.80
Love him. And available as a Christmas card! It is full size just doesn’t look it here. / HEAL Africa calendar available now!!! CLICK HERE. / And there’s a trucker cap. / Hey, doin’ good needn’t mean you can’t be cool at the same time. CLICK HERE FOR THE HAT!
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This child watched through a broken window as we worked inside. It’s times like this when the natural, uncontrived symbolism of circumstance just presents itself to you and all you have to do is click. There was not pretence, no staging, no crap. Just reality. It still engages me now. Look at his eyes. What is he thinking? He’s aching. He is full on aching. How can I help them more, how can I help them more, how can I help them more… Please give if you can or pass it on to someone else. That’s giving too. All proceeds to charity. NOW AVAILABLE AS A CHRISTMAS CARD! /
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Collage I went looking / I couldn’t find you / your shell had washed / itself clear from my view / only the sand below revealed / the strands of your fine hair © Inspired by Frida Kahlo ; What the water gave me I was admiring a red bubble Greeting Card yesterday while in the hot tub. This phenomenal ART is by ENaLu and she titled it WHAT WATER GIVES.Thank you, ENaLU…I love my card. ;) Michael J Armijo SOFA NUDE by ENaLu
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after many many hours and km’s…. this storm was dead and I thought I had missed a ‘dream shot’. The lightinging had become so sparse it seemed ridiculous even sitting on the beach to watch, yet alone be set up to photograph lightning ! / But alas ! this storm had one final freak discharge to exult to earth….ahhh….patience and persistence. :) / / / EOS A2, Fuji Velvia 50. / ©T.Middleton2008 —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—— / / / / / see more of my weather related photography by clicking below / /
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Just a little something for Valentines Day :-)
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We’re all looking for a sign (every now and then), this is where I want to be – in a pure minimal landscape… oh, and that also sells Italian food!
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Let me take you on a journey. / It’s 2007 in the capital city of Rwanda, Kigali. / April; The month of mourning for the atrocities of the genocide 13 years ago. / A wonderful theory. / A hopelessly inadequate practice. / Mourn for only one month, the butchering of your family? / Oh well, at least the government is trying we reason. / I’m here with 15 others on an aid trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda in central africa. / Both tragic messes. / The trash can of the world. / Where other countries occasionally rifle through the litter to find gems – only to leave the remnants crushed up in their wake. / Messy business pillaging. / What do you do with all those annoying people? / This day we are with the Barakaboa Foundation. / A group of hopelessly under resourced Rwandans set up to deal with the ‘parent-less’ generation left dazed by the atrocities of the past. / On their ‘books’ kids as young as 10 raising kids younger than that. / There are no orphanages in Rwanda. / The government favours family upbringings. / A wonderful theory. / A hopelessly inadequate practice. / Who do you run to when your stand in Mum or Dad are 8, 10, 12? / Oh well, at least the government is trying we reason. / But how does that work you ask suspiciously? / If the genocide was 13 years ago, how are stand-in parents so young? / AIDS. / How handy Barakaboa was already in place. / They just swivel from one barbaric destroyer to the next. / We are to visit one of the families they support. / It’s hot, dusty and despairingly grimy. / We break into two groups. / I travel with my sister, a full time aid worker and her husband a doctor. / To a family in the city. / We feel uncomfortable. / We feel obtrusive. / We feel confronted. / We feel hopeless. / And we feel western. / We are all these things. / It is my task to record the event photographically. / My lens is worth more than they will make in a lifetime. / My feeble request for freedom to portray accepted with grace laced with exhaustion. / Our host is the woman in this shot. / I don’t even know her name. / It is dark and I can barely focus. / There is no electricity. / Torn material hangs inefficiently from the ceiling across glassless windows. / There is no breeze. / The air is stifling. / The atmosphere shameful. / The outlook hopeless. / In her one room home live herself, her two children and three adopted orphans. / Such is the way in Rwanda. / She has AIDS. / Her husband passed it on before he died. / Her 16 year old daughter has AIDS. / Most likely from rape. / Her fatherless child? / Who knows. / There are 6 people living here. / It’s tiny. / It’s tiny. / It’s tiny. / We ask how we can help. / Snap goes my shutter. / She needs medicine. / For all the stuff AIDS brings. / Colds, fever, nausea. / My brother-in-law writes a script. / We fumble around for some Rwandan money. / A wonderful theory. / A hopelessly inadequate practice. / She can’t afford the taxi to the pharmacy. The authorities supply AIDS medicine to those who’ll admit they have it. But not medicine for the ‘off-shoots’ of HIV. And the drug companies? Don’t even start me? / Oh well, at least the government is trying we reason. / Snap, another shot. / She has nothing on the walls except a crucifix. / She is a Christian. / She really is one. / Not just one for charity. / She asks us to hold her hand and pray for her. / She asks us to pray for her family. / She loves her family. / I look at my sister. / I look at my brother-in-law. / They stand up and hold her hands. / My brother-in-law bends down and checks the youngest’s eyes. / I love my family too. / We pray. / Then, snap, a family shot. / We leave. / With the promise we won’t tell the neighbors she has AIDS. / She is ashamed. / So are we. / Not of who we are or why we’ve come or what we’ve done. / We are ashamed and angry and affronted at the horrible, despicable and unacceptable inequality of gender and geography. / My sister and I share a glance in the silence on the way back to the mission hostel. / There but by the grace of God, that could have been us. Share. Please. You know the drill by now. All proceeds to charity.
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Flowers after Rain.
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Another photo manipulation, this one was inspired by a situation my friend was in, I decided to cheer him up with a digital present. It’s about not giving up of search for truelove/happiness. The face might be rusting away but it’s still looking, still hoping. / Currently working on an oil painting of this with brown eye colouring rather than blue for a monochromatic look.
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Not sure about this….......it was an experiment with a cross between a holga and lomo effect. Might fiddle a bit more and see if I can replicate the effect more closely. This shot was taken at Trinity Beach in Cairns, a few minutes walk from our old house. Rumour had it that this particular bench had special powers….......if you sat there pondering a problem in your life and the light hit at the precise moment, all your wishes would come true. Needless to say, the light you see here is all done via PS, but I still like the folk tale.
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“the true meaning of life, / is to plant trees / under whose shade you do not expect to sit….” Nelson Henderson Here Goes you are inspiring! undertaking: adventure, attempt, calling, charge, commitment, covenant, effort, endeavor, enterprise, ethos, experiment, guarantee, project, pledge, promise, proposition, pursuit, struggle, task, venture, vow…. Mixed media on canvas / (mostly Acrylic, some impasto gel, gouache, stuff lying around, modeling clay and crackle medium) / 92cm X 61cm / June 2008
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Let me tell you about Samuel. I met Samuel at Mamman Jeanne’s orphanage in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Africa. Mamman Jeanne’s orphange is sponsored by CNEC Partners International and supported by Heal Africa. Samuel danced for us on arrival. He was awesome. I then had the privilege of interviewing him. In short, here’s his story: When Samuel was 2 and still being breast fed, his mother was set upon randomly by the militia. They do that, for fun. She was attacked with machetes and kiiled where she stood. Samuel was cut by the blow. You can see the scar on the left hand side of his face. He also has some scars on his scalp. Oh and he lost his left hand. Thinking they were all dead and their days work done, the militia left. Samuel was discovered, barely but still alive. He was taken from his mother’s corpse and somehow delivered to Mamman Jeanne. A remarkable woman who nursed him herself (as she was already breast feeding her own child). Samuel is now 16 and still at Mamman Jeanne’s orphanage. Which resides in a war torn country not ‘important’ enough to save. People like Samuel are everywhere in Congo. Everywhere. People like Mamman Jeanne? Not quite so many. Samuel likes playing soccer and dancing. Prior to us arriving a chid had been stolen from the orphanage by the militia to be a child soldier. How long do you reckon Samuel has? When people ask you to donate to these causes, they’re asking you because it’s the only way they will survive. It’s as simple and as gruesome as that. Not unlike the crime in the first place.
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Also available: / LENNON_WHITE / / / FROM CELEBRITIES SERIES: / MARILYN / / AUDREY / / / DEAN /
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My new wolf friend seemed to like having his pictures taken – he stared “up close and personal” right into the lens. I believe it is only fitting to donate the proceeds of the sale of this image to a park that more than 200 wolves call home! :) Donation to charity / 50% of the proceeds of the sale of this image will be donated to Algonquin Park
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The bridge reminds me of an emotion of solitude, which is not to be confused with loneliness. The former leads to an internal peace and being one with nature and oneself while the latter was a feeling of being forced to be alone, deprived of freedom and choice. I used to call this photo “Peaceful Bridge” until a young patient of mine (at the time she was nine years old) explored the difference between solitude and loneliness. When the image was presented to him as an illustration, he exclaimed, “Oh, solitude is peace, inner peace!” And the true title of the piece was born. Donation to charity / 50% of the proceeds of the sale of this image will be donated to Nature Canada
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Giving Birth to Mounted Prints
by RedBubbleI’m going to post a little series giving you guys a look behind the curtain, specifically how we make some of our products for you guys. ...
I’m going to post a little series giving you guys a look behind the curtain, specifically how we make some of our products for you guys. Today – lets take a look at mounted prints. We start with a big box of Kodak Endura paper like this: Then we fire a big ‘laser’ at it: After that it gets processed, It’s pretty dark inside the machine… You’re just going to have to use your imagination abit here – lots of rollers and developer: We check and then laminate the prints: We mount it onto the gator: We trim and the edge the print: Finally, we test every product before it goes out: Ok, so it’s all true, except for the last part, though that really is me standing on that print … gator board … strong stuff ! James
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What the hell is going on (and other uplifting stories)...
by Melinda KerrOk, ok first of all, everyone breath. Cool. Now let’s check. Melbourne experiencing four seasons in one day? Check. Shane War…
Ok, ok first of all, everyone breath. Cool. Now let’s check. Melbourne experiencing four seasons in one day? Check. Shane Warne caught out again? Check. Running my own business continuing to be challenging? Check. Darren Stones steering the good ship RB around icebergs with a confident if not somewhat alcohol induced flourish? Check. Some people on some distant journal thread arguing about freedom of speech as if RB is the most vital instrument for world peace on earth. Whilst slandering, vilifying and taunting each other with racial, overworked cliches from behind psuedo names? Check. So nothing new or unusual about today then? Un check. What the… Check this… Today in seperate orders people have bought… 1 canvas print of shoe woman plus 20 cards of shoe woman 150 cards of mother & child 25 cards of Possibility II 25 cards of the congo skipping kids & a further 26 of these 20 cards of this beauty 5 cards of these guys 5 cards of these little ones 2 cards of this chap 2 cards of this dude 2 cards of this princess 5 cards of this piece of possibility and 2 cards of this beautiful, precious boy I don’t know anything much about freedom of speech, flags, philosophy or anything like the stuff that’s been going on here this week. But I’ll tell you all ONE VERY IMPORTANT THING. These purchases will save lives. These people live on less than a dollar a day. They live in slums, gutters and sheds made of flattened alluminium cans. The love, they laugh, they dream – they dodge bullets, they run as fast as they can from rapists usually unsuccessfully, they starve and they cry. Every cent of revenue goes to them and the brave souls who live in a war zone to help them. They couldn’t give a rats about flags, and virtual slanging matches. They live on the real edge. I didn’t cry once in Africa. Right now I am sitting here drowning in tears. Maybe change is possible? Even the tiniest bit?? Thanks RB – thanks whoever. EDIT: SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TIME TO DEBUT THIS FELLA. Oh and thinking of turning some of these into Chrissy cards if anyone’s interested.
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This was a photo I shot last week while at our local zoo here in Florida. / The word “bald” originally meant “white-headed.” The scientific name, Haliaeetus leucocephalus, means “white-headed sea eagle” in Latin. / Male and female bald eagles are identical in color. The distinctive white head and tail mark an adult, a sexually mature bird that is at least 4 to 5 years old. Younger individuals are almost solid brown, although a general mottling in the body feathers and a light coloration in the head and tail develop in older immatures. Both young and adult bald eagles have yellow legs. The young birds have a dark beak and black eyes, both of which turn bright yellow as they become adults. They have up to a 7-foot wingspan, the bald eagle is one of the largest birds of prey in the world. Adults are 3 to 3 1/2 feet tall and weigh 8 to 15 pounds. Like many predatory birds, the female is larger than the male, but size cannot be used conclusively for identification. Nests usually are built near the top of a large tree. Enlarged annually, a bald eagle nest can become the largest of any North American bird. The record nest measured 20 feet deep, 10 feet wide and weighed two tons! Immature bald eagles often are confused with golden eagles, which also are nearly solid brown. One characteristic that sets the two species apart is the legs. The bald eagle’s legs are naked, while golden eagles have feathers all the way down to the talons. In flight, bald eagles soar with flat wings while golden eagles soar with their wings raised in a slight “V”.
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My new friend posed and wanted me to get his face “right”, although I am still not sure that I did. I tried though. Donation to charity / 50% of the proceeds of the sale of this image will be donated to Algonquin Park
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brush your teeth first www.cathleentarawhiti.co.nz People/Portraiture HDR Photography Macro Photography Architecture Collaborations Skyscapes Animals/Birds/Insects Street Art Street Photogrpahy Everyday Objects Seascapes Summer Photography Odd/Unusual Flowers/Plants/Trees Landscapes Christmas New Zealand Our Family Abstract Humour
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Also available: / LENNON_BLACK / / / / / FROM CELEBRITIES SERIES: / MARILYN / / AUDREY / / / DEAN /
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Be part of a Generosity Revolution! / This is a call to action, to care and take an interest.
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Original in 2b pencil, sepia added. i know the hands are a bit too small, hee hee, but i liked the effect. / The prisoner knows his end is near, and he knows the Vampire lies & will not let him leave tomorrow either, so he hatches a plan of his own & will act tomorrow while the Vampire sleeps
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