Light movement
819 creative works found
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This photo was taken just south of Fraser Island in Queensland. With a 30 second exposure at f10 this gave the picture a fairly surreal feel about it.
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Every now and then when I feel a bit stuck for good single shot inspiration, I like to create something odd. This image was the result of one such time…
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Shadows on a street in Aswan, Egypt.
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Multiple exposures and camera movement up and down of a group of eucalyptus trees. Made at John Forrest National Park / I love going there as it is close to home and has flowing water and waterfalls in Winter and amazing wildflowers in Spring.
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Slide sandwich of first light on a Jacaranda tree (Hyde Park)with a fresh wind blowing coupled with a textured slide of rust
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Blue water drop
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Autumn along the Blanco River in Wimberley, TX.
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Full view please :) It was so flattering to be contacted by Sally Omar who was inspired to write a poem to accompany this image. Check out Smothered / SMOTHERED / You smothered me / Locked me in your vault / I want to get out / This is not my fault / You don’t let me feel / Life any more / You’ve locked me in / And closed the door / I need some air / Let me free / I just want to be / Myself..just me / I am starting to wither / And waste away / I can’t stand this / Not another day / I feel my breath fading / The air is stagnant / I am losing my being / Turning into a fragment / You have now / Become too obsessed / I can’t stand / Being possessed / Can’t you see / I hunger for for a breath of air / You won’t allow me / To go anywhere / Even when you are gone / I feel your eyes all the time / I feel your hands / Pressed to mine / I need you now / To let me out of your grasp / My head is spinning / Open the clasp / You’re not willing / To let me free / I will die / Because I can’t be me / SMOTHERED ..::Stock Photo Credit::.. / Model / Columns / Sky / Linseed field If you like this, please check out: / / /
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“New Growth New Hope” Photography & Artwork / by Holly Kempe © A surreal depicition of two larger trees bending over a smaller one and protecting it whilst silhouetted against the rising of a full moon. “Young one you know how I’m older than thee?” / said the largest of the trees, / “Another is growing smaller than you / and we must tell it the best thing to do” / “I know, I know”, said the younger tree, / “To grow as tall as the moon. Will it be sibling to me?” / ‘Yes it shall, it will grow by and by.” / And the trees stood and watched / the new reach for the sky…....” Author: adgray / See the rest of adgray’s writing inspired by / New Growth New Hope here. New Growth New Hope was featured in the: Shoot the Moon Group – April 09
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WHat particularly drew me to this scene were the patterns of light and shadow on the rocks and leaves. Taken on an Autumn afternoon in Jacob’s Fork River, South Mountain State Park, NC. Figuring out a way to get from one slippery and mossy rock to another in order to take the photo was a real challenge too-especially carrying tripod and camera equipment. / Nikon D50, 42mm,F22 ,2 sec / /
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www.danadipasquale.com Chicago, IL
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PART OF THE “LIFE IS…...” COLLECTION “LIFE IS….BELIEF” birds over church in prague at sunrise
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BUS GOING PAST AT NIGHT BY BIG BEN LONDON / long exposure of 4 seconds with fujifil s9600 /
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Fictional 18×24 cm / Acrylic, Gouache & Watercolours on canvas / Full view please — / / — © All images copyright ROUBLE RUST / Spyridoula Bleta / All the images in this gallery are copyrighted, are NOT part of public domain & may not be reproduced, copied, edited, transmitted, uploaded, downloaded, or published in any way without my permission. Any violation of this copyright law will result in a lawsuit.
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this time with people ;-) taken with a nikon D80 with a nikkor 18 – 135 mm lens on a tripod ISO: 100 / shutter speed: 2.2 sec / f/stop: f/9 / focal length: 18 mm
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Choice II is for those who love the light side of the spectrum. It takes on such a different feeling than the much darker original, The Choice / Love should never be a choice. While man attempts to recreate his universe through science, emulating God; at the core, each of us struggles with daily choices that eclipse logic. Are choices of the heart logical or divinely inspired, impetuous or practical, or do these rather define constraints of the mind? Should the heart always win over thought process, or does one inform the other? By our divine nature, women have a choice, to follow our heart, head, will, or spirit. Wrong or right, we exercise it. I’m listening… listening to the dreams. Digital Fine Art, influenced by the Romantic “Pre-Raphaelite” and Arts and Crafts styles. F.A. Moore, June 17, 2009. Special thanks to stock providers: Gillian, LinzStock, Katanaz-Stock, B-SquaredStock, and mariastock, and to art in the public domain from which I referenced the muses. FEATURES 2009-10-25 The Choice-II in Dimensions 2009-07-17 The Choice-II in Southern United States Artists 2009-07-05 The Choice-II in Impressionist Art 2009-06-26 The Choice-II in PEACE, LOVE & TRANQUILITY 2009-06-20 Choice-II in The Divine Feminine / Suggestions: great note card to a lover BEST VIEWED LARGE! / Greeting Card ^ / Mounted print ^ / Framed print ^ / PLEASE SEE ALSO / See The Choice, a much darker, romantic piece for detail views.
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View other work from this series Best viewed LARGE
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Aberdeen’s wave cut rocks are brought to life as the side lighting plays on the textured surfaces. Taken at sunrise as the tide recedes on the North Sea. 1DS Featured at sea group. Thanks / Featured at MASTERS OF THE SCENIC. Thanks / Featured at WAVES. Thanks / Featured at all water in motion. Thanks
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Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. And I love dancing in the rain, with him.
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Torridon, Highlands, Scotland / / A Soft Caress of Welcome and the Scent of Old High Places. This spacious light was common in those days. A soft silk gossamer net that would have to fade to become mist. That would whisper across the glens in common history and Alexion’s gloaming myth memories. This and that would hide and seek, would become damp and shiver spider pearls from the Popish brown and purple of the mountain. Always catching the edge of a rough dress made from banned and ragged tartan. That would be secret sought for later remembered images and collapse in upon itself to find regional rural meaning. That would eventually create pictures that will hang in the hunting lodges of the rich and royal, in need of cleaning. It was morning fresh mood and midge covered evening in the latter end of Summer in the west. Alexion’s stories of the glen in her century. The Black house highland cow dung, black chicken pecked, villaged small secret world of the hidden and the regional self aware. The high views that were seen differently and with much less romance than now in this sad century. A wish to climb the highest in her remembered sight with the breathless wonder and detailed knowledge of the way down, but still not wanting to return to slavery. The stories mythical of a childhood in this fastness of black rock and crashing falling water. The black witch prediction watchfulness of a mother that did not care and besotted father who apparently did; but only in negative for his animals and the mountain at his back. The black seasoned preacher, with his genital showing perversion and stealing of nightgown righteousness. The light shafted mist that began and ended each short day of work. These were her words. These were the notes musical that tried to convince me of the strangely impossible. That fascinated my youth with such detail as to seem real and seen, experienced and happening then as even now. That to me were legends. That to her were as real as breathing. These she told across my neck lying sweat stuck together as we waited for our breath to come back from the past. That she shouted in her ghost voice to the moon and the unfaithfulness of man. Waiting for an explanation with hypnogogic understanding from me and extra detailed history from her. A soft caress of welcome and the scent of heather and old high places. The even softer accent of whispered clasping and spooned bodies that did not want to let go, no matter what forces were at play. Suppose you juxtapose this memory history with small, sweet sounds on the edge of hearing. Of cold softness, of the bed sinking from beneath and behind. Feeling the weight gradually, slowly filling. There are no sudden movements, only the gradual awareness of something else. Gradual and strange. A weight, a pushing back of the sheets. Of small arms across my chest. Very warm and pointedly aware of nakedness. The brushing of nipples across back and buttocks. There is always in this a smell, an evocative sense of something, somewhere else. Nothing I can usually or immediately resolve, but it comes anyway. I can remember every time a witches warmness moving slowly down my back, solar centring. Gathering around her madness and pulling me in. A prick scintillating pricking that does not feel like love, rising to a pointed word. The centre of a celtic spiral. This is far more than pleasure… She will then and only tell her stories, after the brief vicious coupling that rang in this present past with inexperience and needy solutions. That salty, like the sea, spurted with premature love and sang with unfulfilled hopes before we finished with each others thoughts and myths. / © 2009 Ken Simm.
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The popular ride featured at Gold Coast’s Surfers Paradise
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Please see RoyAllenHunt’s written piece: Are You Ok With This. His incredible song is a compliment to this piece. See here for how I created this shot. I really thought I would wait at least two weeks before I tried this again, but then I went hunting in the pantry and found more dye and well, curiosity and motivation got the better of me tonight! Red and green dye this time around. Green was dropped in first, and allowed to swirl around a fair bit, then the red came in. It looked so much like blood coursing through someone, or something.. Backlit by my computer monitor, showing just a white page. Canon 50D / 18 – 55, 58mm / +4 Filter / f5.6, 1/60, ISO 1600 Featured in First Things / Featured in JPG Cast-Offs / Featured in Core [C.O.R.E] / Featured in Digital Artists United Edited 9pm Original image has been cropped slightly and contrast adjusted slightly. No other enhancements. MCN:CEWWM-NCE4K-L98V7
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