Monthly Archives: May 2014
The Millennium Bridge across the Thames has only a few of these ‘love padlocks’ attached to it. This one caught my eye. From parents to a lost daughter.
For more padlocks on Helsinki’s Bridge of Love, click here.
Funny sort of word when you look at it…
Anyway, I’ve a relative who married in a beautiful setting last week; private Tuscan villa set in verdant hills with cottages and private chapel… you get the gist. It’s a small (and undoubtedly expensive) venue and naturally numbers were limited to close friends and relatives only i.e. not me! And that’s all fine yannow, but I would really like to see some pictures. And it’s here that social media and the smartphone and people wanting to stuff the tricks back in the box seem to collide: there are no photos. Well there are, but they must be the official ones.
I’ve read about these new wedding edicts lately. How brides and grooms don’t like poor quality mobile shots of them gurning posted all over the old FaceAche, before they’ve even hit the dance floor. And how they don’t want their official shots ruined by guests waving smart phones or tablets in all directions. How they want their guests to be in the moment of the thing, rather than stuck behind a screen. So when photography is banned at the wedding, I can take the point. On the other hand, how many lovely moments get missed from the perspective of Not the Official Photographer? It’s a tricky one. If it were me, I think I’d trust my guests’ judgement. Probably.
It should be added, for the sake of context, that in this case, one of the parties is a professional photographer, so one can understand the need for strict editorial control. And naturally I wish them a long and happy marriage, in front of, and behind the camera.
*and as if by magic (which the blog truly is) I pop over to FB to find one beautiful picture, released by the groom in which everyone looks fantastic.
I meant to post these (some of my mudlark findings) a while ago. Life got in the way, as it is wont to do. I seem to have a problem accepting what it is physically possible to achieve given the constraints, if not set by every click of the clock, then at least those presented by the fact that the world does turn from night into day and round again.
My health seems not to have been so good this year, which sometimes puts the skids under me. It’s frustrating, but maybe I am paying the price of not stopping. Genetically, it must be said that my inheritance is to not know how. I’m not moaning, just musing. It would be churlish to wish that there were more hours in the day, and I probably can’t go any faster. Perhaps the best thing to do is just accept that it is what it is and there’s nothing I, or anybody else, can do about it.
In my case, I wish I was good at shopping. As everyone knows: I am rubbish at it. Still, there’s always this song to groove to after looking at literally thousands of products, with NO SUCCESS. If you’ve had a birthday recently, all I can offer on the gift front is: I am behind. Sorry!
I submitted some work to a beautiful site called Visual Verse
The brief is ‘One image, one hour, 50-500 words’ There are some wonderful images and thought-provoking words. Mine is here.
Sometimes, I don’t know what I am doing and I have to take a sidelong glance at what comes out. The hour that the brief stipulates gives you freedom to explore the image and get lost in yourself.
The science of ultimate human performance has a bad name–literally. “Flow” is the term used by researchers for optimal states of consciousness, those peak moments of total absorption where self vanishes, time flies, and all aspects of performance go through the roof.
Unfortunately, even though research in this area holds considerable promise, unless you’re studying toilet bowl dynamics or lubrication theory, “flow” doesn’t sound like a sober scientific topic. And who hasn’t used the term colloquially, thinking that “going with the flow” was more hippie holdover than a technical description of actual experience.
Yet, it was University of Chicago psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi who selected this term, and he did so for a reason. In the 1970s, Csikszentmihalyi embarked upon what would soon become one of the largest psychological surveys ever, running around the world asking people about the times in their life when they felt their best and performed their…
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Gracious living: it’s not something I major on, I admit… unless a jug of warmed milk for the coffee this morning counts.
Ungracious living is more my thing, so it was nice to find this on the youngest daughter’s wall this morning. Even better that I could walk on her small patch of bedroom floor without kicking my way through a pile of crap.
It seems that even amongst such domestic disarray a little girl has some room in her heart for romantic and chaotic swirling in purple. Thank goodness for that, although I can claim no credit.