Posts Tagged ‘ photography ’

extra lucem nulla salus

December 29, 2009
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extra lucem nulla salus

A Metaphysical Field Guide for Photographers. “Eternity is in love with the productions of time” - so wrote William Blake in "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell," perhaps the best-known literary witness in the West to the reality of nonduality, that rarefied realm where subject and object forever incestuously join. Given a moment’s meditation, one can see in this allegation a fairly accurate description of the art of photography, taking as its substance that utterly indestructible (hence, eternal) medium: light.

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caught in the camera eye-get on with the fascination

December 24, 2009
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caught in the camera eye-get on with the fascination

we live on a half-lit stage, a concrete platform.. waiting it’s grand appearance, it’s ultimate performance.. dark & light, kissed infinitely by the sun. day becomes night, night into day- the anticipation of change, of an end, or a beginning. the cracks in the walls take their last breath, a soft exhale of tired days… we live in a dream of exploding hearts and hot streets. -eileen garcia

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time to repent

December 10, 2009
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time to repent

The many blessings of the Lord=the opportunity to repent! This holiday give the gift of Jesus. Bless all of those around you, make them feel the love of the Lord. Open your loving arms and show these folks the way to redemption. Teach them to repent for all of their sins. Let them know how much Jesus loves them, and how Jesus doesn’t judge them but will punish them if they don’t repent. What better gift to give! “Oh, Jesus, please forgive me for the things I’m about to say I killed you in my mind today I cut you up, I watched you bleed I killed you in my heart today For everything you did to me I murdered you a hundred times I shot you dead and never cried I killed you in my mind today I laughed and watched you die Screaming at me all on fire Liar, liar, liar I buried you with my desire Liar, liar, liar I buried you so far below Liar, liar, liar I hate to see you go Oh, Jesus, please forgive me Oh, Jesus, please forgive me On my knees beside my bed Liar, liar, liar I’m sorry for the

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don’t let boredom take you in

December 3, 2009
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don’t let boredom take you in

Did you know that boredom has several categories? That it can lead to depression? Social problems? Don’t give in to the depths of boredom! improve your brain and memory with these activities: puzzles crosswords simon says fly swatter language games sticky fingers glue inhaling cat chasing jelly beans Boredom can lead to death! Keep yourself focused and alert at all times, or end up in the chains of the of the dead zone. “Boredom is a reactive state of emotion that interprets the condition of one’s environment as wearingly dull due to repetitive, non-existent or tedious stimuli. Boredom stems from a lack of interesting things to see, hear, or do (physically or intellectually) when not in the mood of “doing anything.” (via Wikiquote)

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the happy phantom doesn’t need an umbrella

November 19, 2009
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the happy phantom doesn’t need an umbrella

the happy phantom is not like most ghosts, she loves to sun bathe, dance under the sky, and even take off her garments for a dip in the water. “So if I die today I’ll be the happy phantom And I’ll go wearin’ my naughties like a jewel They’ll be my ticket to the universal opera There’s Judy Garland taking Buddha by the hand And then these seven little men get up to dance They say Confucius does his crossword with a pen I’m still an angel to a girl who hates to sin Oo who… Or will I see you dear and wish I could come back You found a girl that you could truly love again Will you still call for me when she falls asleep Or do we soon forget the things we cannot see Oo who… ” -Tori Amos

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mythical trickster

November 12, 2009
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mythical trickster

“Oh if every angel’s terrible Then why do you watch her sleep You love to hear her sing And wear purple eyes like rings Well the flowers have no scent And the child’s been miscarried Oh every angel’s terrible ” -cocorosie

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that day

October 27, 2009
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that day

That day I was sleepy, all throughout work, into my lunch break. I took my usual vigil outside, by the pond, while reading the current issue of The New Yorker. There were metal benches arranged around the place where the pond erupted back on itself in mild geysers, and the wind sometimes carried the delicious spray back onto the benches, and anyone sitting on them. The red brick was wet there, cumulative testimony to the accidental hydration wrought by the breeze. I was sleepy again because of the previous night’s repeat of my occasional insomnia, and so I was drinking a coke. I plunked the near-empty can on the small table next to the bench, which a particularly upstart gust sought at once to upset and tip over. And nearly a hair’s breadth from reflexively leaning forward to still the tottering can, that day the thought, like a silent stranger, stole into my head: “I want to still this tottering thing because I am still afraid of death.”

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