just found this.. had to share it

[link]





isn't it amazing ???
I just love it x

PEACE [link]

ORANGE ??

HAVE NOTICED THIS BEFORE , JUST RANDOMLY PUT MY FRACTAL on the group and noticed quite a few with similar colours

[link]

does anyone else get this ?

PEACE [link]

HELP PLEASE

After having been away from fractals for ages
I really need some new scripts, I love the effects on some of the new ones but have no idea how to get it...
any links much appreciated
thankyou
Gea x

PEACE [link]

LIFE

well.. my life is a bit confused at the moment.....there seems to be a lot of work needs to be done on my house, things like the kitchen flooring is now twenty years old, it lasted really well .. but now is just so awful I 've got to get it replaced ,I keep trying to work out budgets and priorities, and its a bit stressful...

PEACE [link]

just love this poem....

A Subaltern's Love Song

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father's euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing's the light on your hair.

By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

-- John Betjeman

PEACE [link]

to my friends on here!

I'm very sorry I haven't been on here much,
and have just stopped doing fractals, not sure why... but I know I will come back to them,
but big apologies to anyone that I've neglected

S O R R Y.....

just a bit preoccupied

love to everyone
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

PEACE [link]

theres just been a snow flurry .. very unusual for April.. and its so cold

got a very pretty dress from m&s yesterday, all flowers ,, my MUm has been ill with a midddle ear problem ,
this is when her living in LOndon is so annoying...

my son got me a tripod which looks very ridiculous in my living room window... ohhh dear, not much news ,

OH and a fab photographer I found... just stunning work =manaphoto



PEACE [link]

NOW
[link]

I Have A Dream
by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Delivered on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial
in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963

Complete Audio Of Speech

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"




Back to: DrMartinLutherKingJr.com

PEACE

THIS





AHHHHH

more sun please !

ljust opened the front page of my local free paper and was surprised

to see my photo RAINCLOUDSWOOP,





was there !!! I think it was the wideangle lens which did it, because with that wide beach it really has an impact.. its a free paper [link]

more sun please !

love it

WELL it seems like forever and its only about ten days, I must write a few words, having fun with my camera.. tried some fractals but got impatient....
so for now its pix !!
as for this weather .. I feel like staying in bed under cover !!

more sun please !

love it

well the *SUN* was out today so I went with my friend Heather to Instow and had tea at the Commodore Hotel, its very nice in there, all bright and sparkly.... Instow is the next stop from Bideford, about 2 miles , and it looks on to Appledore, I'm in Northam which also looks on to Appledore from the other side !!
The sea meeting the river is quite stunning , unfortunately the tide was out , so I'll have to go back when the tides in and the boats are bobbing ' around, it is very pretty indeed....

more sun please !

Please look

at this young ladies work,, she is only fifteen and manages to produce some wonderful Art work, showing a wide range of talent and a mature dedication to her Art,
I'm quite sure she will go far ...

[link]






more sun please !

a day makes....

well Anj is back and I'm waiting to see her new work{not really} , just thrilled she's here....have discovered insect photography , a whole new world.....
so exciting... [ I don't mean my photos , other peoples on here ]
I look awful ,, pale and well ill ... SO I bought some fake tan off ebay,,
got to try ,spose... haven't been to the beach.. the lack of sun is getting me down,.
though I really haven't got a good excuse.....

oh and my doves ... oh JOY


"Picasso keeps white doves while in his late life, while living at Villa La Californie, near Cannes, France.

from page 139:,

"White doves shared La Californie's third floor with Picasso, living on the terrace just outside his studio. Cannes and the Mediterranean fill the horizon beyond his garden. These doves,sitting on the tree-branch roost, inspired the artist to paint nearly a dozen canvases of exactly this scene-" " from

the book"Viva Picasso , a Centennial Celebration 1881-1981" by David Douglas"

sun please

had to write something else

well .. the weather hasn't been too favourable for photographs here sort of misty .. foggy.. no light time.. just want some sun for photography...

sun please

Just decided to write this.......

my grandmother was the seventh child of a seventh child, she taught me all that I know about palm reading , tea leaves and used to take me to the spiritualist church when I was six.
this was partly because the mediums used to pick me out for messages, which were usually for my grandmother, ..

around that time I had a best friend and we believed we were fairies, she was fairy rosebud and I was fairy bluebell, we used to meet in the church cemetary , when we were very small, and talk about secret fairy things,, we grew up,
I became very sceptical about ,
well everything, though I used to turn to my Tarot cards in times of trouble to help me sort out things in my life.
They seemed very real to me, and still do, I used the Marseilles pack , and loved it..
so as time went on, I married had two sons, divorced and moved to Devon,
I was by now, remarried and we all moved to this house, which was built in 1862,

I started to have dreams every night of things which had happened as I was dreaming, churches being burnt down, etc. I became so powerfully clairvoyant I didn't know what was happening to me.. and was quite frightened.

so I rang up the reverand Pennington of Hartland church, he came to see me and after a long talk , explaining to me about healing[which I had always done without realising it] and about the spirit,

he told me I had been given a rare gift and to use it wisely.

I started to do Tarot card readings for £2. 50 . , and was inundated ,

I had previously trained as a counsellor in London, which was very good grounding as I used that knowledge for certain situations,

the cards spoke to me, and soon I was seeing well,

virtually everyone in the are, from magistrates, to bankers, to shop assistants and hairdressers, even the occasional mp. ,
I started to become more clairvoyant and my mediumship abilities developed so much , that I was doing services in the spiritualist church,

I can see the afterlife,

and people who had passed on used to manifest in my living room.. in front of relatives,

I started to go on the radio, doing live tarot readings, [the first person to do this on a regular basis] then it was still quite unusual,

I was on the radio up to three times a week for five years,

then I predicted the winning lottery numbers for someone who came to me, using mediumship,

because of my radio/media connections I got hurled in to the limelight and was on the news all over the world, mainly because I used something called psychometry to get the numbers[I held her keyring] and I refused to take any of the millions that she won becuase I didn't believe




it was right as it wa s a gift.....
..
the media was intense,




I worked for the Daily Mirror for a year ,

was on televison , great fun, and became a celeb. it was too much for me I got so exhausted I eventually retreated ,

and spent some years playing myself down, fame is a very strange drug ,

I had become very famous, but with little money, in the end I had to officially stop everything,

but now my friends are all people who want clairvoyance ...
so thats just something I still do..

fame !!!

oh unbelievable .. I just found the most amazing insect photographer, I may give up everything .. please take a look [link]





decided to promote myself .....

if you would like any of these as a mousepad, fridge magnet , postcard or print please feel free to buy......!!!











*FRIDGE MAGNET*

sorry I haven't been replying to anyone ....

Hello , just putting in some of my faves













BRILLIANT PHOTOGRAPHS

sorry I haven't been replying to anyone ....

The light is beautiful in North Devon, Charles Kingsley wrote the Waterbabies in rooms he used to rent at the Royal Hotel*.. in Bideford,...
he described the light as similar to the light in Italy,,, which I have to agree with.. its a lovely golden North light.....


'* The Royal Hotel - Bideford, Devon

Set at the Eastern end of ancient Bideford Bridge, this hotel is associated with the 17th-century Court of Assize, Sir Charles Kingsley, and the D-Day Landings; ideal for a heritage enthusiast.

One of the hotel's most famous features is the oak panelled Kingsley Room, with its ornate sculptured ceiling, named in honour of Charles Kingsley who penned much of his famous novel, Westward Ho!, at the hotel.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Little white town

Bideford was granted a Market Charter in 1272, but real prosperity developed when Bideford became a thriving port trading with the Americas. For approximately 200 years, from 1550, Bideford, under the patronage of the Grenville family thrived on shipbuilding, importing timber from Newfoundland for the shipbuilding industry, the production and export of cloth and, for a time, a large proportion of the imported tobacco coming into England arrived at this port.

It is said that the first commercial cargo carried by Sir Walter Raleigh was unloaded at Bideford Quay. Sir Richard Grenvilles mighty little ship, the "Revenge", sailed from here with a crew of hardy Bideford men who took on a fierce sea battle with fifteen Spanish ships off the Azores in 1591. The Grenvilles were given the Manor of Bideford by Rufus, a successor of William the Conqueror, the town remained in Grenville ownership until acquired by the Corporation in 1711.

A darker claim to fame is the fact that Bideford was home to the last three witches to be executed in Devon in the year 1682


~~~~~~~~

AN excerpt from the book Westward Ho! :

. Above the town the hills close in, cushioned with deep oak woods, through which juts here and there a crag of fern-fringed slate; below they lower, and open more and more in softly rounded knolls, and fertile squares of red and green, till they sink into the wide expanse of hazy flats, rich salt-marshes, and rolling sand-hills, where Torridge joins her sister Taw, and both together flow quietly toward the broad surges of the bar, and the everlasting thunder of the long Atlantic swell. Pleasantly the old town stands there, beneath its soft Italian sky, fanned day and night by the fresh ocean breeze, which forbids alike the keen winter frosts, and the fierce thunder heats of the midland; and pleasantly it has stood there for now, perhaps, eight hundred years since the first Grenville, cousin of the Conqueror, returning from the conquest of South Wales, drew round him trusty Saxon serfs, and free Norse rovers with their golden curls, and dark Silurian Britons from the Swansea shore, and all the mingled blood which still gives to the seaward folk of the next county their strength and intellect, and, even in these levelling days, their peculiar beauty of face and form.......

~~~~
Charles Kingsley

Westward Ho! was named after the book by Charles Kinglsey, then Rudyard Kipling went to school at Westward Ho ! and wrote a book about his adventures there called 'Stalky and co.'

sorry I haven't been replying to anyone ....
about

well just as I was congraulating myself on my new wideangle my internet connection went down, for some reason its taken until now to get fixed... so so pleased to be back.. love to you all !!
amazed to see that I found the westward ho! volcanic basalt on the same day last year ::::::
[link]

IF.....


IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,........................






Rudyard Kipling.. voted the most popular poem of all time !!