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One liner Wednesday: Alternative dictionary…

Today’s entry in the alternative dictionary is inspired by an icon of glamour, fashion and unfeasible body shape;

“Doldrums” – Barbie’s depressed percussion section.

#1linerWeds

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K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge…

I’m on the road today, heading back up to Sussex to visit friends and family, so I’m hoping that this scheduled post publishes itself on time.

I’ll check in later anyway, to add a link to K’lee’s photo, but until then, here’s my contribution to this week’s prompt; Water. 

These sprinkly sculptures were all made using just a hose pipe, with a garden fence in the background, (plus a side order of digital mucking about, obviously) see what you think…

Here’s K’lee’s photo for the day.

Ok, so now let’s see your wet and wonderful offerings.

Go on, splash out on the Cosmic Photo Challenge.

*****

To get involved with the challenge, post a photo (or several, the more the merrier) to your blog on Monday, add a pingback to this post (or to K’lee’s) and don’t forget to tag your post #CosPhoChal.

Alternatively, add a link to your blog in the comments of either mine or K’lee’s post and we’ll come and check out your entry.

Any and all effects, editing, Photoshop, Instagram, morphing, collages or whatever other post production techniques you fancy are permitted, (in fact, they’re actively encouraged!) so get creative and turn your photos into artworks for the Cosmic Photo Challenge.
#CosPhoChal

 
14 Comments

Posted by on July 25, 2016 in Arts, Photography

 

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Stream of consciousness Sunday…

Due to the fact that we are going away for the next week and today is being spent organising, packing etc, I didn’t think it fair to try and rush the thrilling climax of The Wrong Stuff, so I’m going to delay it until I have time to do it justice.

This may well be during the next few days, or you might have to wait a couple of weeks, but if you haven’t yet got up to speed on Hannah and her increasingly curious adventures, now’s your chance to catch up.

Thank you for your patience.

#SoCS

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Cosmic Photo prompt…

Time for another Friday prompt for your regular Monday edition of K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge and this week it’s my turn to choose the theme.

I’d also like to update you on the scope of the challenge overall, after K’lee and I had a chat about how it was evolving the other day.

We’ve always wanted our collaborative challenge to focus on something more than just straight-from-the-camera images; we want to encourage the artistically-minded amongst you to showcase your optical experiments and fantastical photography, to go wild with editing and photo manipulation software, to make collages, create slideshows, composite images and gifs, to use layering, multiple exposures, black and white, Photoshop, Instagram and whatever else you can get your hands on.

And for those of you who wouldn’t usually muck about with the pristine results of your camera’s view of the world; throw caution to the wind and see what you can do with just a few little tweaks and adjustments, or by adding a simple filter to add extra atmosphere to a dramatic shot.

We want to see your creativity!

And we don’t mind how many photos you post, either. More than one of our contributors already submit wonderfully eclectic selections of pictures each week and it’s a pleasure to see the variety of interpretations, from different perspectives, that the prompts inspire in people.

I’m going to give you a lot of leeway again this week, but then again it’s very specific. The prompt for Monday’s Cosmic Photo Challenge is; Water.

Not just any old liquid; Water. 

H2O. 

That pure life-giving fluid, without which, none of us would be here. The seas, rivers, pools, ponds, lakes, tarns and tributaries of the world have always made wonderful photo-opportunities, but then so have hosepipes, sprinklers, rain, ice, steam, frost and fog. 

All water based, therefore all acceptable subjects for K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge, so choose one, choose all, or think of a completely different way to interpret the Wet Stuff and get involved on Monday. 

*****

To get involved with the challenge, post a photo to your blog on Monday, add a pingback to this post (or to K’lee’s) and don’t forget to tag your post #CosPhoChal.

Alternatively, add a link to your blog in the comments of either mine or K’lee’s post and we’ll come and check out your entry.
Any and all effects, editing, Photoshop, Instagram, morphing, collages or whatever other post production techniques you fancy are permitted, (in fact, they’re actively encouraged!) so get creative and turn your photos into artworks for the Cosmic Photo Challenge.
#CosPhoChal

 
2 Comments

Posted by on July 22, 2016 in Arts, Photography

 

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One liner Wednesday: Alternative dictionary…

It’s been a lovely couple of days, with sunshine, balmy evenings and other, season-appropriate climatic conditions, so this week’s entry in the alternative dictionary is suitably summery in theme;

“Discontent” – Losing one’s frisbee whilst camping.

#1linerWeds

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K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge…

I hope you all had a lovely weekend, but since it’s Monday again, let’s get on with K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge for this week.

K’lee’s prompt on Friday was; Shadows and silhouettes, so I’ve picked a couple of old favourites taken by the river Taw for the silhouettes and two shots of shadows cast by metal furniture on the deck of our local pub.

Here’s a link to K’lee’s images for today.
Now, let’s see what y’all have to offer..

*****

To get involved with the challenge, post a photo to your blog on Monday, add a pingback to this post (or to K’lee’s) and don’t forget to tag your post #CosPhoChal.

Alternatively, add a link to your blog in the comments of either mine or K’lee’s post and we’ll come and check out your entry.

Any and all effects, editing, Photoshop, Instagram, morphing, collages or whatever other post production techniques you fancy are permitted, (in fact, they’re actively encouraged!) so get creative and turn your photos into artworks for the Cosmic Photo Challenge.
#CosPhoChal

 
19 Comments

Posted by on July 18, 2016 in Arts, Blogging, Photography

 

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Stream of consciousness Sunday: The wrong stuff, part thirty three…

If it’s Sunday, then it must be SoCS. So let’s see what Linda G Hill has left us for a prompt this week, to inspire today’s episode of the story which documents Hannah’s trouble with Stuff:

” “if/then.” Begin your post with the word “If.” For bonus points, end your post with a phrase containing the word “then” ” 

If that’s what she wants, then that is what she’ll get…

The Wrong Stuff.
Part thirty three – The noose tightens.

If Hannah was nervous or having second thoughts, Frank couldn’t see any sign of it, as he watched her leaning against the front of the car, smoking a cigarette and gazing at the spectacular view as the sun set behind the hills on the other side of the Avon gorge.

They had been parked in a layby on the outskirts of Bristol for nearly an hour and she’d barely said a word since leaving Marvin’s workshop that afternoon; something of a record for Hannah, who was usually far too chatty for Frank’s social skills to cope with and anyway, their conversations almost always ended up with Hannah taking the piss and Frank sulking, so he had been enjoying the break. But now he was, if not exactly worried, (worrying was another thing Frank’s highly specialised psyche had long ago de-prioritised, as being a waste of its limited resources) then at least he was aware of the need to keep an eye on her. She was a woman of course, thought Frank, you never knew what women were going to do next. Well, he certainly didn’t, and that was what currently mattered to Frank, because it was her plan and he was the one who had to carry it out and that made him…concerned. 

In a professional capacity, you understand.

He would have liked to have been consulted, obviously. He was the Head of Security in this outfit, after all, but the look in her eye when she told him what was going to happen, well, it didn’t seem a good time to question her reasoning, that was all. It’s not like he had a better plan, so Frank had let it be. He just hoped Bronk’s death hadn’t pushed her over the edge; suicide missions were not what Frank had signed up for.

*****

Marvin checked the readout on the power gauge of the main generator and seemed satisfied with what he saw. He muttered something to himself and scribbled a note on the scrap of paper he was holding, adding to a list of figures that would have been meaningless to anyone else, without knowing Marvin’s unique form of personal shorthand. He then returned to the control console and consulted his scrawled calculations as he carefully readjusted the settings, grimacing as Forrester made a renewed assault on the basement door, for all the good it would do him. Before he’d left, Frank had fashioned a device which he had referred to as a “raid lock”, a metal rod attached to the door and jammed into a hole chiseled into the stone floor, making it impossible for anyone to get in without the aid of some serious mechanical assistance.

“You think you can stay in there forever, Calderwood?” shouted Forrester through the stout timbers of the door, “If I have to spend the rest of my life in this primitive shithole, then so be it, but I will kill you if I do, you can depend on that.”

Marvin looked at his watch and realised he couldn’t put it off any longer, it was time to initiate the final stage of Hannah’s plan. Or the final part he would play in it, at least, and he was determined not to let her down. He checked the settings on the console once more and slowly powered down the generator, watching the silvery portal, like a magical mirror suspended in the air, fizzle out at the end of the lab before turning off the arc lights which surrounded the space where it hung.

Marvin looked around one final time, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, then he crossed the basement, stood for a moment to see if his heart was going slow its galloping beat, decided that it probably wasn’t and began climbing the steps to the door.

*****

Hannah got back in the car and looked at Frank, “All clear on what we’re doing, Frank?”, no shake in her voice, no break in eye contact, he thought, that’s good, “Marvin should be letting Forrester in about now, so it won’t be long before this will all be over.” 

He nodded and gave an noncommittal shrug, “One way or another, yeah, fings are gonna end badly for someone.”

“That’s what I’m going to miss about you, Frank, your endless supply of optimism and positivity,” She grinned and a spark of the Hannah that Frank had come to sort-of-admire shone in her eyes for a second, reassuring him somewhat as to her mental state, “but don’t you concern yourself with anything, I’m sure everything is going to go according to plan. We’ve got this far, haven’t we?”

“I’ll give you that.” said Frank, grudgingly, “Me ‘n’ Toby, we reckoned you’d be a quick lunchtime job before we snuck off for a couple of cheeky pints on the way home,” he rubbed his injured arm absently, “and look how that fucking turned out; Toby’s a stiff and I’ve turned into Dr bleedin’ Who.” He shook his head sadly, “It wasn’t like this back in the old days, we didn’t ‘ave no time travelling master criminals back then, it was just yer normal breaking kneecaps, offing the competition; you know, general muscle and doorman type stuff..?”

“I’m not sure that I do, Frank,” said Hannah, favouring him with one of her best sardonic expressions, which was encouraging in itself, “but I’ll accept your professional analysis on the relative merits of your past employment and I can only apologise that your current arrangement isn’t entirely to your liking,” She smiled sweetly at him and patted his arm, “but please feel free to register your feedback with HR at your exit interview.”

“Ha fucking ha,” said Frank, going for grumpy but unable to suppress a crooked grin, “I’ll be wanting a sodding bonus, I’ll tell you that for fuck all.”

“Your severance package will be suitably generous, I’ll be sure to see to that. Now, it’s time we got going, you know what to do.” She climbed out of the car and reached down to pick up the wooden box, the word Stuff just visible, scratched on the side and paused, her hand on the door, “Oh, and Frank,” he looked over at her as he started the engine, “good luck.”

With that, she closed the door, tucked the box under her arm and began to jog up the road in the slowly gathering shadows of dusk, out onto the historic span of the Clifton suspension bridge, for her final showdown with Paul Forrester.

*****

Marvin took a deep breath and banged on the door with his fist, “Can you hear me, Forrester?”

“I’m here, did you think I’d gone away? Forrester replied, a sneer in his voice, “What do you want?”

“If I let you in, what guarantee do I have that you won’t just kill me?” Marvin’s hand rested on Frank’s DIY barricade device, “I want your assurance that neither I, nor my family, are to be harmed or harassed in any way from now on. If you give me your word on that, I will open the door.”

“I have no interest in you or your miserable family anymore, Calderwood,” said Forrester with irritation, “just get me back where I came from and you’ll never see me again.”

Marvin was careful to stay silent for a moment, to let Forrester know he was considering his offer, then said, “Alright Forrester, stand away from the door,” as an afterthought, he added, “and I should warn you that I am armed and I shall not hesitate to shoot if you attempt any treachery.”

“Haha, you’re perfectly safe, Marvin,” laughed Forrester, “I’m only interested in that bitch, Meredith, I won’t try any heroics, don’t worry.”

Marvin pulled on the iron bar as Frank had shown him and, sure enough, the brace easily slid free, allowing him to open the door.

Forrester stood a few feet from the open door, his arms held away from his body in a non-threatening posture, an innocent expression on his face and waited for Marvin to invite him inside. Marvin came out and moved round behind him, gingerly patting his sides in an ineffectual search for weapons, then prodded him towards the doorway with the barrel of his revolver.

They came down the steps into the laboratory and Forrester stopped after a few steps and rounded on Marvin angrily, “What is this, where’s the portal?” he gestured round the dimly lit basement, “If you think you can double cross me, old man…”

“Calm down, Forrester,” said Marvin, in a patient tone, “I had to power down the generator after Miss Meredith returned to her own time, to prevent the feedback coil transponder from overheating.” (Marvin was rather pleased with himself at this piece of improvised techno-babble, especially as Forrester seemed to accept it as an explanation and he watched silently as Marvin went through the start up procedure on the generators) 

“Where did you send them?” he asked, after Marvin finally looked up from the controls and nodded.

“The only place I could send them,” said Marvin, perfectly truthfully, “to my workshop where, I sincerely hope, you left my machines running, when you left to come here.”

“I did,” replied Forrester with a grin that Marvin didn’t like one bit, “and the whole place was heavily guarded by some of my best men, so I’m guessing that she is already dead or, if they know what’s good for them, they’ve saved her for me to…play with, before I kill her.”

Marvin looked at him with unveiled disgust but didn’t respond, he just pointed to the end of the room and threw a switch to turn on the arc lamps, “Go and stand over there, but don’t go past the marker,” he pointed to a rough line painted on the wall and smiled pleasantly, “if you know what’s good for you.

Forrester watched as Marvin turned the power dial on the console and was aware that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he could suddenly smell ozone. The next thing he knew, the rift blinked open in front of him and the same crackling, hissing noise he remembered from the woods filled the room.

“Well, Marvin,” he said raising a hand in the old scientist’s direction, “it’s been a pleasure doing business with you. But now, I fear I must bid you adieu.”

Then Paul Forrester spread his arms and walked into the shimmering, swirling portal for the last time and vanished.

***********

(To be continued (using next week’s prompt)…

#SoCS

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