My photographic vision. The world as I have seen it through my camera lens.
Showing posts with label abstract. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abstract. Show all posts
01 December 2014
16 November 2013
04 November 2013
If I remember...
(suitable for full screen view) |
Model: Alice Peneaca (Mandarina Models)
Make-up: Ana Marin
Location Manager: Florin Constantin
Location: Xprim Studio
Etichete:
abstract,
black and white,
fine art,
models,
photographs,
portraits
12 April 2013
Cold As Ice
(suitable for full screen view) |
Model: Alice Peneaca (Mandarina Models)
Make-up: Ana Marin
Location Manager: Florin Constantin
Location: Xprim Studio
Etichete:
abstract,
black and white,
fine art,
models,
photographs,
portraits
20 May 2011
11 April 2010
23 January 2010
Miezul iernii
În paduri trasnesc stejarii! E un ger amar, cumplit!
Stelele par înghetate, cerul pare otelit,
Iar zapada cristalina pe câmpii stralucitoare
Pare-un lan de diamanturi ce scârtâie sub picioare.
Fumuri albe se ridica în vazduhul scânteios
Ca înaltele coloane unui templu maiestos,
Si pe ele se aseaza bolta cerului senina,
Unde luna îsi aprinde farul tainic de lumina.
O! tablou maret, fantastic!... Mii de stele argintii
În nemarginitul templu ard ca vecinice faclii.
Muntii sunt a lui altare, codrii - organe sonoare
Unde crivatul patrunde, scotând note-ngrozitoare.
Totul e în neclintire, fara viata, fara glas;
Nici un zbor în atmosfera, pe zapada - nici un pas;
Dar ce vad?... în raza lunii o fantasma se arata...
E un lup ce se alunga dupa prada-i spaimântata!
Miezul Iernii de Vasile Alecsandri
15 October 2009
14 October 2009
10 September 2009
Brad batran
A fost taiat un brad batrân
Fiindca facea prea multa umbra
Si-atuncea din padurea sumbra
S-a auzit un glas pagân.
O, voi ce-n soare cald traiti
Si-ati rapus stramosul vostru
Sa nu va strice voua rostul
De ce sunteti asa grabiti ?
În anii multi cât el a fost
De-alungul ceasurilor grele
Sub paza crengilor rebele
Multi au aflat un adapost
Mosneagul, stând pe culme drept,
A fost la drum o calauza
Si-n vremea aspra si ursuza
El cu furtunile-a dat piept
Folos aduse cât fu viu
Si mort acuma, când se duce,
Ce alta poate-a va aduce
Decât doar înca un sicriu.
Brad batran
de Nicolae Iorga
Fiindca facea prea multa umbra
Si-atuncea din padurea sumbra
S-a auzit un glas pagân.
O, voi ce-n soare cald traiti
Si-ati rapus stramosul vostru
Sa nu va strice voua rostul
De ce sunteti asa grabiti ?
În anii multi cât el a fost
De-alungul ceasurilor grele
Sub paza crengilor rebele
Multi au aflat un adapost
Mosneagul, stând pe culme drept,
A fost la drum o calauza
Si-n vremea aspra si ursuza
El cu furtunile-a dat piept
Folos aduse cât fu viu
Si mort acuma, când se duce,
Ce alta poate-a va aduce
Decât doar înca un sicriu.
Brad batran
de Nicolae Iorga
09 September 2009
The Path
There are no beaten paths to Glory's height,
There are no rules to compass greatness known;
Each for himself must cleave a path alone,
And press his own way forward in the fight.
Smooth is the way to ease and calm delight,
And soft the road Sloth chooseth for her own;
But he who craves the flower of life full-blown,
Must struggle up in all his armor dight!
What though the burden bear him sorely down
And crush to dust the mountain of his pride,
Oh, then, with strong heart let him still abide;
For rugged is the roadway to renown,
Nor may he hope to gain the envied crown
Till he hath thrust the looming rocks aside.
The Path
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
There are no rules to compass greatness known;
Each for himself must cleave a path alone,
And press his own way forward in the fight.
Smooth is the way to ease and calm delight,
And soft the road Sloth chooseth for her own;
But he who craves the flower of life full-blown,
Must struggle up in all his armor dight!
What though the burden bear him sorely down
And crush to dust the mountain of his pride,
Oh, then, with strong heart let him still abide;
For rugged is the roadway to renown,
Nor may he hope to gain the envied crown
Till he hath thrust the looming rocks aside.
The Path
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
08 September 2009
The Thirst
I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.
Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.
I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.
I Remember You As You Were
by Pablo Neruda
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.
Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.
I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.
I Remember You As You Were
by Pablo Neruda
Etichete:
abstract,
black and white,
fine art,
flowers,
photographs,
poetry
07 September 2009
25 August 2009
Creation
14 August 2009
Bistro Mood
Bere neagra si gretoasa si ghetoasa,
si mai jos tavanul tras de fum
si podeaua mesei, foarte joasa,
si-un alaltaieri fiind acum.
Din departe se aude dingul
al statuilor iesind din ceas,
ciolanoasele olane, zincul
care peste case au ramas.
Beau cu ghiort si-aud vorbire,
berea neagra-mi curge peste barba.
Trupul tau iubitule-n ostire,
de atata vreme este iarba.
Cal as vrea sa fiu, centaur, inorog,
sa m-aplec pe tine flasc,
la un zeu al mortii cand ma rog
si in timpul rugaciunii, cand te pasc.
Carciuma veche
de Nichita Stanescu
13 August 2009
11 August 2009
11 June 2009
Mania zeilor
Astazi (joi, 11 iunie) intre orele 20 si 21:15 natura ne-a oferit un spectacol impresionant. Bucurestiul a fost ocolit de o furtuna spectaculoasa ce a lasat in urma un fenomen straniu plin de lumina si culoare.
Exact ca cizmarul care nu are incaltari asa m-am trezit si eu ca nu am aparatul foto pe langa mine. Pana am reusit sa gasesc unul show-ul astral era pe sfarsite. Am postat macar o fotografie ca sa va faceti o idee...dar partea si mai interesanta deja trecuse.
Nu, nu este prelucrata (a fost doar redimensionata)... Chiar asa a aratat cerul deasupra Bucurestiului pe la orele 20:59. Interesant, nu?
Exact ca cizmarul care nu are incaltari asa m-am trezit si eu ca nu am aparatul foto pe langa mine. Pana am reusit sa gasesc unul show-ul astral era pe sfarsite. Am postat macar o fotografie ca sa va faceti o idee...dar partea si mai interesanta deja trecuse.
Nu, nu este prelucrata (a fost doar redimensionata)... Chiar asa a aratat cerul deasupra Bucurestiului pe la orele 20:59. Interesant, nu?
15 May 2009
Lumini si cuburi
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