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1000 results for “diazona”

  1. A little scare, a quick fix

    Our Sky-Watcher HelioStar 76Ha Solar telescope mounted on the observatory’s permanent mount. The focuser, for those new to these things, is operated via the silver knob seen at the lower end of the telescope. Photo by James Guilford.

    A couple of days ago, during a rather ambitious solar imaging session, the focuser on our Sky-Watcher HelioStar 76Ha telescope failed. And by failure, we mean the specialize diagonal that holds an eyepiece or camera would not stay put! The focuser would barely move the assembly and, once released, the diagonal plus camera would … zzzzzzip! … slide outward as far as it could. As one might expect, that sort of thing makes the telescope worthless. Disappointment? Disaster?

    Contacting Agena Astro, the telescope’s seller, their rep. reminded us that the unit was still under warranty and supplied contact information for Sky-Watcher USA’s Support. Sending off an email describing the issue we waited a reply. “Sounds like the focuser might need to be adjusted,” came the reply a short time later. “Don’t worry we have a lot of adjustment with this focuser.” Adjusting three screws on the focuser, as instructed, and within five minutes the system was working good as new!

    The Sun as it appeared via hydrogen-alpha light on April 24, 2026; as imaged using the Sky-Watcher HelioStar 76Ha Solar telescope, and a ZWO ASI monochrome camera. False color applied. Image by James Guilford.

    So there was a little scare. Excellent support provided by the retailer and the manufacturer. A quick fix. And we were able to take advantage of excellent conditions today, making images of our local star!

    #AgenaAstro #astronomy #heliostar #SkyWatcher #solar #solarAstronomy #sun #telescope
  2. Trumps SA-Schlägertrupp

    Gregory Bovino und Ernst Röhm haben vieles gemeinsam. Die Frisur, die Leidenschaft sich in der Öffentlichkeit in langen, dunklen Mänteln zu präsentieren, Ledergürtel mit “Sam Browne”-Diagonalgurt über die Schulter zu tragen und die Gewalttaten, die durch ihre Organisationen begangen werden, nicht nur zu dulden, sondern zu befeuern, Morde zu rechtfertigen und ihre Täter zu schützen und zu belobigen. Beide waren oder sind Rechtsextremisten faschistoider Prägung und beide pflegen ihre menschenverachtende Geisteshaltung mit solider Doppelmoral. Röhm war schwul und verfolgte Minderheiten, Bovino jagt vermeintlich illegale Migrant:innen und stammt selbst aus einer italienischen Einwandererfamilie. Klaus Theweleits “Männerphantasien” beschreiben, wie derartige Typen Mann die Winzigkeit ihres Selbstbewusstseins und ihrer verkümmerten Gefühle durch Härte, Brutalität und Grausamkeit kompensieren und so dem Nationalsozialismus in Deutschland den Weg bereitet haben.

    Trump und Noem direkt für Freischärler verantwortlich

    Bisher enden damit gewisse Gemeinsamkeiten, aber es ist unverkennbar, dass die ICE-Schlägertruppe Donald Trumps, die illegal und jenseits jeder polizeilicher Befugnisse und Ausbildung Tag und Nacht Menschenjagden in der US-Öffentlichkeit begeht und dabei unschuldige Menschen ermordet, in der direkten Verantwortung des US-Präsidenten und seiner Heimatschutzministerin Kristi Noem. Man sollte sich das Gesicht merken und für den Fall, dass es irgendwann gelingt, ihn vor den Europäischen Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte in Den Haag zu stellen und unbedingt auch die Verantwortlichen beiden Hinterpersonen Trump und Noem als Verantwortliche mit anzuklagen. Beide sind für die illegalen Strukturen verantwortlich, in denen Bovino seine schwersten Straftaten und Menschenrechtsverletzungen begeht und begehen lässt.

    ICE-Schlägertrupps kein legaler Teil der “US-Border Control”

    Seit der zweiten Amtszeit Trumps ist Bovino jenseits rechtsstaatlicher Strukturen durch Trumps Komplizen rasch befördert worden. Im Juni 2025 noch “Kommandeur” der groß angelegten Razzien und von Rechtsverstößen gegen angeblich illegale Migranten in Los Angeles, forderte ihn die Staatsanwältin Michele Beckwith auf, einer gerichtlichen Anordnung Folge zu leisten, was nicht etwa zu seiner, sondern zu ihrer Entlassung führte. Im September agierte er führend weiter in Chicago und Los Angeles, warf u.a. selbst eine Tränengasgranate in eine Gruppe Demonstranten. ICE-Agenten werden auch nicht ausgebildet. Es handelt sich mitnichten um eine Polizeiorganisation, sondern um politische Freischärler ähnlich den Sturmtruppen auf das Capitol nach Trumps Wahlniederlage gegen Joe Biden – den militanten Arm der MAGA-Bewegung. Das wird schon bei ihrer Ausbildung deutlich: Die dauert 47 Tage und Inhalte sind nicht bekannt – warum 47 Tage? Weil Donald Trump der 47. Präsident der Vereinigten Staaten ist.

    Als Operettengeneral Tötungen gebilligt

    Seit Oktober 2025 ist Bovino “Commander-at-Large” also  “Kommandeur mit etwas besonders Großem”, ein Rang ohne jede gesetzliche Grundlage.  Entgegen vieler Berichte in den Medien ist dies kein Teil der Grenzpolizei, sondern diese kriminelle Vereinigung untersteht direkt Ministerin Noem. Bovino war zusammen mit Corey Lewandowski, Trumps ehemaligem Wahlkampfmanager, der Noem dabei beraten hat, an der Umstrukturierung von ICE zu ihrer heutigen Funktion als Schlägertrupp maßgeblich beteiligt. Weder die gewalttätigen Übergriffe und illegalen Festnahmen im vergangenen Jahr, noch die Morde an Renée Good, einer 37-jährigen Autorin und dreifachen Mutter und an Alex Pretti, einem 37jährigen Krankenpfleger, der einer Frau aufhelfen wollte, die von einem ICE-Schläger zu Boden gestoßen worden war, werden bisher von der Justiz verfolgt. Mit “Hut ab” kommentierte Bovino die Tötung  Goods in ihrem Auto und von Pretti behauptete er trotz Videos, die das Gegenteil beweisen, er habe ICE-Agenten angegriffen und “maximalen Schaden” anrichten wollen.

    ICE-Schlägertrupp bei den Olympischen Spielen?

    Gestern kündigten die USA zudem an,  ICE-Agenten sollten zur Olympiade nach Italien reisen, um die dortigen US-Olympiateilnehmer:innen zu “beschützen”. Georgia Meloni sollte frühzeitig klarstellen – und Stimmen aus der Justiz haben es gestern schon getan, dass in Europa diese Form von Staatsterrorismus nicht geduldet wird. Denn auch wenn der Vergleich mit den “Revolutionsgarden” des Iran unverhältnismäßig und angesichts der realen Mordlust der selbsternannten Gotteskrieger unerträglich verharmlosend wäre – warum zögert die EU noch immer die “Revolutionsgarden” auf die offizielle Terrorliste der EU zu setzen, was empfindliche Nachteile für ihre Mitglieder nach sich zöge?  Der Zweck der Terrorliste, die nach Beschlußfassung des Weltsicherheitsrats der UNO 2001 als Nachweis diente, nach 9/11 Terroristen und ihre Geldgeber zu identifizieren und ihre Bewegungsfreiheit und Finanzen einzuschränken, könnte durchaus im Falle einer Eskalation der Rechtsbrüche, die die ICE-Schlägertruppe schon bisher begangen hat und möglicherweise noch in den kommenden vier Jahren von Trumps Amtszeit begehen wird, – und für den Fall, dass die Täter nicht in den USA gerichtlich zur Rechenschaft gezogen werden können, nach internationalem Recht einschlägig werden.  Auch hier zeigt sich: Die EU ist Trumps Gewaltphantasien und denen seiner Komplizen nicht ohne Gegenmittel ausgeliefert.

  3. Hype for the Future 184K: Nebraska City, Nebraska

    Introduction Nebraska City is a community in and the county seat of Otoe County, Nebraska, at the junction of Route 75 and N-2 in the southeastern portion of the state. Within Nebraska City, the city street grid is notable for unique street names largely borrowed from languages such as French or Italian, creating a surprisingly unique flavor for the community. From Central Avenue, routes north are known as “Avenues,” while routes south are “Corsos.” Diagonal routes may also be known […]

    novatopflex.wordpress.com/2026

  4. Hype for the Future 184K: Nebraska City, Nebraska

    Introduction Nebraska City is a community in and the county seat of Otoe County, Nebraska, at the junction of Route 75 and N-2 in the southeastern portion of the state. Within Nebraska City, the city street grid is notable for unique street names largely borrowed from languages such as French or Italian, creating a surprisingly unique flavor for the community. From Central Avenue, routes north are known as “Avenues,” while routes south are “Corsos.” Diagonal routes may also be known […]

    novatopflex.wordpress.com/2026

  5. Hype for the Future 184K: Nebraska City, Nebraska

    Introduction Nebraska City is a community in and the county seat of Otoe County, Nebraska, at the junction of Route 75 and N-2 in the southeastern portion of the state. Within Nebraska City, the city street grid is notable for unique street names largely borrowed from languages such as French or Italian, creating a surprisingly unique flavor for the community. From Central Avenue, routes north are known as “Avenues,” while routes south are “Corsos.” Diagonal routes may also be known […]

    novatopflex.wordpress.com/2026

  6. Hype for the Future 184K: Nebraska City, Nebraska

    Introduction Nebraska City is a community in and the county seat of Otoe County, Nebraska, at the junction of Route 75 and N-2 in the southeastern portion of the state. Within Nebraska City, the city street grid is notable for unique street names largely borrowed from languages such as French or Italian, creating a surprisingly unique flavor for the community. From Central Avenue, routes north are known as “Avenues,” while routes south are “Corsos.” Diagonal routes may also be known […]

    novatopflex.wordpress.com/2026

  7. Hype for the Future 184K: Nebraska City, Nebraska

    Introduction Nebraska City is a community in and the county seat of Otoe County, Nebraska, at the junction of Route 75 and N-2 in the southeastern portion of the state. Within Nebraska City, the city street grid is notable for unique street names largely borrowed from languages such as French or Italian, creating a surprisingly unique flavor for the community. From Central Avenue, routes north are known as “Avenues,” while routes south are “Corsos.” Diagonal routes may also be known […]

    novatopflex.wordpress.com/2026

  8. J'ai enfin upload et rangé toutes les vidéos #minecraft dans un bocal !

    pour ceux qui veulent aller se regarder cette map aventure en diagonale, et/ou suivre ma chaîne youtube, voilà le lien de la playlist :D !

    youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlV

    sur cette chaîne, pour l'instant les rediffusions twitch, prochainement des shorts avec les clips, et peut être d'autres vidéos si je m'essaie au montage !

    #youtube #playlist #letsplay #aventure #solo #carte #skyblock

  9. Revealed: The 10 road signs learner drivers are most likely to be quizzed on

    Researchers used the DVSA’s Safe Driving for Life e‑learning platform to run thousands of mock tests, analysing which questions came up most frequently. The results show a clear pattern of signs that learners are repeatedly asked to identify.

    Below are the 10 most‑asked road signs — with answers moved further down the page to keep the challenge real.

    1.

    A red triangle with a bicycle symbol.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 11.9% of mock tests.

    2.

    A blue rectangular sign showing a bicycle with a vertical line to its right.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 7.2% of tests.

    3.

    A blue circular sign showing a bicycle and two pedestrians holding hands. Scroll down for the answer. Appeared in 7.2% of tests.

    4.

    A blue circular sign showing a number with a red diagonal line through it.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 6.5% of tests.

    5.

    A white rectangular sign with a crossed‑out circular symbol and the words “Zone Ends.”
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 5.7% of tests.

    6.

    An octagonal red sign covered in snow.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 5.1% of tests.

    7.

    A red triangular sign showing a car falling from a ledge into water.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 5% of tests.

    8.

    A blue rectangular sign with a “P” and a car on a platform.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 4.9% of tests.

    9.

    A red triangular sign showing a pedestrian between dashed lines.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 4.8% of tests.

    10.

    A red circular sign showing a motorbike above a car.
    Scroll down for the answer.
    Appeared in 4.8% of tests.

    Why these signs matter

    Mattijs Wijnmalen, CEO of Vignetteswitzerland.com, said:

    “Across the 3,000 mock tests we ran, we found that users were significantly more likely to be asked about certain road signs than others. For example, users were asked to correctly identify the ‘cycle route ahead’ sign nearly twice as often as any other question.”

    He added that while learners should know all road signs, these ten are well worth revising before sitting the real test.

    Answers: Most‑asked road signs

    1. Cycle route ahead
    – Warns road users that there is a cycle route crossing or joining the road ahead.

    2. With‑flow cycle lane
    – Notifies road users of a dedicated cycle lane that goes in the same direction as the traffic.

    3. Route for pedestrians and cyclists
    – Notifies road users of a shared path for both pedestrians and cyclists.

    4. End of minimum speed
    – Notifies road users that the mandatory minimum speed limit shown has ended.

    5. End of controlled parking zone
    – Notifies road users that specific parking restrictions, such as permits or pay and display, no longer apply beyond this point.

    6. Stop
    – Tells road users to come to a complete stop before proceeding.

    7. Quayside or river bank
    – Warns road users of a sharp edge where the road meets water ahead.

    8. Vehicles may park fully on the verge or footway
    – Notifies road users that in this area vehicles are permitted to park fully on the pavement or verge.

    9. Zebra crossing ahead
    – Warns road users of a zebra crossing ahead.

    10. No motor vehicles
    – Motor vehicles, including cars and motorbikes, are not allowed beyond this point.

    More motoring stories

    Councils reject almost every pothole claim
    New figures show drivers across South West Wales are footing the bill for road damage.

    Must‑know winter road rules to avoid £2,500 fines
    The key winter driving laws motorists need to know as temperatures drop.

    Stricter motoring rules coming in 2026
    Drivers warned about major rule changes due to take effect this year.

    Local retailer urges safer driving after speeding data revealed
    A South West Wales dealership calls for caution after new speeding figures emerge.

    EV repair postcode lottery across South West Wales
    Some counties have no certified EV mechanics at all, new analysis shows.

    #drivingTest #DrivingTheoryTest #DVSA #learnerDriver #motoring #roadSigns
  10. Some #singaporeans are well travelled but still so so dumb. The unmissable accent I heard while crossing a regular traffic light along Shanghai's People Square and he turn to his wife and said, "like Shibuya crossing"

    NO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT, the key characteristics of Shibuya crossing is that it goes across diagonally. Dumb dumb dumb.

  11. Some #singaporeans are well travelled but still so so dumb. The unmissable accent I heard while crossing a regular traffic light along Shanghai's People Square and he turn to his wife and said, "like Shibuya crossing"

    NO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT, the key characteristics of Shibuya crossing is that it goes across diagonally. Dumb dumb dumb.

  12. Some #singaporeans are well travelled but still so so dumb. The unmissable accent I heard while crossing a regular traffic light along Shanghai's People Square and he turn to his wife and said, "like Shibuya crossing"

    NO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT, the key characteristics of Shibuya crossing is that it goes across diagonally. Dumb dumb dumb.

  13. Some #singaporeans are well travelled but still so so dumb. The unmissable accent I heard while crossing a regular traffic light along Shanghai's People Square and he turn to his wife and said, "like Shibuya crossing"

    NO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT, the key characteristics of Shibuya crossing is that it goes across diagonally. Dumb dumb dumb.

  14. Watched the "Damsel" movie, mostly because it was named "The Damsel and the Dragon" in the Russian cinema theatres. :drgn_blush_giggle: Sadly, there are no much dragon in the movie. The viewer will see some dragon-like shapes at the start of the movie, when the king and dumb knights were dumb enough to break into the lair to hunt the flying and living B-29 with toothpicks. Obviously, almost all of them died.

    Then, the first 30-40 minutes of the movie are about some hooman things, like princess(es), some prince to marry to, etc. Then, finally (!) after that we will see some parts of the dragon. :drgn_aww: Thankfully, despite of not big enough CGI budget — most of action happens in the dark or foggy environment — the dragon was drawn good enough. It is a western-shaped, well-looking sentinent dragoness, able to speak in English. One minor flaw for me — the artists drawn a diagonal (?) pupils in the dragon's eyes. Looks strange, because predators usually have vertical or round pupils, as I know. But, I'm not a biologist and maybe this is ok :drgn_think:

    The dragoness'es movement and other animation is pretty good, I can't say anything bad about it. The main plot also doesn't include the default trope "bad dragon and innocent hooman, who kills the dragon and celebrates a victory", despite the movie looks like that during first 40-50 minutes. But near the final it shows that it doesn't have "default plot" and the main character (one of the princesses) and the dragoness finally manage to made an agreement and kill all bad and wealthy morons, who fooled both of them.

    Sadly, final scene doesn't fully reveals the story — where the dragoness fly alongside with pricensses ship? On the kingdom of the princess? But where the dragoness will live and what she will do, etc? :drgn_think:

    #dragon #dragonposting #movie #dragoness

  15. Lower Hutt, 1902

    Photograph showing a view of Lower Hutt with Woburn Road on the diagonal.
    Hutt City Libraries via DigitalNZ

    api.digitalnz.org/records/5601

    #Views #WoburnRoad #DigitalNZ #HuttCityLibraries

  16. Lower Hutt, 1902

    Photograph showing a view of Lower Hutt with Woburn Road on the diagonal.
    Hutt City Libraries via DigitalNZ

    api.digitalnz.org/records/5601

    #Views #WoburnRoad #DigitalNZ #HuttCityLibraries

  17. Lower Hutt, 1902

    Photograph showing a view of Lower Hutt with Woburn Road on the diagonal.
    Hutt City Libraries via DigitalNZ

    api.digitalnz.org/records/5601

    #Views #WoburnRoad #DigitalNZ #HuttCityLibraries

  18. Lower Hutt, 1902

    Photograph showing a view of Lower Hutt with Woburn Road on the diagonal.
    Hutt City Libraries via DigitalNZ

    api.digitalnz.org/records/5601

    #Views #WoburnRoad #DigitalNZ #HuttCityLibraries

  19. Lower Hutt, 1902

    Photograph showing a view of Lower Hutt with Woburn Road on the diagonal.
    Hutt City Libraries via DigitalNZ

    api.digitalnz.org/records/5601

    #Views #WoburnRoad #DigitalNZ #HuttCityLibraries

  20. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious”*…

    Henri Matisse, View of Notre Dame, 1914, oil on canvas, 58 x 37 ⅛ in, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

    Eminent art critic and historian Hal Foster has started what will be a four-part series in The Paris Review on looking at– and seeing– art…

    Many of us look at art in the company of others; I have done so with a close friend, off and on, for five decades. We meet at a museum, wander around, settle on a painting (or, rather, it settles on us), look, talk, look more, talk more. We attend to the work and to each other; we enter its world together. Only recently and rarely have we written up our reactions, which we do individually. A testament to our friendship, this writing is also a tribute to the art, to the discursivity that informs it and the sociability that it allows. 

    Paintings call out to us in myriad ways. My friend and I are most drawn to pictures that are reflexive about looking, that anticipate it, that sharpen it, that alter our habits of seeing. This may be a Modernist criterion, but it hardly disqualifies older art; we have ranged as far back as Early Netherlandish painting. In this selection, though, I focus on pictures that date from the past hundred and fifty years. (For better or worse, that’s also my academic field.)  

    My aim in this exercise isn’t to tease out context, which is almost too present in wall texts today. Immediacy may be a mirage, but I try to come to my chosen works as directly as possible. It’s not that I ignore the texts on the walls; I just don’t get stuck there. I don’t pretend to see with a “period eye,” as Michael Baxandall called the attempt to perceive as historical viewers may have. Contextual information may often be necessary, but I keep it at a useful minimum. And though I sometimes get speculative, that’s part of the fun. In fact, one purpose of these studies is to be loosened from my scholarly superego (which isn’t very strong, in any case). I want to demystify the viewing of art a little, not to deskill it exactly, but to suggest that anyone can do it. Ignorant Art History is a big tent.

    Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different—distant—light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: An Introduction

    The first of his short essays, on the Matisse pictured above, just dropped…

    … As we approach this painting, we have little idea of what it depicts, or whether it depicts anything at all. A washy blue covers the entire surface unevenly, and its space is traversed by several black vectors. A vertical line stretches the length of the canvas on the far right, where it intersects with two horizontal lines that cut across the center of the picture. In the lower half of the painting, three diagonal lines run roughly parallel to one another, also toward the right.

    The main motif floats in the top third of the painting. Outlined heavily in black, its interior is made up of the same blue as elsewhere except for one white blotch and a few black planes, scratched to reveal the white underneath. Three thin, white planes also appear in the interior, each crossed with a horizontal black stripe; the central plane divides the space in two. 

    All this is hard to sort out, and two more pieces on the right—a green blob beside a black one—only add to the puzzle. It is a complicated painting, but its complication is borne of simplicity. Completed in 1914, at the beginning of World War I, it is an austere work in an austere time. 

    The title offers a kind of lifeline: View of Notre Dame. But what kind of view and from where? And what are all the black lines? Neither abstract nor representational, the painting requires a shift in our way of looking: its elements are less images of things than signs for them. 

    We know that the Notre-Dame sits on the western end of the Île de la Cité in Paris. So the three diagonals might signify the quai along the Left Bank, the low path alongside the Seine, and the great river. The two horizontal lines then read as a bridge over the Seine, and the slight curve underneath them as its arched support. Finally, the long vertical line serves as the near edge of the quai, or perhaps of the very building from which the view is taken. The angles suggest that we look down on the scene from a Left Bank apartment several floors up. The overall blue signifies air and water where that seems appropriate, and anything else (or nothing at all) where it does not. 

    How does the squarish motif convey the famous cathedral? If the bisected shape suggests the two great towers, the white plane between them might evoke the rose window. Since we view the cathedral from the Left Bank, it appears turned away from us slightly, its south side more exposed. If the black areas register the sides of the building in deep shadow, the white ones might signify the play of light across the facade. And the blobs in green and black? The green could be a plant, and the black its shadow. 

    The pieces don’t add up completely or neatly. But then signification is about signaling-just-enough rather than representing-in-full. Here, seeing is guesswork. It often is elsewhere, too; we just don’t acknowledge it. Sometimes a sign doesn’t signify and sometimes it suggests more than one thing. The diagonals evoke both the quai and the river; the black areas convey a material thing here and an immaterial shadow there. 

    Around this time, Matisse kept a studio above the quai Saint-Michel. Might View of Notre Dame double as a view of the interior from which it was painted? In that case, the Paris cathedral is also a French window, with blue sky and white clouds seen in or through the glass; the green shrub is also a plant on the sill; the lines of the bridge are also the molding in the room; and—who knows?—the diagonals of the bank are also the easel on which this very painting was produced… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: View of Notre Dame

    The remaining three installments will drop weekly into May.

    * “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” – Albert Einstein

    ###

    As we appreciate art, we might recall that on this date in 1808, at the outbreak of the Peninsular War, the people of Madrid rose up in rebellion against French occupation. 

    In 1814, Francisco de Goya memorialized the event in his painting The Second of May 1808.

    source

    #art #artCriticism #artHistory #culture #Goya #HalFoster #history #Madrid #Matisse #Napoleon #PeninsularWar #TheChargeOfTheMamelukes #TheIgnorantArtHistorian #TheSecondOfMay1808
  21. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious”*…

    Henri Matisse, View of Notre Dame, 1914, oil on canvas, 58 x 37 ⅛ in, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

    Eminent art critic and historian Hal Foster has started what will be a four-part series in The Paris Review on looking at– and seeing– art…

    Many of us look at art in the company of others; I have done so with a close friend, off and on, for five decades. We meet at a museum, wander around, settle on a painting (or, rather, it settles on us), look, talk, look more, talk more. We attend to the work and to each other; we enter its world together. Only recently and rarely have we written up our reactions, which we do individually. A testament to our friendship, this writing is also a tribute to the art, to the discursivity that informs it and the sociability that it allows. 

    Paintings call out to us in myriad ways. My friend and I are most drawn to pictures that are reflexive about looking, that anticipate it, that sharpen it, that alter our habits of seeing. This may be a Modernist criterion, but it hardly disqualifies older art; we have ranged as far back as Early Netherlandish painting. In this selection, though, I focus on pictures that date from the past hundred and fifty years. (For better or worse, that’s also my academic field.)  

    My aim in this exercise isn’t to tease out context, which is almost too present in wall texts today. Immediacy may be a mirage, but I try to come to my chosen works as directly as possible. It’s not that I ignore the texts on the walls; I just don’t get stuck there. I don’t pretend to see with a “period eye,” as Michael Baxandall called the attempt to perceive as historical viewers may have. Contextual information may often be necessary, but I keep it at a useful minimum. And though I sometimes get speculative, that’s part of the fun. In fact, one purpose of these studies is to be loosened from my scholarly superego (which isn’t very strong, in any case). I want to demystify the viewing of art a little, not to deskill it exactly, but to suggest that anyone can do it. Ignorant Art History is a big tent.

    Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different—distant—light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: An Introduction

    The first of his short essays, on the Matisse pictured above, just dropped…

    … As we approach this painting, we have little idea of what it depicts, or whether it depicts anything at all. A washy blue covers the entire surface unevenly, and its space is traversed by several black vectors. A vertical line stretches the length of the canvas on the far right, where it intersects with two horizontal lines that cut across the center of the picture. In the lower half of the painting, three diagonal lines run roughly parallel to one another, also toward the right.

    The main motif floats in the top third of the painting. Outlined heavily in black, its interior is made up of the same blue as elsewhere except for one white blotch and a few black planes, scratched to reveal the white underneath. Three thin, white planes also appear in the interior, each crossed with a horizontal black stripe; the central plane divides the space in two. 

    All this is hard to sort out, and two more pieces on the right—a green blob beside a black one—only add to the puzzle. It is a complicated painting, but its complication is borne of simplicity. Completed in 1914, at the beginning of World War I, it is an austere work in an austere time. 

    The title offers a kind of lifeline: View of Notre Dame. But what kind of view and from where? And what are all the black lines? Neither abstract nor representational, the painting requires a shift in our way of looking: its elements are less images of things than signs for them. 

    We know that the Notre-Dame sits on the western end of the Île de la Cité in Paris. So the three diagonals might signify the quai along the Left Bank, the low path alongside the Seine, and the great river. The two horizontal lines then read as a bridge over the Seine, and the slight curve underneath them as its arched support. Finally, the long vertical line serves as the near edge of the quai, or perhaps of the very building from which the view is taken. The angles suggest that we look down on the scene from a Left Bank apartment several floors up. The overall blue signifies air and water where that seems appropriate, and anything else (or nothing at all) where it does not. 

    How does the squarish motif convey the famous cathedral? If the bisected shape suggests the two great towers, the white plane between them might evoke the rose window. Since we view the cathedral from the Left Bank, it appears turned away from us slightly, its south side more exposed. If the black areas register the sides of the building in deep shadow, the white ones might signify the play of light across the facade. And the blobs in green and black? The green could be a plant, and the black its shadow. 

    The pieces don’t add up completely or neatly. But then signification is about signaling-just-enough rather than representing-in-full. Here, seeing is guesswork. It often is elsewhere, too; we just don’t acknowledge it. Sometimes a sign doesn’t signify and sometimes it suggests more than one thing. The diagonals evoke both the quai and the river; the black areas convey a material thing here and an immaterial shadow there. 

    Around this time, Matisse kept a studio above the quai Saint-Michel. Might View of Notre Dame double as a view of the interior from which it was painted? In that case, the Paris cathedral is also a French window, with blue sky and white clouds seen in or through the glass; the green shrub is also a plant on the sill; the lines of the bridge are also the molding in the room; and—who knows?—the diagonals of the bank are also the easel on which this very painting was produced… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: View of Notre Dame

    The remaining three installments will drop weekly into May.

    * “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” – Albert Einstein

    ###

    As we appreciate art, we might recall that on this date in 1808, at the outbreak of the Peninsular War, the people of Madrid rose up in rebellion against French occupation. 

    In 1814, Francisco de Goya memorialized the event in his painting The Second of May 1808.

    source

    #art #artCriticism #artHistory #culture #Goya #HalFoster #history #Madrid #Matisse #Napoleon #PeninsularWar #TheChargeOfTheMamelukes #TheIgnorantArtHistorian #TheSecondOfMay1808
  22. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious”*…

    Henri Matisse, View of Notre Dame, 1914, oil on canvas, 58 x 37 ⅛ in, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

    Eminent art critic and historian Hal Foster has started what will be a four-part series in The Paris Review on looking at– and seeing– art…

    Many of us look at art in the company of others; I have done so with a close friend, off and on, for five decades. We meet at a museum, wander around, settle on a painting (or, rather, it settles on us), look, talk, look more, talk more. We attend to the work and to each other; we enter its world together. Only recently and rarely have we written up our reactions, which we do individually. A testament to our friendship, this writing is also a tribute to the art, to the discursivity that informs it and the sociability that it allows. 

    Paintings call out to us in myriad ways. My friend and I are most drawn to pictures that are reflexive about looking, that anticipate it, that sharpen it, that alter our habits of seeing. This may be a Modernist criterion, but it hardly disqualifies older art; we have ranged as far back as Early Netherlandish painting. In this selection, though, I focus on pictures that date from the past hundred and fifty years. (For better or worse, that’s also my academic field.)  

    My aim in this exercise isn’t to tease out context, which is almost too present in wall texts today. Immediacy may be a mirage, but I try to come to my chosen works as directly as possible. It’s not that I ignore the texts on the walls; I just don’t get stuck there. I don’t pretend to see with a “period eye,” as Michael Baxandall called the attempt to perceive as historical viewers may have. Contextual information may often be necessary, but I keep it at a useful minimum. And though I sometimes get speculative, that’s part of the fun. In fact, one purpose of these studies is to be loosened from my scholarly superego (which isn’t very strong, in any case). I want to demystify the viewing of art a little, not to deskill it exactly, but to suggest that anyone can do it. Ignorant Art History is a big tent.

    Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different—distant—light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: An Introduction

    The first of his short essays, on the Matisse pictured above, just dropped…

    … As we approach this painting, we have little idea of what it depicts, or whether it depicts anything at all. A washy blue covers the entire surface unevenly, and its space is traversed by several black vectors. A vertical line stretches the length of the canvas on the far right, where it intersects with two horizontal lines that cut across the center of the picture. In the lower half of the painting, three diagonal lines run roughly parallel to one another, also toward the right.

    The main motif floats in the top third of the painting. Outlined heavily in black, its interior is made up of the same blue as elsewhere except for one white blotch and a few black planes, scratched to reveal the white underneath. Three thin, white planes also appear in the interior, each crossed with a horizontal black stripe; the central plane divides the space in two. 

    All this is hard to sort out, and two more pieces on the right—a green blob beside a black one—only add to the puzzle. It is a complicated painting, but its complication is borne of simplicity. Completed in 1914, at the beginning of World War I, it is an austere work in an austere time. 

    The title offers a kind of lifeline: View of Notre Dame. But what kind of view and from where? And what are all the black lines? Neither abstract nor representational, the painting requires a shift in our way of looking: its elements are less images of things than signs for them. 

    We know that the Notre-Dame sits on the western end of the Île de la Cité in Paris. So the three diagonals might signify the quai along the Left Bank, the low path alongside the Seine, and the great river. The two horizontal lines then read as a bridge over the Seine, and the slight curve underneath them as its arched support. Finally, the long vertical line serves as the near edge of the quai, or perhaps of the very building from which the view is taken. The angles suggest that we look down on the scene from a Left Bank apartment several floors up. The overall blue signifies air and water where that seems appropriate, and anything else (or nothing at all) where it does not. 

    How does the squarish motif convey the famous cathedral? If the bisected shape suggests the two great towers, the white plane between them might evoke the rose window. Since we view the cathedral from the Left Bank, it appears turned away from us slightly, its south side more exposed. If the black areas register the sides of the building in deep shadow, the white ones might signify the play of light across the facade. And the blobs in green and black? The green could be a plant, and the black its shadow. 

    The pieces don’t add up completely or neatly. But then signification is about signaling-just-enough rather than representing-in-full. Here, seeing is guesswork. It often is elsewhere, too; we just don’t acknowledge it. Sometimes a sign doesn’t signify and sometimes it suggests more than one thing. The diagonals evoke both the quai and the river; the black areas convey a material thing here and an immaterial shadow there. 

    Around this time, Matisse kept a studio above the quai Saint-Michel. Might View of Notre Dame double as a view of the interior from which it was painted? In that case, the Paris cathedral is also a French window, with blue sky and white clouds seen in or through the glass; the green shrub is also a plant on the sill; the lines of the bridge are also the molding in the room; and—who knows?—the diagonals of the bank are also the easel on which this very painting was produced… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: View of Notre Dame

    The remaining three installments will drop weekly into May.

    * “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” – Albert Einstein

    ###

    As we appreciate art, we might recall that on this date in 1808, at the outbreak of the Peninsular War, the people of Madrid rose up in rebellion against French occupation. 

    In 1814, Francisco de Goya memorialized the event in his painting The Second of May 1808.

    source

    #art #artCriticism #artHistory #culture #Goya #HalFoster #history #Madrid #Matisse #Napoleon #PeninsularWar #TheChargeOfTheMamelukes #TheIgnorantArtHistorian #TheSecondOfMay1808
  23. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious”*…

    Henri Matisse, View of Notre Dame, 1914, oil on canvas, 58 x 37 ⅛ in, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

    Eminent art critic and historian Hal Foster has started what will be a four-part series in The Paris Review on looking at– and seeing– art…

    Many of us look at art in the company of others; I have done so with a close friend, off and on, for five decades. We meet at a museum, wander around, settle on a painting (or, rather, it settles on us), look, talk, look more, talk more. We attend to the work and to each other; we enter its world together. Only recently and rarely have we written up our reactions, which we do individually. A testament to our friendship, this writing is also a tribute to the art, to the discursivity that informs it and the sociability that it allows. 

    Paintings call out to us in myriad ways. My friend and I are most drawn to pictures that are reflexive about looking, that anticipate it, that sharpen it, that alter our habits of seeing. This may be a Modernist criterion, but it hardly disqualifies older art; we have ranged as far back as Early Netherlandish painting. In this selection, though, I focus on pictures that date from the past hundred and fifty years. (For better or worse, that’s also my academic field.)  

    My aim in this exercise isn’t to tease out context, which is almost too present in wall texts today. Immediacy may be a mirage, but I try to come to my chosen works as directly as possible. It’s not that I ignore the texts on the walls; I just don’t get stuck there. I don’t pretend to see with a “period eye,” as Michael Baxandall called the attempt to perceive as historical viewers may have. Contextual information may often be necessary, but I keep it at a useful minimum. And though I sometimes get speculative, that’s part of the fun. In fact, one purpose of these studies is to be loosened from my scholarly superego (which isn’t very strong, in any case). I want to demystify the viewing of art a little, not to deskill it exactly, but to suggest that anyone can do it. Ignorant Art History is a big tent.

    Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different—distant—light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: An Introduction

    The first of his short essays, on the Matisse pictured above, just dropped…

    … As we approach this painting, we have little idea of what it depicts, or whether it depicts anything at all. A washy blue covers the entire surface unevenly, and its space is traversed by several black vectors. A vertical line stretches the length of the canvas on the far right, where it intersects with two horizontal lines that cut across the center of the picture. In the lower half of the painting, three diagonal lines run roughly parallel to one another, also toward the right.

    The main motif floats in the top third of the painting. Outlined heavily in black, its interior is made up of the same blue as elsewhere except for one white blotch and a few black planes, scratched to reveal the white underneath. Three thin, white planes also appear in the interior, each crossed with a horizontal black stripe; the central plane divides the space in two. 

    All this is hard to sort out, and two more pieces on the right—a green blob beside a black one—only add to the puzzle. It is a complicated painting, but its complication is borne of simplicity. Completed in 1914, at the beginning of World War I, it is an austere work in an austere time. 

    The title offers a kind of lifeline: View of Notre Dame. But what kind of view and from where? And what are all the black lines? Neither abstract nor representational, the painting requires a shift in our way of looking: its elements are less images of things than signs for them. 

    We know that the Notre-Dame sits on the western end of the Île de la Cité in Paris. So the three diagonals might signify the quai along the Left Bank, the low path alongside the Seine, and the great river. The two horizontal lines then read as a bridge over the Seine, and the slight curve underneath them as its arched support. Finally, the long vertical line serves as the near edge of the quai, or perhaps of the very building from which the view is taken. The angles suggest that we look down on the scene from a Left Bank apartment several floors up. The overall blue signifies air and water where that seems appropriate, and anything else (or nothing at all) where it does not. 

    How does the squarish motif convey the famous cathedral? If the bisected shape suggests the two great towers, the white plane between them might evoke the rose window. Since we view the cathedral from the Left Bank, it appears turned away from us slightly, its south side more exposed. If the black areas register the sides of the building in deep shadow, the white ones might signify the play of light across the facade. And the blobs in green and black? The green could be a plant, and the black its shadow. 

    The pieces don’t add up completely or neatly. But then signification is about signaling-just-enough rather than representing-in-full. Here, seeing is guesswork. It often is elsewhere, too; we just don’t acknowledge it. Sometimes a sign doesn’t signify and sometimes it suggests more than one thing. The diagonals evoke both the quai and the river; the black areas convey a material thing here and an immaterial shadow there. 

    Around this time, Matisse kept a studio above the quai Saint-Michel. Might View of Notre Dame double as a view of the interior from which it was painted? In that case, the Paris cathedral is also a French window, with blue sky and white clouds seen in or through the glass; the green shrub is also a plant on the sill; the lines of the bridge are also the molding in the room; and—who knows?—the diagonals of the bank are also the easel on which this very painting was produced… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: View of Notre Dame

    The remaining three installments will drop weekly into May.

    * “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” – Albert Einstein

    ###

    As we appreciate art, we might recall that on this date in 1808, at the outbreak of the Peninsular War, the people of Madrid rose up in rebellion against French occupation. 

    In 1814, Francisco de Goya memorialized the event in his painting The Second of May 1808.

    source

    #art #artCriticism #artHistory #culture #Goya #HalFoster #history #Madrid #Matisse #Napoleon #PeninsularWar #TheChargeOfTheMamelukes #TheIgnorantArtHistorian #TheSecondOfMay1808
  24. “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious”*…

    Henri Matisse, View of Notre Dame, 1914, oil on canvas, 58 x 37 ⅛ in, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

    Eminent art critic and historian Hal Foster has started what will be a four-part series in The Paris Review on looking at– and seeing– art…

    Many of us look at art in the company of others; I have done so with a close friend, off and on, for five decades. We meet at a museum, wander around, settle on a painting (or, rather, it settles on us), look, talk, look more, talk more. We attend to the work and to each other; we enter its world together. Only recently and rarely have we written up our reactions, which we do individually. A testament to our friendship, this writing is also a tribute to the art, to the discursivity that informs it and the sociability that it allows. 

    Paintings call out to us in myriad ways. My friend and I are most drawn to pictures that are reflexive about looking, that anticipate it, that sharpen it, that alter our habits of seeing. This may be a Modernist criterion, but it hardly disqualifies older art; we have ranged as far back as Early Netherlandish painting. In this selection, though, I focus on pictures that date from the past hundred and fifty years. (For better or worse, that’s also my academic field.)  

    My aim in this exercise isn’t to tease out context, which is almost too present in wall texts today. Immediacy may be a mirage, but I try to come to my chosen works as directly as possible. It’s not that I ignore the texts on the walls; I just don’t get stuck there. I don’t pretend to see with a “period eye,” as Michael Baxandall called the attempt to perceive as historical viewers may have. Contextual information may often be necessary, but I keep it at a useful minimum. And though I sometimes get speculative, that’s part of the fun. In fact, one purpose of these studies is to be loosened from my scholarly superego (which isn’t very strong, in any case). I want to demystify the viewing of art a little, not to deskill it exactly, but to suggest that anyone can do it. Ignorant Art History is a big tent.

    Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different—distant—light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: An Introduction

    The first of his short essays, on the Matisse pictured above, just dropped…

    … As we approach this painting, we have little idea of what it depicts, or whether it depicts anything at all. A washy blue covers the entire surface unevenly, and its space is traversed by several black vectors. A vertical line stretches the length of the canvas on the far right, where it intersects with two horizontal lines that cut across the center of the picture. In the lower half of the painting, three diagonal lines run roughly parallel to one another, also toward the right.

    The main motif floats in the top third of the painting. Outlined heavily in black, its interior is made up of the same blue as elsewhere except for one white blotch and a few black planes, scratched to reveal the white underneath. Three thin, white planes also appear in the interior, each crossed with a horizontal black stripe; the central plane divides the space in two. 

    All this is hard to sort out, and two more pieces on the right—a green blob beside a black one—only add to the puzzle. It is a complicated painting, but its complication is borne of simplicity. Completed in 1914, at the beginning of World War I, it is an austere work in an austere time. 

    The title offers a kind of lifeline: View of Notre Dame. But what kind of view and from where? And what are all the black lines? Neither abstract nor representational, the painting requires a shift in our way of looking: its elements are less images of things than signs for them. 

    We know that the Notre-Dame sits on the western end of the Île de la Cité in Paris. So the three diagonals might signify the quai along the Left Bank, the low path alongside the Seine, and the great river. The two horizontal lines then read as a bridge over the Seine, and the slight curve underneath them as its arched support. Finally, the long vertical line serves as the near edge of the quai, or perhaps of the very building from which the view is taken. The angles suggest that we look down on the scene from a Left Bank apartment several floors up. The overall blue signifies air and water where that seems appropriate, and anything else (or nothing at all) where it does not. 

    How does the squarish motif convey the famous cathedral? If the bisected shape suggests the two great towers, the white plane between them might evoke the rose window. Since we view the cathedral from the Left Bank, it appears turned away from us slightly, its south side more exposed. If the black areas register the sides of the building in deep shadow, the white ones might signify the play of light across the facade. And the blobs in green and black? The green could be a plant, and the black its shadow. 

    The pieces don’t add up completely or neatly. But then signification is about signaling-just-enough rather than representing-in-full. Here, seeing is guesswork. It often is elsewhere, too; we just don’t acknowledge it. Sometimes a sign doesn’t signify and sometimes it suggests more than one thing. The diagonals evoke both the quai and the river; the black areas convey a material thing here and an immaterial shadow there. 

    Around this time, Matisse kept a studio above the quai Saint-Michel. Might View of Notre Dame double as a view of the interior from which it was painted? In that case, the Paris cathedral is also a French window, with blue sky and white clouds seen in or through the glass; the green shrub is also a plant on the sill; the lines of the bridge are also the molding in the room; and—who knows?—the diagonals of the bank are also the easel on which this very painting was produced… 

    – “The Ignorant Art Historian: View of Notre Dame

    The remaining three installments will drop weekly into May.

    * “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” – Albert Einstein

    ###

    As we appreciate art, we might recall that on this date in 1808, at the outbreak of the Peninsular War, the people of Madrid rose up in rebellion against French occupation. 

    In 1814, Francisco de Goya memorialized the event in his painting The Second of May 1808.

    source

    #art #artCriticism #artHistory #culture #Goya #HalFoster #history #Madrid #Matisse #Napoleon #PeninsularWar #TheChargeOfTheMamelukes #TheIgnorantArtHistorian #TheSecondOfMay1808
  25. @josh0 Well when you're building wormholes across the galaxy AND between timelines on a weekly basis, you're bound to accidentally rearrange a continent every so often

    #Stargate #SG1

  26. #ScribesAndMakers 2026.03.30 —Do birds ever feature in your work? Give an example #excerpt.

    The current title I am writing in the reluctance series features a day angel. She has wings, owl patterned with blue and white feathers, but Bolt would take exception if you called her a bird. For a woman, it's a slur. It's an SF story, so her being able to fly requires more than pure muscle power. She calls it gravitics. This is very 1st draft and it needs work. I still have to check my aeronautical terminology, but let's take flight anyway!

    I heard a familiar whistle, not Boss Mead or one of his shadowy bodyguards, either. Never was. Clink. Jangle. I glanced at the pavement. Three silver coins spun where the cement met the dirty formerly absolute white wall.

    I grinned. I flicked my left wing up with a waveguide twist. Immediate anti-gravitic thrust let me throw my feet upward and my torso ahead, cartwheeling with six limbs in a way a saint with all her strength and a piddling four limbs could never do, or most non-athletic feathers. I snatched the coins as I spun past. The bonus conserved momentum let me launch myself forward. Flapping for all I had to level out, I rocketed along the centerline of the road until I could bank west, sideways, into a slot alley. Wingtipping the walls with my crazy velocity—my feathers made a zzzzz sound—tilted diagonally, left primaries warped to the left wall, the rights toward the right, I sent uncompensated gravity torque pushing against those walls. Raw thrust kept me from dropping more than a handswidth per heartbeat to the cobblestones, still frighteningly quickly toward my left wing tip as I accelerated toward an almost to distant exit. Leaves, dirt, and cans shot away in spirals or as if kicked, banging walls or jumping a couple stories upwards.

    A lost memory now found surfaced from when I was twelve: I remembered side-flying that got me suspended, trying to embarrass a girl classmate—Sage Peaches was it?—who'd bullied me before I fledged. Had the boy blocking the alley between buildings not dove to the pavement, nothing but feathers would have remained when we would have collided, but flap that was fun! I remembered screaming in glee as I buzz cut the vice headmaster's hair, unaware of my impending disaster.

    I stormed over a parked wagon; a load of recycled newspapers snapped and roared as they got sucked aloft behind me. The alley opened up to a dome, across a city street, with light traffic but thankfully no busses or lorries, that often had an upsweep thermal. It did today. I rolled in the turbulence greeting me, back-flapped and pulled up against all the gees I could stand and shot up like a firework easily twenty stories, flapping for all I was worth, barely clearing the curving away wall, squealing in glee until I shed my momentum and leveled off without stalling.

    I might be approaching 30, but flying risky maneuvers were the water of life, and my racing heart agreed. Skill or chance, skill prevailed for me. These days, little else fun was guaranteed me but flight. It didn't hurt as I kept my muscles tuned at Sky Dancer's Gym. I banked toward the Residency. A 10º horizon trim set my glide path, feathers buzzing nicely as my racing heart slowed. The News Building tower to its southeast hove into view above the skyscrapers and rooftop trees between.

    [Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]

    #BoostingIsSharing

    #gender #fiction #writer #author
    photographer chef cooking
    #cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
    #writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
    #RSdiscussion
    #RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
    #microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory

  27. #Unterwegs, am #Morgen -
    voll in die Sonne fotografiert:

    #Morgensonne hinter
    Feld und Wald -
    wirft ihre #Schatten voraus -

    Diagonale am #Himmel
    und rechtwinkliger Schatten
    am Boden...

    3/5

    #Sonne #Natur #nature #sun
    #FeldUndWald #morning #sky
    #field #wood #fieldandwood

  28. Modern/Contemporary für Mittelstufe & Fortgeschrittene immer dienstags

    Tanzloft, Tuesday, May 12 at 08:00 PM GMT+2

    Für alle, die Spaß am Modern Dance haben, bietet mein fortlaufender Unterricht die perfekte Mischung aus Technik, Ausdruck und persönlichem Stil. In einer freundlichen und motivierenden Atmosphäre kannst du zusammen mit Gleichgesinnten deine Begeisterung für den modernen Tanz ausleben und kontinuierlich vertiefen. Durch die regelmäßigen Kurseinheiten hast du die Möglichkeit, dich langfristig zu entwickeln und dein Können stetig zu verbessern.

    Was ist Modern Dance?

    Der moderne Tanz, auch als Contemporary Dance bekannt, ist eine faszinierende Form künstlerischen Ausdrucks, die sich von traditionellen Tanzstilen abhebt und eine einzigartige Synthese aus verschiedenen Bewegungsformen darstellt. Die Bewegungen im modernen Tanz sind oft fließend, organisch und abstrakt. TänzerInnen nutzen den gesamten Körper, einschließlich unkonventioneller Bewegungen wie Bodenarbeit, improvisierten Schritten und unregelmäßigen Formen. Diese Freiheit ermöglicht es zu tanzen, ohne auf traditionelle Ballettpositionen oder -techniken beschränkt zu sein. Ein weiteres charakteristisches Merkmal des modernen Tanzes ist die enge Verbindung zur Musik, oft wird mit zeitgenössischer Musik gearbeitet. 

    Kursinhalte: In der Stunde erwartet dich ein modernes Warm-up (Pliés, Tendues, Swings, Floorwork etc.), Muskelkräftigung, Stretching und Diagonalen. Mit Begeisterung, Geduld und Hingabe arbeiten wir an der Technik und bereiten den Körper optimal auf die abschließende Choreografie vor, während du Woche für Woche Neues lernst. Mein Ziel ist es, Freude zu erleben, loszulassen und gleichzeitig gemeinsam Fortschritte zu erzielen!

    Kurszeiten: Der Unterricht findet immer dienstags von 20:00 Uhr bis 21:30 Uhr im Tanzloft statt.

    Teilnahmeinformationen: Der Einstieg ist jederzeit möglich. Interessierte können gerne eine Probestunde zum Ausprobieren einzeln buchen, diese wird im Falle einer Anmeldung mit dem ersten Monatsbeitrag verrechnet. Es wird keine Anmeldegebühr berechnet. Die Teilnehmerzahl ist begrenzt, sodass du in der Gruppe optimal gefördert wirst. Da der Kurs fortlaufend ist, profitierst du von einer kontinuierlichen Entwicklung und hast immer wieder die Möglichkeit, dich neuen Herausforderungen zu stellen.

    Kursgebühren:

    • Monatsbeitrag (90min): 56 €

    • Einzelne Probestunde: 18 €

    Kontakt: Für weitere Informationen und Anmeldung stehe ich gerne zur Verfügung. Schreib mir einfach per E-Mail an tanzen(at)danielamax.de . Ich freue mich auf deine Nachricht!

    keepkarlsruheboring.org/event/