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theotherpages · 11 months

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Do Androids Dream of Fractal Sheep?

My first attempts at getting an AI engine to generate fractal flames. Post-processed using Topaz Gigapizel to enhance resolution and PSP to add color depth and local contrast. More to come.

--Steve

#fractal #fractalart #nftart #nfts #NFT #nftartist #midjourney #AI #aiart

#fractal #fractalart #nft #nfts #ndtart #nftartist #midjourney #ai #aiaart #the other pages #theotherpages.org

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954food · 2 years

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Dough Zone

We were recommended to try Dough Zone for dim sum in Seattle Chinatown - our regular place there is Harbor City (followed by Fuji Bakery.)

It was crowded, and there was a wait, but they had a good queue system and the food was quite good. A very popular place.

One cautionary note - make sure you scan the right Q-code if you park in the parking lot. One is for the street parking only.

#dough zone #dim sum #chinese #fusion #chinatown #seattle #food #cuisine #954food #the other pages #theotherpages.org #mod #trendy

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954photo · 2 years

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Steller, not Stellar

Steller's Jays on the slopes of Mount Rainier National Park.

Near Narada Falls, where the snow cover was still very deep in places and icy conditions made it hard to venture very far down the trails.

With forage being limited so far, they were looking hard for food.

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954sunset · 2 years

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August Sunset

Everglades Atlantic Trailhead, Coral Springs, Florida

#sunset #954sunset #the other pages #theotherpages.org #florida #everglades #august #summer #swelter

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954music · 3 years

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Bee-utifil Late Bloomers

Late season blooms at Park of the Roses, Worthington, Ohio

This was early in the morning, so there is still some morning dew on some of these. The best one, I think is this bee sleeping in a sunflower. Note the fine drops of dew clinging to the hairs on his back. --Steve

#landscaping #blooms #garden #roses #park of roses #kansas #worthington #ohio #fall #autumn #tulips #bee #leaf #the other pages #theotherpages.org #nature #autumn mood

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konmarkimageswords · 4 years

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There Will Come Soft Rains

(War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Meadowlarks

In the silver light after a storm,

Under dripping boughs of bright new green,

I take the low path to hear the meadowlarks

Alone and high-hearted as if I were a queen.

What have I to fear in life or death

Who have known three things: the kiss in the night,

The white flying joy when a song is born,

And meadowlarks whistling in silver light.

The Voice

Atoms as old as stars,

Mutation on mutation,

Millions and millions of cells

Dividing yet still the same,

From air and changing earth,

From ancient Eastern rivers,

From turquoise tropic seas,

Unto myself I came.

My spirit like my flesh

Sprang from a thousand sources,

From cave-man, hunter and shepherd,

From Karnak, Cyprus, Rome;

The living thoughts in me

Spring from dead men and women,

Forgotten time out of mind

And many as bubbles of foam.

Here for a moment's space

Into the light out of darkness,

I come and they come with me

Finding words with my breath;

From the wisdom of many life-times

I hear them cry: "Forever

Seek for Beauty, she only

Fights with man against Death!"

The New Moon

Day, you have bruised and beaten me,

As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,

Beaten my body, bruised my soul,

Left me nothing lovely or whole --

Yet I have wrested a gift from you,

Day that dies in dusky blue:

For suddenly over the factories

I saw a moon in the cloudy seas --

A wisp of beauty all alone

In a world as hard and gray as stone --

Oh who could be bitter and want to die

When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?

A Prayer

When I am dying, let me know

That I loved the blowing snow

Although it stung like whips;

That I loved all lovely things

And I tried to take their stings

With gay unembittered lips;

That I loved with all my strength,

To my soul's full depth and length,

Careless if my heart must break,

That I sang as children sing

Fitting tunes to everything,

Loving life for its own sake.

If Death is Kind

Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,

We will come back to earth some fragrant night,

And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending

Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.

We will come down at night to these resounding beaches

And the long gentle thunder of the sea,

Here for a single hour in the wide starlight

We shall be happy, for the dead are free.

The Tree

Oh to be free of myself,

With nothing left to remember,

To have my heart as bare

As a tree in December;

Resting, as a tree rests

After its leaves are gone,

Waiting no more for a rain at night

Nor for the red at dawn;

But still, oh so still

While the winds come and go,

With no more fear of the hard frost

Or the bright burden of snow;

And heedless, heedless

If anyone pass and see

On the white page of the sky

Its thin black tracery.

If I must go

If I must go to heaven's end

Climbing the ages like a stair,

Be near me and forever bend

With the same eyes above me there;

Time will fly past us like leaves flying,

We shall not heed, for we shall be

Beyond living, beyond dying,

Knowing and known unchangeably.

Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) was an American lyric poet. Some of her work anticipated modern feminist verse and the intimate, autobiographical style known as confessional poetry. A large number of Teasdale's poems deal with love and death. Many of the speakers in her lyrics are women who face the death or desertion of a loved one. They also face the fact of their own mortality with disillusionment, but not as cynics. Teasdale associated moral and spiritual beauty with the harmonies of the natural world. An extraordinarily sensitive, almost reclusive, woman, Teasdale ended her life by suicide at the age of 48.

https://allpoetry.com/Sara-Teasdale

https://poets.org/poet/sara-teasdale

https://www.poemhunter.com/sara-teasdale/

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/sara-teasdale

https://theotherpages.org/poems/poem-st.html#teasdale

http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/sara_teasdale/poems

https://www.theotherpages.org/poems/books/teasdale/flame01.html

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/1024

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theotherpages · 5 months

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Dragonfly in a Phosphorescent World

Today's Dose of Unreality. Created using MidJourney AI with post in PSP and Topaz.

#theotherpages.org #the other pages #art #ai art #ai #ai artwork #midjourney #nft #nftart

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theotherpages · 11 months

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Today's Dose of Nature

The Helliconia (Zebra Longwings) and White Peacock butterflies are thick in the yard this month. Our passion vines are growing well (favorite host plants) and the Firebush and Milkweed Vine and Spanish Needles provide plenty of nectar. Spanish Shawl, Ixora, Plumeria, Cuban Buttercup, and plenty of other nectar sources are also blooming.

--Steve

#theotherpages.org #the other pages #florida #nature #butterflies #environment #native plants #gardening #naturephotography

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theotherpages · 6 months

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#poetry #theotherpages.org #the other pages #poet #poems #fall #autumn #october

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theotherpages · 10 months

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Today's Dose of Nature: Pearson Metropark in Oregon, Ohio, US

Squirrel, Canadian Geese and adolescents, and wildflowers at Pearson Metropark. Cottonwoods were seeding out (a lot) so everything has a fuzzy feel to it.

--Steve

#the other pages #theotherpages.org #nature #wildlife #hiking #ohio #environment #summer

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theotherpages · 11 months

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Today's Dose of Nature

Seagull, Snowy Egret, Male and Female Ruddy Turnstones.

From the south end of Lido Key, Sarasota, Florida, US.

--Steve

#theotherpages.org #the other pages #florida #nature #beach #birds #birding #sea birds #environment #sarasota #lido key #wildlife

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theotherpages · 9 months

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Oldest Residents

(C) S.L.Spanoudis 7/7/2023

In the glass case in the hall, My menagerie of memories, There are myriad curiosities, But perhaps none more curious than Two of its oldest residents: A trilobite and a brachiopod -- Two of many ancient fossils I carved from steep quarry cliffs As a child, dangling dangerously Above aquamarine waters, Many, many meters below. Had she had any glimpse Of what I was doing, My late mother would have Doubtless have had a cow, As the saying goes. These two creatures, their fossil Shells turned black and filled With gray limestone sediment From the ancient seafloor, Waited half a billion years For me to find them, And chisel them away from The surrounding stone And bring them once more Into the sun. Creatures That passed from the light, So long ago that they Were as ancient to the dinosaurs As the oldest dinosaurs are to us. Beings that scuttled about Beneath the seas, before There were trees or plants On any continent, before The continents themselves took on any Shape we would recognize today. Imagine two small objects that can nest Comfortably in the palm of your hand Having such permanence. Imagine two forms of life that Roamed the seas for two hundred And fifty million years. Creatures for whom the entirety Of human existence -- Every life that has ever been lived By anything even vaguely human, Is less than the blink of an eye. It is enough to make me feel Very small by comparison. And It makes everything else In this room -- actually, everything else On the planet ever created By mankind -- seem fragile and Ephemeral by comparison. I put them gently back in their case And spend the rest of the day Trying to think smaller, simpler thoughts.

#poetry #theotherpages.org #the other pages #poet #poems #nature #paleontology #fossils #fossil hunting

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theotherpages · 10 months

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