Gal in Tree (yes, I suck at titles, bite me!) - Central Parl - Mid July

Last one for today, folks!

The gal is the picture is my little sis. She's 8. We'd gone to the park together after a trip at the museum. Lemme tell ya, just as she got into that tree and I took the shot, a park ranger came up and we got into trouble! lol Totally worth it though. You might find it interesting to know that there was an odd, old guy in the background, but I Photoshopped him out. I rarely edit my pics, but I decided he wasn't interesting enough to keep! lol

Until next time,
Tuma

P.S. I think this signature is even harder to find, but not too hard. Can you do it? :)

Rainbow of Flowers - Central Park - Mid July

Hey again!

Here's photo number 2 for today.

The following photo was also taken in Central Park, on the same day (actually all three of the pictures I'm posting today were taken on same beautiful summer day). What I like best about this is the smorgasbord of color and texture! You have the dark plum leaves in the lower left corner, splash of red whatevers in the upper left, light pink in center, light blue off center right, and plain green in the upper right.

Later,
Tuma

*P.S. Can you find my signature in this one? xD*

Flower Close up - Central Park - Mid July

Hello World!

It's been a while, but as you can see I'm still alive and kicking...barely. School is totally KICKING (and yes, it had to be both capitalized and italicized!) my ass! Who knew being an Education major would be so tough. I mean our own high school teachers never seemed too impressive, right?Who would have thunk that they'd gone through four years of hell?

Anyway, on to business. Semi-new photos. New as in you've never seen them before (DUH), but they've been sitting on my hard drive forever. Finally got around to small edits and copyrighting them bad boys.

Below is a closeup of a pink flower I shot at Central Park (I love that place!). I'm no botanist, so I have no clue what type of flower, I just know that it's pretty and pink (my fave color). And the shot is what I believe to be a good one. The color of the flower is sharp and bright and nicely focused and the unfocused background helps to enhance it. The shadows are also a nice touch, I think.

Also, I don't know if you'll notice or not, but I've started blending my signature (i.e copyright) into the photos, so that you have look hard for them. I figured this way, they don't distract from the image. Can you find it in this one? Not too hard, just think green. ^__^

As always, comments and critics are welcome!

Laters,
Tuma

*Two more photos to share after this one, at least that's the plan*

A couple of written dabbles: Loneliness & Chains

Below are a couple of quick written dabbles I wrote when I feeling a bit down. I don't quite know what to do with them--whether or not to build upon them or leave them as they are. In the end, I figured I'd just post them up here.

When dreams cease to be enough to sustain me and the loneliness becomes too much to bear… 

When the tears fall unguarded and the fragile glue no longer hold together the pieces of my heart… 

Do I give up on this colorless world and find my own shades of happiness in a different realm?

This one is really short and I really like the language usage, but I can't see where to go with it. So, it's been sitting on my hard drive for quite a while.

I wish I could break free of these chains that bind me.

I wish I could get rid of the pain in my heart.

If only I could fulfill all of these unfulfilled desires…

If only I could be liberated.

I’m lost in a sea of conflicting emotions and I pray to be saved.

Is happiness possible or is it an improbability?

Will I ever be the one to make decisions about my life and how I choose to live it?

Or will I forever remain a puppet on barb-wire strings?

Strings that cut and bleed, each time I try to defy the puppeteers.

Cuts that bleed and hurt as I try to go my own way.

Hurting and a broken heart as I try to be true to me.

A Broken heart and a living death because I’m starting to tire from the fight…

Death –have finally given up.

This one is longer, but I feel as if it doesn't flow quite right. I don't know how or where to make any changes though. As you can see, poetry isn't really my forte. I'm more of a prose kind of gal. ^___^

Anyway, until next time. I still have quite a bit of pictures I'd like to share and I'll get to them soon!

Love,
Tuma

Statues–White Plains, NY.

Hello All!

I know, I know. It’s been FOREVER since I last posted any new pics. That’s not to say I haven’t been taking photos, because that’s IMPOSSIBLE. Just a little busy with a teeny bit of laziness thrown in. lol

Without further adieu, some sculpture/statues I found while wandering in downtown White Plains after work one day.

 

 

Expect more soon! I took a bunch of flower shots that I can’t wait to share! WHOO HOO!

Love,

Tuma

Life was Simpler as a Kid.

This is something I randomly wrote a couple of months ago. LOL It's kinds weird and funny, at least to me anyway. Please do comment and let me know what you think. Thankies!

Life was a lot simpler as a kid. Wouldn’t you all agree? It’s a happier time because you haven’t yet realized how truly fucked life is. Mom and dad love one another and everyone’s really happy despite the fact that dad’s having an affair with his really hot secretary. Boys are practically non-existent, like a rare species of bird barely beeping on your radar. They don’t make good playmates, except the occasionally smaller-than- the-others who is actually fun to play with because he likes dolls too and lets you be the dad when you play house. The boys who tease and bully him are doing so only because they’re stupid and cooties make them do weird things.

Hearst Tower - NYC

 

Author’s Note: Think of this as a funky apartment building, even though it’s the Hearst Tower in NYC. I’ve always had an interest in other people’s home life. I’m curious about the things that happen behind other’s close doors. Do the siblings fight as much as I do with mine? Do the parents get along or do they fight? Etc etc. I guess you could say, I’m just nosy as hell! Below is the first of a series of dabbles I'm planning on writing about. We'll see if I actually get to all of 'em! ^____^ Enjoy as always. And please do comment.

Room 102: Father comes home from work and finds his small children are home all alone.

He turns the key and unlocks the door, shouldering his way in, hands full of his briefcase and a bag of treats for the children. As soon as he steps inside, he feels that something is wrong. The silence is out of place for a home with 3 children, ages two, five and six. The usual sounds of Liz finishing up dinner, Kate playing house with her dolls, Mike having a wild police chase with his matchbox cars and Sammie tottering to greet his “da da” aren’t present. A strange and sudden fear grips his heart as he drops his bags at the door and begins calling their names. “Liz… Katie, where are you darling?” “Michael… Sam, can you boys hear me?” With each repetition of their names, his anxiety quickly transforms to panic, making it harder to draw a breath. Suddenly, he stops and sharply turns his head. He’s heard something…a muffled sniffle coming from the Master bedroom. He slowly makes his way inside, straining to hear something… anything, as he stands still in the center of the room. There, he hears it again. The muffled sound of someone afraid of being heard is coming from the walk-in closet. He walks over cautiously with one hand outstretched to grab hold of the knob and slowly inches the door open. The sight revealed to him, is one that grabs him by the heart and squeezes painfully. His Kate, his Mike and his Sam—are huddled together on the floor of the closet with tear-tracks staining each of their beautiful faces. “D-daddy,” his oldest Kate says brokenly. “Mommy… mommy left”. And she begins to cry, her little brothers following her lead. And that’s when he notices the vastness of the half-empty closet open before him. As his children cry and his own tender heart breaks, he comes to the realization that the large partly empty closet, in which the four of them are huddled, is filling up—with the sorrow of children losing their mother and a man losing his wife, the confusion and anger of her leaving without a word, the fear of something having happened to the kids, the love he has for his children and the strength to go on because of that love.