WHY is this tagged Indian? Just WHY??
Because the ignorant girl who tagged it that way (it’s neither her in the photo nor her who took it, judging from the Google search-by-image results which show it’s been extensively posted and reposted all over the world with no credit that I could find) probably thinks anything that looks like turquoise jewelry — such as that tacky hunk of what’s more likely blue-dyed howlite on the pictured woman’s hand — is “Indian.”
And while actual Native-made silver-and-turquoise jewelry does exist, albeit much rarer than mass-produced crap that’s sold for a fraction of what silversmiths’ work (whether Native or otherwise) commands? I’m sure at least some of that mass-produced crap is made with either stone mined out of land that was stolen from indigenous* people, designs stolen from Native artists, or both.
So sure, those chunky rings on display in this hopelessly tacky photo might come from Native sources… pretty sure that isn’t what the fan of “boho” “hipster” “fashion” meant.
* A lot of the real turquoise, real-stone-that-isn’t-turquoise, and real-stone-dyed-to-look-like-turquoise comes from places other than the Americas, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the land it’s mined from wasn’t stolen from indigenous people from somewhere else in the world, such as has been happening in Tibet for decades.
Not far from Tibet, there’s also some turquoise mined in north India, though as I understand it those mines aren’t commercially profitable and most of what comes out stays in the south- to central-Asia region; but it is possible that the stone is thus Indian, if in fact it’s turquoise at all.
I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll be glad to give away one of my steampunk super heart necklaces free to one person who reblogs this!
The rules are the usual:
You can only reblog once, no creating fake accounts. It has to be a reblog; likes do not count. You have to be willing to surrender your address in order for me to mail it to you. And I’ll decide at the end of April who gets the heart. :3
Edit: Since so many people are asking where they can get one, I thought I’d bring light to the fact that the “source” link will take you to my Etsy shop where you can purchase one, if you’re interested. Thank you guys for all the reblogs. I’m pretty much stunned.
So gorgeous, even if I am reblogging this more for my followers’ sakes than in hopes I’d get the free one; my stupidly-oversensitive skin won’t tolerate any alloy with that much copper in it, alas.
If I were going to buy anything from OcularFracture — that’s her Etsy shop — it would probably be either the Forest Ember heart pendant:
I’ve always been fascinated by color-changing stones, whether they’re pleochroic, chatoyant, or have another type of schiller. The gold standard of stones that turn completely different colors depending on the type of light they’re viewed under is alexandrite, which, in the highest-quality examples, shifts from a vivid emerald green to a glowing ruby red — not unlike the effect in these pendants, which feature iridescent inclusions, as well.
Then again, considering how forgetful I am, how much my dexterity fails me at times, and how convinced our kitty is that absolutely anything on the floor is a toy for her to play with… maybe I’d opt instead for the Unbreakable Heart:
Its play of color may be subtler than the Forest Ember, but that’s not always a bad thing.
Best of luck to everyone hoping to win the giveaway pendant… and consider buying yourself one, and/or one to give as a gift, even if you don’t win! (I’m giving a purchase serious consideration, myself.) And do note that both the Steampunk Super Heart (larger, the one being given away) and the Steampunk Clockwork Heart (standard size) pendants come in your choice of three colours:
A purple mix of Elbaite, Lepidolite, Albite.
Elbaite is the long, rosy-plum crystal through the middle of the cluster. It’s a form of tourmaline, which is recognizable by the vertical grooves virtually always present on natural tourmaline crystals. Some forms of tourmaline are considered “gemstone quality” when the piece is transparent and free of inclusions or other internal flaws, but it remains relatively uncommon in fine jewelry.
Albite is the white stone surroounding the elbaite, and seems to have formed very fine crystals in this example.
Lepidolite is the purple crusted over both the other minerals in this specimen. It’s one of my favorite stones, but unfortunately rarely photographs well (even this photo isn’t doing it any justice) and is uncommon outside of specialist venues — either mineral collectors’ or those catering to customers interested in the healing properties ascribed to some crystals. Not only is lepidolite fairly uncommon, it’s also both soft and brittle, making it very difficult to cut, carve or polish, and very susceptible to chipping, scratches and even cracking apart once processed. Part of the mica family, it gains its sparkle from leaf-thin-cleaved reflective surfaces; but the source of its most attractive feature is also what makes lepidolite so fragile.
The typical hue of lepidolite ranges from orchid-pink through lilac to soft violet; deep violet specimens are rare, and in all honesty I’ve never seen an example so purple (closer to blue than to red) as Mr. Mauthner’s above.
This spherical specimen, carved and polished by Rob Lavinsky of irocks.com, is similar to one I own, and the piece of rough beside it demonstrates what’s usually the darkest color seen in lepidolite, a plummish, medium-dark violet:
And the hue and crystal size of this next specimen — also owned and photographed by Rob Lavinsky — are closer to what’s seen in the average lepidolite formation, pale lilac that approaches pink in places. (The presence of blue-green tourmaline is not so common, however, nor is the size of the piece.) Light reflecting off some of the many small faces of individual lepidolite crystals, which are aligned randomly with respect to one another, produces the sparkle effect:
Talented lapidary artists can transform a rough hunk of lepidolite into a gleaming stone that seems to be made entirely of lilac and/or lavender glitter. The experience of seeing it in person, being able to watch the shifting shimmer as the piece is turned and light catches on ts myriad facets, can only be hinted at by still photographs.
Peacock Rock, Macro¹
Gosh, I wonder why they call this mineral “Peacock Rock”? Also called “Peacock ore”, this bornite specimen displays the iridescence popular to collectors. The glowing blues and blue-violet colors predominate in this specimen I own. When there is a lot of copper in the mineral (up to 63%), the colors really shine in sunlight. It is found in several well-known deposits in the world, with Arizona being one of them. For more information, check out this website, the Minerals Zone, for Bornite [aka] Copper Iron Sulfide Cu5FeS4.
There are so many large copper mine areas in Arizona, so this is easy to find here.
The area of this photo is focused on about 1/2” square of the specimen which is about 5” long and weighs about 1/2 pound.
ɴοτε ₁: The word macro in the title “Peacock Rock, Macro” refers to macrophotography, not image macros.
ɴοτε ₂: ”[…]” indicates where I snipped out the sections of their image description that cobalt123 quoted from other sources, since otherwise the attributions could have become overly confusing.
This brings back memories! I bought my first “peacock ore” specimen on a primary-school field trip to a science museum, where the gift shop had pebble-sized examples of a variety of visually-interesting minerals glued onto cardstock printed with the name of each specimen. (Do they still do that…?) The chunk in cobalt123’s photo is larger than any I’ve had, though I did once have a piece of a different variety of copper ore almost that large. I love the bokeh near the edges of this photo; the sequin-like effect really enhances the sparkle of the crisply-focused center.
On another note…
Somewhere along the reblog line between eccentricity and 13thmoon, Tumblr user <ohheeeeeeey> — whose username I deliberately did not linkify — set the “Clicking this photo links to” field to go to their own Tumblr, apparently thinking their desire for pageviews trumped people further down the line being able to trace the source of the image. This is douchey. Do not do it. Leave credit information where you find it!
Instead of leaving it there, I replaced the link to ohhe…ey’s Tumblr with a direct link to the larger version of cobalt123’s photo. That’s usually what I expect to get when I click on an image in someone else’s Tumblr — that or the post permalink; it can be hard to predict, sometimes, where the nine zillion different Tumblr layouts will put the links to post-view, image-view, notes, like, reblog, etc.
Two “Tree of Life” suncatchers made by the incredibly talented Amalia Kouvalis.
The ‘background’ of each suncatcher is a slice of agate, a variety of quartz known for its concentric rings of varying translucence and opacity, and often of varying colors, as well. (Agate takes certain dyes very well, and most brightly-colored agate rings have been dyed, but it is possible for even quite vivid hues to be natural.) The trees were crafted from wire twisted together, and each suncatcher also features a second single crystal clasped within its frame… Ms. Kouvalis (aka 13thmoon)’s own tags on this post include ‘citrine’, which is a usually-transparent yellow-to-golden-brown variety of quartz. The backlighting makes it somewhat tricky to be certain, but it’s at least possible that the crystals incorporated into the designs of both the pink-and-violet and the gold-and-green suncatcher are citrines.
Also, these two works of art are gorgeous, if that isn’t stating the obvious overmuch. X˒Þ
Dankish (aka the photographer who actually took this):
Rila National Park, Bulgaria… And in case you’re wondering — Tim Burton is one of my favourite film directors :)
nightmare-desert only posted this photograph.
nightmare-desert has excellent taste in landscape-photography appreciation, but execrable habits in crediting (or rather not crediting) the people who made those photographs available for strangers on the internet to appreciate.
nightmare-desert does not deserve to be credited for this post.
It took me all of less than five minutes to find the real source for this image. (With many images all it takes is going to Google Image Search, clicking the camera icon in the search box to select “Search by image”, pasting in the URL of the image you found on Tumblr, and picking out which of the copies in “More Sizes” view is the original.) We need to do better, Tumblrers. We need to stop just reblogging things we come across that are missing attribution to their creators. The fact that someone else posted it with incorrect credit — or no credit at all — is no excuse to continue sending their post along like a chain letter.
Sometimes I can’t find sources for things I want to post or reblog; that’s going to happen sometimes. But we owe it to the people who make the things that delight us to give them credit. Plus, if you know where to find the source of an awesome post, you can often find even more awesome stuff by the same creator. It’s in everyone’s best interest to give credit for photos, artwork, writing, poetry, videos, music and every other kind of creative work that can be found on Tumblr, whenever it’s possible to do so.
Click here, or on the image above, for the full-size (1024x683) copy, which shows the detail much better — the inline version on Tumblr’s servers is only 500 pixels wide and may be stretched on your screen, causing pixelation and/or fuzziness.
And now, finally, it’s time for my feelings about the actual photo itself:
Mmm, moraine eccentrics embedded in the hilly ground underlying a pine forest. I can’t help but recognize this place as home… even though I’ve never been anywhere near Bulgaria, which is where the photo was taken. It’s amazing how much this view resembles similar landscapes in southern New England (USA), where I grew up.
Source: Flickr / dankish
Photograph from The Writing of Stones by Roger Caillois
Hey look, the original post identified where this wonderful photo is from!
Let’s leave that on there instead of deleting credits, okay Tumblrers?
This is picture jasper, and a piece which makes it very easy to see how the stone got that name.
A mountain rises against a dark sky, skirted by a band of vegetation that separates it from the river below, flowing over stones mostly-hidden in its bed, while on the near bank, stones of all sizes, pushed there by the flowing water, wait, dry for now, until the time when the river will rise to cover and shove at them again.
Pareidolia is fascinating, isn’t it? ;·)
On the way home from — finally! — going to pick our new glasses up from the optometrist’s office yesterday afternoon, watching all the spring wildflowers and bud-laden branches and the nearly omnipresent moraine-tumbles of erratic stones (not yet screened from view by the fullness of late-spring or summer or early-autumn foliage) twirling by beside the road, I realized with suddenly visceral yearning that I’m past due to do some re-connecting with nature.
It will have to wait until next week, at the earliest, but I will be going soon to the relatively-accessible park, with either my cane, my walking-stick or my walker (if I had a working wheelchair again, that would be my first choice and also eliminate the need for a ride), and traveling some paths. Touching and smelling and being with riotous greenery and the landscape that underlies it… the peculiar landscape which, composed of low hills alternating with boggy depressions, and clothed in plant life that includes certain endemic species that I know like they’re family, will probably never not feel like home to me.
There’s a reason I have a path tag. And most of the time, second-hand connection with nature is enough. But there are, always, these other times.
Source: Flickr / librarybook
I don’t know where this photograph was taken (the original post is from a journal in some language written with the Cyrillic alphabet) but it reminds me of the Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland: sharp-peaked mountains rising steeply out of the sea, with only a little in the way of level land near the shorelines; and all lushly carpeted in vegetation. The Isle of Skye, in the inner Hebrides, is one of the most beautiful places in the world that I’ve been fortunate enough to visit.