New FREE Actions From PanosFX.com

Panos over at PanosFX.com has a couple of new FREE Photoshop actions.  I've just tested them quickly on a couple photos and they're rather interesting.

If you play with Photoshop, rush over to his free actions page and grab these, among others.

A Spiral Experiment

Here's an introductory experiment with an idea from Panos at Panosfx.com

Experiment with new PanosFX Photoshop Action

Panos just released an upgraded version of his free curled page Photoshop action.  I combined it with an action from his Book and Box set of actions to get the following result.  I really like the actions Panos produces.

Experiment with Fractalius

Experimenting with a Photoshop plug-in called Fractalius. It has more potential than the examples on the web site show (http://www.redfieldplugins.com/filterFractalius.htm) but can be a bit tricky at first.  Some good examples of what it can do are on the PanosFX Forum together with a short tutorial showing how Fractalius is used with one of the PanosFX actions to create a very nice image.

This was done using two versions of the image modified in Factalius that were blended together with the original image using layer blend modes.  Interesting?

After

Before

Trying out new Actions from Panoxfx.com

Here is my first experiment with the new Photoshop Action set from Panosfx.com

These have a lot of potential for creating interesting ways of displaying pictures.

Be sure to click on the image above to see a larger version.

The Toolmaker

Traditionally people take stock of their lives at New Year's day.  This year I offer the following short story as a stimulus for evaluating what we are doing with our lives. 

THE TOOLMAKER

The old man sat quietly looking at the intricate piece of equipment in his hand.  A toolmaker.

"My life?" he said with  shake of his head.  "What can I tell you of my life?"  He paused, lost in the thoughts and memories.

"I guess you could say this life began when I got my job.  I wanted a job I could devote a lifetime to.  Something useful. Something I could find satisfaction in doing.  Money wasn't that important.

"One day I saw a sign at the factory."  His eyes glowed mistily at the memory.  "It said 'Trainees wanted.  Rewarding career and secure future.'  That was just what I was looking for.  A life of satisfying work.  So I went into the office and filled out the forms.  The competition for jobs must have been stiff because I saw a sign that said, 'Many are called but few are chosen.'

"I guess I'm one of the few 'cause a week later I was 'called' and 'chosen' both."  He snorted a laugh.  "I still didn't know exactly what my job would be but I knew anything in the factory would suit me.  I guess you could say I thought that working in the factory was a calling and that the particular job didn't matter much.  Everything was a part of the factory's operation."

The old man sat lost in thought as if trying to sort out how everything fit together in the functioning of the factory.

"I remember the first day I went to work.  My supervisor wore a badge stuck proudly on the lapel of his work jacket.  It was shaped like a strange piece of equipment.  A tool of some kind. Underneath it was the word 'INSTRUCTOR.'  He sure seemed proud of that pin.

"He led me into the factory to my work station.  There on the table was something that his badge must have been modeled after.  He said, 'That's your toolmaker.'

"At last I knew my job.  I was to be a maker of tools.  Tools. What would our world be without them?  Everything's made with tools.  Well, maybe not plants and babies.  But farmers use tools for planting and doctors use tools for delivering.  And I was to make tools for the factory.  Why, what could the factory do without the tools I would make?  My job was important.  It was basic.  It had meaning.  And, the pay wasn't bad."

A smile broke through the moisture in the old man's eyes as a rainbow breaks through the mists of the air.  And faded just as quickly.

"My supervisor was patient with me.  He taught me step by step how to use the piece of equipment I had been given to make the most extraordinary toolmakers.  He told me how he had started by responding to a sign, just as I had.  He, too, had started work in this very department making toolmakers.  We laughed together when I made mistakes and he told stories about how he had done the same thing, or something more outrageous.  He always showed me where to find help in the instruction manual so as to avoid repeating my mistakes or making other similar ones.

"After my initial training I became my own supervisor.  I was certified 'RESPONSIBLE AND COMPETENT.'  I got a badge with those words written under what looked like one of my tools.  I was so proud of that badge."

The old man absent-mindedly rubbed his sleeve against an imaginary badge on his lapel.

"That badge was the beginning of my advancement at the factory.  That badge created ambition in my life.  It made me dissatisfied with only making tools.  I wanted to understand the workings of the factory and wear one of the rarer badges.

"I worked extra hard making tools.  I was always above quota even though I was extra careful to assemble them perfectly.  I always told the folks in town what a good factory I worked at. I guess I bragged a bit about how good our tools were.  I was really proud of my work.  Other fellows came to work at the factory because of the things I had told them about it.

"After a while my former supervisor asked me to help him train a new worker.  It was easy for me to do.  I just helped him like my instructor had helped me.  I really enjoyed that.  I gave this new guy on of the tools I had made.  I felt like a grandpa watching him use a tool made by my tool to produce more tools. Sorta like the Bible with its 'begats' come to life.  'Some tool begat my tool.  My tool begat his tool.  His tool begat some other tool.'"  A grin sneaked across the old man's face.

"Somebody must have liked the way I trained this guy 'cause I got called into the office and given a promotion.  My new badge said 'INSTRUCTOR.'  I guess that idea of the 'begats' did something to me.  I'd think of that and find myself enjoying being an instructor even more than I enjoyed making tools.  I got to thinkin' that someday one of the guys I had trained might become an instructor.  I'd become not only an industrial grandpa but an instructional grandpa, too.

"I guess you can't expect only good times and success.  One of my trainees walked off the job one day.  He just threw down his tool and left.  He said there weren't no point in makin' these darn fool tools!  And he left.

"I never hurt so bad before.  I hadn't ever imagined that anyone could just up and quit.  I couldn't see why anyone would want to quit.  I mean we were making good tools.  The best tools. Our working conditions were good.  Our tools created jobs.  How could anyone say, "There weren't no point?'"  The old man sat pondering that statement as if hearing it for the first time.  He took a deep breath and continued talking.

"Somehow I got on with things.  I tried not to think of my failure.  That's what I called him.  MY failure.  He was a failure if he couldn't become a toolmaker under my instruction.  I just worked a little harder and did a little better with my other trainees.  I learned how to point them in the right direction.  I helped them find satisfaction in a job well done.  I showed them the joy of seeing their tools 'beget' more tools.  "Even unto the third and fourth generation.'"  The old man smiled at the phrase. "Most important I taught them to be content.  Not to question their job.

"The inevitable happened.  I was called into the office again.  I was made a plant manager.  I was in charge of recruiting, training and production.  The factory was expanding.  I was contributing to that expansion.  Success.  That was the word I heard.  I liked it.  I worked hard and gave my best.

"And so that's the story of my life.  It's been a good life.  I worked hard.  I did a satisfying, useful job.  I contributed something.  I made toolmakers.  And taught others to use those toolmakers to make more toolmakers.  And trained others to teach others to use those toolmakers to make more toolmakers. And recruited others to be trained by those I had trained to train others to train still others to use toolmakers to make more toolmakers to make more toolmakers to make more toolmakers . . .

"OH, my God!"

The old man sat silently in the witness chair staring at the toolmaker in his hand as the Judge passed sentence.

A Poem for Christmas

For God So Loved The World

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . . 

How, then, can I sow hatred?

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . .

Whom, then, can I not love?

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . .

What, then, can I withhold?

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . .

Where, then, is His love not found?

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . .

When, then, will we understand?

For God so loved the world

That He gave His only Son . . .

Why, then, do we not care?

A Close Shave

I recently had a rather unnerving experience.

While ambling down a street in an unfamiliar part of town, I inadvertently bumped into a man who turned out to be a rather unsavory person.  He took great offence at my carelessness and was aggrieved by the contact that ensued with my person.

"I don't like the look of your face!"  he shouted.

"I don't either," I replied, hoping to relieve the tension of the encounter.

Rather than being mollified by my agreeable response, he became more incensed.

"Don't get smart with me!" he bellowed, whipping a razor out of his pocket and waving it in my face.

At that point, I figured I should remove myself from the premises.  I shall flee, I thought.  Let us fly, tapped my feet in Morse Code as I flew down the street.

Close on my heels came the enraged ruffian waving his razor wildly as he pursued me with every intention of changing the looks of my face.

I zigged and zagged through streets and alleys gaining distance between us as I tried to find a way to my car and safety.  At last I turned down an alley that I thought was a shortcut to where I was parked.  It was a dead end.

I started toward the entrance of the alley, hoping that I could get out and away before the razor wielding maniac caught me.  Alas, I met him at the entrance.  I retreated, looking around for a door to enter or some place of refuge.  I reached the end of the alley without finding an escape just as the man caught up with me.

I would really have had a close shave if the battery in his razor hadn't died just as he caught me.

The Problem of Inclusive Language

I've been pondering the trend toward inclusive language. And I've become a bit puzzled. It seems that things may be backfiring. 

For example, it's OK to refer to someone as human. Why don't we use human and huwoman? We've taken human as a generic term that is inclusive rather than gender specific. 

Then we use chairman and chairwoman when we know the gender of the chairperson. But that final word presents a problem. We treat it as generic rather than distinguishing a person from a perdaughter. Why? 

Maybe it would be easier to just define some words as generic and no longer gender specific. It seems that when we try to fight the way languages are structured, we're emphasizing gender specific issues rather than removing them. 

Which brings me to the old joke (best told orally but I'll attempt it in print): 

Why do we sing AMEN at the end of the songs at church rather than AWOMEN? Because they're HYMNS and not HYRS. (Hiss! Boo! Go away! NOW!)

Virtual Darkroom Capers

I headed to my virtual darkroom (Photoshop) and processed this shot with Nik Analog Effects Pro and OnOne Suite 8 then washed the print with Panos' Water drops action and hung it on the line to dry.  That's what you see below. Oh, yeah, I built the wall with Filter Forge.

More Photoshop Fun

Playing around with the newest addition to the Nik (Google) plug-in set with some PanosFx.com actions and background elements from Filter Forge.

Playing Around in Photoshop Some More

I've been playing around in Photoshop with some scans of old photos of my daughter Malaika from when she was small. Kinda fun to see what comes out.

Putting Together The Puzzle

Putting together (partially) a previously published puzzle within a puzzle.

Another Puzzle

Another bit of fun with an Photoshop action from PanosFx

Puzzle within a Puzzle

Just a bit of play with a couple of new Photoshop actions from PanosFX

Back to Hawaii: 15 - 28 August 2013

Here are some looks at our visit in Hawaii last month.  We're already homesick again.  Gotta save up quick for a return trip.

Back to Hawaii: 15 - 28 August 2013

Some panos that you can zoom in on for close ups and pan to see the wide spaces:

Honolulu

Ocean View near Hawaii Kai

Large Temple in The Valley of the Temples in Kaneohe, HI

First Photos from Hawaii Trip

Beginning to process photos from our Hawaii trip.  Lot's to do, but here are a couple early efforts enhanced by some PanosFX.com Photoshop Actions.

Hanauma Bay Pano with individual shots shown

Our nephew and his new wife

(their wedding was our excuse to go home for a visit)

3D In Photoshop Continued

Another variation of the Fan Puzzle image.  This one ads a heart shaped puzzle to the scene.

And an animation of that scene.

There are a few funny things going on as Photoshop renders the animation.  You'll see them on the ground.

3D in Photoshop CC and Panos Actions

Playing around with 3D in Photoshop CC and using Photoshop Actions from www.panos.com
Still a lot to learn, but the effects are getting interesting.

The Problem of Systematic Theology

More and more I am driven to the conclusion that systematic theology is one of the major impediments to authentic Christian faith today.

Systematic theology seeks to organize knowledge about God in such a way that we have encompassed God within our own understanding.  God becomes reasonable.  God is defined.  God is comprehended.  God is under control.

However, God in His wisdom did not provide us with a theological text book. He gave us the Bible, a compilation of stories and poetry.  That is because authentic theology is acquired by osmosis rather than by reason and logic. We come to know God by repeatedly encountering Him in the stories of the Bible and the stories of our own lives.  We come to know God separately from, maybe even before, our coming to know about God.

An example of the problem:  In my youth Southern Baptists were aware of the difference between a personal relationship with God and an objective understanding about God.  That awareness affected Baptist practices. Baptists insisted that a personal experience with Jesus was the prerequisite for baptism and church membership, not rote recitation of an approved creed.  For that reason, Baptists were uncomfortable with and even suspicious of those who practiced confirmation, insisting upon a personal confession of faith rather than knowledge of a catechism.

In recent decades things have changed among Southern Baptists.  A person's personal faith and relationship with God is now decried as emotional subjectivism, lacking the substance and validity of intellectual acceptance  of systematic theological statements concerning the nature of God. Commitment to correct propositional statements about God is now seen as what defines a Christian.  The result is that the emphasis has come to be centered upon an intellectual affirmation of theological pronouncements formulated by a few and voted upon and approved by a majority of the representatives from local congregations, a majority of whom have limited understanding of the implications of the actions they have taken. Propositional statements have superseded personal relationships.

The sad result is that now Southern Baptists are more confident in their knowledge about God while knowing God, Himself, less and less.

Where we once looked to God to define who we are to be, we now look to systematic theology, and it's derivative Baptist Faith and Message, to define who God must be.

The servant seeks to rule the Master.

Sadly, this rebellion is not limited to Southern Baptists.