#urban solitude

[indiestar]

I take the long way home, past streets I don't need to walk, past windows that flicker with lives I'll never know. Maybe it's avoidance, maybe it's nostalgia, maybe it's just the quiet thrill of not arriving too soon.

[raccoonintheattic]

Week #42

She dreamed of becoming a writer; me with saving the planet.

The leaves on the trees have already begun to change colour—last chance to survive another winter. Red, yellow, and orange paint the landscape with warm tones, colours culturally associated with passion and that bring to mind the memory of fire. However, they contrast with the clothing of the people who walk beneath them—greyish, neutral colours, and some black as well.

It's funny, I think as I walk through the city streets at night, how imperceptible all these colours are. The trees, illuminated only by the stars and the artificial light from streetlights and passing cars, are nothing more than skeletons—dead bodies swayed by the wind, which occasionally makes the dry leaves on the ground rattle as they are dragged along.

The night, or rather, the complete absence of natural light—sunlight that takes almost eight minutes to reach our planet—cancels out the seasons, almost as if the Earth had stopped rotating around the sun, jealous of the importance we give to that fireball. Without light, the trees remain static, and—if one tries hard enough to dissociate from reality—one can imagine that it is still summer, or even spring.

While walking through the quiet and dark streets of the city, I call my friend on the phone. Why? You may ask. Honestly, for no particular reason. Perhaps to not feel so alone, perhaps because I am walking through an area that is too dark and silent—as if my conversation could prevent me from danger or something like that—or perhaps to ignore the darkest and most disastrous thoughts of my exhausted mind, which, in a way, seems to be preparing for the arrival of winter. You see, the absence of light—short days and grey skies—induces my mind into complete apathy, making it more susceptible to sad, sticky thoughts like tar, permeating my grey matter, enclosed in a bone cage. And, you see, I like it, I like feeling miserable in a way, I embrace it.

Our conversation revolves around catching up, discussing life and our problems—without getting too philosophical, neither she nor I are that pedantic. There's not much we can really do for each other and we soon realise that we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes—or steps, if you don't want me to be catastrophic—of our parents. And we realise, as we talk, how adulthood has gradually erased our innocence, our enthusiasm, our desire to build a bright future—like the light of the sun. Or perhaps we have woken up from the dormancy that late capitalism submerged us in, and only now do we realise what a shitty world we live in—maybe we just took the wrong pill.

She dreamed of becoming a writer; me with studying ecology and saving the planet. It seems that popular literature does not mourn the loss of another young writer who will never be, and the planet seems to be doing... just fine. A little warmer than fifty years ago. But there it is, ellipsoid, rotating constantly. Warmer winters and even more arid summers occur, in between torrential rains, droughts and hurricanes. But it keeps spinning.

[hotybahz]

Noir cinematic film still. Medium shot. A vintage tram travels down a rain-soaked street at night, a solitary young woman sits on a bench. Inspired by Edward Hopper. Warm golden light spills from the tram's windows, casting a glow on the wet pavement. Soft, shimmering reflections dance on the rain-soaked street. Dark, bare trees loom in the background, ornate street lamps casting a soft, ethereal glow. Moody, atmospheric lighting with deep shadows. Muted, vivid colors. High contrast film grain, reminiscent of oil painting masters. Rainy night, nostalgia, solitude, cinematic, vintage, warm lighting, high contrast, film grain, Edward Hopper, atmospheric, mysterious, solitary figure, urban landscape, night scene, tram

[hucosler]

I really enjoy night photography, theres a sense of peace in it I think that I really enjoy. This night I was out on top of a garage taking pictures of the moon with my little sister in tow when I saw this was basically the only source of light on this structure and it seemed almost. Lonely? I don’t really know, I think it just looked really cool. Sometimes I take pictures because I like to envision how a subject would pose in it. This one seemed like it would be cool with or without a subject.

The subject in this one was the light pole itself. The first few initial changes were to fix and flatten the image, and adjust a bit of the brightness to bring out some of the shiny details on the ground. Then using masks, I tried to focus on the light emitted from the source and induce a cone shape to it. Bringing the attention to the center and darkening the edges of the picture. I don’t know what message I get from this photo, but more so a feeling of peace, serenity and a feeling of hope like you’ve almost made it. The light pole acting as an almost beacon to fight off the dark.

Or it can be the street lamps for the First Alan wake that kept you safe from the shadow creatures of the dark. Something to keep you safe. Genuinely how many tags should I put into each post?

[epicstoriestime]

Reflecting on Technology: Tools That Shape, Tools That Distract

What technology would you be better off without, why? Technology surrounds us, offering countless conveniences, but sometimes I wonder if we’ve traded too much for the ease it provides. For me, it’s not about being outside or hands-on with nature, as gardening or jogging have never been my thing. Instead, my moments of clarity come from thoughtful pacing—letting my mind wander in sync with my…

[daemonya]

AI-curated art:

In the hushed twilight of Hanoi, lonely figures stand frozen in time, their silhouettes etched against the warm glow of streetlamps. A solitary woman gazes out from a French colonial balcony, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where past and present blur. In a quiet café, light spills onto empty chairs, casting long shadows that stretch across weathered tiles. The Old Quarter's narrow streets, usually teeming with life, now lie still under the artist's brush, their ancient walls whispering secrets of a city caught between tradition and modernity. Each canvas captures a moment of solitude amidst the urban landscape, where the weight of history hangs heavy in the air, and the soul of Hanoi reveals itself in hushed tones and muted colors.

[stanford-photography]

Regrets By Jeff Stanford, 2024

Buy prints at: https://jeff-stanford.pixels.com/

[forthepleasureofmylife]

Bordeaux France

Photo: Dieter Krehbiel

[missedmilemarkers]

[the-final-lullaby]

Caligo

The rain calms down

Amongst the fog

I stand alone

Its another restless night

[meonapicnictable]

A picnic table in the middle of nowhere with ample parking. Special thanks to @neon_ginger on Instagram for finding it and taking this picture.

[drsilasaslan]

Cloudy Urban Tangles in Zürich An urban street scene features crisscrossing power lines and a minimalist lamppost, all under a muted gray sky. The mood is somber and reflective, capturing a solitary moment in the city.

[stanford-photography]

Ticket to Ride By Jeff Stanford, 2025

Buy prints at: https://jeff-stanford.pixels.com/

[forthepleasureofmylife]

Empire State Building

Photo: Dieter Krehbiel

[viagginterstellari]

Nocturnal solitudes - Viterbo, 2023

[oddestishottest]

02/24/19