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Submitted: September 8, 2010
Image Size: 347 KB
Resolution: 1000×614

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Make:SAMSUNG
Model:NX10
Shutter Speed:1/13 second
Aperture:F/5.6
Focal Length:37 mm
ISO Speed:400
Date Taken:Sep 1, 2010, 11:36:15 AM

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The Beauty of Bones - 2by `BenHeine

Photography / Photojournalism / Documentary & Editorial

© Ben Heine || Facebook || Twitter || www.benheine.com
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A photo I took at the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece. Kind of scary... the focus is on the skull.

The above photo has been shot with the Samsung NX10, provided by Samsung Electronics Co., Ltd.
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For more information about my artwork: info@benheine.com
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More facts: The National Archaeological Museum in Athens houses some of the most important artifacts from a variety of archaeological locations around Greece from prehistory to late antiquity. It is considered one of the great museums in the world and contains the richest collection of artifacts from Greek antiquity worldwide. It is situated in the Exarhia area in central Athens between Epirus Street, Bouboulinas Street and Tositsas Street while its entrance is on the Patission Street adjacent to the historical building of the Athens Polytechnic.

Here is the entrance of the museum itself:

The Hour of Madness

A poem by Mark Prime

This is the hour of madness.
This is the thirst that waits without minutes.
This is the hour of thirst and hunger and madness.
This is the jackal that paces in the hour of thirst and hunger and madness.

This is our maddening choice.
This is the selection on our maddening time-pieces.
This is the moment of occasional sanity, the flies on the child’s face,
The hour of our madness.

This is the lanced beast and the whimper of freedom,
The cry of whales, the laughter of maddened swine,
the grief of hours, days and years.

This is the waste of affection’s reach, the death, if you will,
of this second, this minute, this day, this year, this time of madness
in the world, like the previous, that erupted in howling, hands around the neck
like a buoy snarled in razor-sharp hooks left behind by the hunters,
those earlier inheritors without breath or reason.

This is the waiting, the grey harbinger navigating the water,
waiting for someone to come along… and remember.