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Photographer's Note

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose form
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Moai in Ranu Rarakao quarry. Subject illuminated by head torch in the complete darkness before dawn. It is one of the eeriest experiences I have ever had, all alone in the pitch blackness of this Moai graveyard, giant heads looming up all around like giant watchmen.

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Additional Photos by Phillip Homer (fijiphil) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Star Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 450 W: 84 N: 233] (1355)
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