Aliens Captured in Photographic Images!

Alien Photography

Some very cool friends of Pamela Goodyer

ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY

Pamela Goodyer was alone in humanity yet surrounded by alien companionship. She defied the odds to become the first photographer to capture these extraterrestrial beings in her night photography images. Everywhere she ventured with her Milky Way camera, they followed. After enduring the most devastating year of her life with the loss of a dear one, she found solace in creativity and art. Somehow, the aliens heard her silent pain and offered comfort without a single word uttered.

Pamela believed these star travelers had befriended her due to her otherworldly artistic mind and ability to channel from other realms. “You must be creative, believe in aliens, and they will find you,” she thought. And find her they did – time and time again, as witnessed in photos across the globe. Now, Pam’s story has spread beyond Earth.

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HOW TO DO LONG-EXPOSURE ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY

When her extraterrestrial friends arrived, Pamela Goodyer’s images captured strange shapes resembling hearts several times. She thinks this is because love and support are universal concepts, and they wanted to show she was with them during tough times. Her camera, Mark, seems envious of the aliens, but the Canon 5D Mark IV always creates amazing shots alongside Pamela Goodyer, no matter what.

Pamela Goodyer will teach you trick photography in person, via Zoom, or on a photography tour.

SHUTTER SPEED – A KEY ROLE IN ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY

Shutter speed refers to the duration of time that a camera’s shutter remains open, allowing light to pass through and create an image on the sensor. Shutter speed plays a crucial role in subjects’ exposure and motion blur in a photograph.

Exposure is determined by the amount of light captured in an image and can be controlled using the camera’s light meter. A properly balanced exposure will retain detail in all areas of the photo. Adjusting the shutter speed can also impact the brightness or darkness of an image. Beginner photographers must understand the relationship between aperture, ISO, and shutter speed.

When a slow shutter speed is used, objects may appear blurred due to their movement while the shutter is open. This applies to people, clouds, water, and any other element reflecting light into the camera. Changes or shifts in this light will alter the appearance of these subjects in photos.

YOU MUST HAVE A TRIPOD TO DO ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY

Preparation is critical before embarking on a journey of long-exposure photography. Unlike other photography styles, this technique requires careful planning and specific gear to achieve desired results. The right equipment and camera settings are crucial for success. In a lesson from Pamela Goodyer you will delve into the essentials of long-exposure photography and how to ensure you have everything you need to capture stunning images.

ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY STORY

PHOTOGRAPHER/INVESTIGATOR

As an investigator and investigative journalist, I knew how to see through propaganda and find the facts that needed to be exposed to save humanity from themselves. It was beyond belief what had happened. The aliens had chosen me, Pamela, to receive a gift that would change everything. I possessed the ability to expose lies and uncover the truth, but now I had an even greater power. Having received this gift, I felt a responsibility to use it for the benefit of humanity.

I trudged home, weighed down by the responsibility now resting on my shoulders. My mind raced with thoughts and questions as I grabbed my recorder and recorded every detail of the encounter. My hands shook as I spoke, trying to understand everything and document this incredible experience.

While replaying the recording in my living room, I realized that the encounter would alter my life. But with this gift, I could help save humanity from its destruction. It was both exhilarating and terrifying to think about. My voice barely whispered as I confessed, “I sense two emotions now: paralyzing fear and… a sort of hollow excitement.”

I worked with renewed passion as the days went by. I viewed every headline, every breaking story, with an intense vision that pierced through manufactured misinformation like a laser beam through the mist. I saw the corruption, the lies spun like spider webs, ensnaring the masses in ignorance and fear. My blood boiled with rage as I could see the toppling of countries, the slaughter of innocent civilians and a government that had no regard for life but only for power and profits. I understood what the aliens meant by “Stop Killing Each Other.”

MY ARTICLES

My articles became incisive exposés that shook the stoic facades of the powerful and exposed the rot underneath. I used the gift given to me by the aliens with an unwavering intensity and fervor, exposing government corruption and its secret societies. I was getting closer and closer to the identities of the Deep State. The motivation entwisted with intense curiosity, which always drove me to investigate.

But as I reveled in the satisfaction of uncovering the truth, a haunting fear took hold. My psychic ability had been an invaluable tool in my quest for truth, but it also made me a target. The deeper I delved into the government, the more attention I would draw to myself, even though I was just a ghostwriter. My intuition warned me that unseen eyes watched my every move, and I could feel their scrutiny intensifying.

To protect myself, I returned to my training and honed my senses. I devised clever methods to detect intruders trying to enter my home for covert surveillance, bypassing my advanced security system. I would set traps between door frames using threads or hairs to alert me if someone had entered. I strategically placed objects like coins and powder in areas that had the potential to serve as points of entry.

I awaited the day I would utilize my alien-given gift to save humanity. Only after that would I leave my hiding place and join the rest of the world.

MY TRAPS WERE TRIGGERED

My heels clicked on the pavement, heading towards the front door one evening; after another late night of investigations, I arrived home. I opened the door and found something had triggered my strategically placed traps. I felt an icy dread clutch at my heart but also that familiar hollow tunnel vision surge as I pulled my gun out of the holster and chambered a round. With a deep breath, I went inside. The house was silent, except for the soft ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway. My senses heightened, picking up the faintest indications of disturbance. There was a misplaced mug on the coffee table, with giant footprints in the soft powder I set down before I left.

I crept up the stairs, my hand tight around the gun, my heart hammering in my chest like a warning bell. Each creak of the old staircase felt like a bad omen, and an eerie stillness reverberated through the house. I reached the landing and tiptoed toward the master bedroom. The door was cracked open, darkness swallowing it whole. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open with my foot, my gun aimed at whatever may lurk inside.

Fear coiled in my gut as I stepped into the room, my eyes locked on a symbol. It was a warning, a message, an explicit threat that made me feel like I was standing on the edge of a precipice. It was the sigil of the Serpent, a secret organization I had been pursuing relentlessly for years, even before I met the aliens. I knew I was on the precipice of a revelation that my work was bearing fruit.

CRIMSON TIDE

Suddenly, everything made sense. The Serpent’s unseen eyes watched and waited for the perfect moment to strike. And this was their declaration of war. As I processed the shocking revelation, a strange calm came over me. After years of uncertainty, I finally had a name to put to my enemy. Standing there, gazing at the crimson symbol that had turned my home into a war zone, I knew I had to tap into the god-like abilities bestowed upon me by the extraterrestrials.

I must delve deeper and uncover the truth. When I finished clearing the house, I went outside. There was no evidence of their presence in any room except my bedroom. Can I find my alien allies once more? I pondered to myself, wondering whether they would answer my call if I contacted them. I looked at the stars above and whispered, “How do you reach out to aliens?” My feet started moving towards the spot where we first crossed paths.

The house behind me had transformed into a crypt of malevolence, yet I found an odd sense of peace beneath the night sky. My heart pounded in my chest, the rhythm reminding me that I had something to fight for—my life and freedom.

The next day, I slept in, knowing it would be a long night. I packed my camera gear, grabbed Mark and Mark Senior, cleaned their lenses, and got them ready for our journey. We would wait until just before nightfall.

TO BE CONTINUED

The story is not over; it is just beginning. TO BE CONTINUED

Are Pamela’s tales of alien encounters simply works of fiction, or are they based on real experiences? As readers delve deeper into Pamela’s alien photography, they are drawn into a world where reality and imagination blur together, leaving them with more questions than answers. As they flipped through Photography Magazine Extra, they found themselves wondering what other secrets lay hidden within the mysterious mind of Pamela Goodyer.

How Pamela First Photographed the Aliens

HOW ALIEN PHOTOGRAPHY FIRST BEGAN

Mark and I strolled across the sand of the beach, our eyes fixed on the dazzling display of stars above. The Milky Way stretched its ethereal arms across the endless expanse of sky, twinkling with millions of distant worlds. The warm summer air enveloped us in a comforting embrace, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed on its gentle breeze. The soft sound of crashing waves became a soothing soundtrack to our footsteps. We eagerly set up our cameras, hoping to capture the beauty of this celestial moment, a memory that would last far beyond this warm midsummer night.

As darkness fell, the stars shimmered, revealing the universe’s secrets. I adjusted the settings on my camera (Canon Mark IV, hence the name Mark), but something extraordinary was about to unfold before our eyes, or my eyes and his lens.

With each click of the shutter, it breathed life into the darkness, creating images of the fragments of a picturesque cosmic ballet. I glanced again at the back of my camera, and my heart began to race out of control, my eyes wide with terror, hoping I saw a trick of light or my imagination. But they are — unmistakably extraterrestrial beings staring back at me from the screen! Panic sets in as I realize I can’t see them with my own eyes, yet they somehow appear in my photos. The hairs on my neck stand on end as I fear what other secrets may lie hidden around me.

PARALYZING FEAR

The darkness engulfed me, my heart pounding like a wild animal trying to break free. Fear paralyzed me, but I knew I couldn’t stay frozen in terror. My only chance of survival was to grab Mark and run or face the unknown dangers of communicating with unseen aliens. But as my mind raced with doubts and questions, a sudden urgency took over. I needed to capture these images, no matter the cost. With my life possibly in danger, I couldn’t spend time debating with myself. Were these creatures friendly? Should I fear for my life? The adrenaline coursing through me only heightened the uncertainty and danger of the moment.

With my camera on a tripod, I took another shot. As I anxiously reviewed the image, I saw a bright, slender streak of light, a light trail forming a heart right next to the alien, looking straight at me. It had to be more than a coincidence; without a doubt, it was a message from the aliens I had been trying to communicate with. My heart raced with excitement and understanding as I continued photographing their mesmerizing light show. They danced the red light trail through the images floating around in the air under the Milky Way.

My heart calmed, and I acknowledged the rarity of this moment. I could now reveal the greatest secret in human history: aliens are among us! I will be the first to present alien images to the world. Yes, the whistle-blowers came forward in 2017 and showed the Air Force tracking an alien ship across the sky, but they need pictures of the actual aliens themselves.

CONGRESSIONAL COMMITTEE WHISTLEBLOWERS

Before a congressional committee, the whistle-blowers shared their testimony regarding the existence of ships and aliens in government custody and the ongoing process of reverse engineering, which is where all of our technology has been coming from for almost a century. I remember the testimony claiming that the Deep State has resorted to murder to protect this ultra-top secret information.

Amidst the intoxicating euphoria of basking in the aliens’ glory of posing for me in my pictures, I am suddenly struck by a surge of knowledge. Their words are not spoken but implanted directly into my mind, searing with unfiltered information that overwhelms my senses and rattles my understanding of reality. The weight of this newfound knowledge presses down on me, threatening to consume me entirely as I struggle to grasp the truth behind their cryptic gestures and enigmatic language.

The messages contain a warning, a fragment of information that simultaneously cautions against embedding too much information in my brain. They say it would unravel my sanity. Before they left me, they urged me to focus only on the main message for today, the message they want to spread throughout mankind. Yet, I can’t ignore the unsettling intuition that their cryptic words conceal a darker truth. The sinister feeling is about my government, not them; the most corrupt, warmongering, money-hungry group in the world is threatening all of humanity.

THE KEY MESSAGES FROM THE ALIENS

The key messages they embed in the core of my being are:

STOP KILLING EACH OTHER – STOP DESTROYING THE PLANET – AND STOP ALL NUCLEAR ACTIVITY

The government’s intentions are not rooted in the nefarious propaganda version of a climate hoax but rather to put an end to the actual destruction of our planet. The very corporations who manufactured fabricated solutions, from the WEF down, for the supposed climate issue are the ones responsible for the actual devastation of our earth. This is nothing but a deceitful ploy to shift blame onto the people and justify their continued destruction as they lead opulent lifestyles, traveling in private jets that accommodate their giant SUVs and armed security personnel.

The solutions they offer, born out of the destruction humans have wrought upon our planet, are nothing but a capitalist scheme disguised as benevolence. They are a way to maintain control over the masses and manipulate their fears and aspirations for profit. And amidst it all, the true damage to our world remains unchecked and unheeded.

During our first interaction, my mind was flooded with raw awareness, shattering the veil of deceit and manipulation that had clouded my vision. It was as if the aliens had given me a god-like ability to see through all illusions, perceiving the unfiltered truth. Every lie, every facade crumbles under the weight of this newfound power coursing through me. I am to use this in every aspect of my life for the greater good of humanity. They have chosen me. But why?

THE CHOSEN ONE

Since childhood, I have had an otherworldly gift – the power to commune with spirits and foretell the future. Is this why? Since my mind is a channel for cosmic knowledge, those desperate for insight seek my visions. Being a prophet has its burdens, but it is a responsibility I bear with pride and reverence.

I always believed my clairvoyant abilities were a birthright inherited from generations of gifted ancestors. My great-grandmother had foretold the assassination of John F. Kennedy long before he was even born. She spoke of an Irish Catholic president who would be tragically murdered, and her prediction came true. But now, with my powers amplified a hundredfold by the aliens, I can’t help but question their involvement in granting me this gift. Did they implant it in my ancestor’s DNA, passing it down through generations? How are they capable of manipulating our very essence? The more I think about it, the more unsettling questions arise, leaving me desperate for answers. They did not instill this knowledge in me. But then, an epiphany occurred. I could ask the aliens; I intuitively knew they would see me again.

Ghost Hunting