vckns:

Drugs here

Tokujin Yoshioka's project 'snow' is a dynamic 15-meter-wide installation. It consists of a scene depicting hundreds of kilograms of light feathers blowing all over 
and falling down slowly is meant to remind us of the snow scape of our memories and the beauty of nature which often exceeds our imagination. visitors to the exhibition 
experience the feeling of looking at or walking through a snowstorm.

(Source: i-chig0)


humanoidhistory:

GREETINGS FROM POMPEII — Vintage visions of the ancient ruins of Pompeii, Italy, circa 1905, photochrome color postcards from the Detroit Publishing Company, courtesy of the Library of Congress.

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think

praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this
is exactly what’s happening,

it’s what they write grants about: the chromodynamics
of mournful Whistlers,
the audible sorrow and beta decay of “Old Battersea Bridge.”
I like the idea of different

theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,
a Bronx where people talk
like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow
kind, perhaps in the nook

of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed
anyone. Here I have
two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back
to rest my cheek against,

your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish.
My hands are webbed
like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed
something in the womb

but couldn’t hang on. One of those other worlds
or a life I felt
passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother’s belly
she had to scream out.

Here when I say “I never want to be without you,”
somewhere else I am saying
“I never want to be without you again.” And when I touch you
in each of the places we meet

in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying
and resurrected.
When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life,
in each place and forever.

Bob Hicok, ”Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem” (via focloir)

(Source: somstory)

But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in your head.
Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why (via quotes-shape-us)
There are essentially two things that will make you wise — the books you read and the people you meet.
Jack Canfield (via ablogwithaview)

(Source: observando)


Edwin Long - Queen Esther (1878)

(Source: marcuscrassus)


mymodernmet:

Louisiana-based photographer Frank Relle captures the nighttime magic of New Orleans in his ongoing series New Orleans Nightscapes. He uses long exposures to capture the feeling of the powerful, haunting beauty throughout his hometown.

I have always wanted to visit New Orleans.

daenerystargayren:

being really into history is cooler than being into math or science… someone who likes math and science is called a “math nerd” or a “science geek” but someone who likes history is called a “history buff” because of their strong, sensual arms

:D