Your Stake in the Atom, a special traveling exhibit of U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, is housed in its own geodesic, exoskeleton structure some 20 feet high and 50 feet in diameter, 1966
Ed Westcott
Your Stake in the Atom, a special traveling exhibit of U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, is housed in its own geodesic, exoskeleton structure some 20 feet high and 50 feet in diameter, 1966
Ed Westcott
Que es la veritat? | What is the truth?
Barcelona, Sagrada Familia, Gaudi.
Brussels / Homeless / Bed (c. Filip Berte)
Bruges by Walter Bendix Schönflies on Flickr.
Because we cannot re-learn newness or re-experience the seconds before our first kiss or first cruelty, we keep kernels. That’s what Moonrise does. While the conversation might be lost, we do remember where we were sitting when an adult, perhaps feeling especially vulnerable, spoke to us for the first time as if we were one too. Or how during that one summer, there was a bad lighting storm and a girl named Suzy who wore her mother’s perfume. Or the way our parents looked on especially hot days in various states of undress.
"Soon after this I contrived, by means which I must omit for want of room, to transfer myself to London. And now began the latter and fiercer stage of my long sufferings; without using a disproportionate expression I might say, of my agony. For I now suffered, for upwards of sixteen weeks, the physical anguish of hunger in. In various degrees of intensity, but as bitter perhaps as ever any human being can have suffered who has survived it would not needlessly harass my reader’s feelings by a detail of all that I endured; for extremities such as these, under any circumstances of heaviest misconduct or guilt, cannot be contemplated, even in description, without a rueful pity that is painful to the natural goodness of the human heart. Let it suffice, at least on this occasion, to say that a few fragments of bread from the breakfast-table of one individual (who supposed me to be ill, but did not know of my being in utter want), and these at uncertain intervals, constituted my whole support. During the former part of my sufferings (that is, generally in Wales, and always for the first two months in London) I was houseless, and very seldom slept under a roof. To this constant exposure to the open air I ascribe it mainly that I did not sink under my torments. Latterly, however, when colder and more inclement weather came on, and when, from the length of my sufferings, I had begun to sink into a more languishing condition, it was no doubt fortunate for me that the same person to whose breakfast-table I had access, allowed me to sleep in a large unoccupied house of which he was tenant."
- Thomas De Quincey, Confessions of an English Opium-Eater (via liberumarbitriumindifferentiae)
My iTunes
Hella Jamz in the morning.
(Source: saintfranklin)
Downtown (Pris avec instagram)
ennui (one of the trendy magazines that never never capitalized the first letter of its name) was the preferred monthly journal of those who preferred to …well you know. Not interested in this or that, they seldom looked forward to their ennui each month, but a subscription just seemed to drag on forever and a day. Lacking any focus in life, getting the subscription stopped was just more than they could focus on, so that wasn’t an option, either. Still published today, each copy of ennui is universally greeted by its subscriber with a “meh” and then tossed onto the coffee table where it gathers dust until someone gets around to just throwing it away.
