1. langleav:

    Just wrote this poem last night. You know that feeling when you fall asleep in the day and when you wake up, it’s already dark? Not sure why but it always makes me feel melancholy. Anyway, I hope you like it… it’s the first poem I have written in a really long time (hence the first line.) I’ve been so busy getting ready for the September launch of my new book Lullabies. Hopefully, there will be more new poems soon… A thousand kisses to you all! xo Lang 

    (via lovequotesrus)

     
  2. imgfave:

    See more in Art

     
  3. Florida Sunsets :) #sunset #beautiful #florida #nature

     
  4. (Source: 500px.com, via mindykindylindy)

     

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  6. remediosthebeauty:

    Moving On - a stop motion music video made with yarn.  It’s pretty incredible.

    Created by Ainslie Henderson

    Music by James 

     
     
  7. dickspeightjr:

    howiemandel:

    rainbowwaterfall:

    that’s a lot of butter.

    there are fucking google eyes staring into your soul from every angle and you comment on the butter

    to be fair it is a lot of butter

    (via ruinedchildhood)

     
  8. sharpyyypostings:

    pocketphoenix:

    noahhateseverything:

    If you are still looking for the song of the summer, STOP LOOKING. I have found it for you.

    • Her name is Kiesza. She is Canadian.
    • She is a classically trained ballet dancer.
    • She was a codebreaker in the Canadian Navy.
    • The song is called Hideaway. It is the jam to end all jams.
    • The song is bringing back C+C Music Factory 90s house realness.
    • This is going to be huge.

    Y’all take care.

    So I knew 10 seconds into this song I was going to reblog it.

    Holy shit that was good!

    (via angelofmusic8283)

     
     
  9. imgfave:

    Posted by Olivia Reed

     
  10. haymitcth:

    there’s something magical about Broadway. The audiences are smart, they’re educated. They go in ready and they’re up for it, they’re up for the party. It’s a whole different atmosphere.’
                 ∟  Hugh Jackman

    (Source: bitcthing, via sharingfromafar)

     
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  12. "Travel is little beds and cramped bathrooms. It’s old television sets and slow Internet connections. Travel is extraordinary conversations with ordinary people. It’s waiters, gas station attendants, and housekeepers becoming the most interesting people in the world. It’s churches that are compelling enough to enter. It’s McDonald’s being a luxury. It’s the realization that you may have been born in the wrong country. Travel is a smile that leads to a conversation in broken English. It’s the epiphany that pretty girls smile the same way all over the world. Travel is tipping 10% and being embraced for it. Travel is the same white T-shirt again tomorrow. Travel is accented sex after good wine and too many unfiltered cigarettes. Travel is flowing in the back of a bus with giggly strangers. It’s a street full of bearded backpackers looking down at maps. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was. It’s the rediscovery of walking somewhere. It’s sharing a bottle of liquor on an overnight train with a new friend. Travel is ‘Maybe I don’t have to do it that way when I get back home."
    — Nick Miller, Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? (via psych-facts)

    (via psych-facts)

     
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  14. nearlya:

    Miroslaw Balka. How It Is, 2009, installation at Tate Modern

    As the viewer approaches, it looks like a huge container, a mighty sculpture with a powerful presence. However, walking round it brings one to something else entirely, and to a sudden halt. A fragment of memory: turning the pages of the philosopher Robert Fludd’s magnum opus of 1617 the readers may find, to their surprise, a large black square taking up much of page twenty-six. ‘Et sic in infinitum’ is inscribed into all four margins of the dark square: ‘And this into infinity’, a something that one cannot imagine. The non-picture comes at the beginning of a chapter about shadows and privatio, a word that translates as both ‘privation’ and ‘liberation’. Cut. The back wall of the colossal container has been lowered, forming a ramp into the darkness. What wonder or beasts await us inside? Will we have the curiosity and calm determination of János in Béla Tarr’s movie Werckmeister Harmonies to pursue the unknown, in astonishment, or will we gaze at it from the outside, uninvolved and suspicious? The steel room is large enough for its depths to be shrouded in mystery as we enter, but it is also wide enough to move about freely inside it – alone or with others. It is not pitch black inside, just increasingly dark; turning around we can still see the outside. The mise-en-scene of the unknown is overwhelming, but not because the Turbine Hall where it is placed would dwarf any smaller structure. The fact is that mighty raised up steel body – as tall as a house – corresponds in size to our inner sense of the unknown, of the limits of life. The effort and huge amount of material that went into making it were necessary to convey the notion, the fear, the black block that weighs us down on the last path. The sculpture had to become almost absurdly large in order to give a true sense of the threat that looms at us in the shape of the last wall in the realms of our imagination. However, when one in fact enters the black box, there is no climax to this sense of the overwhelmingly uncanny, instead there is a kind of gradual dis-illusion as one becomes accustomed to the darkness, an insight into ‘how it is’. Privatio: deprived of the certainty of life yet also liberated from the fear? The black container is a paradox. It has the dimensions of fear and is large enough to accommodate a social event, but it also has the intimacy of an individual thought and the normality of a single life.

    Julian Heynen (Translated by Fiona Elliott)

    (via cosmicclusters)

     
  15. (Source: luximy, via simply-disengage)