meet-me-in-europe:

Gjógv, Faroe Islands


I love seeing otherwise regular and cosy suburbs happily sprouted in these geographical extremities.

meet-me-in-europe:

Gjógv, Faroe Islands

I love seeing otherwise regular and cosy suburbs happily sprouted in these geographical extremities.

(via othernotebooksareavailable)

overly warm afternoon with matching cat

natgeofound:

Locals enjoy the view of the Surrey Hills in England, 1928.Photograph by Clifton R. Adams, National Geographic

natgeofound:

Locals enjoy the view of the Surrey Hills in England, 1928.Photograph by Clifton R. Adams, National Geographic

I tend to be a bit cautious about dabbing on filters now standard fare in most mobile cameras; probably in part due to never having used Instagram, there’s
1) gosh this thrill of delight must be so 5 years and a million pictures ago for most people
2) backed up by an instinctive remnant, desperate snobbery, inherited in part from some old version of me seeing people both constantly using and cynically dismissing those cheap, one-tap-away filters

Nevertheless one must gently push back cynicism also this rainy bus trip looks entirely dreamy insta-filtered.

art-is-art-is-art:

Rainy Day in Vomero, Naples, Attilio Pratella

art-is-art-is-art:

Rainy Day in Vomero, Naples, Attilio Pratella

(via arcadiainteriorana)

majozaur:

Allium by takmaj
blastedheath:

Jeffrey Smart (Australian, 1921-2013), The Steps, 1967. Oil on canvas, 76 x 80 cm.

blastedheath:

Jeffrey Smart (Australian, 1921-2013), The Steps, 1967. Oil on canvas, 76 x 80 cm.

S. follows blue signs through wide, luminous aisles. Shortcut to Home Organization. To Bookcases, Media & Storage. Each, it seems, leads him deeper into this sprawling furniture labyrinth.

He wonders how long ago he pulled into that immense parking lot with vague intentions of buying a few things for his apartment: a side table, a reading lamp, a shower mat. Four hours, eight hours, twelve? An unpleasant realization solidifies in S.’s mind: he’s lost, lost in Furniture Land.

Pair with: “Life in IKEA is impossible

Pretty cloud

Pretty cloud

massarrah:

List of Plants in a Royal Babylonian Garden

This tablet lists plants in the garden of the Babylonian king Marduk-apla-iddina (reigned 721-710 and in 703 BCE; Biblical Merodach-Baladan). Included on the list are various vegetables, such as onion and leek, and herbs, such as mint and coriander. (Source)

Neo-Babylonian, c. 8th-7th century BCE.

British Museum.

(via ancient-mesopotamia)

pair with

Grassed land completely browned over and watered lawns only just hanging on after the driest month in over 130 years, here. I’d spent much of the past week indoors, trying to do some literal (and rather disastrous it seemed) eleventh-hour exam preparation, and when outdoors was mostly blinded by the transcendent heat of the sun, so a first look out, on a day which was probably decent enough to be an eye-opener, was a surprise- any place that had substantial grass in it now looked completely different.

Not just colour-wise; the trees plus the dirt palette of the ground looked like a scene from the mid latitudes, with only the temperature and me incongruous (a short walk from shelter to snap some pictures, and my device was quickly at 33 degrees C, it said). Roadsides, with buildings under construction and displaying sharply painted facades and rising above brown slopes, looked like those post-Soviet central Asian hotel blocks I’d saved to Pinterest several months ago, thinking they looked like some dreamily otherworldly cityscape so beyond my world.

When Evgenia Arbugaeva recounts her childhood in Tiksi, a port town in the Russian Arctic that touches the Laptev Sea, she speaks in fantastical terms—​of an aurora borealis that hovered like “a big green breath frozen in the heavens”; of ice fishing with her father, the two of them dragging home a nelma that could barely fit inside the bathtub; of walks home from school during polar night, the Arctic’s season-​long twilight, while celestial lights cast “bits of blue, yellow, and pink” across the tundra.

“As usually happens with memories,” she says, “they started to transform into very surreal images that I started to question—​you know, whether it was even possible these kinds of things existed in the world. Is this town really like this, or was I just making it all up?”

[…]

Arbugaeva first returned to Tiksi in 2010. She was shocked, she says, by how decrepit the town had become. “The place was a nightmare. My heart was broken. I was walking alone on the streets crying.” With no choice but to make the best of it, she set about photographing through the wreckage, framing her childhood “through this layer of decay.”

So much gritty - yet still beautiful, frail - nostalgia made meta here.

themorningnews:

harharhar:

IT’S ON. The 10th annual Tournament of Books is almost here.

Get your brackets ready!

themorningnews:

harharhar:

IT’S ON. The 10th annual Tournament of Books is almost here.

Get your brackets ready!