a quiet clstrfck

[irenelichtensteinblog]

Iwona Jasinska, Self

[fragrantblossoms]

Marion Wulz.  Wanda Wulz dances in Anita Pittoni’s “gypsy-style” jute dress, ca. 1937.

[absurdfuture]

I’m listening

But I don’t know

If what I hear is silence

Or God.

I’m listening

But I can’t tell

If I hear the plane of emptiness echoing

Or a keen consciousness

That at the bounds of the universe

Deciphers and watches me.

I only know that I walk like someone

Beheld,

Beloved,

And known.

And because of this

I put into my every movement

Solemnity and risk.

    - Sophia de Mello-Breyner

[thingsmagazine]

Henri Cartier-Bresson, La Plaine de la Brie, 1968

[yama-bato]

Robert Mapplethorpe

Parrot Tulip, 1987

Parrot Tulip 1988

[yama-bato]

Robert Mapplethorpe

Tulip, 1985, 1985

[noirage]

Inghild Karlsen, positions for Reflex, 1982

[mybeingthere]

Andrew Nuding, Making Strange.Andrew Nuding was born in Dublin, Ireland. Nuding graduated from The NCAD Fine Art Media (Ireland), in 2015. He lives in London.

[bulkbinbox]

jovem de mezőkövesd, hungria, 1930. foto de hans hildebrand.

[bebemoon]

tiny glassy “pearls” called microtektites found in fossilised shell remains .

“for 13 years scientists have been clueless to the origin of these translucent beads”

“new evidence suggests that the pearls are microtektites, a byproduct of an ancient meteorite impact”

“these cosmic remains were encapsulated in two to three million year old shell fossils”

[bulkbinbox]

dilara findikoglu primavera 2019

[bulkbinbox]

dilara findikoglu primavera 2019

[basvandepoel]

[absurdfuture]

I am not I. I am this one walking beside me whom I do not see, whom at times I manage to visit, and whom at other times I forget; who remains calm and silent while I talk, and forgives, gently, when I hate, who walks where I am not, who will remain standing when I die.

Juan Ramon Jimenez

[janasojka]

Night Landscape.

[iamjapanese]

James Corner（American, b.1961）

From the book “Taking Measures Across the American Landscape”  1996      Photos taken by Alex MacLean     via

James Corner, internationally renowned landscape architect and forerunner of the landscape urbanism movement, was author in 1996 of “Taking Measures Across the American Landscape“, an exploration of American types of landscapes through essays and map drawings by Corner and aerial photos taken by Alex McLean.

“(The book) investigates the ways in which landscape representation–particularly aerial vision–not only reflects a given reality but also constitutes a way of seeing and acting in the world. It discusses the many meanings of measure–from practical (such as solar furnaces in California) to poetic (such as raised tablets in Illinois that once formed the structure of an ancient city). And it suggests alternative possibilities for planning and taking future measures in our environment, building upon examples that range from the rectilinear survey landscape to the great transportation networks and such technological innovations as windmill fields, pivot-irrigation systems, and radio-telescope installations.” From the Yale University Press      text from SOCKS

[absurdfuture]

If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star. For there is many a small betrayal in the mind, a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood storming out to play through the broken dike. And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail, but if one wanders the circus won't find the park, I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty to know what occurs but not recognize the fact. And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy, a remote important region in all who talk: though we could fool each other, we should consider— lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark. For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep; the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe — should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

A Ritual to Read to Each Other by William Stafford