Photographs of Devon and Cornwall by Hardwicke Knight, 1950s (via).
NASA
untitled
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Mike Driver

@theartofmadeline

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almost home
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
trying on a metaphor

pixel skylines

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🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
cherry valley forever

Kiana Khansmith
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
art blog(derogatory)
wallacepolsom
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@alchemists
Photographs of Devon and Cornwall by Hardwicke Knight, 1950s (via).
i see my future unfolding in front of me
“People can’t anticipate how much they’ll miss the natural world until they are deprived of it. I have read about submarine crewmen who haunt the sonar room, listening to whale songs and colonies of snapping shrimp. Submarine captains dispense “periscope liberty” - a chance to gaze at clouds and birds and coastlines - and remind themselves that the natural world still exists. I once met a man who told me that after landing in Christchurch, New Zealand, after a winter at the South Pole research station, he and his companions spent a couple of days just wandering around staring in awe at flowers and trees. At one point, one of them spotted a woman pushing a stroller. “A baby!” he shouted, and they all rushed across the street to see. The woman turned the stroller and ran. Nothing tops space as a barren, unnatural environment. Astronauts who had no prior interest in gardening spend hours tending experimental greenhouses. “They are our love,” said cosmonaut Vladislav Volkov of the tiny flax plants - with which they shared the confines of Salyut 1, the first Soviet space station. At least in orbit, you can look out the window and see the natural world below. On a Mars mission, once astronauts lose sight of Earth, they’ll be nothing to see outside the window. “You’ll be bathed in permanent sunlight, so you won’t eve see any stars,” astronaut Andy Thomas explained to me. “All you’ll see is black.””
— Mary Roach. Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void. (via hummeline)
long-eared bat
Psalter, England c. 1360-1400
Bodleian Library, Exeter College MS 47, fol. 21v
“The sea is still, there is no storm. There will be fish for dinner.” Linocut by A. Kulakov.
Mermaid and fishermen in a harbor, 1924, Antoine (Anto) Carte. Belgian (1886 - 1954)
the fact that phones dont have little charm loops in them anymore only goes to show that humanity as we know it is on the decline
Ginkgo chair by Claude LeLanne
(via Tilton Fenwick)
Gay pulp Paper Back
The Iron Crown (Kaneto Shindō, 1972)
Phenomena || dir. Dario Argento (1985)
If the “emotional labor” you’re going through isn’t something your income and livelihood is dependent on, it’s not emotional labor. That term specifically exists for the way working class people especially sex workers and retail workers have to regulate and suppress their emotions and the way their livelihood is dependent on that. If you’re using that term to describe your interpersonal relationships and your friends and partners wanting emotional support, you’re obnoxiously misusing that term.
The use of “labor” in emotional labor is literal. It’s talking about your actual labor. Your job. Your way of making money. It isn’t a metaphor for listening to your friends talk.
Gunpowder flask made from a lobster claw, American, 18th-19th century.
from Sofe Design Auctions
1.06/3.04 Virginia’s wheelies