Cundi Bodhisattva

@theartofmadeline

Andulka
RMH
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taylor price
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
todays bird
tumblr dot com
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we're not kids anymore.
Cosimo Galluzzi

Product Placement
One Nice Bug Per Day
NASA
untitled

tannertan36
Three Goblin Art

Kaledo Art
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@ecce-magnafelis
Cundi Bodhisattva
"The Eyes of God" -Prohodna Cave, Bulgaria (Source, I believe)
This is the full moon from inside a cave. It looks like two eyes staring down at you; beautiful.
lil' nature blog
J.R.R Tolkien, looking at flowers.
Apparently people hated to go for walks with him because he would stop and look at every tree for like 20 minutes.
screaming out of the void
backwards in a bucktooth loincloth
Still works.
Found in Vancouver, Canada by Colin
Gianni Pettena, About Non-Conscious Architecture, 1972 (via aqqindex)
I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim.
Frida Kahlo (via larmoyante)
Spectacular rendering of the solar system to scale
Salvador Dalì
The Shakespearean origin of our starling (Sturnus vulgaris) infestation — a little animated story from Skunk Bear’s latest video.
NPR Science’s Adam Cole explains the mystery of the missing martins!
I. Icarus is a lonely boy sitting in a cafe, with ink blistered wings tattooed into his sunburnt skin. He falls into beds like they’re seas and loves suns who don’t give a damn. Wax coats his fingers and he laughs, not knowing why. II. Cassandra lives in a room made of four windows. Strangers kiss her in dreams as she screams. She sees all, and none believe. “Unstable.” “Wicked.” “Tragic.” They whisper, protected behind planes of broken glass. III. Achilles offers triumphant smiles as he holds up bloody knuckles. He fights wars on street corners and shares his victory with his beloved. He runs in the moonlight, until his feet ache and his legs collapse. He knows the world is meant to be his, and he will conquer it all. IV. Pandora listens to the universe from the back of a philosophy class. She inhales chaos and exhales despair. Sweaters cover scarred wrists and misery clings to chapped lips. She worships with hollow, faithless eyes. They call her hopeless as she smiles, dried skin cracking. They know nothing. V. Orpheus plays his music in cigarette haze filled bars. He swallows pills and wine and never dies. He sees shadows flicker when he looks over his shoulder, consuming him. He forgets.
Myths and heroes, they adapt too part one | p.d (via ohsebs)