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@theartofmadeline

if i look back, i am lost
🪼
macklin celebrini has autism
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.
KIROKAZE
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$LAYYYTER
Xuebing Du
Cosimo Galluzzi

JVL
Sweet Seals For You, Always

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Monterey Bay Aquarium

blake kathryn
Not today Justin
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from Denmark
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
@fake-art
Cubist Popart Mona
Mona Lichtenstein
H. G. Wells - The Time Machine, Chapter 11.
I cannot convey the sense of abominable desolation that hung over the world. The red eastern sky, the northward blackness, the salt Dead Sea, the stony beach crawling with these foul, slow-stirring monsters, the uniform poisonous-looking green of the lichenous plants, the thin air that hurts one’s lungs: all contributed to an appalling effect. I moved on a hundred years, and there was the same red sun—a little larger, a little duller—the same dying sea, the same chill air, and the same crowd of earthy crustacea creeping in and out among the green weed and the red rocks. And in the westward sky, I saw a curved pale line like a vast new moon.
So I travelled, stopping ever and again, in great strides of a thousand years or more, drawn on by the mystery of the earth’s fate, watching with a strange fascination the sun grow larger and duller in the westward sky, and the life of the old earth ebb away. At last, more than thirty million years hence, the huge red-hot dome of the sun had come to obscure nearly a tenth part of the darkling heavens. Then I stopped once more, for the crawling multitude of crabs had disappeared, and the red beach, save for its livid green liverworts and lichens, seemed lifeless. And now it was flecked with white. A bitter cold assailed me. Rare white flakes ever and again came eddying down. To the north-eastward, the glare of snow lay under the starlight of the sable sky, and I could see an undulating crest of hillocks pinkish white. There were fringes of ice along the sea margin, with drifting masses farther out; but the main expanse of that salt ocean, all bloody under the eternal sunset, was still unfrozen.
froggin' along
Hands free interview.
Chillin in Venice. Ya boy Davie.
a four dimensional cube is hovering over the ocean, in front of a stony beach with overcast sky. it is shifting and moving, folding in upon itself in odd angles.
something different ... testing a bit of harryhausen styles
Cut-out boy
Creation of Steve
Creation of Adam