The layers of conservation come together with air. Other elements join the structure. The rise is more open to the sky.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Three Goblin Art
todays bird

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
will byers stan first human second
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin
noise dept.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
d e v o n

Kiana Khansmith
i don't do bad sauce passes
Mike Driver

No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER

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@movingassemblage
The layers of conservation come together with air. Other elements join the structure. The rise is more open to the sky.
It was the best time we had
FOG
the fog that envelops all memories of the distant place an effort - more than a simple fall it is as dense as thinking the mist that touches everything nothing escapes but everything hides when the last melancholy remembered the streets of manhattan walking the innocent steps still early and not knowing the saudade of a moment of longing for the things that will never happen i remember them where they stay touching everything enveloping nothing
There is no post. The post has been defined by the pre. The post depends on its resistance. In the physical structure of the city the historical center manifests this struggle and it is a difficult reality. But, in the post, there is an opportunity to unite the temporality and address the significance of human nature
Swooping shelters forget the entrance, tilted walls forget the exit
Go under the bridge and look for more power
Storage of mechanical carriages. The monolithic power of efficiency is apparent in the unexpected urban landscape.
One must not ask for urban vessels without urban repercussions. The distinctive formation of the layering of structures works toward imitating the passageway. Beware of the choice between that which can survive the elements and that which cannot. Steady, ahead.
There is a grid guiding gestures. Unnoticeable, passing as invisible, and determining the future of the urban setting… yet very much alive.
Structures standing in transformation. The recycling of a building as a surgical approach to the body of the urban agent.
Amongst the fog. Unexpected. A Southern California dream of sadness and melancholy. A refresher course and a reality check. I’m not happy about all the things but can see through parts of the mist. There is a deep and magical state within. And the fog has no channel, but ones wherever the currents take it. It is the landscape for itself. A landscape for itself.
Above smoking valleys, in the high Sierras of California, near the noble trees, awaits a version of that which is (elsewhere) infrastructure
Structural windows toward a redistribution of alternative angles and the shaping of visibility
In the distance, not enough to run away, from the fire walk, with everyone. Symbols can trigger a healthy dose of animalistic warning, but the desensitization is real.
Imagine what the layers of sudden destruction create. Even at the steps of real adrenaline, the city portrays stability.
Carving into the land{scape}. Silence is interrupted by non-aural slices of the ground and structures that found themselves as rooted - albeit with very little rhizomatics - and with just enough simplicity to pass as casual.