
tannertan36
almost home
cherry valley forever
Sweet Seals For You, Always
🪼
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
h
NASA
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle

No title available
untitled

Andulka
noise dept.
todays bird

bliss lane
One Nice Bug Per Day
seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Algeria
seen from Belarus
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Algeria
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Brazil
seen from Algeria

seen from Malaysia

seen from South Korea

seen from Italy
@nauticalnortherner
kevin hense
!!!
Riverbank in Springtime, Vincent van Gogh
1887
Breakfast nook continued from kitchen cabinetry. Built in seating with picture window.
thinking about this bit from an article by Ann Druyan in 2003:
“When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me – it still sometimes happens – and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous – not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful… The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived.
That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday.
I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”
virginia woolf's 1931 new years resolutions : "to have none. not to be tied. to be free & kindly with myself. sometimes to read, sometimes not to read. to go out, yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked. as for clothes, i think to buy good ones."
Jackson Heights is all decked out for the holidays, early 1950s.
Photo: Ewing Galloway/Alamy