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Sade Olutola
dirt enthusiast
No title available
styofa doing anything
tumblr dot com
shark vs the universe
Show & Tell
Origami Around
sheepfilms
titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER
@theartofmadeline
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
NASA
tannertan36
occasionally subtle
taylor price
seen from Maldives
seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Japan
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seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
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seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
@odditypeaks
Every town has a museum of almost forgotten sounds. It's not a building. It's the collective memory of:
The specific hum of a since replaced streetlight.
The jingle of a ice cream truck you can't quite remember the name of.
The sound of a particular loved one's car pulling into the driveway.
What's a exhibit in your personal museum? What's a sound you can still hear perfectly in your head, even though the world has gone silent around it?
Every town has a museum of almost forgotten sounds. It's not a building. It's the collective memory of:
The specific hum of a since replaced streetlight.
The jingle of a ice cream truck you can't quite remember the name of.
The sound of a particular loved one's car pulling into the driveway.
What's a exhibit in your personal museum? What's a sound you can still hear perfectly in your head, even though the world has gone silent around it?
There's a particular kind of fear that doesn't feel like a threat. It feels like a visit from an old, quiet friend.
It's the chill you get reading a favorite ghost story for the tenth time. It's the creak of the house settling that you've known since childhood. It's the pleasant shiver of wind on the back of your neck on a foggy walk.
What is your 'old, familiar fear'? The one that feels more like a comfort than a danger.
Describe a completely normal, everyday sound that somehow unsettles you.
I'll start: the specific silence in a house after a refrigerator turns off.
My grandmother told me this once, in a hushed tone: 'Never count the graves in a cemetery you pass. The number will never be the same twice. And when you realize it's changed, the extra one will be waiting for you to notice.'
She refused to ever speak of it again. What's a piece of folklore from your roots that everyone wants to forget?
Let's define a new word for the feeling of recognizing a stranger.
All suggestions will be considered by the Department of Odd Linguistics.
If a memory is never recalled again, does it still exist? Or does it only live in the moment it was made?
I found this written on a scrap of paper tucked inside a library book:
'The key is not in the lock, but in the sound it doesn't make.'
What do you think it means?