@sometimesitisonlytemporary - Tumblr Blog

Janlynn: Smokey Mountain Cats stitched by sgivens_i.

“Judgy Kittehs ask why it took 20 years to finish. Tsk tsk. Smokey Mountain Cats by Janlynn. So.Much.Blue.”

Caillebotte's Floor Scrapers, one of my favorite paintings on the planet. When I look at it I think, I see the same beauty he saw. I didn't even know it was here. In person it's even better -- luminous and grey at the same time.

[ID: a painting of three men refinishing a wooden floor; they are kneeling, shirtless, and the gleam of their skin matches the floor's alternating matte and shine. Behind them is a window that lights them; to the right is a bottle of wine for breaks.]

julykings

flowers for spring

happyheidi

Adriatic Sea by Mauro Roberto Scalabroni

eliasericson

cat dog vortex

mangonetics

If I was a baker and you ask for a dozen I'm making 13 cause fuck 12

dappledwithshadow

Sunflower Ernest Bieler 1910

pianta

i know why i am here… 💧🌟

★ twitter | ko-fi | ig | prints ★

serratedpens

Details from the scrapbook of Anne Sexton, which chronicles her elopement in the summer of 1948. She was 19 years old.

To look at her scrapbook now, long after it has been retired from active duty, is to observe at once a deep uncertainty—of herself, of her identity—and a kind of remarkable clarity, an emerging vision pieced together quite literally from scraps of paper, shards of a life. (Jessica Helfand)

howtobake-remaking

dont care didnt ask plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter

unclefather

Where do they sell these vests

mylordshesacactus

[id: a small, scruffy sand-colored dog with a sighthound or terrier build, looking up at the camera, wearing a navy blue vest with white block letters reading “Not keen on men”]

mountain-spirits-deactivated202

Ireland

pinene

Americans love Disneyland because it’s a walkable city

mercuryfountain-deactivated2024

That's actually a really popular analogy. Howard Kunstler wrote about Disneyland as a "capital of unreality," where "the public realm is packaged for sale as a commodity."

"Through the postwar decades Americans happily allowed their towns to be destroyed. They’d flock to Disneyland at Anaheim, or later to Disney World in Florida, and walk down Main Street, and think, gee, it feels good here. Then they’d go back home and tear down half the old buildings downtown and pave them over for parking lots, throw a parade to celebrate a new K Mart opening—even when it put ten local merchants out of business—turn Elm Street into a six-lane crosstown expressway, pass zoning laws that forbade corner grocery stores in residential neighborhoods and setback rules that required every new business to locate on a one-acre lot until things became so spread out you had to drive everywhere. They’d build the new central school four miles out of town on a busy highway so that kids couldn’t walk there. They’d do every fool thing possible to destroy good existing relationships between things in their towns, and put their local economies at the mercy of distant corporations whose officers didn’t give a damn whether these towns lived or died. And then, when vacation time rolled around, they’d flock back to Disney World to feel good about America."

If anyone's interested, The Geography of Nowhere is unrivaled as a crash course on and scathing critique of American postwar urban planning.