#sisal

[vintagehomecollection]

The textural contrast of walls, flooring and upholstery in this room gives life to the pale colours used. Trompe l'oeil stone walls and marble-topped table are countered by the more informal arrangement of armchairs and side tables. The neutral tones and the symmetry of the room's design give a classical appearance.

Color in Decoration, 1990

[keepingitneutral]

Casa Gruta, Sisal, Valladolid, Yucatán, Mexico,

Salvador Román Hernández, Adela Mortéra Villarreal,

Fabian Martinez Photography

[toyastales]

Neutral Serenity

[obscurestchiaroscurist]

I know y'all are here for IEYTD art, but my family issues are happening and I'm emotionally attached to Silent Salt Cookie to cope. I just had to draw Sisal and Nox.... I'll continue my IEYTD headcanons later.

the silly

[ginger-by-the-sea]

[omega-shiva]

[quotesfrommyreading]

It is no exaggeration to say that from the invention of sailing through the late 18th century, the economic prosperity, scientific progress, and military success of most nations around the globe fundamentally depended on string and rope. For much of this time, there were no major revolutions in sailing technology. Instead, there were elaborations and restructurings of an ancient template: a roughly crescent wooden vessel equipped with at least one mast and sail, and webbed with plenty of rigging. Toward the end of the age of sail, some of the more ostentatious designs verged on the absurd; certain full-rigged ships were so bedecked with line and linen that they looked more like parade floats than instruments of trade and war.

By the late 1700s, engineers in England, France, Scotland, and North America were experimenting with steamboats. In 1822, the Aaron Manby became the first iron steamship to go to sea, traveling across the English Channel from London to Paris. By the 1860s, the British, French, and Russian navies had heavily armed steamships. After this, “a great epoch in naval history came to an end,” write Romola and R. C. Anderson in The Sailing Ship: Six Thousand Years of History.

But it was not the end of the line for cordage. Even today’s motorized metal behemoths, slicing through the sea at unprecedented speeds, rely on rope and string. Terry Schafer, a navy shipyard rigger in Victoria, British Columbia, has been professionally tangled with cordage since the 1980s. “When I finished my apprenticeship, I worried I had chosen a dying craft,” he says. “But there is still a lot of demand for a skilled rigger today.” Schafer and his colleagues manufacture all the cordage the navy requires: tow ropes; hoist cables for cranes, winches, and dumbwaiters; woven fenders that cloak the lips of tugboats like mustaches and beards; ropes to tie the ships at harbor; ropes that fly the navy’s flags; and artfully knotted ropes to ring the bells that help sailors keep strict schedules. Schafer mostly works with synthetic materials including Kevlar, various plastics, and metal wire. But he occasionally uses plant fibers as well: cotton, flax, manila hemp (from a species of banana), sisal (from agave), and coir (from the waterproof buoyant husks of coconuts).

 —   The Long, Knotty, World-Spanning Story of String

[chasingrainbowsforever]

~ Pale Yellows ~