Triptych

Emilia, a nerd/ruthless cake eater. Just four limbs short of an octopus. On a mission to contact extraterrestrial life and beat them at Chinese Checkers.

[thelesserbear-blog]

Out with the old, in with the new.

[vriginsuicides-deactivated20160]

…But if a mirror ever makes you sad you should know that it does not know you.

Kabir  (via cultivate-solitude)

[thelesserbear-blog]

Persatuan Benci Dunia

[aw1998monsters]

[thelesserbear-blog]

[mei-go]

[fixatedonfashion]

Lip Service from Tush N. 23 Editorial

[lilbittydragon-deactivated20241]

this is everything I never knew I wanted from a lipstick ad. 

[foxandseek]

i can’t

[loveanddrevenge-deactivated2013]

PERFECT

[eilenebeniquez]

IM. OBSESSED.

[fuckyeahexistentialism]

funny and surprisingly existential as Louis CK gives his reason for not giving smartphones to his children

[symphonyofthecosmos]

Keep showing up. Keep showing up to your canvas, to your novel, to your memoir, to your guitar, to your yoga mat, to the dance floor, to the floor of your closet, to the forest, to your bike, to your running shoes…Keep showing up to your craft—whatever it is—keep showing up.

(via symphonyofthecosmos)

[miesencianoesmihistoria]

[d1ssimilis]

CHANDLER

[theapatheticsavior-blog]

the teachers at my high school do this to the graffiti in the bathrooms and i literally cant

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

To round out our series on fluid dynamics in the Ig Nobel Prizes (which are not the same thing as the actual Nobel Prizes), here are some of the other winners. Last year Mayer and Krechetnikov won for a study on coffee sloshing when people walk. We’ve mentioned the pitch-drop experiment measuring the viscosity of an extremely viscous fluid a couple times; Mainstone and Parnell won a 2005 Ig Nobel for that (on-going) work. Another 2005 prize went to Meyer-Rochow and Gal for calculating the pressures involved in penguin defecation. (Yes, seriously.) A avian-related award was also handed out to B. Vonnegut for estimating tornado wind speeds by their ability to strip a chicken of its feathers. And, finally, for those looking to interest undergraduate lab students in mathematics and fluid dynamics, I suggest following the lead of 2002 winner A. Leike who demonstrates laws of exponential decay with beer head. (Photo credit: S. Depolo)

[memecollection]

[nogreatillusion]

I greeted a locksmith late one night when our front door surrendered to age and humidity and simply refused to open. If I had been in another kind of mental space, the kind I’d been in for much of the preceding year, this might have seemed like a metaphor. But, I was finding, something happens when you are genuinely content: you spend less time thinking in figurative language. The literal suffices.

Lucy Morris, You Live Alone (via nogreatillusion)

[sfmoma]

Today SFMOMA curator of photography Corey Keller responded to all sorts of questions for Ask a Curator Day on Twitter, and you can read the digestible transcript of the conversation here.

[thelesserbear-blog]

[thelesserbear-blog]

On Talking

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape. And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence. When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue. Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear; For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered When the colour is forgotten and the vessel is no more.

Khalil Gibran