hah, the secret is out now

oozey mess
KIROKAZE
art blog(derogatory)
wallacepolsom
we're not kids anymore.

#extradirty
tumblr dot com

Origami Around
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

ellievsbear

★

blake kathryn
YOU ARE THE REASON
Today's Document
noise dept.

Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
Claire Keane
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@wittynonsense
hah, the secret is out now
I am a 20-year-old literature student in Amsterdam. This blog is basically a mix om my obsessions:...
I can't believe it's been just more than a year since I left tumblr. You know that feeling looking back at a year and thinking 'boy time sure did fly this year'? Yeah, that's not what my year was like. It feels more like 5 years have gone by since I left. I have been a busy person living a busy life, but shit has calmed down for now and I felt like trying tumblr again. So if you want my back on your dash go follow confidentmayhem, and if you have suggestions for awesome blogs that have popped up in the last year that I should follow let me know!
End of the queue, everyone. Thanks for sticking around.
Rajeev Balasubramanyam, In Beautiful Disguises
Color signatures of novels’ visual content by Jaz Parkinson. More. Looks like it may be possible to order prints, and even make requests!
(I just finished reading The Road and I can’t believe there is even THAT much color.)
UPDATE from the designer: prints are available, and you can make requests!
Anthony Sonnenberg
E. Charlton Fortune (1885–1969) The Señora’s Garden
— Cesare Pavese
Submitted by Anonymous
FOREST: LUNGS OF THE WORLD
František Kupka, The Cathedral
NASA Probe Gets Close Views of Large Saturn Hurricane
Holy hell … that’s gorgeous (and false-colored, sadly).
Edgar Allan’s Poe ‘The Raven’ Binding (2012) by Richard Tuttle
Bound in black goat leather covered boards, with feathered endpaper treatments to give impression of a raven in flight. Binding is 10” x 12” & is designed to be able to be displayed as a free standing work of art.
“Irreguliere” mixed-media work by Eva Eun-sil Han
Geometric Concrete Installations Echo Rippling Tides
Jacqueline Woodson, From the Notebooks of Melanin Sun
From The Old Astronomer (To His Pupil) by Sarah Williams
The full poem:
Reach me down my Tycho Brahé, — I would know him when we meet, When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet; He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how We are working to completion, working on from then to now. Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete, Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet, And remember men will scorn it, ‘tis original and true, And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you. But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn, You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn, What for us are all distractions of men’s fellowship and wiles; What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles. You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late, But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant’s fate. Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight; You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night. I leave none but you, my pupil, unto whom my plans are known. You “have none but me,” you murmur, and I “leave you quite alone”? Well then, kiss me, — since my mother left her blessing on my brow, There has been a something wanting in my nature until now; I can dimly comprehend it, — that I might have been more kind, Might have cherished you more wisely, as the one I leave behind. I “have never failed in kindness”? No, we lived too high for strife,— Calmest coldness was the error which has crept into our life; But your spirit is untainted, I can dedicate you still To the service of our science: you will further it? you will! There are certain calculations I should like to make with you, To be sure that your deductions will be logical and true; And remember, “Patience, Patience,” is the watchword of a sage, Not to-day nor yet to-morrow can complete a perfect age. I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater man may reap; But if none should do my reaping, ‘twill disturb me in my sleep So be careful and be faithful, though, like me, you leave no name; See, my boy, that nothing turn you to the mere pursuit of fame. I must say Good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot longer speak; Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak: It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,— God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars.