sometimes, somewhere

(Dior Cruise 2013 via StyleBubble)

Deceptively simple-looking, but actually all full of amazing angles.

Stop thinking about art works as objects, and start thinking about them as triggers for experiences. (Roy Ascott’s phrase.) That solves a lot of problems: we don’t have to argue whether photographs are art, or whether performances are art, or whether Carl Andre’s bricks or Andrew Serranos’s piss or Little Richard’s ‘Long Tall Sally’ are art, because we say, ‘Art is something that happens, a process, not a quality, and all sorts of things can make it happen.’ … [W]hat makes a work of art ‘good’ for you is not something that is already ‘inside’ it, but something that happens inside you — so the value of the work lies in the degree to which it can help you have the kind of experience that you call art.

Brian Eno (via jessiethatcher)

I could reblog/post this every day as a constant reminder.

(via notational)

And I’m sticking it up here for people who define the “good” in Make good art in ways that I definitely didn’t intend…

(via neil-gaiman)

A little girl just walked into the library in essentially this outfit, and now she’s my hero.
(via Polyvore)

A little girl just walked into the library in essentially this outfit, and now she’s my hero.

(via Polyvore)

thinhdong:

Frozen roses #1

thinhdong:

Frozen roses #1

As Patrick Henry so famously said:

shitmystudentswrite:

“Get me library or dead.”

(via These inside-out horses are both creepy and cool)
And… I’m in love. Again.

(via These inside-out horses are both creepy and cool)

And… I’m in love. Again.

(via This Is Not a Piñata, This Is a Real Donkey)
You are my favorite thing ever. You are a cross between a pony and a Puli. Or a Komondor and a bunny. Please come live with me and be my best friend.

(via This Is Not a Piñata, This Is a Real Donkey)

You are my favorite thing ever. You are a cross between a pony and a Puli. Or a Komondor and a bunny. Please come live with me and be my best friend.

(Dior Couture via StyleBubble)

(via Behold, The Madonnas of Science)

The first immigrants to Europe arrived thousands of years ago from central Asia. Most pre-contact Europeans lived together in small villages. Because the continent was very crowded, their lives were ruled by strict hierarchies within the family and outside it to control resources. Europe was highly multi-ethnic, and most tribes were ruled by hereditary leaders who commanded the majority “commoners.” These groups were engaged in near constant warfare.

Pre-contact Europeans wore clothing made of natural materials such as animal skin and plant and animal-based textiles. Women wore long dresses and covered their hair, and men wore tunics and leggings. Both men and women liked to wear jewelry made from precious stones and metals as a sign of status. Before contact, Europeans had very poor diets. Most people were farmers and grew wheat and vegetables and raised cows and sheep to eat. They rarely washed themselves, and had many diseases because they often let their animals live with them.

Religion infused every part of Europeans’ lives. Europeans believed in one supreme deity, a father figure, who they believed was made of three parts, and they particularly worshiped the deity’s son. They claimed that their god had given humans domination over the earth. They built elaborate temples to him and performed ceremonies in which they ate crackers and drank wine and believed it was the body and blood of their god, who would provide them with entrance into a wondrous afterlife called heaven when they died. Many wars were fought over disagreements about the details of this religion, each group believing their interpretation was the right one that should be spread across the land.

(via VectorBelly Webcomics)
picadorbookroom:

In honor of Children’s Book Week, here’s a photo of an awesome kid.

picadorbookroom:

In honor of Children’s Book Week, here’s a photo of an awesome kid.

ifeelbetterer:

damngruchy:

hailthelordylordypicca:

i wish someone loved me the way Jay Gatsby loves Daisy

NO YOU DON’T

WHAT