Who’d have known your stomach could double as a camera?
Two UK students, Josh Lake and Luke Evans, ate 35mm film and were able to process photos after the film, erm, came out!
Bus ride conversations
- A: You wrote cards for all fifteen people?? What do you have to say to someone you don't really know?
- B: I've lived with my mother all my life, but I only know what she's like for half of hers. It takes forever to truly know someone, let alone seven days to know fifteen people. I caught only a glimpse of each person in this trip. Someone who always checks if everyone's doing okay. Another who's always the first to fetch the cement. The one who makes everyone laugh, especially at the hottest part of the day. Although it's just the surface of who that person really is, I will write about that one thing. Because it is real, and that is enough.
Posted May 30, 2012 at 2:28am
I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it — or my observation of it — is temporary?
- John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
(via artpixie)
There are some fish that cannot be caught. It’s not that they’re faster or stronger than other fish. They’re just touched by something extra.
— Big Fish
Posted May 20, 2012 at 12:58am
People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in the ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.
— Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale
Posted May 14, 2012 at 1:54am
Madrid Spain based artist collective Boa Mistura recently gave a small corner of Brazil one very colorful and meaningful typographic makeover. Working with the inhabitants, including the children of Brasilândia Vila, a poor suburb on the outskirts of São Paulo, the team took the narrow streets and covered them with vibrent, colorful paint, leaving only the beautiful words beleza, amor, doçura, firmeza and orgulho (beauty, love, sweetness, firmness and pride) painted on the walls. The bold white typography is drawn in perspective down the narrow corridors, revealing itself to passerby for only a moment as they walk past the one location where the lines merge into the form of words.
When Life Stings
it is late, god wakes me up with a whisper and i look around waiting for a sign.
but instead i walk to the bathroom and see the two o’clock moon through the windows in the lounge. surely the lord is in this place.
the water hammers down and the steam rises, the shower is one of the few places to cry in college. before my toe hits the water the tears have begun to come and my words begin to fail me but i keep them coming.
why do i try so hard god when she tries so little it appears? why do i bend over to make it happen and the same is never done for me? why does the world of this relationship have to change and come down when my whole world is changing? cannot one thing stay the same besides you god?
life is about altars, it was never about the applause of being loved by others.
and the steam rises with my words and prayers straight to the ears of an all listening god. and my words shift to the problem at hand, how do i tell someone everything they are doing is wrong? how do i tell them the path was right and now it is time to change? just because something seems good and god was working in it doesnt mean it will always work. how do i share that? how do i tell someone i think they are making a mistake?
someone i care about more than i think they will ever care about me. how do i form the words to bring their life crashing down so it can be replaced by something better?
i really dont know. but god does.
i step out of the shower and my feet prickle with the cold of the tile, and then it begins to sting.
when life stings a little, sometimes the only thing to do is find the true source of the sting.
