inked blood & bones

Sara Elizabeth.

'Lost' Bob Dylan lyrics make for 'New Basement Tapes' project

All my friends in one place!

Fossilized Fibonacci.

Fossilized Fibonacci.

hitrecord:

“like clockwork”

"I like my body
when it is with your body."

— e. e. cummings

speaking your name makes it all real and i feel weak by letting things spill out. 

i don’t want to write about you because i’m fearful it will become tangible.

i want you kept inside my mind. but you may not be safe there.

explore-blog:

The original Beautiful Mind, right here – a page from Sir Isaac Newton’s notebooks, courtesy of the Cambridge University Library.
Though Newton considered “making pies on Sunday” one of his 48 self-professed sins, he clearly had no reservations about making pi’s. 
Peek inside more famous creators’ notebooks here, and also see Van Gogh’s never-before-revealed sketchbooks.
(via @erik_kwakkel)

explore-blog:

The original Beautiful Mind, right here – a page from Sir Isaac Newton’s notebooks, courtesy of the Cambridge University Library.

Though Newton considered “making pies on Sunday” one of his 48 self-professed sins, he clearly had no reservations about making pi’s. 

Peek inside more famous creators’ notebooks here, and also see Van Gogh’s never-before-revealed sketchbooks.

(via @erik_kwakkel)

explore-blog:


No female reporter before her had ever seemed quite so audacious, so willing to risk personal safety in pursuit of a story. 

How to pack like Nellie Bly, pioneering Victorian journalist who raced around the world in 80 days.
UPDATE: By popular demand, the illustrated packing list is now available as a print.

11 days until my roadtrip and my list is five times this size. I think I need to do some reevaluating. 

explore-blog:

No female reporter before her had ever seemed quite so audacious, so willing to risk personal safety in pursuit of a story. 

How to pack like Nellie Bly, pioneering Victorian journalist who raced around the world in 80 days.

UPDATE: By popular demand, the illustrated packing list is now available as a print.

11 days until my roadtrip and my list is five times this size. I think I need to do some reevaluating. 

(Source: )

weirdvintage:

A well-dressed “Flusher”, a man who helped maintain London’s sewer system, 1950s (Scanned by WeirdVintage from Getty Images’ Decades of the 20th Century: 1950s by Nick Yapp)

weirdvintage:

A well-dressed “Flusher”, a man who helped maintain London’s sewer system, 1950s (Scanned by WeirdVintage from Getty Images’ Decades of the 20th Century: 1950s by Nick Yapp)

"enormous pockets, heavy boots"

I only have six days of high school left and it’s intriguing and it also scares me to pieces. Failure doesn’t scare me, I’ve failed all my life and have learned to cope, re-evaluate, and aim and ignite to whatever battle that shot cannons heavy into my mind. This is nothing new and has helped with my slow growing process into a human of our culture, which is what happens when you’re seventeen; you see and live the culture of the world you admire and battle with. I’m in pieces because I’m fearful of failure that doesn’t lead me through the rivers, canals, and pathways that transport me to a state I can call, or society can call, success; the failure that builds, never endures or processes or breathes, but builds towers. I’m fearful of the way failure can creep up time after time and instead of steer the boat, it weighs down with regrets and the unfulfilled life I’ve chosen. How heavy can things become before they are ripped to shreds and float into the air like they never existed? How heavy can my boat get until I suffocate  due to tied tongues, unworthy thoughts, and fear itself? How heavy can my mind become until it’s not mine anymore?

58/365

womanuntieyourtongue:

i have so many questions to ask

but i know that truth

will not be

who answers me back

"One must accept the fact that others don’t see what you do."

— Louise Bourgeois, Artist (via honeymooninthefridge)

(via maggieontherocks)

Seeing New York

Beautiful cinemagraphs of New York through lenses. 

belle bici.

belle bici.

"Somewhere deep down, in her labyrinth, her intricacy, the darkest part of her soul, she relished the mayhem.
She felt a sense of privilege for having such passion in her life.
He stirred her core.
The place she dared not enter.
The place she could not stir for herself.
But something wasn’t right.
His eyes were cold and dark.
His energy, unaffected.
He laughed at her and her antics, told her she was a mess.
Frantic, she looked for love hiding in his eyes, in his face, in his stance, and she found nothing but disdain.
And her heart stopped."

— G.G Renee Hill, The Beautiful Disruption