A Great Day in Harlem - Art Kane, 1958
A Great Day in Harlem Survivors - Gordon Parks, 1996lovely & sad.
People leave, things change but the memory is still there.
This is beautiful.
(via democracyoftouch)
I own way too many videogames I haven't played and books I haven't read yet.
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In 1936, in the midst of an unrelenting workload and the near-demise of his marriage, legendary landscape photographer Ansel Adams suffered a nervous breakdown. After a stay in hospital, desperately in need of escape, Adams then returned with his family to the one place where he could find solace: Yosemite, California.
Some months later, as his health returned, he wrote the following beautiful letter to his best friend, Cedric Wright.
June 19, 1937
Dear Cedric,
A strange thing happened to me today. I saw a big thundercloud move down over Half Dome, and it was so big and clear and brilliant that it made me see many things that were drifting around inside of me; things that related to those who are loved and those who are real friends.
For the first time I know what love is; what friends are; and what art should be.
Love is a seeking for a way of life; the way that cannot be followed alone; the resonance of all spiritual and physical things. Children are not only of flesh and blood — children may be ideas, thoughts, emotions. The person of the one who is loved is a form composed of a myriad mirrors reflecting and illuminating the powers and thoughts and the emotions that are within you, and flashing another kind of light from within. No words or deeds may encompass it.
Friendship is another form of love — more passive perhaps, but full of the transmitting and acceptance of things like thunderclouds and grass and the clean granite of reality.
Art is both love and friendship, and understanding; the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of Things, it is more than kindness which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is the recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the inter-relations of these.
I wish the thundercloud had moved up over Tahoe and let loose on you; I could wish you nothing finer.
Ansel
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"We construct a narrative for ourselves, and that’s the thread that we follow from one day to the next. People who disintegrate as personalities are the ones who lose that thread."
Paul Auster (via naomijade)
(Source: liquidnight, via naomijade)
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"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating …and you finish off as an orgasm."
George Carlin, 1937-2008 (via remote-viewer)
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"Life is short. Break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
Mark Twain (via julie911)
(via backshootingford)
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your ex-lover is dead: Love and Life by Albert Einstein →
Sometimes in our relentless effort to find the person we love, we fail to recognize and appreciate the people who love us. We miss out on so many beautiful things simply because we allow ourselves to be enslaved by our own selfish concerns.
Go for the man of deeds and not for the man of…
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"But as I drew near this ultramarathon, I wasn’t really thinking much about this. The end of the race is just a temporary marker without much significance. It’s the same with our lives. Just because there’s an end doesn’t mean existence has a meaning. An end point is simply set up as a temporary marker, or perhaps as an indirect metaphor for the fleeting nature of existence."
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Haruki Murakami (via digitalove)
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Let’s never come here again because it would never be as much fun.
Lost In Translation | Sofia Coppola; 2003
(via lordofwinterfells)
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OMG OMG OMG
You know that paper that I’ve been working on this semester? No? It’s about torture under various regimes, mainly the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. Fun stuff!
Anyway, today my professor spoke to me after class about this: the Columbia East Asia Review is having a call for undergraduates to submit papers! And she thinks mine is interesting enough for such an honor!
I might be a fucking published undergraduate. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Trying hard not to get too excited about this, you know, considering I might not get it, but damn.
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KARAOKE IN NYC TONIGHT!
Meeting a lot of Ally’s posse for the first time, woo. I’m pumped!
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THIS IS MY CURRENT STATE OF MIND!
It has come to my attention today, after meeting with my advisor, that I have SIX COURSES left in my undergrad degree. That’s including student-teaching. HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS. This means I’m taking three courses next semester, two next fall and just one (the student-teaching one) in the spring of 2012. I’m pretty sure I’m caught up with all of my electives, too!
I want to get most of my Master’s degree right after I graduate (but not the whole thing, since schools won’t hire you if you’re over-qualified), but still! This means I’ll have time to substitute as soon as…next fall! And I can start getting my foot in the door to hopefully find a job; even getting a position as a teacher’s assistant would be better than nothing at first. It will be difficult in this job market, but I’m going to get up in so many schools they won’t know what hit them. Watch out, Connecticut.
THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY.
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