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Photography #SubmissionFriday:
justinpoulsenphoto:

Fast Food Weaponry - Justin Poulsen

sfmoma:

Photography #SubmissionFriday:

justinpoulsenphoto:

Fast Food Weaponry - Justin Poulsen

lanclscape:

7

all in

lanclscape:

7

all in

theparisreview:

Like a flower, little light, you openand we make believewe die. We die all aroundyou like a snake in a well and we come up outof the warm well andare born again out of drymammas, nourishing mammas, alwaysholding you as Ilove you and amrevived inside you, butdie in you and amnever born again inthe same place; neverstop!
—Joseph Ceravolo, from “Ho Ho Ho Caribou.”Photography credit Juan Martin Uranga.

full words and thoughts

theparisreview:

Like a flower, little light, you open
and we make believe
we die. We die all around
you like a snake in a
well and we come up out
of the warm well and
are born again out of dry
mammas, nourishing mammas, always
holding you as I
love you and am
revived inside you, but
die in you and am
never born again in
the same place; never
stop!

Joseph Ceravolo, from “Ho Ho Ho Caribou.”
Photography credit Juan Martin Uranga.

full words and thoughts

krismukai:

fantastic

krismukai:

fantastic

In celebration of the female form?

In celebration of the female form?

It is hard for a flat thing to understand a round one.
Arthur Dove (via apoetreflects)
phuggish:

THE ROAD

phuggish:

THE ROAD

millionsmillions:

We already knew that Haruki Murakami was a writer and runner but a former jazz club owner, too? Aaron Gilbreath visited Murakami’s 1970s jazz club, Peter Cat, and found “a drab three-story cement building. Outside, a first-floor, a restaurant had set up a sampuru display of plastic foods.” For more Murakami, read our review of 1Q84.

I know another Peter Cat, perhaps everyone will meet him someday. As for now he’s keeping somebody company, and there he’ll stay for a while

millionsmillions:

We already knew that Haruki Murakami was a writer and runner but a former jazz club owner, too? Aaron Gilbreath visited Murakami’s 1970s jazz club, Peter Cat, and found “a drab three-story cement building. Outside, a first-floor, a restaurant had set up a sampuru display of plastic foods.” For more Murakami, read our review of 1Q84.

I know another Peter Cat, perhaps everyone will meet him someday. As for now he’s keeping somebody company, and there he’ll stay for a while

my mate Greg, who makes films

my-memory-palace:

~Brooklyn~

streetz :)