RAMI KADI Un Souffle d’Orient Collection
WE ARE NOW ON PATREON! This was a really tough decision for me, but it ultimately came down to me wanting to expand this channel into something bigger and I can’t do it without your help!
Please check out our storytellers because their regular content is so DIFFERENT from each other. You’ll be sure to find something new:
— Eric Thomas (via dingyfeathers)
Tiny watercolor of the pine surrounded pond I saw today. #watercolor
I want to get people into Welcome to Night Vale, but it’s so hard to sell like “hey if you like gay radio show hosts and totalitarian governments and clouds that drop dead animals on small desert towns then boy do I have a show for you”
Anonymous said: how would you describe your aesthetic?
"Creep" by Radiohead
wait I love that term. can I join the order?
steve bb I just saw this but YES YOU MAY
rippergiles: I love Giles when he’s knowledgeable and bookish and the butt of the high schoolers’ jokes. I love Giles when he’s witty and snarky and 100% done with your shit. I love him when he tries to get into the spirit by wearing a ridiculous sombrero or full wizard robes. I love Giles when he’s protective and fatherly and the voice of reason, and I love Giles when he’s irresponsible and rebellious and blows smoke in Buffy’s face then goes to bang her mom. He’s flawed and a role model at the same time- which is much more realistic than the idolization some characters get. I love that he’s smart and witty, a trait I value above most. I love that he’s a bit underconfident (like when he performs at open mic nights) because I can definitely relate to it. I love that he only judges with Buffy’s best interests in mind and doesn’t shame her for the fiasco that followed losing her virginity. I love that he’s such a great father figure, because I’ve had issues with mine all my life. When he returned at the end of season six I felt my heart leap out of my chest, as forcefully as it had broken when he first left the show. (x)
1. “Are You Ten Years Ago,” Tegan and Sara - The Con
2. “What More Can I Say,” Jay-Z - The Black Album
3. “Snow Crush Killing Song,” The Mountain Goats - Sweden
4. “Jacksonville,” Sufjan Stevens - Illinoise
5. “Music for 18 Musicians: XIII. Section XI,” Steve Reich Ensemble - Music for 18 Musicians
6. “Ocean Avenue,” Yellowcard - Ocean Avenue
7. “She,” Laura Mvula - Sing to the Moon
8. “Kate,” Ben Folds Five - Whatever and Ever Amen
9. “Why, Oh Why?,” Woody Guthrie - The Asch Recordings
10. “Hey #3 / Perfect for You (Reprise),” Original Broadway Cast - Next to Normal
Tagged by Kassie! This is fairly representative of my music taste (alt-rock, hip-hop, musicals, indie). Anyone who wants to should do the ol’ tag ^^
Seeds That Fell On Stony Ground
The Garden at Prospect Cottage
It’s hard not to consider the garden that Derek Jarman created in the last years of his life as metaphor for his struggles in the face of illness from AIDS.
Near the end of his life and already suffering from the disease, the gifted filmmaker moved just two hours from London but to a different planet altogether. He purchased a piece of property and an itinerant shack that he transformed into a garden and cottage. It is located on an unforgiving stretch of the English seaside and in the shadow of the Dungeness nuclear power station. The area was never a seaside resort as the waters were not suitable for swimming and the weather less than lovely, to say the least.
Dungeness is perhaps the most unlikely place for an English garden. The only plant life that really flourishes are indigenous species like blackthorn, sea kale and gorse. But Jarman loved the area’s otherworldly atmosphere and almost unnatural light. These elements were sympathetic to his exacting yet lush aesthetic and he became a magpie sculptor, adapting stones, driftwood, found objects and discarded tools as he intervened to shape his land.
On one side of Prospect Cottage, Jarman lettered the lines from a passionate lyric by John Donne. In deepest black they read:
BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run ?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school-boys and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
In that the world’s contracted thus ;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that’s done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere ;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.