theonion:

If Cast And Crew Of Local Production Of ‘The Music Man’ Being Honest, ‘Marian The Librarian’ Number Needs Work | Full Report

theonion:

If Cast And Crew Of Local Production Of ‘The Music Man’ Being Honest, ‘Marian The Librarian’ Number Needs Work | Full Report

I know when a story is finished when there is not a single thing more I can think to do to it. And since I know at the start what the last line will be, I know when I’ve reached that point as logically as I can that it’s finished. As for the rewriting—it’s not foolproof, of course, but if you’re honest about having thought of every possibility and you still come back to what you have, what more can you do? — Amy Hempel (via ohhhangelo)

Shelley Jackson’s Skin project, a 2095-word story published exclusively in tattoos, one word each on as many willing volunteers, so it can never be read in its proper order, but just exists, pulsing, out in the world at all times. 

Shelley Jackson’s Skin project, a 2095-word story published exclusively in tattoos, one word each on as many willing volunteers, so it can never be read in its proper order, but just exists, pulsing, out in the world at all times. 

(via biscotter)


[x]

[x]

(via jackrusso)

jinxley:

i tried to invoke the powers of jesus on my history test but the lord has failed me

jinxley:

i tried to invoke the powers of jesus on my history test but the lord has failed me

(via biscotter)

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Susanna Hertrich. Chrono-Shredder.
The machine as performer. Chrono-Shredder (2007-2012, various iterations) is a poetic device with functions similar to those of a calendar and a clock, it continuously shreds every single day—minute after minute, hour after hour. All that time that is irreversibly lost, obtains a tangible existence in the form of shredded paper. As time passes by, the tattered remains of the past pile up under the device.
 
 
 
Website

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Susanna Hertrich. Chrono-Shredder.

The machine as performer. 
Chrono-Shredder (2007-2012, various iterations) is a poetic device with functions similar to those of a calendar and a clock, it continuously shreds every single day—minute after minute, hour after hour. All that time that is irreversibly lost, obtains a tangible existence in the form of shredded paper. As time passes by, the tattered remains of the past pile up under the device.

 

 

 

Website

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Susanna Hertrich.

Why Not / Road

Why Not / Tube

Why Not / Bridge

 

A pleasurable play with »dark thoughts« (2009). Why Not offers a glimpse into the dark side of the subconscious and so, celebrates an uncanny encounter with the repressed side of one’s personality.

crocketingsolly:


“I can’t believe it….I’m on a box of cookies!”

crocketingsolly:

“I can’t believe it….I’m on a box of cookies!”

(via starsofyoursoul)

maddievertes:

hylandbrooke:

oh

 buy friends

maddievertes:

hylandbrooke:

oh

buy friends

(via biscotter)

theonion:

Vain Galápagos Tortoise Trying To Pass For 90 | Full Report

theonion:

Vain Galápagos Tortoise Trying To Pass For 90 | Full Report

patrickdouglas:

farewell-kingdom:

Nina Katchadourian - Sorted Books

“I suddenly recalled a moment in the university library when, looking for a book, I had turned my head sideways as I walked down the stacks and thought how spectacular it would be if all the titles formed an accidental sentence when read one after the other in a long chain. Standing amidst the bookshelves in Half Moon Bay, my next move was simply to make this imaginary accident real. I spent days shifting and arranging books, composing them so that their titles formed short sentences. The exercise was intimate, like a form of portraiture, and it felt important that the books I selected should function as a cross section of the larger collection.”

Oh my god, what an inspired idea.  These are really powerful! 

(via biscotter)

The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering. Ben Okri (via cosmofilius)

(via like-air-i-rise)