The Latest

filson:

celebrating one of America’s most influential naturalists and conservationists
May 30, 2014 / 6,716 notes

filson:

celebrating one of America’s most influential naturalists and conservationists

(via lajoiedespetiteschoses)

May 29, 2014 / 10,820 notes

fuckyeahawesomehouses:

Petrella Guidi Historical Hideaway, Italy

Found the house of my dreams.

(via nikolagriffin)

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
Chuck Klostermann, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story
May 24, 2014
photographersdirectory:


For the last few years I have dedicated my life completely to photography. It grew within me like weeds. It is all I think about, day and night. I see so much beauty in the real. Of all the art forms, I believe that photography is the only one that can accurately portray the beauty and fragility of time and of life. As a black man, I have been conditioned in life to believe that whiteness is the highest standard of beauty. Growing up, as I began to create myself, I couldn’t relate to the things in Vogue, or on television. I didn’t have the same experiences as the people that were shown. When I picked up the camera I decided that I would work extremely hard to not only capture the experience of black life in my street photography, but I would work hard to portray the beauty of being a person of color. This idea is what feeds me, this is what keeps me coming back every day. Feel free to check out my work at: gioncarlovalentine.com or instagram.com/gioncarlovalentine. Peace. 

Those are some stunning images!
May 7, 2014 / 202 notes

photographersdirectory:

For the last few years I have dedicated my life completely to photography. It grew within me like weeds. It is all I think about, day and night. I see so much beauty in the real. Of all the art forms, I believe that photography is the only one that can accurately portray the beauty and fragility of time and of life. As a black man, I have been conditioned in life to believe that whiteness is the highest standard of beauty. Growing up, as I began to create myself, I couldn’t relate to the things in Vogue, or on television. I didn’t have the same experiences as the people that were shown. When I picked up the camera I decided that I would work extremely hard to not only capture the experience of black life in my street photography, but I would work hard to portray the beauty of being a person of color. This idea is what feeds me, this is what keeps me coming back every day. Feel free to check out my work at: gioncarlovalentine.com or instagram.com/gioncarlovalentine. Peace.

Those are some stunning images!

Apr 19, 2014 / 2,259 notes

This is ridiculously beautiful…

(via thatkindofwoman)

Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal. Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep travelling honestly along life’s path.
Apr 18, 2014 / 44,345 notes
Some books are so familiar that reading them is like returning home again.
Jo March, Little Women   (via worldfallsdown)

(via nikolagriffin)

Apr 7, 2014 / 41,459 notes
Apr 7, 2014

Mitten ins Herz.

travelcamera:

Black sands of Iceland
Apr 7, 2014 / 361 notes

travelcamera:

Black sands of Iceland

(via thegiftsoflife)

Apr 6, 2014 / 2 notes

It’s been a ‘the-Tallest-Man-On-Earth’ kinda day.  

I tend to play sad(ish) music at night.  It just feels like the appropriate time.

Mar 18, 2014 / 12 notes

dedosconpolvo:

Dear Future Mom | March 21 - World Down Syndrome Day

Reblogging this because it’s beautiful and relevant.

(via deeperthanyoueverdared)

Mar 14, 2014 / 759 notes

thecomfortofbooks:

If I Should Have A Daughter by Sarah Kay (X)

If I should have a daughter, instead of “Mom,” she’s going to call me, “Point B.” Because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. 

And I’m going to paint the solar systems on the backs of her hands, so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.” And she’s going to learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.

“And baby,” I’ll tell her, “Don’t keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick. I’ve done it a million times. You’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him.” But I know she will anyway, so instead, I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rainboots nearby. Because there’s no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.

Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rainboots are for. Because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat. To look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind. Because that’s the way my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like this, “There’ll be days like this,” my mama said. When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly, and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape. When your boots will fill with rain, and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment, and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say, “Thank you.” Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shore line, no matter how many times it’s sent away. 

You will put the “wind” in “winsome… lose some.” You will put the “star” in “starting over… and over…” And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life. 

And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. 

“Baby,” I’ll tell her, “Remember, your mama is a worrier, and your papa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more. Remember that good things come in threes, and so do bad things, and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong. But don’t you EVER apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don’t ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.”

(via lav-ishes)

The Sky on Fire on Flickr.
Feb 20, 2014

The Sky on Fire on Flickr.

IMG_8278 on Flickr.
Feb 20, 2014

IMG_8278 on Flickr.

Larger than life. on Flickr.Look, it’s me.  On a wall.  Larger than life.  Sweet.
Dec 18, 2013

Larger than life. on Flickr.

Look, it’s me. On a wall. Larger than life. Sweet.