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davykesey: This evening was the last of four times this summer when the sunset perfectly aligns with the grid of Manhattan. The view was incredible, of course, but what really struck me is the effect it had on the city. People flood the streets, traffic slows, and everyone takes it in. An entire city pauses for a moment to stop and simply marvel. It was beautiful.

(via literarymiscellany)

"Between your lips,
the dark field meets a night sky. I am inside
each ragged breath and the pause between."

- Carole Glasser Langille, from “When You’re Not Here and When You Are,” Late in a Slow Time (Mansfield Press, 2003)

(Source: a-pair-of-ragged-claws, via literarymiscellany)

buttsweats:

where i work we rent out a variety of buildings and to make a long story short i’m going to hell

(via seieko-pherdo)

"There is a song the body sings to itself
about time’s arrow, that has pierced
Its sentimental shining heart: about the eternal
flow of fire over the medulla oblongata,
And the oceanic backwash of lymph
in the cells’ interstices. Call that song an angel.
Call it space. The body sings, and does not know
or care about the corrosive dark matter
Sealed in burial urns. The body sings, and when it stops
for breath, nothing sings back its harmony."

- T. R. Hummer, “Maria Ranier Rilke, 1875-1926,” from Urn: Poems (Diode Editions, 2014) (via A Poet Reflects)

(via literarymiscellany)

Witch Doctors at The Eye of The Solar Epoch . 
Shawn Thornton
the-strange-story-of-an-artist-with-pineal-cancer
spiritbreather:

marjoleinhoekendijk:

jameschouphotography:

Circle of Life- This past January and February, we had a rare opportunity to observe the birth cycle of an Anna’s hummingbird up close.
By chance, we spotted a hummingbird nest on a bamboo groove about 15 feet away from our courtyard balcony.  For the next several weeks, we had front row seats to witness the incredible process of eggs transformed into fledglings.
We were ecstatic and sad the day the two fledglings left the nest. But our hummingbird story didn’t end there.
The very next day, during my daily jog around Arroyo Seco trail, I found this dead hummer on the ground near the Farm. It must have flew into a window and broke it’s neck. Wanting to give it a proper burial, I placed it on this leaf and carried it back to the Farm before resuming my jog.  When I finally got home half an hour later, the setting sun cast a sharp light streak across the studio floor so I hastily setup my camera to memorialized this hummer.  Natural light is beautiful.


gorgeous
nevver:

Jorge Luis Borges