Archives for the Date January 30th, 2020

twloha: Roman Ondak began with just a bare white canvas of…

twloha:

Roman Ondak began with just a bare white canvas of walls. He was the first one to measure himself against the wall. The exhibit was then open to others who were also encouraged to add a piece of themselves to the artwork. He entitled it Measuring the Universe and soon the walls were covered in names of people with different heights and stories. An estimated 90,000 people have written their names to help contribute to the piece of growing and living art.

“I think it really does begin to make you think about ideas of space in the universal and the infinite in a really interesting way but it is also very, very personal and this sense of this kind of white void when the exhibition opened being slowly built by all of these points, these names and it is almost like a kind of constellation of stars.” 

(Images via MoMA)

greatmindquotes: “What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.” – Ralph Waldo…

greatmindquotes:

“What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

mattynerdock: Pet: *falls asleep* Me: *lies down in front of them, gets three inches from their…

mattynerdock:
Pet: *falls asleep*
Me: *lies down in front of them, gets three inches from their face, and stares at them for 30 minutes*

wehadfacesthen: Choreographer Busby Berkeley works with the…

wehadfacesthen:

Choreographer Busby Berkeley works with the ladies of the chorus during rehearsals for 42nd Street (Lloyd Bacon & Busby Berkeley, 1933)

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ladyviolethummingbird:Great story, highly recommend! 😊fierceweebadger:Chapter 2: Ready or NotParis,…

ladyviolethummingbird:

Great story, highly recommend! 😊

fierceweebadger:

Chapter 2: Ready or Not

Paris, 2035

Jamie and Claire abandoned their bar stools for a cozy table by the window, bathed in the glow of a single candle perched between them.

They sipped their wine in silence for a minute before Claire blurted out the question that was uppermost in her mind. “What brings you back to Paris, Jamie? In town for long?”

“The crew and I just got in yesterday. Here for a fortnight to sort out some bits and bobs at headquarters. Paperwork. Never-ending medical checks,” he chuckled softly. “All the less fun parts of the job, I’m afraid.”

A small sigh of relief escaped her lips, from a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “So…you’re still an astronaut then?”

The smile that lit Jamie’s face was one of pure, unadulterated joy. It was such a childlike expression that Claire could vividly picture the small boy he had once been, curls flying wildly as he zoomed around the house — toy rocket ship raised high above his head — leaping from furniture despite shouted injunctions to “be careful!”

“Aye, lass, I am still. And I thank God for it every day. I dinna ken how to be anything else.”

She could see the gratitude in his face, not just for God but for her as well; for helping to save a little boy’s dreams and a brave man’s heart. There were words there, so many words lurking behind those eyes, but he seemed to recognise that the speaking of them was unnecessary.

The intensity of their gaze was almost overwhelming, and Claire was actually relieved when the arrival of their surly waiter burst the moment like a soap bubble.

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