a small night storm blows

Soey Milk  -  Earthlings,  2015  (detail) 

South Korean, b. 1989 

Oil on canvas.

I just wanna go to the beach at night just to listen to the waves

The greatest and noblest pleasure we have in this world is to discover new truths, and the next is to shake off old prejudices.

 A man who seeks truth and loves it must be reckoned precious to any human society. 

Dünyanın bir ucuna,

Birlikte gider miyiz ?

you can tell a lot about someone from their morning routine. what they do and how they do it. what habits they've developed over long years of doing the same things a certain way. but stripping that back even further, i think you can tell a lot about someone's life from the sounds they hear every morning. i find myself now, a few months after starting a new job, in a similar routine every morning and encounter, more or less, the same noise. the steady whirl of fans. the quick patter of paws followed by a chirp and purr in the dark. the crash and bang of construction work outside the window. the familiar melody of one alarm, then two. "good morning" "good morning". the reluctant pull of the refrigerator door, the splash of water from the faucet, the click of the cupboard door. a kiss on E's cheek and the crinkle of keys. the soft tread of feet down stairs. outside, the hum of traffic. small snippets of conversation. the "yes please, thank you" at the coffee shop. the fold of the bus door, the chime for the next stop. all of these sounds define my morning, blur each day into a the same series of events and yet, i take comfort in them. i listen and make note of them, each one an indication that everything is as it should be. realizing that change might be as simple as filling your day with a different song.

Photographed by Anastasia Lisitsyna for Orchid22 Spring/Summer 2019.

Spring in Central Park, New York, USA, 1970.

Photography by Ernst Haas.

Sunlight and Shadow, 1862, Albert Bierstadt

Medium: oil,canvas

matiriga

details, danielle frankel fall 2021 rtw

Estaban hechos de manteca, miel silvestre y leche de rosas.

They were made of butter, wild honey, and milk of rose. 

— Louise Glück, from Sunrise