INFMETRY star projector.
IF ANYONE IS EVER LOOKING FOR A GIFT…*cough*
THERE HAS TO BE A CATCH.
GUYS I’M TURNING 15
LIKE IN 2 MONTHS
A particle of light in the sun’s center—so densely Labyrinthine is the star—takes
1,000,000 years to reach the sun’s surface.
8 minutes from the sun’s surface to my eye.
The eye is made of the light by which it sees. Every eye, and all the world which
enters through the pin-hole of the eye, is 1,000,000 years and 8 minutes old.
—Dan Beachy-Quick, from “First, section 1” in This Nest, Swift Passerine: A Poem (Tupelo Press, 2009)
Sabbath by Paul Delvaux, 1962. Oil on canvas, 160 x 260 cm.
- Groucho Marx
Got this quote because it reminds me that mental illness doesn’t have to be negative all of the time.
Done at No Hard Feelings Tattoo in Coral Springs, FL, by Amy Kyryliw. Taken a few minutes after finishing.
“Lotus Flower” Quartz Point Tea Light Candle Holder | Robyn Nola Positive Affirmation Gifts on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/23705062
There is regret. Always, there is regret.
But it is better that our lives unloose,
As two tall ships, wind-mastered, wet with light,
Break from an estuary with their courses set,
And waving part, and waving drop from sight.
Can you believe we got to be here? We were able to see this, to feel the warmth of the sun, smell the salty air, walk on the Earth, and choose to love. Be thankful. Be here now.
Work No 755 ‘Small Things’ by Martin Creed.
A light says why. From all the poor prying. Again we attain a more regal posture—small bird accompanying slips between our whim. Where will we flicker, loose as two feathers from a wren’s back? Gone, do not brood for all the hands that miss you. They hardly hold. Don’t wait, one who thought a dark eye could save you, like night with its black paws curled and gone to sleep. There are only two names to remember, Loss and Pleasure, crossed in this field like no man’s borrowed light. Call the far-sighted foxes to the launching. Call the small deer scattered in the back brush, swift as flit. Contingency has arms and hands and wasted faces. And a body, shrunk and scurvy, built to burn.
Brooklyn Bridge Walkway, New York CIty by andrew c mace
Like spider webs galore. It’s mind-melting. Smelting. I’m a blacksmith.