GRADJ! Obsessed with our alma mater with@samuel_d_santos @angelablake. Congrats to all you robe & capped wonders. ❤ (Taken with Instagram at Nostalgia Land)
They always know where I am. Cats, 5. Me, 2. (Taken with Instagram at NE Portland)
(Source: puttingmannersonafeminist, via fuckyeahbookarts)
Books. Blankets. Blazing hot sun. Breathtakingly content. (Taken with instagram)
mommaz day.
“Her children will rise up and call her blessed; many woman have done excellently but you have surpassed them all.” prov 31:28-29
response to the soul shaking words i’ve been reading lately
Portland is best viewed through sunroofs. #ptlforsun (Taken with instagram)
Devouring, in general. (Taken with instagram)
But there is another kind of seeing that involves a letting go. When I see this way I sway transfixed and emptied. The difference between the two ways of seeing is the difference between walking with and without a camera. When I walk with a camera I walk from shot to shot, reading the light on a calibrated meter. When I walk without a camera, my own shutter opens, and the moment’s light prints on my own silver gut. When I see this second way I am above all an unscrupulous observer.
—Annie Dillard - Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Photojournalist William Miller + old/practically broken Polaroid SX-70 instant camera = heaven.
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
Missing two of my fave humans today…
This is one of those times where I feel horribly inadequate… in the best way possible.
New series of ads created for Harbour City Chocolate Trail, a charity project for the Hong Kong Cancer Foundation. Crafted by NAM an art/design collective, who are badass on a daily basis.
Amazing.
So… cats.
So, I know people don’t ever actually ever saaay a whole lot on Tumblr, but this is too important.
The story goes like this…the homegirl I’m renting a room from (super nice gal, super cute house) has two cats.
Which I mean, it’s fine, they’re cats, they can’t help it.
But our only interactions involve me walking through the door, and them sprinting under the bed. The only socialize when homegirl house owner is around, and even then they practically shun me. It’s like my existence offends them, like they’re Amish grandmother’s and my use of electricity is only to piss them off or something.
Sometimes I just stomp a lot in their direction, mock them to their faces, have stare downs which I always win, and whenever I move they scatter. I use these tools to my advantage. They have tools as well, don’t let the fur and meowing fool you, its more than just hairballs up there…they’re scheming like gangbusters.
I’ve been keeping a tally. So far the felines are in the lead.
First, I walked in on them partaking in a little… (ahem) afternoon delight. During which I walked into the room, we all locked eyes, I gagged, and slowly backed out of the room apologizing for interrupting. Cats 1, Me, 0.
Next, Cat #1 puked on my FAVORITE spot on the couch, that spot that is broken in just right. He KNEW, so of course he had to permanently soil it. Cats, 2. Me, 0.
Just now, Cat #2 somehow sneaked its way into my room, where she KNOWS she’s not allowed because my door is always closed for this very reason. When I walked in she leaped from my bed where she was LOUNGING on my bed under my COAT. Leaving hair evvverywhere and creeping me out in general. We’ve got a boundary pusher on our hands. Cats, 3. Me, 0.
This is one of those times when I wish cats could drive, because you know I’d be out there keying both of their cars riiiight now.
For all of you who like cats, I’m sure you can in no way empathize with this, and I understand, but I will never agree with your affections for these sneaky creatures.
Stay tuned for further updates on the feline fiasco, known as my life.
The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.
—
Annie Dillard, The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Eatttting this book up. Whatta champ, that Annie.
learning to watercolor.
learning to be still.
