6 a.m. jog, a pause by the pond, and back home.
Inspired (constantly) by Texturism.
Roughly two million years ago, a small body of water containing an ancient community of microbes was sealed beneath the surface of the Taylor Glacier. Trapped below a thick layer of ice, the microbes have remained isolated inside a natural time capsule, in a place with no light, oxygen, or heat. The trapped lake has very high salinity and is rich in iron, which gives the seepage its red color. A fissure in the glacier allows the microbial subglacial lake to flow out, forming the falls without contaminating the ecosystem within. (via Blood Falls, a “bleeding” glacier, is a natural time capsule containing a unique ecosystem)
Vertigo, Leon Spilliaert
Seeing the Light
James Turrell’s skyspaces for private homes capture sunlight to its full, revelatory effect. Take a tour in NYT’s most recent article Seeing the Light.
(via lacma)
Francis Alÿs’s “Fabiola” collection is an overwhelming and amazing project. I saw it in NYC at the Hispanic Society of America (155th & Broadway).
Francis Alys - Fabiola (2008)
“The story of St. Fabiola, a 4th-century Roman aristocrat from the Fabia family who is supposed to have been an early Mother Teresa, became popular in the late 19th century, and an 1885 portrait of her by a French academician (which is now lost) has since been endlessly copied around the world.
Appearing on postcards, posters and religious trinkets, Fabiola has been a beloved subject for countless painters, most of them amateurs. The portrait’s format is almost always the same: Fabiola is seen in profile facing left, her head covered by a rich red veil.
Mr. Alys, who was born in Belgium in 1959 and moved to Mexico City in 1990, began collecting Fabiola paintings—as the genre is called—about 15 years ago, buying them at thrift shops, flea markets and antiques stores primarily in Mexico and Europe. He has previously shown his collection three times, when it was much smaller; the current presentation includes more than 300 works.”
Would’ve liked to see this collection.
The Milky Way rises over Long’s Peak (14,259 feet) as seen from 9,600 feet up Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park.
Photo: Pat Gaines
Marion Cotillard and Guillaume Canet attend the photocall for ‘Blood Ties’ at The 66th Annual Cannes Film Festival on May 20, 2013
Unabashed love for Marion and Guillaume in Jeux d’enfants.
(via frenchcinema)
Previously on Arrested Development | NPR’s guide to the running gags from the show
This is dedication.
One week, guys. I am ready.
‘88 or ‘89. Somewhere on the west coast, I imagine. We went on a lot of camping trips when I was younger. My memories are fragments: watching my cousins scale and gut fish by the river, brushing my teeth with bare feet on wet rocks, having never-ending worship services in hot vans, mom’s huge Ray-Bans, my hair a permed tangle.
BELCIMER: Through the narrows the tide floods its banks. A square, uneven...
Through the narrows the tide floods its banks. A square, uneven landing, anchored to posts in the marsh, leads two hundred yards uproad to a hillside of tall grasses where, on the northern end, a dark house sits looking out at the ships anchored in the moonlit bay. When at dusk the guests arrive…
This is fast becoming one of my favorite blogs. Reeeeeeeeeeeeead. It’s full of beauty.
With Mahler everything walks; a lot of it rages, the rest trails back.
This song belongs to the sea.
Currently Reading
The vanishing groves: A chronicle of climates past and a portent of climates to come – the telling rings of the bristlecone pine by Ross Andersen
The burning of books and libraries has perhaps fallen out of fashion, but if you look closely, you will find its spirit survives in another distinctly human activity, one as old as civilisation itself: the destruction of forests. Trees and forests are repositories of time; to destroy them is to destroy an irreplaceable record of the Earth’s past. Over this past century of unprecendented deforestation, a tiny cadre of scientists has roamed the world’s remaining woodlands, searching for trees with long memories, trees that promise science a new window into antiquity. To find a tree’s memories, you have to look past its leaves and even its bark; you have to go deep into its trunk, where the chronicles of its long life lie, secreted away like a library’s lost scrolls. This
