Link
May 19, 2012
Alain Badiou: a life in writing
Photo
May 17, 2012
618 notes
this isn’t happiness: Editions of you

this isn’t happiness:

Editions of you

(via beccari)

Photoset
May 16, 2012
42,110 notes

(Source: puttingmannersonafeminist, via luchalibro)

Photo
April 26, 2012
6,557 notes
crashinglybeautiful: Definition pronunciation | “kO-mO-‘re-bE\  (Thank you, theantidote & other-wordly)

crashinglybeautiful:

Definition

pronunciation | “kO-mO-‘re-bE\ 

(Thank you, theantidote & other-wordly)

Text
April 26, 2012

obsequio

Cambiaría un tapiz antiguo
que trae

una cesta de sonrisas
con rosas despreocupadas

y paisajes suspendidos del dedo meñique

con ríos bondadosos y cielos palpables

de tus cabellos saldrá agua dulce

y habrá voces de color en la luna

Por sembrar un beso
bajo la alta palmera de una frase tuya

bella

jardinerademibeso

                   Carlos Oquendo de Amat -  Cinco metros de poemas

                          

Video
April 21, 2012

aviarium: this is a surreal, dreamlike journey through apocalyptical landscapes

Photo
April 19, 2012
1,829 notes
beccari: this isn’t happiness: Paths to Success

beccari:

this isn’t happiness:

Paths to Success

Video
April 05, 2012
5 notes

mhsteger:

The Partita No. 2 in d minor (BWV 1004) composed between 1717 and 1723 by Johann Sebastian Bach (born 31 March, 1685; died 28 July, 1750); performed here in 2004 by Gidon Kremer, in the St. Nikolaus Church in Vienna, for a 2006 film by Alexander Lück and Daniel Finkernagel for medici.tv


It has been proposed that this partita was composed by Bach in memory of his first wife, Maria Barbara Bach (1684-1720)



Video
March 28, 2012
300 notes

explore-blog:

How a book is made today, using traditional printing methods – lovely short vignette from The Daily Telegraph. Also see how books were made over the ages, from the middle ages to today, and the fascinating Books: A Living History.

(↬Coudal)

Quote
March 01, 2012
421 notes
"Each time he took a walk, he felt as though he were leaving himself behind, and by giving himself up to the movement of the streets, by reducing himself to a seeing eye, he was able to escape the obligation to think, and this, more than anything else, brought him a measure of peace, a salutary emptiness within. The world was outside of him, around him, before him, and the speed with which it kept changing made it impossible for him to dwell on any one thing for very long. Motion was of the essence, the act of putting one foot in front of the other and allowing himself to follow the drift of his own body. By wandering aimlessly, all places became equal, and it no longer mattered where he was. On his best walks, he was able to feel that he was nowhere. And this, finally, was all he ever asked of things: to be nowhere."

— Paul Auster, City of Glass (Thank you, liquidnight)

(via crashinglybeautiful)