flypaper
when I came across this article, i immediately envisioned the voices of michael jackson and farrah fawcett reverberating through the cosmos. haunting small, outermostly planets.
then i thought, wait a minute: those stars aren’t really long-dead.
then i thought, wait a minute: that’s not what this article is about at all.
i will not disclose how long it took me to realize this (i had basically read the whole thing) or how i felt afterward (irrational and mild disappointment).
this image makes me think of the journeys we take in our own minds. spectacular journeys. how we build. how we pretend, and through pretending, experience something distinctly un-pretend. would your posture shift slightly, strange man, if you sat upon a beast with bones and beating heart? would your legs hang heavier, open wider? i’ve tried tricking my body into believing far, further and foolisher things.
it’s also possible you simply stumbled upon a pile of whatnots and decided to take five.
in either case, carry on.
3D image of a developing mouse head at an early embryonic stage, created using high-resolution episcopic microscopy.
little jewels. glorious beady-eyed jewels. they would be quite stunning arranged on a gold ring band, looking at each other like the opening sequence of “The Brady Bunch.” you could put a sapphire on there too. or your birthstone, if your birthstone is a sapphire.
(via baubauhaus)
reblogged for flypaper, because i thought this said heather. close enough.
i go by heater when i bring the heat and leave my other “H” at home. i usually leave my “H” with some alphabet soup (to keep it sustained, happy), and chain it to the kitchen table by it’s linear mid-section (to prevent it from escaping). i don’t want to run the risk of being “heater” forever. always bringing the heat gets warm.
black and white: finch head pattern
dear niner,
i miss you.
love,
flypaper
Frida Kahlo
Julien Levy, New York, 1938
Vicente Wolf Photography Collection
© 2001 Philadelphia Museum of Art
