Photographer, Nerdfighter, avid reader, musician, runner, and Rocky Horror enthusiast. If you're interested in time travel, meet me last Thursday.
  • same, adam

    (Source: himetimes, via elmakias)

  • Emperor’s New College



    English Majors:


    Architecture Majors:


    Music Majors:


    Engineering Majors:


    Mathematics Majors:


    Theater Majors:


    Latin American Studies Majors:


    Linguistics Majors:


    History Majors:


    Religious Studies Majors:


    Law Students:


    Chemistry Majors:


    Women & Gender Studies Majors:


    Anthropology Majors:


    Sociology Majors:


    Philosophy Majors:


    Geology Majors:


    Economics Majors:


    Classics Majors:


    Government Majors:


    I fell apart at Government Majors

    (via imapizzashiit)

  • genjigirl:

    Best scene ever

    (Source: redformans, via imapizzashiit)

  • arpeggia:

    Hiroshi Sugimoto - Seascapes, 1980-

    Click on each image for location details.

    Artist’s statement:

    "Mystery of mysteries, water and air are right there before us in the sea. Every time I view the sea, I feel a calming sense of security, as if visiting my ancestral home; I embark on a voyage of seeing."

    (via fishingboatproceeds)

  • neil-gaiman:


    The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman 

    I saw Neil Gaiman a couple months ago at Carnegie Hall. We weren’t hanging out or anything.  He was reading his new book in front of a scrolling powerpoint of macabre sketches, accompanied by a four-piece string quartet.
    From Australia.
    That’s where I got my autographed copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, which I promptly added to an already-teetering pile next to my bookshelf.
    I’ve held off on including a Gaiman book here. I’m not sure why because I love Neverwhere and The Graveyard Book, and they equally deserve to be included, but until now I’m not sure I could justly describe the dark humanity that is endemic of Gaiman’s books.
    Gaiman writes the stuff of nightmares, and I don’t mean the gruesome horror prevalent in every movie theatre within a five-mile radius. I mean, the real nightmares, the ones that are too sad, too frightening, and too harrowing to admit that we ourselves have -  because to do so would be to admit that we all only had one childhood, we all only have one life, and we are all going to die. The kind of nightmare that makes B movies look like distractions. 
    “Harrowing” is a great term to start describing The Ocean at the End of the Lane. A man returns to his childhood home for a funeral, and finds himself reflecting on events of his youth as he sits by a pond behind the farm of his childhood friend. When my friend told me this synopsis, I quickly threw the book in a pile of those-yet-to-be-read and forgot about it. Because reading about a guy going to a funeral isn’t high on my list of interesting plotlines. Is the book about that? No, not at all. And in a way, it’s completely about that.
    The book is scary, sure. But what makes it scary is not the dark. What makes it scary is the light. Gaiman, as an adult, writes with the preserved-innocence of a child. If we have forgotten the wonder, the imagination, and the helplessness of our youth, Gaiman has been remembering it for all of us. And it is this that he includes in his books. The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the story between childhood and adulthood. It’s a story that is too scary to remember but too important to forget.
    It includes countless gems of childhood wisdom, of worry, of wonder like, “Adults take paths. Children explore.”
    And at the end of the book, I’m not sure what just happened. Was it all true? Was it just the fantastical interpretation of a child? But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because Gaiman is still speaking to my very core when he writes: “You don’t pass or fail at being a person, dear.”
    And that, my friend, is my biggest nightmare of all.

    The kind of reviews that make it worth writing.

  • fluffmugger:


    Yawns are catching. Even when you’re kittens in a bucket.


    (Source: catleecious, via subliminalsilence13)

  • ryanpanos:

    Theater Series | Hiroshi Sugimoto | Socks Studio

    Starting in the late 1970s, Hiroshi Sugimoto took pictures of cinemas interiors and drive-ins with the aim of encapsulate the whole lenght of a movie in a single shot. He left the camera shutters open throughout the running of a movie and the glowing screen of the cinemas was left as a trace on each take. A somehow uncanny light resonates in the dark cinema halls. At a further glance, this central light ethereally underlines the rich architectural details of the theater interiors. You might want to confront Sugimoto’s work with Michael Wesely’s, a photographer that uses to take photographs featuringi  3 years long exposures: read “The passing of time“, (on Socks).

    (via fishingboatproceeds)