Thursday, April 17, 2014

(Source: wigglemore)

‘You don’t actually get over things… you incorporate them. They become part of everything you are. I don’t mean that you walk about crying all the time. But you change.’ When You’re Falling, Dive: Lessons in the Art of Living, by Mark Matousek (via maryhuynh)

(Source: kissesandcollisions)

(Source: ffoart)

(Source: eatsleepdraw)

futurejournalismproject:

The Guardian: The shot that nearly killed me: War photographers – a special report

"No pictures," someone yelled. I told them I’d stop shooting if they stopped killing him. They didn’t. As the man was set on fire, he began to run. I was framing my next shot when a bare-chested man came into view and swung a machete into his blazing skull. I tried not to smell the burning flesh and shot a few more pictures, but I was losing it and aware that the crowd could turn on me at any time. The victim was moaning in a low, dreadful voice as I left. I got in my car and, once I turned the corner, began to scream. You’re not just a journalist or a human being, you’re a mixture of both, and to try to separate the two is complicated. I’ve often felt guilty about my pictures. I worked in South Africa for years and was shot three times. The fourth and final injury, in Afghanistan in 1999, wasn’t the worst, but I decided enough was enough. I was looking to settle. Nineteen months later, I met my wife.

Photo: Greg Marinovich, Soweto, 1990.

futurejournalismproject:

The Guardian: The shot that nearly killed me: War photographers – a special report

"No pictures," someone yelled. I told them I’d stop shooting if they stopped killing him. They didn’t. As the man was set on fire, he began to run. I was framing my next shot when a bare-chested man came into view and swung a machete into his blazing skull. I tried not to smell the burning flesh and shot a few more pictures, but I was losing it and aware that the crowd could turn on me at any time. The victim was moaning in a low, dreadful voice as I left. I got in my car and, once I turned the corner, began to scream. You’re not just a journalist or a human being, you’re a mixture of both, and to try to separate the two is complicated. I’ve often felt guilty about my pictures. I worked in South Africa for years and was shot three times. The fourth and final injury, in Afghanistan in 1999, wasn’t the worst, but I decided enough was enough. I was looking to settle. Nineteen months later, I met my wife.

Photo: Greg Marinovich, Soweto, 1990.

musikoula:

Pagan Poetry - Björk

(Source: sixpenceee)

Wednesday, April 16, 2014
artmagnifique:

FREDERIC CHURCH. To the Memory of Cole, 1848.

artmagnifique:

FREDERIC CHURCH. To the Memory of Cole, 1848.

(Source: ayodreamcat)

trialanderrorrs:

//canyon 1, erin morrison

trialanderrorrs:

//canyon 1, erin morrison

(Source: kenaim)

adreamersart:

Title - Moon Sprite
Artist - Jonti Baylis
Website - http://jontibaylis-art.tumblr.com/

adreamersart:

Title - Moon Sprite

Artist - Jonti Baylis

Website - http://jontibaylis-art.tumblr.com/

lacarpa:

“Metamorphosis” by Stephanie Inagaki