Towering thirty feet high in the Nevada desert, Ugo Rondinone’s massive land art installation, Seven Magic Mountains, is a stunning, fluorescent meditation on the relationship between humans and their environment. More than two hundred backers rallied behind this monumental work — one of the largest land art installations of the past forty years.

Want to be the first to know about projects like this? Sign up for the forthcoming Arts & Culture News digest to see the future of culture coming to life on Kickstarter.

Ugo Rondinone: Seven Magic Mountains, Las Vegas, Nevada, 2016. 

Photo by Gianfranco Gorgoni. Courtesy of Art Production Fund and Nevada Museum of Art.


Happy Birthday to one of my best friends in the entire world. To have known you seven years has been a joy and pleasure. You have seen me at my lowest and I know you’ll still be there at my highest. You have taught me so many things and I am so happy to have shared so many adventures with you. I am excited to see you grow even more and become even more beautiful in this world, I love you Snail. You are the Haruka to my Usagi <3 

Essere donne vuol dire di più di indossare un rossetto rosso,  una minigonna, una scollatura vertiginosa. Vuol dire di più del fare la risata ubriaca e spensierata che fa perdere la testa agli uomini, vuol dire di più del comportarsi come se del mondo non ce ne fregasse un cazzo, più del mettere i tacchi alti, del mascara. Essere donne vuol dire uscire ogni giorno con la consapevolezza di essere più forti di come ci dipingono, vuol dire dover affrontare battaglie diverse in ogni situazione, vuol dire avere la certezza di poter fare grandi cose, di poter essere qualcuno nel mondo. Essere donne vuol dire essere forti come un uragano, aggressive come un animale e con più palle di un uomo.
—  Daniela, uraganichehodentro (via @uraganichehodentro)

My professor was saying today that once we graduate in order to be successful you need to be working the equivalent of 3 or 4 FULL TIME jobs.

Now a full time job is forty hours a week, and four adds up to 160 hours working a week.

There are 168 hours in seven days. Which leaves 8 hours for sleep, relaxation, hygiene, food, and exercise in the week.

No offense but FUCK THAT.

I’d much rather be a failure with free time than the robot they want.


Medical Hints, Designed for the Use of Clergymen, and Others, in Places Where Professional Advice Cannot Be Immediately Procured, 1820

This disease is almost confined to females of an irritable nervous system, the single more than the married, from the age of fifteen, to thirty-five or forty.

They are readily excited in those who are subject to the, by passions of the mind, and sometimes they come on from imitation and sympathy.


It’s the final week to check out “Yasuhiro Ishimoto: Bilingual Photography and the Architecture of Greene & Greene.” The exhibition features forty-six stunning black-and-white photographs printed by the artist and on loan from The Museum of Art, Kochi in Japan. Final day is Monday, Oct. 3—a week from today!

Previous posts featuring a selection of Ishimoto’s photographs here and here.

anxiety is the worst its like 

‘okay this lecture starts at three pm and it takes me about forty minutes to get there so let’s leave at two to give me some time in case something happens but i also need to shower and get dressed do let’s give me another hour there so that’s one o’clock i need to start getting ready and it’s eleven am now so i should just start bc i dont wanna be late’ 

anonymous asked:

Absolutely agree with you posture on every single thing re: Coliver's break up!!! I am glad there's people that saw in that scene and in those action all that I perceived! Would it be too much if I ask for a little post- break up scene fic? Just something that reflect were you think (or want) both characters are going to be mentally and how they are gonna deal with each other's presence for now! Thank you! I love you ( "I love you so much" :( ) Sorry, can't get that scene out of my head ;)

Hope this is okay!! Idk if this is what you wanted and I’m not too pleased with it but what can ya do right?

In which Connor is in denial and Oliver is conflicted…

Keep reading


follow you moodboard part 1 of ?

“What if I told you I could get you one-on-one with James Buchanan Barnes?” He asked simply, once again stopping her right where she was. Her expression was no longer sarcastic, no longer annoyed, and as much as she hated to admit it- Tony Stark had just gotten her exactly where he wanted her. “I know you’ve been studying him. I read your little articles on your little blog, it’s cute.”

“James Barnes doesn’t talk to anyone,” she told him; already knowing that every psychologist who had tried to get him to open up about his past had failed. “What makes you think he’ll talk to me?”

Tony dropped his head to the left. “Because you’re a beautiful girl.” His tone insinuated that she should have already known his answer. “I’d put my money on Bucky Barnes being a real womanizer in the forties, and you know, old habits die hard.”

She scoffed at his tactics. “You’re delusional, you know that?”

anonymous asked:

#58 Chris Jericho

Prompt List

A/N: Thank you so much! I got about half way through this and then my computer shut down and I lost it all…but round two! This one is a little short but I wanted to leave some of the stuff up to your guys’ imagination!

58: “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.”

Originally posted by hiitsmekevin

In kindergarten, Chris Jericho yanked on one of your pig tails. Growing up with brothers you first reaction came without you even thinking about it. Your tiny six year old fist connected with his jaw. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t tell. He just looked at you, rubbing his jaw, and said, “I like you, can we be friends?” Almost forty years later, you two are still best friends. You have been through a lot of ups and a lot of downs. Breakups, divorces, injuries, and reinventions. When you retired at thirty-eight from active in ring competition, it was hard on you. It was a severe back injury that forced you to back down, much to your anger. Chris was there for you though. He brought you flowers and stayed in the hospital with you for almost a week, but then was forced to come back because he needed to be there and not with his injured friend. After that, you took up the position of creative writer. It was not uncommon for wrestlers to come to you to talk about their characters and their progression in the company. 

 “I’m sorry Cesaro…I can’t do anything about it. I know it sucks to be stuck in matches that are repetitive but Stephanie and Mick have the last word…I can’t do anything.” Cesaro nodded, his face cress fallen. Slowly he gets up and walks away with a walk your all too familiar with, the walk of a wrestler questioning his ever smaller place in a company. There was a few minutes for you to clear your desk and restart, then Chris came in. If you were being honest, you rarely looked at your schedule. You were well up to date with everyone and didn’t often need much prep time. “Oh hey Chris,” you say, smiling up at him. He smiles back, but his face looks strained. “You okay?”

“Yeah, feels good to see you for once.” You looked up at him, blinking, trying to figure out what the hell he meant by that. 


“You heard me. You always held up here for days, I never see you.”

“You see me plenty in meet-”

“That’s not what I mean. I miss seeing you as my best friend.” He sits down across from you, leaning over your desk. You lean back in your chair, crossing your legs and staring back at him. “Don’t look at me like that, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Oh well Chris,’” his voice raises an octave to sound feminine, “‘friendship is a two way street. Don’t come complaining to me about the problems if you’ve done nothing to change them.’” There was silence. 

“Do I really sound like that?” A smile breaks across his face and you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“No, not really. Your voice is a lot softer…sweeter.” Like a little boy, his face gets pink. There’s more silence, but this time there’s tension. There’s something that has been there forever. That something has always lingered in too long hugs, cheek kisses that were just too close to the lips, back rubs that lead to soft moans. That something was the flips your stomach did when he would say that he loved you, that something was also in the plummeting in your soul when he would introduce you to a new woman.

“Do you remember when I pulled on your pigtail?” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Y-yeah, then I punched you and you said ‘let’s be friends’.” He nodded his head slowly, not looking you directly in the eyes. “Why?” There was another long pause. 

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Since the day I met you.”