maylander

The lineup for #noisedaze2015 is killer! Check it out!!! 

Noise Daze 2015 tickets are on sale at Ticketfly, Sloth records,
Heritage posters and music and Luke’s drug mart!!

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Mothers Day at LFB style ❤️ … #fashion #jewellery #accessories #hats #pearls #vani_t #makeup #love #flipagram #video #shopping #shoplocal #perth #maylands #iphone #ootd #mothersdayLFBstyle

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Monday thru Friday 8a - 8p |
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email: iddesignusa@gmail.com
innovativedesignusa.com

Call or Text us Today !!!!!
410-961-1225 / 443-803-7346
443-803-8357 | 420.276.4206
Printworks MD
2125 Boston St.
Canton Baltimore | Maryland
#Weprintbmore

3

This year the Amsterdam Denim Days were organized for the second time and were once again a great success!
Denim lovers from all around the world came together at the Westergasfabriekterrein to share, show and talk about their passion for the famous blue garment.  

Kings of Indigo was present at ADD, and this time we took Triple-R (Recycle, Repare, Re-use) to the next level with Red Light Denim (you can read all about it in our previous blog post) and our royal 3D printing machine! Visitors were able to pick up one of our 3D printed true American K.O.I mascottes or special Japanese inspired buttons to revive your garments. This is a one of a kind collab with master of 3D Muezli (Ron Mayland) http://www.muezli.com, and the first of many!

Of course our 3D beast is still hungry to produce more! It is going to be an innovative experimenting trip from Triple-R items, along point of sale material, up to gifts and exclusive products that we want to offer on our webshop. We are prepared for trial and error but we Kings are certain that we will tame the beast! So keep checking our social media for the next juicy bites.

tears dry on their own. @mayland

Secretamente, Landon, assim como todo pai, tem um filho favorito. A mesma coisa acontece com seus alunos. Mayumi é sua predileta: talvez por ser um desafio, tanto por seu gênio complicado, tanto por sua deficiência visual, Landon sente a necessidade de proteger e cuidar de Umi como se fosse uma filha. O treinamento especial que ela recebe usualmente é na arena de terra que a Gênesis concede apenas uma vez na semana. Mas como Mayumi gosta de aprender, e Landon adora ensinar, qualquer tempo disponível que os dois têm, vão para o campo aberto localizado em cima da Montanha de Cristal, à duas milhas de distância da base secreta. A responsabilidade exarcebada de sempre obriga Landon a chegar adiantado – seria uma desonra para com Mayumi faze-la esperar. A estrada de terra até à montanha machuca os pneus do carro do homem, mas ele não se importa. Sua mente fica ocupada em pensar maneiras de desviar o treinamento para a dobra tradicional de pedras ou algo avançado como lava, e não o que Mayumi havia requisitado: dobra de metal.

Landon havia ensinado várias turmas tudo o que sabe sobre dobra, especialmente minerais, sua parte favorita de manipular terra. Mas sempre que suas turmas chegavam ao nível avançado e pediam a dobra de metal, ele os encaminhava para mestres que – se fosse completamente honesto, diria que são piores e menos capacitados que Landon –, que os ensinariam. Mayumi, porém, é um caso especial, e já deixou claro que só iria aprender com ele. Não era justo ela ficar sem descobrir novos talentos por causa dos traumas de Landon. Traumas antigos, insignificantes. Traumas que ele esconde no fundo da mente todo o tempo, e que só vêm à tona quando ele está sozinho em sua casa. Chegando em seu destino dez minutos adiantado, o loiro retirou as grossas barras de ferro negro que ele trouxe no porta malas do carro, e as levitou, fincando-as no chão de grama do campo aberto.

Sentou em uma pedra que ele dobrou para se parecer com uma cadeira, e esperou. O céu estava limpo, e o sol ao longe estava forte, mas a brisa que vinha do sul quebrava o calor, deixando o clima ameno. Ao longe, a silhueta de Mayumi se forma na paisagem azul, verde e marrom. Landon acenou para a moça, e caminhou de encontro à ela. — May! Pensa rápido. — Avisou, e dobrou oito pedras, arremessando-as contra a estudante. Ela podia deter elas com uma simples técnica de defesa, então ele não se preocupou. Após as pedras não serem mais um perigo, ele se aproximou. — Bons reflexos, como sempre. Você… Tem certeza que quer aprender a dobrar metal? — Perguntou, sentindo uma pontada de culpa por tentar fazer sua aluna desistir do assunto.

We are ready to style you on this fab Friday. Grab a #coffee from @smoultsdeli then strut in to #lookfeelbe for some #fashion #fun ❤️ New #velvet just in. #perth #perthfashion #maylands #love #smile #model #womeninbusiness #iphone #westernaustralia #color #portrait (at Look Feel Be 190 Whatley Crescent Maylands WA 6051 Australia)

Bottle Bank

About ten years ago my brother bought an old farmhouse a couple of miles up the road, out towards Mayland somewhere. It’s bloody wonderful and fucking massive. It’s almost enough to make me wish at some point in my life I’d bothered to find myself a job and earned myself some money. Almost.

In the garden, if you can really call a load of old fields and yards a garden, there was (and still is) a ruined old stone barn, or shed or whatever, with just the walls left standing - no roof, no door (although he’s since put one in), no glass in the windows. The walls are about four or five feet high, although there’s a couple of bits where they’ve cracked and broken and fallen in and there’s only maybe two or three feet of wall still standing. I think maybe a tree must have fallen on it at some point. Or someone rode a tractor into it.

For some reason, instead of putting empty bottles in the recycling bin, my brother would come outside and hurl them into this old barn, steadily building up a mountain of cracked and broken and smashed up bits of glass. After a year or two of this, one time when I was round there I asked him why he did it, why he kept on doing it, and his answer was that he liked the sound of smashing glass. That he had always liked being allowed to drop bottles in the bottle bank when our dad took us over the tip when we were kids.

I’m not sure I ever remember going to the tip with our dad.

A couple of years ago I was walking the woods a few miles from where my brother lives, and from the top of the hill you could see down to where his house was, and the glass all shimmered and sparkled there in the sun like he had a barn filled with jewels. Or with water.

After that I was always a bit scared some birds would land in it thinking it was a pond and end up slicing themselves to shreds. Or I’d remember the time one of our cats almost had her paw sliced off climbing trough a broken window, and I was endlessly glad every time that I thought of it that at least my brother didn’t have any cats, and didn’t live near enough to anyone that did.

But there was always foxes I could worry about, and badgers too, although I had no idea if badgers could climb walls or would even want to if they could.

Last year he invited me over for bonfire night and I when I got there he was up a ladder, wearing some old fireman’s gear, and pouring petrol over the side of the barn and onto his big pile of glass. Ten years of glass all piled up there as if it’d had just been waiting all this time for this. He climbed down the ladder and took it back to the house, and came back with a big ball of cardboard covered in something that resembled glue, all thick and yellow and strangely horrifying looking. He lit it with his lighter and hurled it over the wall and just managed to turn away in time to shield his eyes from the whoomph of heat as the whole thing burst into flames.

It burnt for hours. I have no idea how much petrol he must have poured in there. I’m surprised the initial fireball didn’t blow the entire barn up like some sort of Hollywood explosion. I suppose it was directed upwards rather than out. Although I was stood miles back, cowering in fear on the far side of the yard, and I could still feel the heat of it for a second or two as it caught, could feel it pushing me back like a shove to the chest. 

Then it settled down and we watched it burn into the night. At some point the wooden door caught fire and burnt of its hinges, crashing down suddenly sometime towards midnight, which made my brother jump so violently he dropped his glass of beer and spilt it all in the dirt. It’s a shame the glass didn’t break really, for reasons of symbolism, and rebirth.

The next morning there was a solid river of glass that had flowed out of the barn and into the yard, the soot burnt black onto it all, and into it, maybe, too. A ridiculous mess that I have no idea how he ever cleaned up.

And everything stunk for fucking days.

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| 2125 Boston Street 21231 | 410 276 4206
email: iddesignusa@gmail.com
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Monday thru Friday 8a - 8p |
SATURDAYS 10a -6p Call us today

Call or Text us Today !!!!!
tel:410-961-1225 / tel:443-803-7346
tel:443-803-8357 | tel:420.276.4206
Printworks MD
2125 Boston St.
Canton Baltimore | Maryland
#Weprintbmore