A composition of three fetal skeletons”

Three fetal skeletons, between 6 and 8 months development, stand arranged on a display of renal, bladder, and gall stones, and vascular trees.

The topmost skeleton is that of a female at 6 months gestation, and holds a string of pearls. The left skeleton is a male at 7 months gestation, and holds a miniature scythe. The right one is a female at 8 months gestation, and is wiping its eyes with a sheet of mesentery - the connective tissue found between body cavities.

Thesaurus Anatomicus (Primus). Frederik Ruysch, 1721.

anonymous asked:

Hey do you think... That pearl... Might be gay for rose? I watched the new episode and I'm starting to wonder

*connects another colored string between “pearl” and “gay”* i think i’m starting to crack the code

My Mom was a World Famous Jewelry Designer. When I became a pearl stringer she would send me pieces to make for her with extensive diagrams telling me where each pearl was to go.

One day she sent me this clasp with no instructions. I asked what she wanted me to do and she said “Have fun with it”. So I did this, and for the rest of her life the sign on her booth wall at the big Jewelry Shows said “Carrie Adell and Jo Adell” and my badge said “Exhibitor” instead of “The Daughter”.

“Red Kansas” 14K, 18K, 22K, Palladium, Whte Gold, Shakudo, Garnet strung with Fresh-Water Pearls, Hessonite garnet and Labradorite beads, 1998 or ‘99.

Me at family reunions, chatting up older relatives: haha well you know how kids are. [sips wine and pulls at the string of pearls draped around my neck] they’re a handful, but at the end of the day you remember how precious they are [takes out my wallet and fondly looks at a picture of Renji Abarai]

Fashionably Friday


Last week was our Hebrew anniversary and next week it’s our English, WE MADE IT ONE YEAR! To celebrate, my husband and I went out for dinner and drinks last night. I wore the same skirt I wore all day yesterday and paired it with a simple black top, a short string of pearls and boring flats because we walked and me, heels and walking aren’t a good combination for shalom bayis. I usually don’t wear this much black, but I finished the look with my awesome long sheitel and wanted a classic look to let it shine. For a pop of color, because I need a pop of color, I brought along this pretty pink clutch, perfect for carrying the ID that the bartender didn’t even ask for to see!
Top: Nordstrom
Skirt: Loft
Clutch: Ted Baker
Shoes: Banana Republic


Love and shomer kisses,

Fashionably Frum

the jokes about pearl being salty and thirsty are great
but remember that it’s implied that rose has been stringing humans along for generations while pearl has always been there

i’d add that rose is essentially stringing pearl along as well, but the “string of pearls” pun is too strong

carminecranes asked:

hi hello clan aletheia is a walled town that's an unholy architectural mashup of greco-roman and ancient chinese buildings. they have a strong alliance with a local maren clan and trade with local longneck clans. it's mostly a university with dragons that have their specialties, but there's a floating library/airship for trade/combat and everyone is encouraged to be anti-shade, or at least keep shade-related experiments contained/behind barriers and easily destroyable. :>

- cool clear ponds and streams, beautiful calm gardens in the style of suzhou
- reclining couches in rich velvets and silks, gold and ivory and white, strewn with papers and scrolls and precariously balanced inkwells
- bright lanterns of white-gold crystal that throw out constant, brilliant light that cuts through shadows like a knife
- off-whites and rich jewel tones and heavy gold embroidery, heavy, draping cloth, bared shoulders and collarbones
- elaborate updos interwoven with strings of pearls and semiprecious stones, delicate white gauze pinned into place with gleaming golden ornaments
- delicate wrists and ankles beneath wide, heavy bracelets and anklets of gold, pulled off to act as paperweights and impromptu bookmarks
- fingers stained with ink and the smell of parchment, calluses forming on the sides of fingers that brace brushes and pens
- multicolored rugs, tapestries, wall hangings woven with scenes from myths and legends and history
- also probably an explosion in the distance

book title meme

Tagged by misswinterseat :)

I’m glad that my name is short because I’m not much into books. xD

S - Sweeney Todd: The String of Pearls  probably by James Malcolm Rymer and Thomas Peckett Prest

A - All the Assholes in the World and Mine  by Charles Bukowski

R - (The) Raven  by Edgar Allan Poe

A - Assassination of Reinhard Heydrich  by Miroslav Ivanov

H - Hitler  by Francois Kersaudy

I tag alexthehellartist ; randomthunk ; janescoot59 ; malcolmtuckers-sexysmirk ; roteach ; colepaldi-in-the-tardis; sexysylvesteroystonmccoy

You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. :) Also everyone else who sees this and was not tagged can participate :)

anonymous asked:

My name is Stephanie :)

Stephanie is a friend. Someone who watches from the world from afar, but wishes to discover all the beauty it has to offer. I see a bountiful feast, family and good friends laughing and sharing stories late into the night. A secret that wishes to escape from behind closed lips… A quiet longing for something new and exciting. A rose quartz. A string of pearls. *hug*
(Send me your name my love, and I will tell you what it reminds me of) :3 :3

facethepast asked:


          There’s the pungent smell of spilling fuel, the spray of fractured glass causing for red petals to seep from the man’s visage as a dull ache thrums at the base of his skull. All the while trying to make sense of his world which is confusingly flipped upside down, the seatbelt of the driver’s seat keeping him locked in place like a caged animal that didn’t deserve its freedom. But despite the building panic which burgeons in his chest, widening eyes cast upon the rear view mirror. Lips parting as he witnesses a pair of familiar faces returning his shocked gaze - facial hair which frames lips that hiss from behind a half-smoked cigar that’s seamlessly poised; a string of pearls which dance within the dwindling light, perfume reminiscent of his childhood engulfing his senses in an oddly comforting manner.

          A sense of strength is feigned as he asks the ghostly figures if they’re alright, noting the clothing which looks like they’ve been plucked right out of a black and white photograph. Skin devoid of natural colour, cheeks instead filled with a monochrome hue that threatens to be so easily burnt with a mere trickle of warm sunlight. His priority shifting to get them out of the absolute wreck of a car, no longer questioning how or why they’ve even had the accident - the stench of soured alcohol on his breath seemingly answering his own question…

          And yet things rapidly cascade downhill, the heavy creak sparking alarm as the door besides him is utterly ripped from its hinges. A strong hand appearing out of nowhere to grab the man by the throat, tanned sinews crunching and groaning beneath the commanding grasp. He can’t breathe… He can’t fucking breathing amidst the arising background of helpless screams and shouts. A breathless gasp struggling to emerge as absolute fear sets into motion, but that doesn’t stop the “stranger” from pulling Tony out of the vehicle. The grip shifting to clutch into his short hair, dragging him across the road which is littered in screeched tire markings. Feet awkwardly scraping as perfectly polished shoes grow increasingly scuffed. A hand reaching back as a growl of pain passes through a clenched jaw. Expletives are on the verge of being spat out but the shell of a man grows silent as he notices that the arm is one of metal.

          No… The infamous star nearing the shoulder glistening with a taunting combination of red and gold. No no no… A heavy boot stomps onto Tony’s chest, keeping him in place as Barnes the Winter Soldier lowers himself down with a curious leer, as if peering at an unfortunate animal at the zoo. The mask covering his eyes withdrawn to reveal a dull set of eyes which are entirely dead inside…and yet there’s the perturbing upward lift at the corners as his muffled voice comes across in a whisper.

                    “I heard you like to watch.”

          The words are met with an expression of confusion, but a match being turned over within the other’s hand grabs Tony’s attention. That and the long and winding trail of fuel which leads up to the car. The debilitating shock and knowledge of what’s about to happen causing for him to close his eyes like the coward that he is, unable to face the anguished cries for help as his parents cook inside the confined tin can of a vehicle.