I miss how "not safe for work" this place used to be before canada became lame. Rip 12/2018
Along the winded corridors sits a small outcropping frome the cold stone wall. An edifice of the smoothest and slightly shaded rose marble, inlaid with strands of the strongest coppered metal and yet very curiously simultaneous an air of fragility. It was at this shrine in the depths of walled and ruined darkness I heard the voice of god. She spoke in soft sharp voice that sounded very deeply comforting telling me to “go back” or “not worthy” at ever corner. Be praised this unworthy scrap of man laid his face upon thee and rended his soul willing and honestly to her. Vision flooded and life fleeted. It was as if time itself strethed hapenned but didn’t as well. Late nights turned into midmorning hours and soon the mind was consumed. The story however doesn’t end and it is always being told. The prophet and a zealot both have a story to tell.
Set deep in a basin shaped from the blackest marble was an opalescent void that could be mistaken/perceived as water. From a distance and an angle shadows and light could be seen that you could never see again unless in that same spot. A mirror crept to mind but simply that was just the best word I could find to describe this artifact. Hands layed prostate along its smooth and cold surface and eyes anchored to the unfathomable depths below one could hear the slow rumble. As if a god was in slumber and steady beat of its heart was only abke to be heard. The pace quickened as if seeing me. The music heard from that moment rendered knowledge unseen before that moment. Melodies mellowed the heart but drove the mind. Music is best word only for I couldn’t find one that seemd to fit what I thought I heard. From so many ages past it comanded athurioty but not servitude. But what to make of the rest?
-sauciestcomet
I wish to see beauty again the way I used to. Now when I think about it, after saying it aloud in my head and mulling it for a few moment I realise there is no going back to the way I used to see it. Maybe it’s because I don’t appreciate it the way I used to, im too sad to look around, or maybe just scared to. Honestly that can’t be true, because it could only be a half truth you see? There are so much more subtle details that slipped by and held a place at the front of my thoughts only for a moment but nonetheless formed what I see now. A diffrent hue of the same color you see. Just because we see it a shade lighter or darker doesn’t change the fact it is or isn’t there. It just innocence lost. Forever changed and slightly lighted diffrent. I honestly dont know what im trying to say, I mean I still see beauty each and everyday I do. I just don’t see the ethereal as much anymore. Just the muted sounds and flashes that stimulate what I currently think I am and how I am perceiving this current reality. I know it males me sound like a loon but it’s as if I fell asleep one day and then woke up well rested and looked around and longer could hear or see the angels. I could just see that they must have been here for a moment and I just missed them. Is that suppose to happen? Is that part of growing up or whatever it’s called, or is it something else? Is something wrong or are there diffrent things that replace what we are for a moment so we percieve ourselves and life differently and try to evolve? - sauciestcomet
It's amazing how many English idioms are chicken-based...
- pecking order
- come home to roost
- ruffle your feathers
- take someone under your wing
- rule the roost
- henpecked
- cocky
- cooped up
- get your hackles up
- mother hen
- flew the coop
- chicken and egg situation
- brooding
- chicken (cowardly)
- chicken out
- feathers flying
- chicken scratches
- nest egg
- don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched
- don’t put all your eggs in one basket
Turbulent motions between differing air masses create undulating clouds as seen over rural Kansas in the early morning hours of April 28, 2006.( Bottom two images ) Meteorologists are proposing these clouds be designated as the first new cloud type to be named in over 50 years: Undulus Asperatus.
The ominous-looking clouds have been particularly common in the Plains states of the United States, often during the morning or midday hours following convective thunderstorm activity. These clouds are not considered a precursor to severe weather, rather appear to form following rain or thunderstorm activity.
I’m writing a book!
Some big, big professional news: I’ll be writing a coffee table book on the history of retro science fiction art! It’s planned to be out in Fall 2021 from Abrams Books. (Big thanks to my literary agent, Sarah Bolling at The Gernert Agency, for making it all happen!)
And there’s more news, too. Here’s the whole story.
Reblogging this onnnnne last time, since today’s the last day for a very great deal that I’m not planning to repeat: Sign up for my $5/month retro sci-fi art newsletter before midnight tonight, and I’ll mail you a free signed copy of my art book (as long as you’re still signed up by the time the book is out in fall 2021).
If you like hearing more about the context behind what makes this type of art great and you want a cool retro sci-fi art book, you gotta sign up today!
If you just want to jump on the free list, that’s also a great idea.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail Directors: Terry Jones & Terry Gilliam | Studio: Python Pictures | UK, 1975 Starring: Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Michael Palin, Terry Jones, Eric Idle
iraffiruse
Onward, steed!
artschoolsucks
This happened and humans still think they are the only intelligent life form on earth…
