There’s a screaming baby in my house.

There’s a young man in my house who says “I thought we were on this equality shit” every time I have an opinion he disagrees with.

There’s a man in my house who told me yesterday I didn’t have to wash his dishes. And who questions my capability in daily life regularly on things he sees as “manly activity”. And who plays sugar smooth every time he thinks I’m upset, instead of just asking me what’s wrong.

Sometimes, there’s a five year old in my house who’s father make very little effort to keep him away from activities inappropriate for children, despite having reassured us before moving in that this would be his top most priority. That it wouldn’t even be a problem.

Let me ask you, if someone has a single lane driveway, and the car in the drive way doesn’t not belong to the person you came to see, and there is room to park on the street, do you park that person in, or do you park in the street? Do you ever park that person in and then leave in another car and don’t clear it with the person you’ve parked in or even let them know you’re leaving?

pencilcat:

Are you tired of feeling like your art just isn’t improving? Do you want to do a 30-day challenge that’s actually useful? Welcome to 30 Days of Improvement Hell. >:D

I made this because I’ve been feeling super ‘blah’ about my art these days, and I needed something to kick-start…

This might be fun.

I am going to buy one of these.

I am going to buy one of these.

(Source: sincerelyybrianna, via ashappyaskings)

gamblechocolate:

applebright:

sociopathicdorito:

heytinafey:

DUJOUR MEANS FRIENDSHIP 

DUJOUR MEANS CRASH POSITIONS

DUJOUR MEANS SEATBELTS

DUJOUR MEANS HYGIENE 

arpeggia:

Sally Mann - Immediate Family, 1992

Artist’s statement:

“These are photographs of my children … many of these pictures are intimate, some are fictions and some are fantastic, but most are of ordinary things every mother has seen. I take pictures when they are bloodied or sick or naked or angry. They dress up, they pout and posture, they paint their bodies, they dive like otters in the dark river.”

Read more about Sally Mann at Gagosian Gallery.

I love this era of photography in Sally Mann’s life. Her later work, I am not as fond of, but when I watched her segment in Art 21 I thought her whole life was interesting. Her process, her kids, her philosophy, her husband. I’d like to have friends like her.

(via whatthecurtains)

deforest:

Joan Crawford in Possessed (1931)

I love this.

(via whatthecurtains)

ellenmitchellfinnigan:

Plaster Casting Workshop | Three Wax Pomegranates | Wax object from Plaster Cast Mould | Ellen Mitchell Finnigan 2013

LOL, these are so goofy.

ticket2climb:

Enjoy high end competition rock climbing at 240 frames per second!

This is cool as fuck. YOU need to watch this.

mojagear:


Campfire: On (Not) Being so Brave







Non-climbers tend to think rock climbing takes this enormous amount of courage; probably because most non-climbers seem to think that rock climbing entails “soloing like that guy on 60 minutes”. Well … I’m not that brave. I get scared. I get hyperventilating, Elvis leg-shaking, might-have-just-peed-my-pants scared. And 9 out of 10 times there is a moment where I picture myself being carried away from the crag on a stretcher. I’m not that brave. I think a lot of us are scared. I don’t think we climb because we are so courageous; I think we climb because there’s just something indescribable about topping out in spite of all the fear.
Sara Roudebush
This is a Campfire post, a short feature of 110 words or less and only one photo. Want to take on the challenge? Submit your own today ➜







Yeah, what the fuck are we doing?

mojagear:

Non-climbers tend to think rock climbing takes this enormous amount of courage; probably because most non-climbers seem to think that rock climbing entails “soloing like that guy on 60 minutes”. Well … I’m not that brave. I get scared. I get hyperventilating, Elvis leg-shaking, might-have-just-peed-my-pants scared. And 9 out of 10 times there is a moment where I picture myself being carried away from the crag on a stretcher. I’m not that brave. I think a lot of us are scared. I don’t think we climb because we are so courageous; I think we climb because there’s just something indescribable about topping out in spite of all the fear.

Sara Roudebush

This is a Campfire post, a short feature of 110 words or less and only one photo. Want to take on the challenge? Submit your own today 

Yeah, what the fuck are we doing?

danceofthewoolimasters:

chris sharma. the orange route, 5.14b. daila ojeda belaying. sender one climbing yoga and fitness gym. santa ana, california. june 2013. 

I wish I had a new gym like this, where people seem like they’d be friendlier than in my crap small town. I only feel like it’s a crap small town when I think about how much I miss the friends I used to have. 
My friends are all gone now. So I have to make new ones. Which is fine, but being there makes me miss them a lot. Especially because once in a while they show up again. It’s a meet up point for us, in that sort of inadvertent way, which sometimes isn’t that great.
But when they’re in, and I’m  not expecting it, because I kind of resent that they left me behind, it sometimes hits me hard.
And even when I plan to meet them, it hits me harder than I expect. 
I wouldn’t mind having a new gym where I had to make a new group of friends to climb with. I guess if I focus, I can probably feel that way about my gym as well. 

I think this is a beautifully painted wall. Where are all the chalk marks?

danceofthewoolimasters:

chris sharma. the orange route, 5.14b. daila ojeda belaying. sender one climbing yoga and fitness gym. santa ana, california. june 2013. 

I wish I had a new gym like this, where people seem like they’d be friendlier than in my crap small town. I only feel like it’s a crap small town when I think about how much I miss the friends I used to have.

My friends are all gone now. So I have to make new ones. Which is fine, but being there makes me miss them a lot. Especially because once in a while they show up again. It’s a meet up point for us, in that sort of inadvertent way, which sometimes isn’t that great.

But when they’re in, and I’m  not expecting it, because I kind of resent that they left me behind, it sometimes hits me hard.

And even when I plan to meet them, it hits me harder than I expect. 

I wouldn’t mind having a new gym where I had to make a new group of friends to climb with. I guess if I focus, I can probably feel that way about my gym as well. 

I think this is a beautifully painted wall. Where are all the chalk marks?