Rising moon, ocean
A land-based pirate who, on dark nights along dangerous coasts, would demolish any legitimate lighthouses or beacons, erect a decoy signal fire in a different, deliberately misleading location, and then, after having induced a shipwreck, subdue any survivors and plunder the wreckage for valuables.

photo from rexhammock

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This is the world. As seen through the 9 eyes of the google street view camera. Expand it. Expand your eyes. Slip out of this world. Get googled.

made by a ghost train

still got love for the streets

from berlin street art

When the spring here is grey and gritty I try not to remember where I was this time last year. I try not to run away.  I don’t think about breathing in Essaouarian Air on the Moroccan Coast. But then I hear Tinariwen and I’m back there, my heart starts pangin.  They come from neighbouring Algeria. And they can take you everywhere.

April showers bring May…showers?
I am a Coastal woman. My spring is liquidated, inundated with moisture. Wet from above and when the wind gets in there – wet from all sides.  Sometimes its like the ocean is reaching up and around us.  Grabbing us up in a  sloppy Maritime group hug.  It looks like this:

Nathan Ford brought this liquid to life.

As J.Mitchel said, “We are stardust, we are golden. We are million year old carbon…”

stellar by ignacia torres

Planetarium Hamburg

The Guardian made a call  yesterday for open access to scientific journals.  It’s about time.  It’s about time that those ivory towers started shooting out flares, dropping rope ladders. Opening up. Breaking down.  I mean, I know that I do have ALOT of perusing to do on a daily basis.  I have ALOT of information available to me.  Shocking amounts of words to consume in a day.  But I want those double-blinded words.  Those tenured, methodologically sound words.  I want to DISSEMINATE! Hey Elsevier! Open up! Let us in!

Hamburg Planetarium by Trashcam Project

Play the record. For the record.

This boy came from Brandi Strickland

This is the only song I have ever heard…for the last 48 hours.  Why is that?  Why is it that I can not stop hitting that spiral repeat button?  Is it the fan-made 20s style aesthetic? The sparse verbage?  The VOICE?

Hard to say.  Maybe it’s just that I’m all about makin that Ca$h MonEy.

Art world jargon.  It’s thick, it’s heavy and it’s everywhere – everywhere art is (usually).  Has it been getting you down?  All the isms?  The pres and the posts?  Have you ever walked away from an aritst statement thinking, “WHy the f*** did I just squander my precious minutes reading a pile of garbage?

Well thank gawd that we have our boy Hennessey Youngman laying down piles of truth

“Fuck your father. Fuck his narratives. Fuck his authority and fuck his essential structures.” – Post Structuralism