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29 May 2012
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7 May 2012
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5 May 2012
[Flash 10 is required to watch video](Source: dysenterygay, via asianmaid)
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My version of flirting is looking at someone I find attractive multiple times and hoping they are more brave than I am.
(Source: exotic-ice, via cyst)
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3 May 2012
steven’s van (by Ivanabogdan)
high school…
Creepy because he kinda looks like me…
(via afixforthefits)
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26 March 2012
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fear is not your identity: You know what’s great/weird/horrible about posting art online? (Or...
You know what’s great/weird/horrible about posting artonline? (Or anything, but art’s my realm of experience). Other people are intimidated by you.
Like. They’re surprised when you acknowledge them. Or they’re thrilled when you say hi. Or they think you’re always judging their art against your own. Or that they aren’t worthy.
This is the strangest fucking thing for me, because I don’t know how to make it any more clear that I am sitting here balancing a laptop on the arm of a chair with a coffee table book about curry on my crotch, trying to draw that guy from that show you like and thinking passionately about whether there’s still ice cream in the freezer. I mean, I’m a high school dropout. I’ve never been to college, I’ve never had ajobthat didn’t pay in shortbread. I’m probably younger than you (if I’m not, I won’t be much older). Nowhere else would I get any respect for the fact I used to lock myself in cupboards and read books about art and draw faces to help me recognise them. I wouldn’t get much respect at all. And that’s pretty cool.
But I think you’re cool, too. If you draw. If you think about drawing or wish you could draw. If you care about art in the slightest. I totally love you, and I want to be your friend and impress you, and you are fascinating and brilliant to me.
Yes.
(via marylinsmoon)
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21 March 2012
On August 8th of 1933, author F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote the following letter of advice to his 11-year-old daughter, “Scottie,” who was away at camp.
(Source: F. Scott Fitzgerald: A Life in Letters ; Image: Fitzgerald with both his daughter, “Scottie,” and wife, Zelda, via.)La Paix, Rodgers’ Forge
Towson, Maryland
August 8, 1933
Dear Pie:
I feel very strongly about you doing duty. Would you give me a little more documentation about your reading in French? I am glad you are happy — but I never believe much in happiness. I never believe in misery either. Those are things you see on the stage or the screen or the printed pages, they never really happen to you in life.
All I believe in in life is the rewards for virtue (according to your talents) and the punishments for not fulfilling your duties, which are doubly costly. If there is such a volume in the camp library, will you ask Mrs. Tyson to let you look up a sonnet of Shakespeare’s in which the line occurs “Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.”
Have had no thoughts today, life seems composed of getting up aSaturday Evening Post story. I think of you, and always pleasantly; but if you call me “Pappy” again I am going to take the White Cat out and beat his bottom hard, six times for every time you are impertinent. Do you react to that?
I will arrange the camp bill.
Halfwit, I will conclude.
Things to worry about:
Worry about courage
Worry about Cleanliness
Worry about efficiency
Worry about horsemanship
Worry about…
Things not to worry about:
Don’t worry about popular opinion
Don’t worry about dolls
Don’t worry about the past
Don’t worry about the future
Don’t worry about growing up
Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
Don’t worry about triumph
Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
Don’t worry about mosquitoes
Don’t worry about flies
Don’t worry about insects in general
Don’t worry about parents
Don’t worry about boys
Don’t worry about disappointments
Don’t worry about pleasures
Don’t worry about satisfactions
Things to think about:
What am I really aiming at?
How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:
(a) Scholarship
(b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them?
(c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?
With dearest love,
Daddy
P.S. My come-back to your calling me Pappy is christening you by the word Egg, which implies that you belong to a very rudimentary state of life and that I could break you up and crack you open at my will and I think it would be a word that would hang on if I ever told it to your contemporaries. “Egg Fitzgerald.” How would you like that to go through life with — “Eggie Fitzgerald” or “Bad Egg Fitzgerald” or any form that might occur to fertile minds? Try it once more and I swear to God I will hang it on you and it will be up to you to shake it off. Why borrow trouble?
Love anyhow.(via aequinoctium)
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14 March 2012
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10 March 2012
(via fl3sh)
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7 March 2012
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5 March 2012
Whoa. The MLA has officially devised a standard format to cite tweets in an academic paper. Sign of the times.
…What?
(via sle4zy)






