Install this theme

Astronaut Don Pettit, playing with his food
“But how does one clean  out the whiskers in weightlessness?  On Earth, you simply open the head  and shake them out. Doing that up  here would be a disaster. So once a  week, when vacuuming the  accumulation of lint, dust, and detritus  against the air inlet filters,  I vacuum my razor. I hold the vacuum  cleaner hose between my legs, and  use both hands to carefully open the  shaving head in front of the  suction. A cloud of whiskers jumps out,  appearing like a miniature  asteroid field, then quickly disappears into a  black hole, with no  chance of escape.”
One of my new favourite things is Letters To Earth,   the NASA blog of astronaut Don Pettit, who is currently aboard the   International Space Station. He writes most days, often about the mundane, day-to-day things of living in zero  gravity:  where chopsticks go when you lose them (not down), how to  clean your  electric shaver, toilet facilities on the Soyuz spacecraft,  that sort of  thing. He is a lovely writer, thoughtful and emotional and  funny, philosophical about  the little things, awe-struck by the beauty  of our planet and everything  in the sky around him. His musings on  humanity and our perception of ourselves are quite beautiful and he takes some jaw-dropping photos as the  ISS orbits (see Grand Canyon and the Eye of Issyk Kul).
Also he invented a zero-g coffee cup. Cool.
I have various astronomy apps on my iPhone that track the ISS and   sometimes I look up at the sky and try to imagine that craft so high   above me and Don up there, floating around in the capsule eating his space   food or doing science or snoozing in his strapped-down sleeping bag or just doing general spaceman stuff and I look forward to hearing about what he’s been up to again.

Astronaut Don Pettit, playing with his food

“But how does one clean out the whiskers in weightlessness? On Earth, you simply open the head and shake them out. Doing that up here would be a disaster. So once a week, when vacuuming the accumulation of lint, dust, and detritus against the air inlet filters, I vacuum my razor. I hold the vacuum cleaner hose between my legs, and use both hands to carefully open the shaving head in front of the suction. A cloud of whiskers jumps out, appearing like a miniature asteroid field, then quickly disappears into a black hole, with no chance of escape.”

One of my new favourite things is Letters To Earth, the NASA blog of astronaut Don Pettit, who is currently aboard the International Space Station. He writes most days, often about the mundane, day-to-day things of living in zero gravity: where chopsticks go when you lose them (not down), how to clean your electric shaver, toilet facilities on the Soyuz spacecraft, that sort of thing. He is a lovely writer, thoughtful and emotional and funny, philosophical about the little things, awe-struck by the beauty of our planet and everything in the sky around him. His musings on humanity and our perception of ourselves are quite beautiful and he takes some jaw-dropping photos as the ISS orbits (see Grand Canyon and the Eye of Issyk Kul).

Also he invented a zero-g coffee cup. Cool.

I have various astronomy apps on my iPhone that track the ISS and sometimes I look up at the sky and try to imagine that craft so high above me and Don up there, floating around in the capsule eating his space food or doing science or snoozing in his strapped-down sleeping bag or just doing general spaceman stuff and I look forward to hearing about what he’s been up to again.

O hai.

I loved my week 2 photography assignment so much I bought the company. I mean, I did the whole thing twice, once at the beach of the abandoned Shoreham Fort (these here are my favourites from the fort, which I took to class tonight) and once in the woods. As usually, they’re a shitload better uncompressified and on Flickr. I think I’m becoming obsessed, which is just as well because I mostly feel sad at the moment and taking photographs is something that makes me feel less sad. The way I figure it, the more photos I take the happier I’ll become. I heard that’s the way it works for humans so I thought I might try it out and see if it works for me too. You never know.

Isn’t it strange the things that can save you?

To happiness, then. And a kiss on both cheeks for you.

liquidnight:

Lisette Model
Fifth Avenue, late 1940s
From Lisette Model

liquidnight:

Lisette Model

Fifth Avenue, late 1940s

From Lisette Model

Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

(Source: honeyforthehomeless)

Etta James, “At Last”

RIP, sweet lady.

crookedindifference:

Sounds of the sea: Listening online to the ocean floor

Wonderful.
If you ever get me talking about scuba diving - and I can talk about it for hours, I love it - I’m likely to bang on about how noisy it is underwater. It never occurred to me that it would be. I imagined a brave new world of totally different sights and bodily experiences but the sound was a complete shock. I can’t really explain it, but I will say that you wouldn’t invite a Parrotfish to a dinner party with the din they make grazing on algae-covered coral.
I miss diving so much. I miss that strange feeling of being tightly enclosed in complete freedom. So if anyone needs an experienced, PADI Advanced Open Water qualified diver for anything - rescuing dogs, locating buried treasure, playing mermaids, fetching you pearls from the deep, anything - let me know.

crookedindifference:

Sounds of the sea: Listening online to the ocean floor

Wonderful.

If you ever get me talking about scuba diving - and I can talk about it for hours, I love it - I’m likely to bang on about how noisy it is underwater. It never occurred to me that it would be. I imagined a brave new world of totally different sights and bodily experiences but the sound was a complete shock. I can’t really explain it, but I will say that you wouldn’t invite a Parrotfish to a dinner party with the din they make grazing on algae-covered coral.

I miss diving so much. I miss that strange feeling of being tightly enclosed in complete freedom. So if anyone needs an experienced, PADI Advanced Open Water qualified diver for anything - rescuing dogs, locating buried treasure, playing mermaids, fetching you pearls from the deep, anything - let me know.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Classes In Silence (for Jess) by Happy Particles from the album: Under Sleeping Waves

“Classes In Silence (for Jess)”, Happy Particles

So beautiful. Long and so beautiful.

(Source: happyparticles.bandcamp.com)

lindaboucher:

A sad day.
Where would we be without our Kodak moments.

“Light makes photography. Embrace light. Admire it.  Love it. But above all, know light. Know it for all you are worth, and  you will know the key to photography. “ George Eastman
Bye bye, Kodak. :(

lindaboucher:

A sad day.

Where would we be without our Kodak moments.

“Light makes photography. Embrace light. Admire it. Love it. But above all, know light. Know it for all you are worth, and you will know the key to photography.
George Eastman

Bye bye, Kodak. :(

Fire Lookouts of Montana by Tom Persinger

Oh man. Perfect, beautiful, nest-like. I feel blissed out just looking at these. And oh, Montana. I want to curl up here. I want this job. I could totally do this job. I’m going to find out about this job.

There’s more on the project and about the men and women who work as fire lookouts.

Hello babies.

So for my photography class assignment this week I had to produce a fuckton of self-portraits, literal and non-literal, no post-processing (ack!), with my amazing new/old Canon EOS 20D. I am loving doing this so much, learning so much. I feel so happy, so calm, so right, when I’m making photographs, it is just the best thing. Though it is weird spending so much time thinking about yourself and how to comunicate you through images, composing those images, taking them, looking at them, deciding what is right. My hour with my camera in the woods (top right) playing and messing about and setting up the self-timer and running away was the happiest I’ve been in ages. True story. I can’t wait to do landscape. More clouds! Whee! So I’ll put a few up here every week, my favourites, but if you want to look at them properly, and see the others, have a look on Flickr because the compression on Tumblr is shocking. Shocking, I tell you.

Some of these I really love, some of them I don’t, but I’m learning and loving it which is the whole point. I’m presenting the final 18 in class tomorrow (I’ll be calling them GPOYW because I love confounding people) so why don’t you come watch me stammer and blush and laugh and I’ll let you buy me a pint afterwards. If you can’t make it tomorrow there is always Flickr, if it do ya and thankee sai.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Leyendo en el Hospital by Gustavo Santaolalla from the album: Motorcycle Diaries

Gustavo Santaolalla, “Leyendo en el Hospital” (from the soundtrack to The Motorcycle Diaries)

There was a feather caught in branches and sunshine yesterday.
On Flickr.

There was a feather caught in branches and sunshine yesterday.

On Flickr.

“For the first time I know what love is…”

In 1937, as photographer Ansel Adams recovered from a nervous breakdown, he wrote this beautiful letter to his best friend, Cedric Wright:

“Dear Cedric,

A strange thing happened to me today. I saw a big thundercloud move down over Half Dome, and it was so big and clear and brilliant that it made me see many things that were drifting around inside of me; things that relate to those who are loved and those who are real friends.

For the first time I know what love is; what friends are; and what art should be.

Love is a seeking for a way of life; the way that cannot be followed alone; the resonance of all spiritual and physical things. Children are not only of flesh and blood — children may be ideas, thoughts, emotions. The person of the one who is loved is a form composed of a myriad mirrors reflecting and illuminating the powers and thoughts and the emotions that are within you, and flashing another kind of light from within. No words or deeds may encompass it.

Friendship is another form of love — more passive perhaps, but full of the transmitting and acceptances of things like thunderclouds and grass and the clean granite of reality.

Art is both love and friendship and understanding: the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of things. It is more than kindness, which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light of the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is a recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the interrelations of these.

I wish the thundercloud had moved up over Tahoe and let loose on you; I could wish you nothing finer.

Ansel”

(Source: lettersofnote.com)

By this time tomorrow my place will be overrun by origami foxes. Overrun, I tell you.

By this time tomorrow my place will be overrun by origami foxes. Overrun, I tell you.

Are we still talking about Handegg? Can’t we concentrate on something else, like how much I do or do not look like the Manet-ish bird on the door of the girls’ loo right behind me? This is important stuff, you guys. C’mon. Chop chop.

Are we still talking about Handegg? Can’t we concentrate on something else, like how much I do or do not look like the Manet-ish bird on the door of the girls’ loo right behind me? This is important stuff, you guys. C’mon. Chop chop.