Vote for our Cow! If we win we could receive over $20,000 for our art department! I have HERD there is a lot at STEAK here!
Mr. Grady made the Fluffington Post!
(Source: thefluffingtonpost)
The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence. - midnight in paris
Art not even once
(Source: flyingscotsman, via michelleeeeen)
Nothing grows among its pinnacles; there is no shade except under great toadstools of sandstone whose bases have been eaten to the shape of wine glasses by the wind. Everything is flaking, cracking, disintegrating, wearing away in the long, inperceptible weather of time. The ash of ancient volcanic outbursts still sterilizes its soil, and its colors in that waste are the colors that flame in the lonely sunsets on dead planets.”
― Loren Eiseley
me and all my plane jane glory
DEUTER- Tibet - Chomolungma (by srss777)
Chocolate Cheesecake
You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.
—Anais Nin (via littletiedyedress)
