another magpie

Life and Death in the Garden of EdenOil pastel and ink on paper, + wibbly iphone scan

Life and Death in the Garden of Eden
Oil pastel and ink on paper, + wibbly iphone scan

Film still for lazy person texture.

Film still for lazy person texture.

Fling the emptiness out of your arms  into the spaces we breathe; perhaps the birds  will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying. - Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies: The First Elegy

Fling the emptiness out of your arms
into the spaces we breathe; perhaps the birds
will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies: The First Elegy

Lionel Terray said it the truest, I set it to music. We’re all conquistadors of the useless.  
- Charles Andrew Bothwell (Astronautalis, Contrails)

Lionel Terray said it the truest, I set it to music
We’re all conquistadors of the useless.  

- Charles Andrew Bothwell (Astronautalis, Contrails)

T.S. Eliot, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats:
He is quiet and small, he is black / From his ears to the tip of his tail;He can creep through the tiniest crack / He can walk on the narrowest rail.
He can pick any card from a pack, / He is equally cunning with dice;He is always deceiving you into believing / That he’s only hunting for mice.

T.S. Eliot, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats:

He is quiet and small, he is black / From his ears to the tip of his tail;
He can creep through the tiniest crack / He can walk on the narrowest rail.

He can pick any card from a pack, / He is equally cunning with dice;
He is always deceiving you into believing / That he’s only hunting for mice.

(Source: tolivewithoutalifeline)

They are passing, posthaste, posthaste, the gliding years—to use a soul-rending Horatian inflection.  The years are passing, my dear, and presently nobody will know what you and I know. - V. Nabokov

They are passing, posthaste, posthaste, the gliding years—to use a soul-rending Horatian inflection.  The years are passing, my dear, and presently nobody will know what you and I know. - V. Nabokov

To be born is anything but this:
Preemptive nostalgia of the possible but doubtful

—Yoni Wolf (Why?), Paper Hearts


Geoffrey Johnson via artemisdreaming.

In the wake of the storm ||
I love how people emerge, cautiously and amazed, after something cataclysmic. Don’t mean that in a schadenfreude way—just how everyone pretends to be so normal, even though we all know how NOT normal it really feels. 
Oh hard-boiled city, you’re wonderful.

Geoffrey Johnson via artemisdreaming.

In the wake of the storm ||

I love how people emerge, cautiously and amazed, after something cataclysmic. Don’t mean that in a schadenfreude way—just how everyone pretends to be so normal, even though we all know how NOT normal it really feels. 

Oh hard-boiled city, you’re wonderful.

Translation | How to Understand Garment Labels

image

Translation* by anothermagpie, of Géraldine’s excellent article, “How to Read Clothing Tags" (Café Mode). With thanks to lovely Garance Doré, for pointing us to Geraldine.

Yesterday, Mathilde came to the office with a gorgeous sweaterdress. “What’s this material?” I immediately asked her. She shrugged in response, thrown off by my question. I gaped at her. “You never look at the tags?” “Nope. I cut them off because they itch me, and anyway I have no idea what they’re saying.” I launched into a mini remedial course for Mathilde, but then I thought to myself that maybe some of you might find it interesting too. So here’s what I can say on the subject, though I have to say I’m no expert. I’m just an obsessee of beautiful materials, religiously retaining my classes from my dear Professor of Fabrics at the IFM [transl: Institut Francais de la Mode].

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"You must have gone there about the time Biloxi went to New Haven.” 
Another pause. A waiter knocked and came in with crushed mint and ice but the silence was unbroken by his “thank you.” and the soft closing of the door.  - F.S.F.

"You must have gone there about the time Biloxi went to New Haven.” 

Another pause. A waiter knocked and came in with crushed mint and ice but the silence was unbroken by his “thank you.” and the soft closing of the door.  - F.S.F.

Die Elster auf dem Galgen

No, the Internet doesn’t need another inquisitive blog with “magpie” in the title.* I make up for it by pointing you to a remarkable painting by Brueghel the Elder.

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… before them were the sands, with rocks and little pools of salt water, and seaweed, and the smell of the sea and long miles of bluish-green waves breaking for ever and ever on the beach. And oh, the cry of the seagulls! Have you ever heard it? Can you remember?  - C.S. Lewis 

… before them were the sands, with rocks and little pools of salt water, and seaweed, and the smell of the sea and long miles of bluish-green waves breaking for ever and ever on the beach. And oh, the cry of the seagulls! Have you ever heard it? Can you remember?  - C.S. Lewis 

(Source: urbanoutfitters, via moltobenebell)

It’s cheating a little, because this year an early snow ruined everything… But last year’s colors are just as good.

It’s cheating a little, because this year an early snow ruined everything… But last year’s colors are just as good.

Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the
still point, there the dance is:

—T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton