Shiny object syndrome

lacollectionneuse:

shirt with trash badges (it 46) • raf simons
US $19.00

High-res Notes: 123 5/19/13 — 3:27pm Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOylMTUNG

zumthor:

Hortus Conclusus

Serpentine Pavilion, arch. Peter Zumthor, London 2011

Via.

High-res Notes: 121 5/13/13 — 7:07pm Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOykwcQTf

zumthor:

Peter Zumthor 1986-2013:
Buildings and Projects

Release Date: ~~July 2013~~ Update 15. September 2013

Price: 200$ (on Amazon)

WANT!

Notes: 46 5/13/13 — 7:05pm Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOykwbsSk

Source: Spotify

5/13/13 — 3:52pm Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOykvk9oR Filed under: #music #spotify

beautilation:

“I’ll never forget the day Marilyn and I were walking around New York City, just having a stroll on a nice day. She loved New York because no one bothered her there like they did in Hollywood, she could put on her plain-jane clothes and no one would notice her. She loved that. So as we we’re walking down Broadway, she turns to me and says ‘Do you want to see me become her?’ I didn’t know what she meant but I just said ‘Yes’- and then I saw it. I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic. And suddenly cars were slowing and people were turning their heads and stopping to stare. They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe as if she pulled off a mask or something, even though a second ago nobody noticed her. I had never seen anything like it before.” - Amy Greene, wife of Marilyn’s personal photographer Milton Greene

Source: beautilation

Notes: 111879 5/11/13 — 9:11am Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOykjxyVk

The train ride to Paris was uneventful. I realized at one point I was crying. Once in Paris, I boarded the Metro to the station Piere-Lachaise, for I had one more thing to do before returning to New York. It was raining again. I stopped at a florist just outside the cemetery walls and bought a small bundle of hyacinths and proceeded to search for Jim Morrison’s grave. At that time there was no marker, and it was not easy to find, but I followed messages scrawled by well-wishers on neighbouring headstones. It was completely silent, save the rustling of autumn leaves and the rain, which was becoming more pronounced. On the unmarked grave were gifts from pilgrims before me: plastic flowers, cigarette butts, half-empty whiskey bottles, broken rosaries, and strange charms. The graffiti surrounding him were words in French from his own songs: C’est la fin, mon merveilleux ami. This is the end, beautiful friend.

Patti Smith, Just Kids p.231 (via micaceous)

Source: beautyisanillusion

Notes: 88 5/10/13 — 8:42pm Short URL: http://tmblr.co/ZbfgOykhpFk2