Chartres Cathedral.
From L’Orléanais (Orléans and its area), by M. V. Philipon de La Madelaine, Paris, 1845.
(Source: archive.org)
(via ayjay)
Chartres Cathedral.
From L’Orléanais (Orléans and its area), by M. V. Philipon de La Madelaine, Paris, 1845.
(Source: archive.org)
(via ayjay)
If anyone has labored from the first hour, let them today receive the just reward.
If anyone has come at the third hour, with thanksgiving let them feast.
If anyone has arrived at the sixth hour, let them have no misgivings; for they shall suffer no loss.
If anyone has delayed until the ninth hour, let them draw near without hesitation.
If anyone has arrived even at the eleventh hour, let them not fear on account of tardiness.
For the Master is gracious and receives the last even as the first; He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour, just as to him who has labored from the first.
(Source: wesleyhill, via ayjay)
Marketers do a great job convincing us we need more. They establish a void so we will try to fill it. This is no secret. In fact, we take it for granted now; amongst the bombardment, we realize what advertisers are doing, yet we still give them carte blanche with our attention—we let them into our homes and onto our screens and into our personal lives via Facebook and other outlets—and when we do, the void gets deeper.
For most of us, however, the void has nothing to do with a need to consume more. In fact, the opposite is true: when we consume too much, we experience stress and anxiety and depression, effectively deepening the void. Our possessions possess us. They weigh us down mentally, physically, emotionally, and the void becomes cavernous.
Thus, we need to realize that the real void is on the other side of the equation. The void most of us feel is a creative void. We’ve been so caught up in our consumeristic mindset that we’ve forgotten about our inherent need to create. The solution, then, is to create more and consume less. If we spend more time creating, we will necessarily spend less time consuming. This is how we tip the scales of contentment back in our direction. This is how we solve our individual problems of compulsory consumption and mindless self-indulgence.
So let’s each of us pick one meaningful thing we’d like to create, one thing that will add value to the world, and let’s create it. Let’s fill the real void together.
(via maureen-lynch)
Experience has taught me that the less satisfying the narrative of the day has been, the more likely I am to be unable to let it go. My body keeps me awake until my mind has sculpted something more shapely from the day or I am able to distract it with a more engaging narrative borrowed from the pages of a book. The vigilance of the waking hours is over but so is the magic lantern of event. No matter how glad I am to sink into unconsciousness, this always feels like a loss. Children, who are in so many ways more fully alive than us, understand this intuitively, I think. It’s a rare child who volunteers to go to bed: they too need stories, borrowed narratives to persuade them away from the thrills and puzzles of their own day.
We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones will get ruined. We can’t take skinny dips in the ocean, because there’s no service on the beach and adventures aren’t real unless they’re on Instagram. Technology has doomed the spontaneity of adventure and we’re helping destroy it every time we Google, check-in, and hashtag.
Jeremy Glass, We Can’t Get Lost Anymore (via wendesgray)
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/we-cant-get-lost-anymore/
(via maureen-lynch)
(Source: her0inchic, via maureen-lynch)
Time: 30 minutes. Kale takes the place of lettuce in this twist on traditional Caesar, and wilting the greens on the grill adds a subtle smoky flavor. Serves 4.
IngredientsIt often happens that two schoolboys can solve difficulties in their work for one another better than the master can. When you took the problem to a master, as we all remember, he was very likely to explain what you understood already, to add a great deal of information which you didn’t want, and say nothing at all about the thing that was puzzling you. I have watched this from both sides of the net; for when, as a teacher myself, I have tried to answer questions brought me by pupils, I have sometimes, after a minute, seen that expression settle down on their faces that assured me that they were suffering exactly the same frustration which I had suffered from my teachers. The fellow-pupil can help more than the master because he knows less. The difficulty we want him to explain is one he has recently met. The expert met it so long ago he has forgotten. He sees the whole subject, by now, in a different light that he cannot conceive what is really troubling the pupil; he sees a dozen other difficulties which ought to be troubling him but aren’t.
On January 14, 1943 most of the leaders of the Allied nations met at Casablanca to determine a strategy for the remainder of the war. President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill attended, along with leaders of the Free French, and many military officers. (Stalin, occupied with the presence of…
The history of literature is replete with folly but the news that Sebastian Faulks is writing a novel featuring Reginald Jeeves and Bertram Wooster knocks all other blunders into a cocked-hat. We are not gruntled.
Madness, not to put too fine a point on it, seems the only explanation for such a project. Perhaps, like Gussie Fink-Nottle, Mr Faulks is a glutton for punishment. Like the newt-fancier, one supposes he must spend a good deal of time staring at himself in the mirror.
As for the rest of us, well, like the BBC’s present lamentable adaptation of Blandings this news has us groaning and wincing “like Prometheus watching his vulture dropping in for lunch”.
(via ayjay)