This is a fun contest and it’s great for all dog lovers (appreciators) out there! Enter your pup or vote for some of your fellow tumblr’s pets! I mean, who wouldn’t want to see their pet on the cover of a magazine?
Go check it out, throw in a vote to any of these fine looking pooches!
“At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face.”—
Camus (via themadeshop) I want to film this quote spoken in French with while light text against black, then a man crossing the street gets smacked in the face by a clown who ‘honk-honk’s and runs off. Then the narrator says ‘I meant it figuratively. This thought occurre to me only after the quote deeply moved me to reblog it. (via ronenreblogs)
“More and more, when faced with the world of men, the only reaction is one of individualism. Man alone is an end unto himself. Everything one tries to do for the common good ends in failure.”—Camus, again.
This afternoon, taking a break from my painting at Starbucks, a pretty dusty and trim looking old vagabond with a grey goatee walked up to me and asked nicely to bum a cigarette, mentioning that he’d “really appreciate it.” I generally don’t give out cigarettes, but he was pleasant, and I sensed that his appreciation (judging my his tooth, no tooth, tooth, no tooth grin) would be sincere. So I gave him one. Sometimes it turns out that it’s worth giving away a cigarette in exchange for the conversation that will then follow:
Me: Here you go.
Vagabond: Thank you sir. I really appreciate it. What are you reading?
Me:Consider the Lobster.
Vagabond: What’s that about?
Me: It’s a collection of essays by David Foster Wallace.
Vagabond: Do you go to college?
Me: No, I’m a freelance artist.
Vagabond: [displaying tooth, no tooth, etc. grin] I’m a poet!
Me: Is that right?
Vagabond: You bet. I see things, and then I write poetry. I just do what I have to, you know what I mean?
Me: Definitely. [I didn’t.]
Vagabond: Being a poet, you have to learn to look at things. You have to really look at what’s going on. Like, I look around here and… well, Arvada sucks.
Me: Cities are better?
Vagabond: Well, Vail man. Vail or Winter Park. I go up there [and here I was expecting him to talk about the beauty of nature, snow, etc.] and I go to the ski lifts, and I can just write a poem. Like, ok: [and here he spread his arms out to frame a picture for me] “The snowboarders … coming down the mountain …”