bad eminence

An outsiders view on books, music, culture and politics

phenex1331:

20 places that don’t look real (part 2)

11.Mount Roraima-South america

12.Naico mine-Mexico

13.Red beach-China

14.Solar du Uyuni-Bolivia

15.Tainzi mountians-China

16.Tulip fields-Netherlands

17.Tunnel of love-Ukraine

18.Wisteria flower tunnel-Japan

19.Zhangye Danxia landform-China

20.Zhangya Danxia Landfrom 2-China

(Source: phenex-sirius, via homicidal-not-suicidal)

newsweek:

Micheline Bérnard always loved Lionel Desormeaux. Their parents were friends though that bonhomie had not quite carried on to the children.
Micheline and Lionel went to primary and secondary school together, had known each other all their lives—when Lionel looked upon Micheline he was always overcome with the vague feeling he had seen her somewhere before while she was overcome with the precise knowledge that he was the man of her dreams.
In truth, everyone loved Lionel Desormeaux. He was tall and brown with high cheekbones and full lips. His body was perfectly muscled and after a long day of swimming in the ocean, he would emerge from the salty water, glistening.
Micheline would sit in a cabana, invisible. She would lick her lips and she would stare. She would think, “Look at me, Lionel,” but he never did.
When Lionel walked, there was an air about him. He moved slowly but with deliberate steps and sometimes, when he walked, people swore they could hear the bass of a deep drum. His mother, who loved her only boy more than any other, always told him, “Lionel, you are the son of L’Ouverture.”
He believed her. He believed everything his mother ever told him. Lionel always told his friends, “My father freed our people. I am his greatest son.” In Port-au-Prince, there were too many women. Micheline knew competition for Lionel’s attention was fierce. She was attractive, petite. She wore her thick hair in a sensible bun.
On weekends, she would let that hair down and when she walked by, men would shout, “Quelle belle paire de jambes,” what beautiful legs, and Micheline would savor the thrilling taste of their attention. Most Friday nights, Micheline and her friends would gather at Oasis, a popular nightclub on the edge of the Bel Air slum. She drank fruity drinks and smoked French cigarettes and wore skirts revealing just the right amount of leg.
Lionel was always surrounded by a mob of adoring women. He let them buy him rum and Cokes and always sat at the center of the room wearing his pressed linen slacks and dark tee shirts that showed off his perfect, chiseled arms.
At the end of the night, he would select one woman to take home, bed her thoroughly, and wish her well the following morning. The stone path to his front door was lined with the tears and soiled panties of the women Lionel had sexed then scorned.
On her birthday, Micheline decided she would be the woman Lionel took home. She wore a bright sundress, strapless. She dabbed perfume everywhere she wanted to feel Lionel’s lips. She wore high heels so high her brother had to help her into the nightclub.
When Lionel arrived to hold court, Micheline made sure she was closest. She smiled widely and angled her shoulders just so and leaned in so he could see everything he wanted to see within her ample cleavage. At the end of the night, Lionel nodded in her direction. He said, “Tonight you will know the affections of L’Ouverture’s greatest son.”
There is No “E” in Zombi Which Means There Can Be No You Or We by Roxane Gay - Guernica 

An interesting, powerful and haunting myth.  Well done, Roxane.

newsweek:

Micheline Bérnard always loved Lionel Desormeaux. Their parents were friends though that bonhomie had not quite carried on to the children.

Micheline and Lionel went to primary and secondary school together, had known each other all their lives—when Lionel looked upon Micheline he was always overcome with the vague feeling he had seen her somewhere before while she was overcome with the precise knowledge that he was the man of her dreams.

In truth, everyone loved Lionel Desormeaux. He was tall and brown with high cheekbones and full lips. His body was perfectly muscled and after a long day of swimming in the ocean, he would emerge from the salty water, glistening.

Micheline would sit in a cabana, invisible. She would lick her lips and she would stare. She would think, “Look at me, Lionel,” but he never did.

When Lionel walked, there was an air about him. He moved slowly but with deliberate steps and sometimes, when he walked, people swore they could hear the bass of a deep drum. His mother, who loved her only boy more than any other, always told him, “Lionel, you are the son of L’Ouverture.”

He believed her. He believed everything his mother ever told him. Lionel always told his friends, “My father freed our people. I am his greatest son.” In Port-au-Prince, there were too many women. Micheline knew competition for Lionel’s attention was fierce. She was attractive, petite. She wore her thick hair in a sensible bun.

On weekends, she would let that hair down and when she walked by, men would shout, “Quelle belle paire de jambes,” what beautiful legs, and Micheline would savor the thrilling taste of their attention. Most Friday nights, Micheline and her friends would gather at Oasis, a popular nightclub on the edge of the Bel Air slum. She drank fruity drinks and smoked French cigarettes and wore skirts revealing just the right amount of leg.

Lionel was always surrounded by a mob of adoring women. He let them buy him rum and Cokes and always sat at the center of the room wearing his pressed linen slacks and dark tee shirts that showed off his perfect, chiseled arms.

At the end of the night, he would select one woman to take home, bed her thoroughly, and wish her well the following morning. The stone path to his front door was lined with the tears and soiled panties of the women Lionel had sexed then scorned.

On her birthday, Micheline decided she would be the woman Lionel took home. She wore a bright sundress, strapless. She dabbed perfume everywhere she wanted to feel Lionel’s lips. She wore high heels so high her brother had to help her into the nightclub.

When Lionel arrived to hold court, Micheline made sure she was closest. She smiled widely and angled her shoulders just so and leaned in so he could see everything he wanted to see within her ample cleavage. At the end of the night, Lionel nodded in her direction. He said, “Tonight you will know the affections of L’Ouverture’s greatest son.”

There is No “E” in Zombi Which Means There Can Be No You Or We by Roxane Gay - Guernica

An interesting, powerful and haunting myth.  Well done, Roxane.

(via roxanegay)

oakapples:

Watching the first of the BBC’s new series on British Gardens in Time, which looks at the story of Christopher Lloyd’s garden at Great Dixter, Sussex. Such a stunning place.

Lloyd was interesting to me in the way he sort of opened up toward some of the wildest color schemes in later life after being rather conservative and staid when he was younger.  It was like he realized time was getting short and why the hell not have screaming red and pink together in the garden.  Life is too short for just white and blue gardens.

(via hyggehaven)

botanicality:

botanicality:

ANNOUNCING THE 2ND ANNUAL BOTANICALITY TUMBLR SPRING BOTANICAL ART SHOW!

The 2nd annual Botanicality Tumblr Spring Botanical Art Show is the opportunity to expose amateur and professional artists working in contemporary visual arts to a wider digital audience.   This exhibition is a showcase meant to highlight the Spring botanical experience in 2-D mediums.  Submitted art should relate to the theme of Spring botanical experience.

ELIGIBILITY

All tumblr users are eligible to submit  up to (2) original works of art in five categories: (1) painting, (2) drawing/sketching, (3) digital painting, drawing, or sketching, (4) photography, and (5) mixed media

JURY
The judging of each category will be based upon likes and reblogs.  Each active tumblr user may vote for their favorite art pieces by clicking like or reblog on the original art post at http://botanicality.tumblr.com. While tumblr users may like or reblog multiple entries, duplicate votes will be eliminated.  The entries receiving the most combined likes and reblogs will win first prize in their category and compete for Best of Show

AWARDS

Your contest co-hosts, bromeliace, cactguy, and flora-file have joined forces to offer a wide variety of botanical swag for the winners including, but not limited to, vintage botanical prints, plant cuttings and offsets, seed, and gardening gear.  Be on the lookout for more prize announcements!

REQUIREMENTS

Submissions must be made to botanicality13@gmail.com by 11:59.59 PM CST on April 30, 2014.

Submission emails must include the artist’s tumblr link, artist’s name, category, and name of art piece.

Submissions must be in .jpg format.

Filename instructions: Last name_First name_entry#.jpg (ie. Smith_David_1.jpg)

The contest creators retain the right to refuse posting of works considered unsuitable for presentation.

TERMS OF AGREEMENT

 By submitting artwork for consideration, the Artist acknowledges and accepts the following stated terms:

The Artist attests that the artwork submitted is copyright free and of their own creation.

The Artist retains ownership of submitted art, but Botanicality and show co-hosts have rights to share the artwork via their personal tumblr blog.

The Artist agrees to hold the art show hosts harmless and waive all claims or causes of action against them relating to the exhibition of the Artist’s artwork.

 

TIMELINE

April 1 - April 30 - All entries must be received by Tuesday, April 30, at 11:59.59 PM CST. Late entries will not be accepted.

May 1 - Accepted works of art will be posted to http://botanicality.tumblr.com

May 1-15 - Accepted works of art will be posted by show co-hosts for voting via likes and reblogs by registered tumblr users.  Any votes received after 11:59.59 PM CST on May 15 will not be accepted.

May 16 - Category winners will be announced.

May 16-31 - Category winners will be posted by show co-hosts for voting via likes and reblogs by registered tumblr users.  Any votes received after 11:59.59 PM CST on May 31 will not be accepted.

June 1 - Best of Show will be announced and prizes awarded for all finalists.

View 2013 Show

Two weeks remain to enter!

(via mattdoux)

rachelcookgardendesign:

Rheum palmatum, Chinese rhubarb.

Sweet cicely.

Papaver rupifragum ‘Tangerine Parfait’ poppy

Purple clover with Sanguisorba ‘Pink Tanna’ burnett.

We told the white missionary that we had such fables too, but kept them for the entertainment of those yet growing up — fables of gods and devils and a supreme being above everything. We told him we knew soft minds needed such illusions, but that when any mind grew among us to adulthood it grew beyond these fables and came to understand that there is indeed a great force in the world, a force spiritual and able to shape the physical universe, but that that force is not something that is cut off, not something separate from ourselves. It is an energy in us, strongest in our working, breathing, thinking together as one people; weakest when we are scattered, confused, broken into individual, unconnected fragments.

—Ayi Kwei Armah (via fit-free-rbg)

(via hyggehaven)