narcissistic pleasures / Ask Archive

Laika during her spaceflight on board Sputnik 2 (November 3, 1957)

The Grand Budapest Hotel - Vehicles

(Source: nicotineclouds, via z-v-k)

(via z-v-k)


you wanna fight? alright let’s take this outside! the stars are so bright tonight. the moon looks so nice. hold my hand

(via z-v-k)


Two-Minute Personality Test

By Jonathan Safran Foer

What’s the kindest thing you almost did? Is your fear of insomnia stronger than your fear of what awoke you? Are bonsai cruel? Do you love what you love, or just the feeling? Your earliest memories: do you look though your young…

(Source: thismtnsoul)


A video of me drawing a small comet travelling very quickly… I don’t ‘plan’ any of my drawings, I just think of them and do them. This video shows my process to doing my universe drawings and also blasts some nice music into your brain: All The Flowers (Lone remix) by Bibio. I use a 0.5 mechanical pencil, a stencil and a white watercolour pencil on Grey Stonehenge paper.



Elizabeth Peyton. Andro, 2013. rawk-y:

baby girl 
I don’t understand why sex is more shocking than violence.
Lea Seydoux talking about American films. (via

(via phagoccytosis)


GO SLOW l-homme-que-je-suis:

Ben Allen Photographed by Adrien Sicart Backstage @ Melinda Gloss Spring/Summer 2015

Jaime Johnson, “Rest,” 2014. 30 x 40 inches. Tea-stained cyanotype
Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.

Immigrants. First generation.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo.


(Source: theijeoma, via avenue)