A Map of London


"This unique glass vessel reflects religious, historical, and cultural connections between Islam and Christianity. The work dates from the Crusader period (1097-1291), when Islamic imagery, including inscriptions in Arabic, as here, was often combined with Christian themes. It includes compositions in which figures resembling saints alternate with two-storied, domed structures that may represent monastic communities."

Syrian glass vessel, ca. 1260


Friday, September 5th 2014 at 12:45 pm 44 notes
It was absolutely quiet now, and absolutely dark. Maurice walked to and fro on the hallowed grass, himself noiseless, his heart glowing. The rest of him fell asleep, bit by bit, and first of all his brain, his weakest organ. His body followed, then his feet carried him upstairs to escape the dawn. But his heart had lit never to be quenched again, and one thing in him at last was real.

E.M. Forster, Maurice

Maybe the best description of the first bursts of love I’ve ever read. This book is gorgeous.

(via differenzeartistiche)

(via andrewstuntpilot)

Wednesday, September 3rd 2014 at 11:08 pm 42 notes
It wasn’t always so. In the trenches of the First World War, English men came to love one another decently, without shame or make-believe, under the easy likelihoods of their sudden deaths, and to find in the faces of other young men evidence of otherworldly visits, some poor hope that may have helped redeem even mud, shit, the decaying pieces of human meat. … It was the end of the world, it was total revolution (though not quite in the way Walter Rathenau had announced): every day thousands of the aristocracy new and old, still haloed in their ideas of right and wrong, went to the loud guillotine of Flanders, run day in and out, on and on, by no visible hands, certainly not those of the people—an English class was being decimated, the ones who’d volunteered were dying for those who’d known something and hadn’t, and despite it all, despite knowing, some of them, of the betrayal, while Europe died meanly in its own wastes, men loved.
-Thomas Pynchon (from Gravity’s Rainbow)
Tuesday, February 11th 2014 at 5:20 pm 1 note

I will soon be emerging from my ~hiatus, and am currently in the process of transforming my ordinary bagel into an extraordinary blogue.™ Thus, if you happen upon it in the next few days and find it rather dusty and incomplete, I beg your forgiveness.  Everything will be better soon.

Thursday, December 26th 2013 at 3:02 pm 5 notes

West End at dusk, London, United Kingdom, September 2013.

(Source: sherlocks, via elsewherefornow)

Wednesday, October 9th 2013 at 3:25 pm 3,586 notes


pronunciation | hU-‘zUn

Junior year: a synopsis.

(via hosekisama)

Tuesday, June 11th 2013 at 1:30 am 5,658 notes

Homosassa, Florida

Wednesday, July 11th 2012 at 11:34 pm 3 notes
Major updates

This dumb blog is getting a makeover before I head out on a series of adventures that might just wind up taking me to places like Roger Casement’s grave.  Expect big things, my friends.  Big things.

Sunday, June 17th 2012 at 9:34 pm 2 notes

It’s summertime, and even the snakes can’t be troubled to do much but curl themselves around raspberry bushes and bask in the sun.  The fan runs all night, and on the nights it doesn’t rain, I can hear hundreds of insects rubbing their legs together outside my window.  I am suddenly free to do anything (a fact which I continuously have to remind myself of), and more importantly, am free to do absolutely nothing at all.  There is a certain joy, I think - a joy that only comes in small doses - in these first few weeks of ripe freedom, when all that “summer” means is humid days and open-window nights.

Thursday, June 14th 2012 at 12:17 am 4 notes

The Basilica of Notre Dame, Montréal, Quebec, Canada.  (Not really relevant to what I’ve been doing for this past week, but close to le Palais de Congrès, and pretty.)

Thursday, April 26th 2012 at 10:36 pm 8 notes