In general, people are not drawn to perfection in others. People are drawn to shared interests, shared problems, and an individual’s life energy. Humans connect with humans. Hiding one’s humanity and trying to project an image of perfection makes a person vague, slippery, lifeless, and uninteresting.
Robert Glover (via kvtes, psych-quotes, twobirdsonabranch)
(Reblogged from dasdingansich)

Anatomy Trains News

Lengthening Fascial Tissues: Working with the Grain

Q: The question that the student has is: “If the fascia is more ‘stretchable in a horizontal means, why are we working with the grain (AT – up the SFL)?

A: Let’s first distinguish between connective tissue structure and myofascia.  Even though this image is brownish in Eric’s microscope, it is pure tendon – the strappy tendon of the latissimus near its insertion in the humerus, and obviously the tendon is running down to up in its orientation.  There’s no muscle in this video.

The video shows that the tendon is easily stretched sideways, which makes sense, as in the body there would be very little sideways tension on the tendon so it would not build up cross-bridging to resist that force, because that force would not show up unless you were rubbing the distal end of your lat back and forth very vigorously on a fence post.


(Reblogged from mudwerks)


Kompotti chopping board by Marimekko

(Reblogged from libraryphantomg5)
(Reblogged from i-mahu)


Dora Maar (French, 1907-1997). “Femme Nu #55”. (via Dora Maar (French, 1907-1997). “Femme Nu #55”.)

(Reblogged from mudwerks)


Pianist Glenn Gould soaks his hands in the sink to limber up his fingers before performing; he starts with lukewarm water and gradually raises the temperature to hot. 

Photographed by Gordon Parks, March 1955

(Source: redguardparty)

(Reblogged from fantomas-en-cavale)


Before the availability of the tape recorder and during the 1950s, when vinyl was scarce, people in the Soviet Union began making records of banned Western music on discarded x-rays.” via Junk Culture

(Reblogged from dreaminginthedeepsouth)
(Reblogged from ziegfeldgirl)
An Improvisation for Angular Momentumby A. R. Ammons
Walking is likeimagination, asingle stepdissolves the circleinto motion; the eye hereand there restson a leaf,gap, or ledge,everything flowingexcept wheresight touches seen:stop, though, andreality snaps backin, locked hard,forms sharplythemselves, bushbank,dentree, phoneline,definite, fixed,the self, too, thencaught real, cloudsand wind meltinginto their directions,breaking around andover, down and out,motions profound,alive, musical!
Perhaps the death mother like the birth motherdoes not desert us but comes to tendand produce us, to make room for usand bear us tenderly, considerately,through the gates, to see us through,to ease our pains, quell our cries,to hover over and nestle us, to deliverus into the greatest, most enduringpeace, all the way past the bother ofrecollection,beyond the finework of frailty,the mishmash house of the coming & going,creation’s fringes,the eddies and curlicues
from Poetry Chaitanya
/Photo by jenny downing /

An Improvisation for Angular Momentum
by A. R. Ammons

Walking is like
imagination, a
single step
dissolves the circle
into motion; the eye here
and there rests
on a leaf,
gap, or ledge,
everything flowing
except where
sight touches seen:
stop, though, and
reality snaps back
in, locked hard,
forms sharply
themselves, bushbank,
dentree, phoneline,
definite, fixed,
the self, too, then
caught real, clouds
and wind melting
into their directions,
breaking around and
over, down and out,
motions profound,
alive, musical!

Perhaps the death mother like the birth mother
does not desert us but comes to tend
and produce us, to make room for us
and bear us tenderly, considerately,
through the gates, to see us through,
to ease our pains, quell our cries,
to hover over and nestle us, to deliver
us into the greatest, most enduring
peace, all the way past the bother of
beyond the finework of frailty,
the mishmash house of the coming & going,
creation’s fringes,
the eddies and curlicues

from Poetry Chaitanya

/Photo by jenny downing /