opens her mouth, birds fly out
theme
blastedheath:

Paul Gauguin (French, 1848-1903), Les Mas, environs d’Arles [Farmhouse near Arles], 1888. Oil on canvas, 73 x 92 cm.

blastedheath:

Paul Gauguin (French, 1848-1903), Les Mas, environs d’Arles [Farmhouse near Arles], 1888. Oil on canvas, 73 x 92 cm.

wonderingaboutitall:

The House In Giverny - Frederick Carl Frieseke

wonderingaboutitall:

The House In Giverny - Frederick Carl Frieseke

blastedheath:

Claude Monet (French, 1840-1926), Sous les peupliers [Under the poplars] , 1887. Oil on canvas, 73 x 92 cm.

blastedheath:

Claude Monet (French, 1840-1926), Sous les peupliers [Under the poplars] , 1887. Oil on canvas, 73 x 92 cm.

laclybug:

when pretty girl calls u pretty: br….br o..

666darko:

"At the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other."
Pacific Rim (2013) dir. Guillermo del Toro

666darko:

"At the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other."

Pacific Rim (2013) dir. Guillermo del Toro

yagazieemezi:

Art Expressions: Ify Chiejina

"My mother passed away recently in February of 2014. The state of my own self-awareness and confidence before my mother’s death was in uninterrupted flux. After she died, those changes pushed me to seek stability. I have to be responsible for nurturing and taking care of my whole self. I have to be responsible for asking for help when I am in need. My mother was always cognitive of the fact that I had a strong interest in the arts, and thankfully she did bless my decision to be an artist, but her support came through my display of perseverance. She wasn’t the biggest advocate in me pursuing visual art professionally. She feared that I would struggle more than my counterparts pursuing careers in medicine or law. But essentially everybody struggles in an infinite number of ways. To me, being an artist means being your own superhero." - Ify

See more

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

Dedicated to the Cultural Preservation of the African Aesthetic

living-planet:

Elderberry Blossoms (Sambucus nigra) [OC] [3648 x 2746]http://living-planet.tumblr.com/

living-planet:

Elderberry Blossoms (Sambucus nigra) [OC] [3648 x 2746]
http://living-planet.tumblr.com/

radicalvulnerability:

I was going to die, sooner or later, whether or not I had even spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silences will not protect you…. What are the words you do not yet have? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language. I began to ask each time: “What’s the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?” …Our speaking out will irritate some people, get us called bitchy or hypersensitive and disrupt some dinner parties. And then our speaking out will permit other women to speak, until laws are changed and lives are saved and the world is altered forever. Next time, ask: What’s the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end. And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.

— Audre Lorde 

"Kudzu (Japanese Arrowroot) is extremely invasive in the United States, Canada, and now Australia.

What is odd about this, however, is that kudzu is edible, an excellent livestock feed, medicinal, contains starch, fixes nitrogen into the soil, can be used to make fibre (ko-hemp), as well as ethanol.

While monocrops of maize are being grown for 4 out of 7 of these potential uses, an invasive plant that grows so fast you can see it with the naked eye is being sprayed with herbicides.

In light of this, I propose a novel solution to the elimination of useful invasive species: harvest them."

”i paint myself because i am so often alone”

birdasaurus:

Astro Coffee - Kinfolk

birdasaurus:

Astro Coffee - Kinfolk

"

I asked seven anthropologists, archaeologists, and historians if they would rather have been a typical Indian or a typical European in 1491. None was delighted by the question, because it required judging the past by the standards of today—a fallacy disparaged as “presentism” by social scientists. But every one chose to be an Indian. Some early colonists gave the same answer. Horrifying the leaders of Jamestown and Plymouth, scores of English ran off to live with the Indians. My ancestor shared their desire, which is what led to the trumped-up murder charges against him—or that’s what my grandfather told me, anyway.

As for the Indians, evidence suggests that they often viewed Europeans with disdain. The Hurons, a chagrined missionary reported, thought the French possessed “little intelligence in comparison to themselves.” Europeans, Indians said, were physically weak, sexually untrustworthy, atrociously ugly, and just plain dirty. (Spaniards, who seldom if ever bathed, were amazed by the Aztec desire for personal cleanliness.) A Jesuit reported that the “Savages” were disgusted by handkerchiefs: “They say, we place what is unclean in a fine white piece of linen, and put it away in our pockets as something very precious, while they throw it upon the ground.” The Micmac scoffed at the notion of French superiority. If Christian civilization was so wonderful, why were its inhabitants leaving?

Like people everywhere, Indians survived by cleverly exploiting their environment. Europeans tended to manage land by breaking it into fragments for farmers and herders. Indians often worked on such a grand scale that the scope of their ambition can be hard to grasp. They created small plots, as Europeans did (about 1.5 million acres of terraces still exist in the Peruvian Andes), but they also reshaped entire landscapes to suit their purposes. A principal tool was fire, used to keep down underbrush and create the open, grassy conditions favorable for game. Rather than domesticating animals for meat, Indians retooled whole ecosystems to grow bumper crops of elk, deer, and bison. The first white settlers in Ohio found forests as open as English parks—they could drive carriages through the woods. Along the Hudson River the annual fall burning lit up the banks for miles on end; so flashy was the show that the Dutch in New Amsterdam boated upriver to goggle at the blaze like children at fireworks. In North America, Indian torches had their biggest impact on the Midwestern prairie, much or most of which was created and maintained by fire. Millennia of exuberant burning shaped the plains into vast buffalo farms. When Indian societies disintegrated, forest invaded savannah in Wisconsin, Illinois, Kansas, Nebraska, and the Texas Hill Country. Is it possible that the Indians changed the Americas more than the invading Europeans did? “The answer is probably yes for most regions for the next 250 years or so” after Columbus, William Denevan wrote, “and for some regions right up to the present time.”

"

Quoted from the essay "1941" written by Charles C. Mann, about the major impact that Native Americans had on the Americas (ecologically and culturally) before white people invaded, bringing their diseases and shoving Christianity down the Indians’ throats and murdering them and banning their cultures.

Check out the whole piece (which is rather long). (P.S thanks to @cazalis for sending me this great link)

another excerpt:

Human history, in Crosby’s interpretation, is marked by two world-altering centers of invention: the Middle East and central Mexico, where Indian groups independently created nearly all of the Neolithic innovations, writing included. The Neolithic Revolution began in the Middle East about 10,000 years ago. In the next few millennia humankind invented the wheel, the metal tool, and agriculture. The Sumerians eventually put these inventions together, added writing, and became the world’s first civilization. Afterward Sumeria’s heirs in Europe and Asia frantically copied one another’s happiest discoveries; innovations ricocheted from one corner of Eurasia to another, stimulating technological progress. Native Americans, who had crossed to Alaska before Sumeria, missed out on the bounty. “They had to do everything on their own,” Crosby says. Remarkably, they succeeded.

When Columbus appeared in the Caribbean, the descendants of the world’s two Neolithic civilizations collided, with overwhelming consequences for both. American Neolithic development occurred later than that of the Middle East, possibly because the Indians needed more time to build up the requisite population density. Without beasts of burden they could not capitalize on the wheel (for individual workers on uneven terrain skids are nearly as effective as carts for hauling), and they never developed steel. But in agriculture they handily outstripped the children of Sumeria. Every tomato in Italy, every potato in Ireland, and every hot pepper in Thailand came from this hemisphere. Worldwide, more than half the crops grown today were initially developed in the Americas.

Maize, as corn is called in the rest of the world, was a triumph with global implications. Indians developed an extraordinary number of maize varieties for different growing conditions, which meant that the crop could and did spread throughout the planet. Central and Southern Europeans became particularly dependent on it; maize was the staple of Serbia, Romania, and Moldavia by the nineteenth century. Indian crops dramatically reduced hunger, Crosby says, which led to an Old World population boom.

Along with peanuts and manioc, maize came to Africa and transformed agriculture there, too. “The probability is that the population of Africa was greatly increased because of maize and other American Indian crops,” Crosby says. “Those extra people helped make the slave trade possible.” Maize conquered Africa at the time when introduced diseases were leveling Indian societies. The Spanish, the Portuguese, and the British were alarmed by the death rate among Indians, because they wanted to exploit them as workers. Faced with a labor shortage, the Europeans turned their eyes to Africa. The continent’s quarrelsome societies helped slave traders to siphon off millions of people. The maize-fed population boom, Crosby believes, let the awful trade continue without pumping the well dry.

Back home in the Americas, Indian agriculture long sustained some of the world’s largest cities. The Aztec capital of Tenochtitlán dazzled Hernán Cortés in 1519; it was bigger than Paris, Europe’s greatest metropolis. The Spaniards gawped like hayseeds at the wide streets, ornately carved buildings, and markets bright with goods from hundreds of miles away. They had never before seen a city with botanical gardens, for the excellent reason that none existed in Europe. The same novelty attended the force of a thousand men that kept the crowded streets immaculate. (Streets that weren’t ankle-deep in sewage! The conquistadors had never heard of such a thing.) Central America was not the only locus of prosperity. Thousands of miles north, John Smith, of Pocahontas fame, visited Massachusetts in 1614, before it was emptied by disease, and declared that the land was “so planted with Gardens and Corne fields, and so well inhabited with a goodly, strong and well proportioned people … [that] I would rather live here than any where.”

and another excerpt:

In as yet unpublished research the archaeologists Eduardo Neves, of the University of São Paulo; Michael Heckenberger, of the University of Florida; and their colleagues examined terra preta in the upper Xingu, a huge southern tributary of the Amazon. Not all Xingu cultures left behind this living earth, they discovered. But the ones that did generated it rapidly—suggesting to Woods that terra preta was created deliberately. In a process reminiscent of dropping microorganism-rich starter into plain dough to create sourdough bread, Amazonian peoples, he believes, inoculated bad soil with a transforming bacterial charge. Not every group of Indians there did this, but quite a few did, and over an extended period of time.

When Woods told me this, I was so amazed that I almost dropped the phone. I ceased to be articulate for a moment and said things like “wow” and “gosh.” Woods chuckled at my reaction, probably because he understood what was passing through my mind. Faced with an ecological problem, I was thinking, the Indians fixed it. They were in the process of terraforming the Amazon when Columbus showed up and ruined everything.

(via badass-bharat-deafmuslim-artista)

This barely even touches on some of the differences in agriculture and forestry practices. Where I’m from, if you don’t have people managing the undergrowth with controlled burns, etc., you basically get temperate jungle. Combine that with widespread settler deforestation in the past for timber so it’s mostly secondary growth forest, and you’ve got a difficult to use mess, lower biodiversity because some things just get choked out and other things need periodic burning to germinate, and a lot of forest fires whenever it gets dry wherever people have not been able to continue traditional forest management.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appalachian_mixed_mesophytic_forests

I was also surprised at the big deal made out of the tierra prieta “discovery”, though I probably should not have been. There are still a lot of common assumptions going that indigenous people must have been just plain stupid because they were not doing things in exactly the same ways as invading Europeans—and were obviously so inferior in general. But, people also used similar practices elsewhere to enrich soil. Where I’m from, some people still haul rich cove humus (along with ashes) to improve garden soil. I have helped my Nana with that.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cove_(Appalachian_Mountains)

In that case, you get particularly rich soil from sometimes meters-deep layers of leaf mold collecting over the years/centuries, no doubt with its own distinctive microorganism communities. It doesn’t just add more organic material to areas of clay soil, but AFAICT acts very similarly to the tierra prieta. And I am sure that’s not the only area in North America where people figured out some similar ways of enriching soil. (Besides using river bottoms full of rich silt and built-in irrigation for growing staple crops, for incredible yields. And so forth.)

Because they were not stupid.

(via clatterbane)

vaultt-tec:

Let's Go Sunning 
"You are not the heaviness
sitting inside of you.
You are not the battlefield
where the bodies fall,
and you are not the sound of cannons
breaking the sky open.
You are what happens after the war.

The surviving.

The healing.

The rebuilding."
– Y.Z, for the bad nights (via the-healing-nest)