panopticongallery:

Today we are celebrating the birth of photographer Philippe Halsman!

panopticongallery:

Today we are celebrating the birth of photographer Philippe Halsman!

@2 weeks ago with 15 notes

I live for art. I’m just a simple girl with a big camera to match a big heart.

@2 weeks ago with 1 note

One of Shia’s projects. Love. 

@2 weeks ago
#rich+hil 
whoishans:

So if Ab-Soul thought my crew member Mimi’s video was dope enough to shout her out… I think it should be good enough for you to watch it. Check it out! (Empathy - Mona Lee) #absoul #tde #empathy #soul #choreography #dance #video #youtube

aaaaaaaaaaaaaye my nigga

whoishans:

So if Ab-Soul thought my crew member Mimi’s video was dope enough to shout her out… I think it should be good enough for you to watch it. Check it out! (Empathy - Mona Lee) #absoul #tde #empathy #soul #choreography #dance #video #youtube

aaaaaaaaaaaaaye my nigga

@3 weeks ago with 3 notes
my favorite guy. we share the same birthday. =) 

my favorite guy. we share the same birthday. =) 

(Source: operayagidenmetalci)

@3 weeks ago with 80 notes
@3 weeks ago with 3 notes

Vegipacolypse: Vegan Friendly Thai Lettuce Wraps 

pescky-tarian:

image

Ingredients:
  • 1 head fresh iceberg lettuce (this type works best for this recipe)
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 thumb-size piece galangal (or ginger), grated
  • 1 red chili, minced, OR 1/4 to 1/2 tsp. chili flakes
  • 2 shallots, sliced finely
  • 1/2 cup firm tofu, cut into “matchsticks” OR 1/2…

My next culinary project! I love Thai. 

(Source: thaifood.about.com)

@3 weeks ago with 9 notes
nevver:

Where is my mind?
@3 weeks ago with 1699 notes
@2 weeks ago with 5 notes



you-are-another-me:

There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

you-are-another-me:

There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.


And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.



In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.



The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

(Source: thegodmolecule, via freewhenthesunshinesonme)

@2 weeks ago with 34186 notes
@2 weeks ago with 17995 notes
thank you @souloho3! 🙈

thank you @souloho3! 🙈

@3 weeks ago with 2 notes
For the hoes… My niggas.Flooridians at Battle 4 the Cure about a month ago. Love yall.

For the hoes… My niggas.
Flooridians at Battle 4 the Cure about a month ago. 
Love yall.

@3 weeks ago with 1 note

thisislove:

Pickled! by Flying Lotus

@3 weeks ago with 9 note and 29 play
cedblk:

Currently…

cedblk:

Currently…

@3 weeks ago with 4 notes