Kanye West launched his new track, "New Slaves," by projecting it on buildings across the world last night
(Source: rollingstone)
A British history TV channel named Yesterday worked with artists to put together modern-day portraits of famous historical figures.
From top to bottom, Shakespeare, Queen Elizabeth I, King Henry VIII, and Marie Antoinette.
Doesn’t Shakespeare look like he’d totes be a photographer?
Historical Figures & What They’d Look Like Today
Images via Yesterday; via Kottke, @DavidGrann
npr:
You may have seen The Great Gatsby over the weekend, but wait until you see The Great Catsby.
Of course. — tanya b.
Look at the Birds.
It’s a bittersweet feeling knowing that some of my dearest friends are about to graduate. But what makes it so sweet is that I can see God already working in their future.
I always struggle with worrying about tomorrow and God has been working Matthew 6:26 in my heart.
But when I see my friends scoring job interviews for great companies, getting into top graduate school programs, going on a mission trip, or even a rad internship…I can’t help but to think God is telling me its going to be ok.
I am so excited for my friends future and for once in my life, I am at peace with what my future will hold.
To my friends who are about to graduate, know that I am praying for you, that I love you very much and that God has some incredible plans for you.
:)
Inspired
Sorry for my lack in posts lately. But guys. It’s here. The magazine has been created.“Inspired” is founded upon the art of doing good. We want to bring back to life the concept of treating others the way you would like to be treated. This is an outlet of encouragement to speak through the words and visuals we provide. This is a journey of the struggles of being a woman in today’s society.”-<3-
Check out my photography here. The “Inspired” team did a wonderful job putting it all together.
"
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
"- Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be. (via awelltraveledwoman)
(Source: oliviacirce, via marcyowensis)
