“Alcohol, discovered by Prohibition agents during a raid on an illegal distillery, pours out of upper windows of three-story storefront in Detroit during Prohibition, 1929” (Retronaut)
(via lostsplendor)
“Alcohol, discovered by Prohibition agents during a raid on an illegal distillery, pours out of upper windows of three-story storefront in Detroit during Prohibition, 1929” (Retronaut)
(via lostsplendor)

The great rite of Spring Equinox…
Rossana Taormina, Identità #1, 2011 (filo di cotone su documento cartaceo, cm 7 x 10).
contact: rossana.taormina@gmail.com
(Source: , via olupi-reblogs)

-Blake_ Li*something. Can’t read the rest of the signature.
(via bloodyxcreature)

Ron Terada. Stay Away from Lonely Places, 2005. Installation view, IKON, Birmingham, 2006.
Courtesy Catriona Jeffries, Vancouver
Ryan Lake
[ Elisabeth Stienstra ]
This is the world that man made.
These are the ills that plagued
The world that man made.
This is the doctor prescribing the pills
That treated the ills that plagued
The world that man made.
These are the plants and labs and mills
That manufactured all the pills the doctor
Gave to treat the ills that plagued
The world that man made.
This is the banker with tellers and tills
That backed the plants and labs and mills
That manufactured all the pills the doctor
Gave to treat the ills that plagued
The world that man made.
This is the general with trumpets and trills
Who made the war that saved the bank that
Backed the plants that manufactured all the pills
The doctor gave to treat the ills that plagued
The world that man made.
Here is the mother all forlorn
Whose one and only child was born
To die in the war the general made to save
The bank that backed the plants that made
The pills the doctor gave to treat the ills
That plagued the world that man made.
This is the angel that blew his horn
To comfort the mother all forlorn
And fired the general and closed the banks
And shut the mills and scattered the pills,
Retired the doctor and cured the ills
And ended the world that man made.
Alren Reily Wilson
"I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to join Unto the thought before, But sequence raveled out of reach Like balls upon a floor." - Emily Dickinson.