If you're not 'optically challenged' like myself, it's likely that sound is just one of those things you don't necessarily think about very often.
Consider however, the sound of the cars passing outside, the birds in the trees, the engine on your bus, car or train to work.
AS well as what your eyes tell you, there's an absolutely fascinating world to be found with the help of your ears, too.
The next time you're on a train, in the back of a cab or perhaps in a cafe drinking your beverage of choice, try closing your eyes and considering whether you can tell what's going on around you simply by the noises in your environment.
Is someone in loud shoes walking toward you and pulling out a chair at the next table?
Is the sound of the person who just got on the train one of someone who's happy, or just trying to get to work?
Sound-listening can be just as interesting as people-watching.
Chronic fear and debilitating panic turn good people into bad ones. We cannot treat others as we wish to be treated ourselves when we insist that they believe and act exactly as we do.
The first stuff I screen printed was onto linen (yes I don't know why I made things extra hard for myself). We made lampshades, cushions and tea towels.
And the first "range" I made (because I thought I had to make ranges) was called Cover Story. It was a design featuring trees, blowing leaves and a badger.
Here's a lampshade I printed in three colours as part of the Cover Story range.
If you're not 'optically challenged' like myself, it's likely that sound is just one of those things you don't necessarily think about very often.
Consider however, the sound of the cars passing outside, the birds in the trees, the engine on your bus, car or train to work.
AS well as what your eyes tell you, there's an absolutely fascinating world to be found with the help of your ears, too.
The next time you're on a train, in the back of a cab or perhaps in a cafe drinking your beverage of choice, try closing your eyes and considering whether you can tell what's going on around you simply by the noises in your environment.
Is someone in loud shoes walking toward you and pulling out a chair at the next table?
Is the sound of the person who just got on the train one of someone who's happy, or just trying to get to work?
Sound-listening can be just as interesting as people-watching.
In any case, here's a little story I made about sound, and how I personally perceive it on a daily basis.
Greetings, myth lovers! Join us next #Monday for our theme BEACHES & SHORES 🏝
Which myths are about or take place at the beach or shore? Tell us the #story in your toot and use the hashtag #MythologyMonday for boosts!
Your host @aimeemaroux is looking forward to your toots with summery beach #stories 😎
Era un sabato pomeriggio come tanti quello di 32 anni fa, il 23 maggio del 1992.
Io non vivevo più a casa con i miei genitori e di solito il sabato andavo sempre a trovarli e, insieme a loro, ci recavamo a casa di mia nonna materna che abitava al piano di sopra.
Era un modo per passare dei momenti lieti, si cenava tutti insieme, una tradizione a cui tenevamo per mantenere ancora più saldo l’affetto familiare.
La nonna nella sua cucina aveva sempre un piccolo televisore acceso, le piaceva guardare un po' di tutto mentre si dedicava a cucinare, le piaceva, per lei era un momento di ritrovo familiare.
Ma quel sabato pomeriggio, un tragico evento, avrebbe trasformato quei momenti lieti in una sensazione di amarezza e di sconforto.
Ad un certo punto, le trasmissioni TV che stavano andando in onda, furono interrotte per dar spazio ad un’edizione straordinaria del telegiornale, nella quale venne annunciato il terribile e vile attentato di stampo terroristico-mafioso, nel tratto di autostrada A29 in prossimità dello svincolo di Capaci, attentato nel quale persero la vita i giudici Giovanni Falcone e Francesca Morvillo, moglie del magistrato, e tre dei cinque uomini della scorta Vito Schifani, Rocco Dicillo e Antonio Montinaro.
Mia madre, donna di una sensibilità fuori dal comune, che si metteva a piangere anche quando apprendeva in tv la morte di un attore o di un attrice, appresa la notizia dell’attentato scoppiò a piangere, cercai di consolarla con un abbraccio.
In quel momento tutto sembrava perduto, sconforto e rabbia era in ogni cittadino palermitano e ancora non potevamo immaginare quello che sarebbe successo da lì a un paio di mesi dopo, il 19 luglio 1992, dove ancora un atroce attentato di stampo mafioso avrebbe ucciso il giudice Paolo Borsellino e gli uomini e una donna della sua scorta.
Proprio il giudice Paolo Borsellino, dopo la morte del suo amico Giovanni, in un suo discorso disse:
“CHI HA PAURA MUORE OGNI GIORNO. CHI NON HA PAURA, MUORE UNA VOLTA SOLA”.
Lo scorso anno ho realizzato un piccolo video, che ripropongo, dedicandolo a Giovanni, Francesca, Vito, Rocco ed Antonio.
Continuing with the Sadler's Lectures podcast series on Kafka's story The Metamorphosis, here's an episode on arguably the second most-important character in the story, Grete Samsa, Gregor's sister
This weekend I went to a band trip with my 12 year old as a chaperone. It started with band performances, ended with them (and me) at an amusement park all day.
I met a bunch of Middle Schoolers who were friends / acquaintances with my daughter. They referred to me as "cool," "legendary," "icon," and one said I was "an icon on par with Madonna." But...but why?
I think about that day and all I can think is that I'm an adult, a parent who was willing to engage with these kids. I talked with them about music, their hobbies, anime, video games, whatever they wanted to talk about. I listened and interacted. Apparently, that's enough to make me an icon.
It feels very basic. But, the fact that just this level of interaction felt out of the norm for them from their friend's parents that it made them call me an icon, I feel that says more about the other adults in their lives than it does about my awesomeness.
"How could she leave the Central Hearth without taking her things with her? She said she would get them before leaving."
"She probably never took her things with her because she may have never left the Central Hearth."
Exploring #abandonedplaces is a chance to take a brief step into the past, to glimpse scenes that are frozen in time.
This #abandonedhouse is a relic of a bygone era, untouched and forgotten. It had been abandoned for years, and is filled with mementos of a life once lived.
Inside are many personal belongings, set against 1970s wallpaper and décor.
On a more serious front, the #story has produced new sightings from across #England. If you think you have seen one, do get in contact with me. We are already changing the distribution #map and chronology of this #species. #CitizenScience#Ecology#ClimateChange
Matt and his family have remained cautious about COVID‐19 and have become used to being outsiders.
In the third in a series of personal perspectives, the John Snow Project talks to Matt Young*, a father of three whose family still takes COVID-19 seriously.
A #solarpunk#story about cyber- #archeology , #hacking old databases of fallen #bigPharma giants. A race against time to find treatments to a new pandemic which might have been already discovered, but were put aside as not profitable enough. Doctors, hackers, bioengineers braving through old corporate-speak like an ancient language to understand: what happened to the cure?
There's nothing like losing yourself in a good book -- a GOOD book, one well written with an interesting story that inspires you to think, wonder, imagine, and dream.
If you’re a @medium subscriber, consider dropping by and following my publication. You don’t have to subscribe to emails or anything, at least not just yet. Just click follow. Help get my numbers up.
It’s a daily column in the model of the classic newspaper columns of old about whatever crosses my mind each day. It’s usually pretty entertaining.