What we know of other people
Is only our memory of the moments
During which we knew them. And they have changed since then.
To pretend that they and we are the same
Is a useful and convenient social convention
Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember
That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.
the tiny line between fantasy and reality keeps getting redrawnandredrawnandredrawn
In the way that the most of the wind
Happens where there are trees,
Most of the world is centered
Often where the wind has gathered
The trees together and together,
One tree will take
Another in her arms and hold.
Their branches that are grinding
Madly together and together,
It is no real fire.
They are breaking each other.
Often I think I should be like
The single tree, going nowhere,
Since my own arm could not and would not
Break the other. Yet by my broken bones
I tell new weather.
The Importance of Being Earnest, Oscar Wilde
Traditional costumes have virtually disappeared, but until the 1950s, this kind of attire was very common across Europe. From the color and cut you could conclude whether a woman was married, how old she was, which family she came from, and how wealthy they were.
In 2008, Eric Schütt started looking for women who still wear traditional clothes for his photography project called Burenkleider: Burska Drasta, or Traditional Costumes of Peasant Women in Germany and Alsace. The women in these photos are never seen without their traditional costumes. They wear their costumes in the house and outside. In many cases, they are the last ones in their village wearing the clothes with their original purpose, and the other villagers look at them like as if they’re flamboyant, exotic birds. Some of these women have died by now—Eric’s photographs are the last document of this disappearing phenomenon.
i call this one desktop
Meanwhile on Craigslist…