–Surprised by Ferdinand Fagerlin
Art
Cartesian
Whatโs your dream car if money isnโt a concern?
1963 Chevrolet Corvette Split Window Coupe 4-Speed.
I mean, I could afford one now. But I have no desire to maintain and insure a car that old. It’d be a lot of money, work, and time.
That’s probably the most beautiful mass-production American car ever made, though.
Fabricated
"Women cannot be useful to the progress of the artsโ – declared the French Academy, in its ban.
But.. Adรฉlaรฏde Labille-Guiard was admitted in 1783 patronised by the King, strategically pivoted to the Republic, & also advocated for women's inclusion.
In this "Self-Portrait withโฆ pic.twitter.com/T0Wd1vxhN4
— Alice Evans (@_alice_evans) November 30, 2025
Lord, look at the detail on that satin. I cannot even begin to imagine how to do that. Lady had skill.
Apropos
The quest to offend no one leads to art that elevates and inspires no one.
Appropriate everything, says what’s true, look into the darkness, cast aspersions and dent your helmet bashing through to the truth. One should not aim to offend, but excising anything with power and beauty is what the goal of removing all possibility of the offensive ineluctably leads toward.
All good art is offensive in the original Latin sense: it hits you, it moves you, it strikes against you. Otherwise, it’s worthless.
Broid
Rainbow Disco
This 15 in hand embroidery piece took over a year to complete. Mostly satin stitch and just over 160 individual colors. Sheโs my pride and joy ๐ชฉ
#Januarty #embroidery #satinstitch #skytok— Blustery Morning (@blusterymorning.bsky.social) January 20, 2025 at 6:35 AM
WTF that’s the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
I Need One B-1
BA BONE footage sent to me by a friend. pic.twitter.com/TsiTHp0gFt
— Combat Learjet (@Combat_learjet) October 31, 2024
Those B-1s are such beautiful aircraft. I saw one flying around here last year and I still talk about it sometimes.
Free Free Verse
There are seven tales
And seven wonders
A kingdom alone
And a sound of thunder
Nothing destroyed is wholly gone
And nothing broken
Can’t be split further asunder
There’s a dreaming in the hills
An echo long ringing
And through the valley it spills
Like a drowned choir’s singing
Each time on stopping in this sunlit place
I feel the darkness bleeding in from space







