Tuesday 27 November 2012
Monday 26 November 2012
Monday 19 November 2012
Sunday 18 November 2012
Tuesday 13 November 2012
Another artist I should mention: Naomi Hermitage
Have a goosey gander at her work on facebook: www.facebook.com/nillustration
Om Pom used to draw our favourite customers!
Ed Fairburn
'An original and iconic Rubik’s Cube, covered in trimmed British postage stamps (six different colours to correspond with the six faces), with a delivery address written across the cube. It was a problem trying to find a postbox that would accommodate this, but I struck gold on Albany Road. This was a more conceptual piece of postal art - it was about anonymously presenting a challenge to the Royal
Mail, seeing if they would solve a jumbled puzzle in order to make the delivery. To my surprise, they solved it through trial and error, and delivered it with a knock on the door.
(I have a long-standing habit of abusing the postal system, ever since I glued a stamp to a slice of toast and turned it into a mailable postcard)'
Ed Fairburn
http://edfairburn.com/
I love this idea so much.
Monday 12 November 2012
Sunday 11 November 2012
Truck Spills
I am seriously entertained by this website.
Who knew the contents of trucks could hold my attention for so long!
www.truckspills.com
Who knew the contents of trucks could hold my attention for so long!
www.truckspills.com
Least We Forget
This is why I love poetry.
And this is why it should be read out- goosebumps.
This is my favourite WW1 poem:
Wilfred Owen
Dulce et Decorum est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! — An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime. —
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime. —
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, —
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, —
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
THE SOLDIER
'If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven'
Rupert Brooke
Beautiful
I'm having one of those 'Isn't the world a beautiful place' sort of days
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/A5wxfx/:R6YocxZY:OHbk.TJj/rewalls.com/pic/201105/1366x768/reWalls.com-32446.jpg/
Kings of Convenience
Every day there's a boy in the mirror asking me...
What are you doing here?
Finding all my previous motives
Growing increasingly unclear.
Friday 9 November 2012
Wednesday 7 November 2012
Dear Santa....
Please can I have this bag for christmas with my initials embossed on it... the 13" one... pretty please with a cherry on top???
http://www.cambridgesatchel.co.uk/buy/the-downing/
Tuesday 6 November 2012
Brilliant Costumes.
Ginger Bread Man
One night stand
The Freudian Slip
French Kiss
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2ErnU8/:1BuQW4PE_:G9wzt2AI/www.buzzfeed.com/peggy/21-best-worst-halloween-pun-costumes/
One night stand
The Freudian Slip
French Kiss
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2ErnU8/:1BuQW4PE_:G9wzt2AI/www.buzzfeed.com/peggy/21-best-worst-halloween-pun-costumes/
A priest offered a Nun a lift. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg.
The nun said, "Father, remember Psalm 129?"
The priest removed his hand. But, changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, "Father, remember Psalm 129?" The priest apologized "Sorry sister but the flesh is weak."
Arriving at the convent, the nun sighed heavily and went on her way.
On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, "Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory."
Moral of the story:
If you are not well informed in your job, opportunities for advancement will pass right by you.
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2fJzxB/:1c!tLZx23:KBuB-fAG/www.yesemails.com/text/managementcourse/
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