I love love, that's why his drawings often include figures, animals and even flowers hugging and kissing. Doesn't it feel good to be loved? Hot-dang, I know so - so my drawings express my love for love, especially for the ones we love.
In my head, I'm still that guy from the photo. Still strong, still capable, still got it. Then I catch my reflection in a store window and think, who's that old guy? The disconnect is wild. I'll go to lift something heavy and my brain says 'no problem,' but my shoulder reminds me about those thirty years of overhead work.
This includes celebrating all who authentically embrace themselves. I create unapologetic depictions of natural ancestral features, self-expression and sexuality. I love capturing togetherness, joy, movement, dance, play, love - anything that gives release. I see this all as a form of resistance.
I had always associated scrapbooking with grandmas and bored children, so, imagine my surprise when as a twentysomething with a Big Girl Job I found myself enamoured of printing, cutting, and sticking random bits and bobs into a book. If, like me, you've racked up a disconcerting amount of screen time, you may have stumbled across a multitude of craft-inspired social media posts made primarily by young women. Described as junk journalling, the hobby is distinguishable by an affinity with collecting and storing physical mementoes, such as tickets, receipts, packaging and Polaroids.
The Stasi, the secret police, were legendary for their data files. Their work was based on instilling fear, and they induced stunningly amazing numbers of East Germans into informing on their neighbors. Something along the lines of 1 in 6 East Germans were informants, whether out of fear or out of approval of what the East German government was doing.
We photograph people obsessively, but we rarely capture the everyday spaces where life actually happens. And when those spaces disappear, something profound goes with them. The furniture was never just furniture—it was the stage where decades of family life played out. Every scratch, stain, and worn patch told a story.
The Stasi, the secret police, were legendary for their data files. Their work was based on instilling fear, and they induced stunningly amazing numbers of East Germans into informing on their neighbors. Something along the lines of 1 in 6 East Germans were informants, whether out of fear or out of approval of what the East German government was doing.
I recently gained a new obsession, and I'm ready to share it with the world: finding and analyzing rare vintage images. A picture speaks a thousand words, and these photographs tell us more about history than a textbook chapter ever could. So even if you think history is boring, I'm well-equipped to change your mind, and give you some delicious food for your brain to chew on today.
It's a doll, Ineke Schmelter, 71, often says as she walks down the street with a pram and someone peers fondly under the hood, asking: How old is the baby? Then she pulls back the blanket and reveals the doll. She points out the craftsmanship the little veins, the creases in the skin and explains that it can take as many as 20 layers of paint to achieve such a lifelike finish.
I was thinking about this the other day while scrolling through my phone on a Saturday morning, realizing I'd been working for two hours without even noticing. Growing up, my weekends looked nothing like this. There were unspoken rules, traditions that just happened without anyone scheduling them into a calendar app. These weren't grand gestures or expensive activities. They were simple rituals that, looking back now, built something most of us are desperately trying to recreate through therapy apps and self-help books: genuine connection.
The traditional museum experience, pausing in front of an object, and absorbing its history visually or by reading its description, has long shaped how collectors and others relate to cultural treasures. Yet, over the last few decades, digital technology has quietly rewritten many of those rules, changing not only how collections are exhibited but also how they are documented, preserved, and even inherited.
He was crying over a bowl of oatmeal he had to make himself. That moment changed how I see strength. How I see men. How I see myself. The weight of ordinary things. We think the big stuff is what breaks us. Death, divorce, losing a job. And yeah, those things hurt like hell. But sometimes it's the small stuff that cuts deepest.