The world’s largest voodoo market
If you’ve ever wanted monkey heads, skulls, dead birds, crocodiles, skins, or any dead animal or voodoo equipment, the Akodessawa Fetish Market in Togo is the place to go.
I remember seeing these hues over ice-capped mountains as the sun rose.
(Source: expressions-of-nature)
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Tokyo, April 2017
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A mother and her baby would wear gas masks during gas preparation tests during WWII. For the device to work, an adult had to continually push the manual air pump.
Crystallized coyote skull. Here is the source.
35mm, 29 January 2017
(Source: yuras)
(Source: niericsson)
it’s been about a year and a half but sometimes i catch myself thinking about how surreal being with ariff is. like a few days ago when i was walking close next to him staring at his profile and thinking about how i haven’t seen him with this much facial hair in a long time (what with reservist and job interviews over the last couple of months). i was so close i could smell his shampoo and see stray hairs on his cheek. this morning i woke up earlier than he did, my head over his stretched arm and turned towards him. his soft unwaxed hair over his eyes and his lips slightly parted leaving a tiny drool stain on my pillow (ugh……..). it’s things like these that 1.5 years ago i’d never thought i’d ever experience when i went to almost all of his shows for about two years not because i thought i had a chance or whatever (i never thought i did) but i genuinely was a big fan of his music and all throughout that time we’ve never spoken to each other save for a few passing smiles and i remember giving him a small wave at deafheaven in may 2014 when paris came out for a smoke break before their set. i thought he was so talented and i remember listening to his music in a hotel room in taiwan. the first time we talked however, we ran into each other on a flight of stairs and i asked him a question and i got a soft three-word answer along before he trudged off which left me perplexed and frankly quite annoyed because he maintained zero eye contact. i never really thought much of that encounter but somehow it’s ingrained.
going from that- me being mystified from afar by this person’s obscurity and magical musical abilities and stage presence while a sizeable crowd watches- to where we are now. i think about this quite a lot. like when i’m at his family gatherings talking to his mum while he attends to his baby nephew or when he’s at lunch making drinks with my dad. it’s almost hypnagogic, like nothing i’d expect could happen. he pulls me in close on escalators if i’m one step above him and he nestles my head in his neck when we go to sleep and some mornings i’d wake up to him holding my hand while asleep. how?? would?? i?? ever?? have seen this coming?? he loves so hard and never fails to show and remind me that he does. i think the chances of it being anyone else was pretty damn high because ariff meets plenty of people doing music but it’s not. it’s me. i get to create and experience and share things with him both little, insignificant day-to-day things and grand, one-off encounters alike. he often says how lucky he is but i think that makes both of us doesn’t it.
(Source: myblackwhitedreams)
