A seemingly normal man just stopped me and proclaimed that, judging by the way I was handling my phone, I must be a creative person. He said I obviously do creative work for a living. I told him he was correct. He told me I that currently, I am only utilizing 50% of my creativity. I told him I wasn’t sure I agreed. He examined my right hand, and told me that he was speaking the truth. Then, he told me to part my hair from left to right and be sure not to cover my forehead for the next week. Then he walked away.
Weird.
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros: Here
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“Don’t aim at success—the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one’s dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on and carry it out to the best of your knowledge. Then you will live to see that in the long run success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think of it.” — Viktor Frankl
Obviously receiving this postcard just made my day. (Taken with instagram)
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“Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.” — Mark Twain
“Do you never worry about anything?”
“I have a secret defence, Mr. Wormold. I am interested in life.”
“So am I, but…”
“You are interested in a person, not in life, and people die or leave us — I’m sorry; I wasn’t referring to your wife. But if you are interested in life it never lets you down. I am interested in the blueness of the cheese. You don’t do crosswords, do you, Mr. Wormold? I do, and they are like people: one reaches an end. I can finish any crossword within an hour, but I have a discovery concerned with the blueness of cheese that will never come to a conclusion — although of course one dreams that perhaps a time might come… One day I must show you my laboratory.”
“I must be going, Hasselbacher.”
“You should dream more, Mr. Wormold. Reality in our century is not something to be faced.”
Homemade nutella to end the weekend.
“Things are pretty… but until they speak to the imagination, not yet beautiful” — RW Emerson
“Today original Mason jars are prized collectibles. There are lots of them, which, the historian Andrew F. Smith points out, ‘is a testament to the number of Mason jars that were in fact used.’ In contemporary America, Mason jars are as likely to hold pencils as apricot jam. But home canning has gained traction among a certain class of urban locavores. ‘It’s kind of for the foodies,’ Smith says.”
interesting article, “Who Made That Mason Jar?”, via NYT
(via jayparkinsonmd)