(Source: goldist, via tiffalieh)

robertvaladez:

Luis Barragán,  (born March 9, 1902Guadalajara, Mex.—died Nov. 22, 1988Mexico City), Mexican engineer and architect whose serene and evocative houses, gardens, plazas, and fountains won him the Pritzker Prize in 1980.

Barragán, who was born into a wealthy family, grew up on a ranch near Guadalajara, Mex. He attended the Escuela Libre de Ingenieros (Free School of Engineers) there, taking a degree in civil engineering in 1923 and continuing his studies in architecture. In 1924 he began to travel, mostly in SpainFrance, Italy, and Greece. During this period of extensive travel, he first came across the published works of the German-born French landscape architect and illustrator Ferdinand Bac. When Barragán returned to Guadalajara, he began to work with his brother Juan José and completed his first project in 1927. Four years later he again went to Europe, where he met Bac and Le Corbusier, both of whom were to have a profound influence on his work.

On his return to Guadalajara, Barragán began to conceive new methods by which he could create what he called an “emotional architecture,” one that would encourage meditation and quietude. In 1935 he moved to Mexico City, where he began to apply the principles of Le Corbusier and the International school. With the evolution of his own ideas, his works began to take on the elements that characterize his mature period—natural siting, simple surfaces (slabs of concrete, immense walls of stucco), water features, the use of colour, and so on. From roughly 1943 to 1952 he developed El Pedregal (“The Lava”) as a subdivision of Mexico City, taking great care to incorporate intact its volcanic outcroppings and other natural formations.

Barragán’s output was not large. The majority of the structures he built are in Guadalajara and Mexico City. Among his notable works are the house he created around existing buildings at 20–22 Calle Ramírez in the Tacubaya district of Mexico City, where he lived beginning in the 1940s; numbers 10 and 12 Avenida de las Fuentes, among the first houses to be built in El Pedregal, and the Prieto López House there; the San Cristóbal Stables/Egerstrom House; the Gálvez House; and the Gilardi House. The Barragan Foundation (1996) is located near Basel, Switz.

(via fuckyeahmexico)

theparisreview:

“In the city our reflected selves are never far away.” Vijay Balakrishnan, from “Reflected.”

theparisreview:

“In the city our reflected selves are never far away.” Vijay Balakrishnan, from “Reflected.”

The Reading Girl, Theodore Roussel, 1886

The Reading Girl, Theodore Roussel, 1886

I look to the past a lot, to make sure I’m right where I’m supposed to be. Of course I miss things and people—or what is a heart for?Eliott Erwitt, Guanajuato, Mexico, 1957

I look to the past a lot, to make sure I’m right where I’m supposed to be. 
Of course I miss things and people—or what is a heart for?


Eliott Erwitt, Guanajuato, Mexico, 1957

(Source: the-night-picture-collector, via fuckyeahmexico)

Charm.

Charm.

Refinery29 launched new brand identity

wolffolinsblog:

Refinery29 was founded in 2005 with the idea of providing a highly curated, edited take on all things cool in New York City. Fast-forward 8 years later… Refinery29 has grown from local to global, from 4 to 120 (and counting), from start-up to one of the most visited lifestyle sites…

We’re getting real.

We’re getting real.

(Source: smithsonianlibraries)

(Source: mattdraper)

Have You Prayed?

by Li-Young Lee

When the wind
turns and asks, in my father’s voice,
Have you prayed?
I know three things. One:
I’m never finished answering to the dead.

Two: A man is four winds and three fires.
And the four winds are his father’s voice,
his mother’s voice …
Or maybe he’s seven winds and ten fires.
And the fires are seeing, hearing, touching,
dreaming, thinking …
Or is he the breath of God?

When the wind turns traveler
and asks, in my father’s voice, Have you prayed?
I remember three things.
One: A father’s love
is milk and sugar,
two-thirds worry, two-thirds grief, and what’s left over

is trimmed and leavened to make the bread
the dead and the living share.
And patience? That’s to endure
the terrible leavening and kneading.

And wisdom? That’s my father’s face in sleep.
When the wind
asks, Have you prayed?
I know it’s only me

reminding myself
a flower is one station between
earth’s wish and earth’s rapture, and blood
was fire, salt, and breath long before
it quickened any wand or branch, any limb
that woke speaking. It’s just me

in the gowns of the wind,
or my father through me, asking,
Have you found your refuge yet?
asking, Are you happy?
Strange. A troubled father. A happy son.
The wind with a voice. And me talking to no one.
Always honor the occasion. 

Always honor the occasion. 

Alma and Gustav Mahler

Alma and Gustav Mahler

(Source: almamahler, via fuckyeahgustavmahler)

(Source: pinterest.com, via theniftyfifties)

(via tortolita)

"New York has swallowed me up like a carnivorous plant swallowing a fly, I have been living a breathless life for fifty days now, here life consists of a series of appointments made a week or a fortnight in advance: lunch, cocktail party, dinner, evening party, these make up the various stages of the day which allow you constantly to meet new people, to make arrangements for other lunches, other dinners, other parties and so on ad infinitum. [New York City] is not the land of the unforeseen, but it is the land of the richness of life, of the fullness of every hour in the day…"

Italo Calvino, and other famous writers, on New York – private reflections from diaries and letters. (via explore-blog)

(Source: , via explore-blog)