shear-in-spuh-rey-shuhn:

PERCY GRAYEucalyptus Grove, MontereyWatercolor on paper13.5 × 10 inches

I want to be there.

shear-in-spuh-rey-shuhn:

PERCY GRAY
Eucalyptus Grove, Monterey
Watercolor on paper
13.5 × 10 inches

I want to be there.


The oldest existing vending machine in Japan, made in 1904. It dispensed stamps and postcards, and I want it. Exhibit in the Communications Museum, Tokyo.

The oldest existing vending machine in Japan, made in 1904. It dispensed stamps and postcards, and I want it. Exhibit in the Communications Museum, Tokyo.


laresdomestici:

doll61:


Now THAT is a door.

laresdomestici:

doll61:

Now THAT is a door.

(via sweetlysurreal)


People (and a statue) at mailboxes: real photo postcard; 1914 postcard by Katherine Gassaway; man empties post box on side of trolley; vintage Gil Elvgren (1914-1980); British blue airmail box and car; postcard Macau; John Lennon posts for Christmas; “The Pointless Postcard,” a postcard by Edward Gorey (1925-2000); Alex Olson does a Hippy Jump over a mailbox; young woman by a mailbox from the Tumblr blog of Emma Rose Neves.


Postman postcard, Japan, 1913.

Postman postcard, Japan, 1913.


petitcabinetdecuriosites:

(via Picture of the Day: First Flight «TwistedSifter)

By Swedish photographer Karin Thorell. She photographs birds, insects and others in nature. In a photo-shoot of a Golden-eye Duck colony, Thorell captured two baby common golden-eye ducks leaving the nest and taking to the air for their first ever flight.

petitcabinetdecuriosites:

(via Picture of the Day: First Flight «TwistedSifter)

By Swedish photographer Karin Thorell. She photographs birds, insects and others in nature. In a photo-shoot of a Golden-eye Duck colony, Thorell captured two baby common golden-eye ducks leaving the nest and taking to the air for their first ever flight.


indigodreams:

Curiosities of Andalucía: Poster of the Corpus festivities in Granada, 1921

Now THIS is a travel poster.

indigodreams:

Curiosities of Andalucía: Poster of the Corpus festivities in Granada, 1921

Now THIS is a travel poster.

(via heaveninawildflower)


Three by Austrian painter Alexander Rothaug (1870-1946): Poetry, Bewitched, and Venice at Night.


I do not mean to suggest that I was close to the Vanderbilts or that I have sipped tea on a porch at the Biltmore. But I am fairly certain the man seated on our right is George W. Vanderbilt II who built and owned the estate. The dog at his knee is most likely Cedric, his first St. Bernard.
Center chair, seated, may be George’s sister, Eliza Vanderbilt Webb, with her daughter, Frederica Vanderbilt Webb, standing behind her. The woman standing on the left is most likely Alice Claypoole Gwynne Vanderbilt, wife of Cornelius Vanderbilt II, and George’s sister-in-law. The woman seated in front of Alice, with the Irish wolfhound, is probably George’s wife Edith Dresser Vanderbilt.
The seated woman looking grumpy might be Margaret Louisa Vanderbilt Shepard, George’s sister, but I’m not putting any money on it. And the man with the moustache standing behind George, I have no idea. But I admire them all for taking tea with their dogs.

I do not mean to suggest that I was close to the Vanderbilts or that I have sipped tea on a porch at the Biltmore. But I am fairly certain the man seated on our right is George W. Vanderbilt II who built and owned the estate. The dog at his knee is most likely Cedric, his first St. Bernard.

Center chair, seated, may be George’s sister, Eliza Vanderbilt Webb, with her daughter, Frederica Vanderbilt Webb, standing behind her. The woman standing on the left is most likely Alice Claypoole Gwynne Vanderbilt, wife of Cornelius Vanderbilt II, and George’s sister-in-law. The woman seated in front of Alice, with the Irish wolfhound, is probably George’s wife Edith Dresser Vanderbilt.

The seated woman looking grumpy might be Margaret Louisa Vanderbilt Shepard, George’s sister, but I’m not putting any money on it. And the man with the moustache standing behind George, I have no idea. But I admire them all for taking tea with their dogs.


James J. Taylor’s only tools were his hands – and a stick to finish off the delicate details of his sand sculptures. This postcard dates comes from Atlantic City, in 1906, but Taylor did sand sculptures in his home of Asbury Park and on the west coast as well. Born in 1860, he began sculpting in sand when he was 28; he could gather about $30 in tips for a sculpture and made more by selling postcards such as this one. A California newspaper noted:

"Taylor does not exert himself unless there is a goodly crowd on the strand, for he has followed the work so long that he has grown worldly-wise. Sculpture in the sand requires of the artist that he ‘start at the top’ … for his material slips and falls, and an unnecessary touch may mean the sudden destruction of a portion of his subject. And an accident counts for a good deal, as the sand subject cannot be built up so easily as it is cut out. A figure like that of the woman and child takes about two hours’ work… His work is done within a few feet of the water’s edge. The sand must be a little damp. Rain spoils it. The dampness must be afforded by salt water. The sand on this coast the artist has found to be flat and not so compact as the eastern sand. It contains, he says, a large amount of ash.”

Did he feel a pang of regret when the tide came in and washed away his work?

"Not unless there’s a crowd of people around admiring it. The material is still there and I can do the work again."

James J. Taylor’s only tools were his hands – and a stick to finish off the delicate details of his sand sculptures. This postcard dates comes from Atlantic City, in 1906, but Taylor did sand sculptures in his home of Asbury Park and on the west coast as well. Born in 1860, he began sculpting in sand when he was 28; he could gather about $30 in tips for a sculpture and made more by selling postcards such as this one. A California newspaper noted:

"Taylor does not exert himself unless there is a goodly crowd on the strand, for he has followed the work so long that he has grown worldly-wise. Sculpture in the sand requires of the artist that he ‘start at the top’ … for his material slips and falls, and an unnecessary touch may mean the sudden destruction of a portion of his subject. And an accident counts for a good deal, as the sand subject cannot be built up so easily as it is cut out. A figure like that of the woman and child takes about two hours’ work… His work is done within a few feet of the water’s edge. The sand must be a little damp. Rain spoils it. The dampness must be afforded by salt water. The sand on this coast the artist has found to be flat and not so compact as the eastern sand. It contains, he says, a large amount of ash.”

Did he feel a pang of regret when the tide came in and washed away his work?

"Not unless there’s a crowd of people around admiring it. The material is still there and I can do the work again."