We are not the owners, we are the caretakers for Mother Earth.

(via starbelcher)

(via starbelcher)

staceythinx:

Science is lovely in silk (at least it is in the hands of Karen Kamenetzky).

Kamenetzky on her work:

I dye, paint and stitch cottons and silks to create boldly colored wallhangings inspired by microscopic/cellular imagery - a kind of visual invented biology with textiles. I find this imagery metaphorically rich since all change fundamentally happens on this infinitesimal level.

(via scientificillustration)

(via whateverpaddlesyourcanoe)

A leading psychiatrist whose controversial study backed therapies to make gay people straight has admitted it was flawed and apologised to homosexuals for implying that they could be “cured”.

In 2003, Robert Spitzer, while at the New York State Psychiatric Institute,published a paper in Archives of Sexual Behavior concluding that “reparative” therapy – which can include aversive conditioning and spiritual intervention – could change sexual orientation. He reached this conclusion after interviews with 200 self-selected individuals who claimed to have become heterosexual after the therapy.

In a letter published in the same journal this week, Spitzer speaks of the “fatal flaw” in his study: the impossibility of telling whether his interviewees had genuinely changed sexual orientation.

“I believe I owe the gay community an apology for my study making unproven claims of the efficacy of reparative therapy,” he writes.

Journal reference:Archives of Sexual Behavior, DOI: 10.1007/s10508-012-9966-y

uneasyparadox:

Dali, Van Gogh and Picasso. Interesting.

(via fuckyeahartandscience)

thecomposites:

Cathy Ames, East of Eden, John Steinbeck

She was not like other people, never was from birth…There was a time when a girl like Cathy would have been called possessed by the devil…Her hair was gold and lovely; wide-set hazel eyes with upper lids that drooped made her look mysteriously sleepy. Her nose was delicate and thin, and her cheekbones high and wide, sweeping down to a small chin so that her face was heart-shaped. Her mouth was well shaped and well lipped but abnormally small— what used to be called a rosebud. (Suggested by macaroninichelle ) 

fuckyeahartandscience:

Star Trails from DareTheHair1’s Star Trail Time Lapse

We are made of star-stuff.

 Tis the season for the first hum and harmony of cricket song. Their deep-pitched trills are the testimony of summer nights. By the lights of full moons and new moons waning and waxing, they remove their heavy winter shrouds to become the orchestra that coaxes the sweat from our skin.

Before they begin, they implore the velvet heavens, paraphrasing Eliot, “sweet summer breeze, run softly til I end my song, sweet summer stars, run softy for I speak not loud or long.”

And you could swear, the tune makes the leaves greener

The cricket song is the backdrop to the summer orchestra, it is the bass line and the beat, and the meter and the key. It is the accompaniment to the damp sheets of humidity, it is the foundation for the dance of the fireflies’ wings and our own starry-eyed lullabies.