voie triomphale

The skin trembles in happiness and the soul comes joyful to the eye.
nationalpost: The hunters become the hunted: Indian state sanctions shooting animal poachersA western Indian state has declared war on animal poaching by sanctioning its forest guards to shoot hunters on sight in an effort to curb rampant attacks against tigers, elephants and other wildlife.The government in Maharashtra says injuring or killing suspected poachers will no longer be considered a crime.According to the Wildlife Protection Society of India, 14 tigers have been killed by poachers in India so far this year — one more than for all of 2011. The tiger is considered endangered, with its habitat range shrinking more than 50 per cent in the last quarter-century and its numbers declining rapidly from the 5,000-7,000 estimated in the 1990s, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature. (AP Photo/Corbett Tiger Reserve)

nationalpost:

The hunters become the hunted: Indian state sanctions shooting animal poachers
A western Indian state has declared war on animal poaching by sanctioning its forest guards to shoot hunters on sight in an effort to curb rampant attacks against tigers, elephants and other wildlife.

The government in Maharashtra says injuring or killing suspected poachers will no longer be considered a crime.

According to the Wildlife Protection Society of India, 14 tigers have been killed by poachers in India so far this year — one more than for all of 2011. The tiger is considered endangered, with its habitat range shrinking more than 50 per cent in the last quarter-century and its numbers declining rapidly from the 5,000-7,000 estimated in the 1990s, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature. (AP Photo/Corbett Tiger Reserve)

(via npr)

spray-can:

These mesmerizing sculptures are the work of William Ricketts, a rare Australian born in 1898 who was in awe of the connection the Aborigine people have with the land. Hidden deep within a lush Australian rainforest are a set of mystical Aborigine sculptures seemingly merged into the natural surroundings. Moss covered torsos of men, women and children protrude from tree trunks and boulders. Some reach heavenward with widespread wings, others envelop each other protectively – all are symbols of the relationship the indigenous Australian Aborigines have with nature.

Beautiful!

(Source: somewhereinthisuniverse, via fellinlovewiththevoice)

thepacegallery: Pier Paolo Calzolari, Donna Colonna, 2001, white skirt, iron, egg, ceramic, closed-loop pump © Pier Paolo Calzolari / Photo Courtesy BFAnyc.com Performance is an integral aspect of Calzolari’s practice; he created happenings as early as 1966, drawing viewers into his artwork as performers in what he termed “an activation of space.”  Pier Paolo Calzolari: When the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream? is on view at 510 West 25th Street in collaboration with Marianne Boesky Gallery until June 2nd, 2012. 

thepacegallery:

Pier Paolo Calzolari, Donna Colonna, 2001, white skirt, iron, egg, ceramic, closed-loop pump © Pier Paolo Calzolari / Photo Courtesy BFAnyc.com

Performance is an integral aspect of Calzolari’s practice; he created happenings as early as 1966, drawing viewers into his artwork as performers in what he termed “an activation of space.”  Pier Paolo Calzolari: When the dreamer dies, what happens to the dream? is on view at 510 West 25th Street in collaboration with Marianne Boesky Gallery until June 2nd, 2012. 

Anyone who is in love is making love the whole time, even when they’re not. When two bodies meet, it is just the cup overflowing. They can stay together for hours, even days. They begin the dance one day and finish it the next, or—such is the pleasure they experience—they may never finish it. No eleven minutes for them.

—Paulo Coelho (via vvolare)

(via fellinlovewiththevoice)

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Iron & Wine

—Tree By The River

Tree By the River, Iron & Wine

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

—Pablo Neruda  (via anemolia)

(Source: reluis, via fellinlovewiththevoice)