A box for things ...
Reblogged from mobylosangelesarchitecture
some things make sense to me and i don’t really expect them to make sense to other people. like today, for example. i was at union station in los angeles and i had an hour to kill before my train, so i went for a random walk around the random area around the station. and i found this odd concrete brutalist parking bunker.
to me it looked beautiful. so beautiful that if it were a home i’d want to live there. and that’s the part that i assume wouldn’t make sense to other people. that a brutalist concrete parking bunker could be beautiful and that someone (in this case: me) would want to live there. maybe a cozy couple of rooms within the brutalist concrete parking bunker.
but isn’t it beautiful? i love utilitarian architecture and design that are accidentally beautiful. i don’t imagine that too many people stop to notice this beautiful parking bunker as they’re rushing to park their cars so they can take the train to the beach. but i noticed it and loved it.
if you need to send me mail in the future just address it: ‘moby c/o brutalist parking structure behind union station los angeles, ca’
and i’ll be living in the basement turning into gollum.
Reblogged from beautiful-belgium
James Ensor (right) with Albert Einstein (left)
”That’s Einstein on the far left, Ensor, in the black hat, on the right. In August of that year, the German Jewish philosopher Theodore Lessing had been murdered by the Nazis in Czechoslovakia, where he had fled for his safety. Einstein and his wife, traveling in Southern California, got wind that their home in Germany had been ransacked. Belgium seemed a safe enough place to stop and think what to do. King Albert provided a little villa at De Haan, and the Belgians did everything possible to make Einstein welcome. That included arranging a luncheon with James Ensor. As befits a man likely wondering what new alliances might save his life, Einstein is engaged, leaning into the group. Ensor, whom the camera always set apart from any others present, leans back, almost ceremonially displaying the large bony hands that had for decades done nothing but knot cravats and noodle on the harmonium. If the two visionaries had a conversation amounting to more than pleasantries, it was not transcribed, but much Belgian speculation has gone into making it a substantive affair.”