Moritz Von Oswald Trio

In this world where every object was thrown away at the slightest sign of breakage or aging, at the first dent or stain, and replaced with a new and perfect substitute, there was just one false note, one shadow: the moon. It wandered through the sky naked, corroded, and gray, more and more alien to the world down here, a hangover from a way of being that was now outdated. -The Daughters of the Moon

Shadows by God Is An Astronaut

Image: Mina Mikhail

This was July, and July dirt tasted even more like sweetened metal than the dirt of June or May. Something in the growing crops unleashed a metallic life that only began to dissipate in mid-August, and by harvest time that life would be gone altogether, replaced by a sour moldiness he associated with the coming of fall and winter, the end of a relationship he had begun with the first taste of dirt back in March, before the first hard spring rain. Now, with the sun gone and no moon and the darkness having taken a nice hold of him, he walked to the end of the row, holding the mule by the tail. In the clearing he dropped the tail and moved around the mule toward the barn. - The Known World by Edward P. Jones

chairlift - planet health

Image: Ellomennopee

The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't. Douglas Adams

caspian - crawlspace

Image: Kirstan Jeanne (via NativeJoint)

Perhaps dirt is the necessary condition of beauty.... Perhaps hygiene and art can never be bedfellows. No Verdi, after all, without spitting into trumpets. No Duse without a crowd of malodorous bourgeois giving one another their coryzas. And think of the inexpungable retreats for microbes prepared by Michelangelo in the curls of Moses' beard! - Aldous Huxley