خاطره های شیرینت را جا گذاشتی
لای آن کتاب، لبه ی این فنجان،
زیر شاخه های کج کاج حیاط،
روی صافی تابلوهای نقاشی.
حالا که داری می روی
این ها را هم با خودت ببر.
هیچ چیز
به قساوت شیرینی یاد خاطره ها،
کام آدم را تلخ نمی کند.
I hate to end this list with nine. Who has a #10?
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I hate to end this list with nine. Who has a #10?
This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service - if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read the FAQ at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php#publishers.
I don’t know what other startup founders experience along the way, but for me it’s been quite jarring.
For the longest time I felt like I was being unproductive whenever I wasn’t doing something in the first group. Things like email and meetings felt like they weren’t ‘real work’. And perhaps they weren’t. In the early days of Envato, the real work was … well, making Envato.
These days I have the opposite problem. When I sneakily open Photoshop, or make time to write, or chat on the forums, it feels suspiciously like I’m dodging the budget, avoiding my burgeoning inbox, or procrastinating on reading a tax report.
For Everything There is a Season
My mother says that in life there are seasons. She gave me this advice when our first son arrived. And like the first warm day of spring, or the initial chill of winter, his arrival was a definite shift in season!
Her words resonated with me, and I remember them whenever I reflect on what’s changed since I became a parent. Fatherhood has its ups and its downs, just like pre-parenthood had its fair share of good and bad. Neither is better than the other, they are just different.
In startup life too there are seasons. The beginning of a company’s life has some amazing bits to it. There’s the complete open world of possibility, the triumph of early wins, the excitement of creating something that wasn’t there before, and the fun of being the underdog. Balancing those are the money problems, the fear of failure, the difficulty of creating something that doesn’t yet exist, and all the lack of resources that come with being the underdog.
Some years ago, the season changed. Envato grew up and became a company. The number of people went from a handful to a few dozen, to a couple hundred. And with the new season came new positives and new challenges.
Today there is the magic of a great team, the satisfaction of watching a happy culture growing, the luxury of resources, and the confidence of achievement. But on the flip is the array of issues that come with a larger business, like the challenges of keeping culture healthy, the inertias of size, and the need to think about hairy stuff like cross-border tax landscapes!
This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service - if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read the FAQ at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php#publishers.
I don’t know what other startup founders experience along the way, but for me it’s been quite jarring.
For the longest time I felt like I was being unproductive whenever I wasn’t doing something in the first group. Things like email and meetings felt like they weren’t ‘real work’. And perhaps they weren’t. In the early days of Envato, the real work was … well, making Envato.
These days I have the opposite problem. When I sneakily open Photoshop, or make time to write, or chat on the forums, it feels suspiciously like I’m dodging the budget, avoiding my burgeoning inbox, or procrastinating on reading a tax report.
For Everything There is a Season
My mother says that in life there are seasons. She gave me this advice when our first son arrived. And like the first warm day of spring, or the initial chill of winter, his arrival was a definite shift in season!
Her words resonated with me, and I remember them whenever I reflect on what’s changed since I became a parent. Fatherhood has its ups and its downs, just like pre-parenthood had its fair share of good and bad. Neither is better than the other, they are just different.
In startup life too there are seasons. The beginning of a company’s life has some amazing bits to it. There’s the complete open world of possibility, the triumph of early wins, the excitement of creating something that wasn’t there before, and the fun of being the underdog. Balancing those are the money problems, the fear of failure, the difficulty of creating something that doesn’t yet exist, and all the lack of resources that come with being the underdog.
Some years ago, the season changed. Envato grew up and became a company. The number of people went from a handful to a few dozen, to a couple hundred. And with the new season came new positives and new challenges.
Today there is the magic of a great team, the satisfaction of watching a happy culture growing, the luxury of resources, and the confidence of achievement. But on the flip is the array of issues that come with a larger business, like the challenges of keeping culture healthy, the inertias of size, and the need to think about hairy stuff like cross-border tax landscapes!
This entry passed through the Full-Text RSS service - if this is your content and you're reading it on someone else's site, please read the FAQ at fivefilters.org/content-only/faq.php#publishers.
American photographer Stephen Shore once said, “To see something spectacular and recognize it as a photographic possibility is not making a very big leap. But to see something ordinary, something you’d see every day, and recognize it as a photographic possibility—that’s what I’m interested in.”
Shore has spent the best part of his life interrogating the limits of photography: From his early exhibitions of color-film photographs (which were widely derided) to his current use of Instagram as the sole platform for his work since 2014, his decisions are not made to please crowds—but to extend himself and his own practice. Whilst Shore may be described as a chronicler of the unspectacular, the banal becomes something else through his lens. Restrained and intellectual, his photography feels as casual as the moments it portraits. With humor and intelligence imbued in each frame, Shore’s constant desire for progress in the field of photography seems viscerally present across his photographic oeuvre.
American photographer Stephen Shore once said, “To see something spectacular and recognize it as a photographic possibility is not making a very big leap. But to see something ordinary, something you’d see every day, and recognize it as a photographic possibility—that’s what I’m interested in.”
Shore has spent the best part of his life interrogating the limits of photography: From his early exhibitions of color-film photographs (which were widely derided) to his current use of Instagram as the sole platform for his work since 2014, his decisions are not made to please crowds—but to extend himself and his own practice. Whilst Shore may be described as a chronicler of the unspectacular, the banal becomes something else through his lens. Restrained and intellectual, his photography feels as casual as the moments it portraits. With humor and intelligence imbued in each frame, Shore’s constant desire for progress in the field of photography seems viscerally present across his photographic oeuvre.
Discarded photographs from yesteryear are given new life in the photographic project ‘Single Image Processing’ by Japanese artist, Kensuke Koike.
In the stacks of weathered old photographs, worn albums and bundles of vintage postcards so often found at flea markets, Koike finds inspiration for a different kind of photographic practice. Using a scalpel, Koike meticulously crafts his work from these original photographs, reconstructing them by a collage process where he states, there is “nothing added” and “nothing removed.” These pieces are nostalgic for a pre-internet age when graphic work was done by hand and creation was a laborious, skillful process. As faces float from the heads they were once attached to, and people become terrifying arachnids that float off-page, you can’t help but notice the surrealist edge with which Koike crafts his pieces.
Koike began his journey into image manipulation using his own photographs but found the challenge of altering a vintage image more enticing. In an interview with LensCulture, he remarked: “I wanted to try something more challenging and delve deeper into the meaning of an image. More risk means that I have to think twice before cutting the originals, and that is important.”
All images © Kensuke Koike
Oslo studio Morfeus Arkitekter has completed a mirrored toilet block on the Norwegian coastline of Andøya, a magnificent rest break for road trippers passing by.
Situated in one of the northern island’s ‘18 Scenic Routes’, the new rest area is positioned close to the water’s edge alongside a road that separates the jagged mountain peaks in the east, from the wide ocean to the west. Located not far away is another impressively designed toilet facility featuring a curved, wave-shaped roof that reflects the surrounding landscape.
The architectural expression was motivated by the encompassing climate. Angular concrete structures are spread across the rugged terrain with walls of mirrored glass, and the rear wall is made of one-way mirrored glass which allows users to look out at the landscape from the inside with considered privacy. “Our goal was that the project should appear more like landscape and sculptural elements, [and] less like a building”, explain the architects. “The mirroring makes the built melt in with the surroundings, at the same time offering new and shifting experiences”.
The rest area includes a free-standing bench for viewing the open sea, picnic areas and several trodden tracks leading to the top of the sacred Bukkekjerka rock formation, where one can observe the mountain peaks in the north, and the midnight sun in summer.
Oslo studio Morfeus Arkitekter has completed a mirrored toilet block on the Norwegian coastline of Andøya, a magnificent rest break for road trippers passing by.
Situated in one of the northern island’s ‘18 Scenic Routes’, the new rest area is positioned close to the water’s edge alongside a road that separates the jagged mountain peaks in the east, from the wide ocean to the west. Located not far away is another impressively designed toilet facility featuring a curved, wave-shaped roof that reflects the surrounding landscape.
The architectural expression was motivated by the encompassing climate. Angular concrete structures are spread across the rugged terrain with walls of mirrored glass, and the rear wall is made of one-way mirrored glass which allows users to look out at the landscape from the inside with considered privacy. “Our goal was that the project should appear more like landscape and sculptural elements, [and] less like a building”, explain the architects. “The mirroring makes the built melt in with the surroundings, at the same time offering new and shifting experiences”.
The rest area includes a free-standing bench for viewing the open sea, picnic areas and several trodden tracks leading to the top of the sacred Bukkekjerka rock formation, where one can observe the mountain peaks in the north, and the midnight sun in summer.
Discarded photographs from yesteryear are given new life in the photographic project ‘Single Image Processing’ by Japanese artist, Kensuke Koike.
In the stacks of weathered old photographs, worn albums and bundles of vintage postcards so often found at flea markets, Koike finds inspiration for a different kind of photographic practice. Using a scalpel, Koike meticulously crafts his work from these original photographs, reconstructing them by a collage process where he states, there is “nothing added” and “nothing removed.” These pieces are nostalgic for a pre-internet age when graphic work was done by hand and creation was a laborious, skillful process. As faces float from the heads they were once attached to, and people become terrifying arachnids that float off-page, you can’t help but notice the surrealist edge with which Koike crafts his pieces.
Koike began his journey into image manipulation using his own photographs but found the challenge of altering a vintage image more enticing. In an interview with LensCulture, he remarked: “I wanted to try something more challenging and delve deeper into the meaning of an image. More risk means that I have to think twice before cutting the originals, and that is important.”
All images © Kensuke Koike