Thiago Santos

This is Thiago Santos. In other words, my latest obsession.

Here is his profile from models.com under their Model of the Week:

Name:Thiago SantosAgency:New York Model Mgmt.Age:17Height:6'1" (186cm)Place of Origin:Brazil.Ethnic Origin:Brazilian.Birthsign:Sagitarius.How discovered:By David Ralph at Proscout in Dallas.Favorite things:Reading, taking pictures, tanning, dancing and surfing.Favorite music, band:Bob Marley, Hillsong Unite - Revolution.Favorite piece of clothing:Swim trunks.Hobbies:Soccer, basketball, volleyball, magic, le parkour.5 things you always carry with you:Passport, book, cards, cellphone and a smile.Place you'd love to visit:Hawaii.Currently you're obsessed with/about:Being famous.

...marry me now, please. kthnx.

And just look at that hair!

And he's only 17!

And he's tall!

And he's also a Sagittarius!

And he's FUCKING AWESOME.

If anyone else meets these qualifications that is a teensy bit more accessible to lust over, please let me know. I'm not sure anyone can beat Thiago, though. Dayuuum.

(information found via models.com, images from a quick google search.)

in the works.

the candles are burnt down to the wick

and i still got nowhere to go.

this is

no love song

no tragedy,

no indie rock star movie scene.

this is just a chilly dank and damp evening

too early to sleep and too late to speak.

and nobody will leave this poem alive.

because art is death

or rather,

art is a deconstruction and reconstruction

of life, of love, of all that good stuff

that makes you get up in the morning

and look out the window

and see diamonds in the dew on the leaves

and your grandmother's hair in the clouds in the sky

and the broken spirit lying just underneath

the surface of that

boy you sat across from on the subway

and the ecstasy in a woman's face

when her newborn baby falls asleep against her breast.

but really

art is a crystalline castle

a fortress you build piece by piece

line by line

sketch by sketch

to guard yourself from the intricacies

and reality of the world around and within you

but no

art is another dimension

where you can chuck every thought

every emotion all imagination into creation

no obstruction and it's just you

and it

and it's beautiful.

and sometimes you've just gotta do it

because nothing else can make you feel

and nothing else can make you love

and cry and hate and scream and smile

the way that art can.

Bits and Pieces #2

14307.) I want to hold your hand.

(from blogsecret and weheartit)

Thoughts on photoshop and special effects.

Although the advances we have made in photography and films are incredible, it saddens me when I think of the fact that I can no longer trust an image I see or a video I watch.

I may not understand photoshop, but there are so many people who, with a few clicks, can completely transform a picture. How can I trust anything I see? How am I to know that nothing in the photograph was edited? Photoshop is essentially a cheap imitation of the magic that a master photographer can work in a darkroom and with a camera. The results can be beautiful, but I will always have the haunting knowledge that it's fake.

It's really frustrating when you spend days, weeks, perfecting a photo, and someone else can do the whole process digitally in a couple hours. It can take multiple rolls of film to get that perfect shot, and then the film may get ruined while you're developing it. You may spend an enormous amount of time testing times and filters and burning and dodging and layering and any other little trick, and when you finally get it right, you can still end up with water or chemical spots. And if everything goes well, and it dries right, you have an enormous feeling of satisfaction. YOU made it happen. With photoshop, yes, there is satisfaction after making a particularly amazing transformation, but really, anyone can do it. There are really simple ways to get the effect of a vintage polaroid or a lensbaby without a polaroid camera or lensbaby. And, if I spend my money and time creating the perfect TTV apparatus and getting the perfect cameras for it, how ticked do you think I'd be when I find people making fake ones with downloaded templates who are passing them off as "real art"?

I don't mean to say it isn't amazing. The things people can do these days with technology astounds me. But please, can we return to a time that still is amazed at plain film cameras, and people don't get bored during movies without visual effects? And will I ever again be able to look at a photograph and not have to wonder if any of it hasn't been altered with some program?

Bits and Pieces #1

(favourite. found here.)

This will be on-going, without title. Just posts of bits and pieces of inspiration I find.

(images found on weheartit except where noted)

And ohmygod I love Marry Me Young so much. So many images and words.

Note to Self.

Sometimes the only word you are capable of using is fuck.

Sometimes you have to cry.

Sometimes the only thing you can do is scream.

Sometimes it's okay to do nothing all day.

Sometimes it's okay to take a break.

Sometimes the best thing to do is forget.

Sometimes you can't help but remember.

can anybody find me somebody to love...

I just can't get no relief.

I don't really know if the cracks in the sidewalk are speaking to me by design or if it's all just in my head, like the leaves on the trees or the songs on the radio. Nothing is as beautiful as a plastic Christmas tree still up in March or so ugly as a surprise birthday party and the guests don't arrive. How can we exist? What the fuck caused mitochondria? Really? There's a billion people in this world, but no one, no one, no one. I hate the phrase "silence is deafening" but I know I've felt alone in a crowd. There's something in the air when you see two people beginning a relationship, but no pheromones here. I don't know why you came if you're not going to let me speak. But there are no more words. This language can't communicate. My genomic library doesn't fit; the books don't relate, they're written in a language I cannot comprehend. σ'αγαπώ; I love you? Why don't you go with her to make sure she's okay?

let go. let go. let go. breathe. float.

it's finished. it's begun.

don't let go.

Today is a lounge-around-with-a-book kind of day. And an eat-as-many-sour-patch-kids-as-you-want kind of day.

I have nooo motivation today. I am full of complaints and that's okay. Fuck today. Tomorrow will be lovely.

(photo by this girl)

Copycat.

Urban Outfitters:

Threadless:

Really, Urban Outfitters?

You could at least TRY when you completely steal other people's designs. And those are even the original colours for the shirt! The red is for a threadless reprint.

Ugh.

Happy New Year!

Happy 2010! A day late but ehhh. I'm actually sad to see 2009 leave. Oh well, it was great while it lasted.

This is the year I graduate high school. This is the year I go to college. Biiiiig changes.

Here's to the new year. Here's to a bigger to-do list than ever. No resolutions. Nooo resolutions. They never work.

1. Write more. Write write write. All the time.

2. Start reading for pure enjoyment. No in-depth analysis, no anything. Just pick up a book.

3. Feel beautiful. And never lose that feeling.

4. Figure out what to do with my life.

5. Cook on weekdays.

You know, just a few simple things to do.

Craft: Making Candles

For this Christmas, I made a few of my friends candles.

The full method can be read here on Bonzai Aphrodite, so I'll be brief.

You'll need microwaveable wax, a crock pot, candle holders (glasses, teacups, mugs, etc.), wicks, and, if you want, colouring and scent.

I bought the wax at a generic craft store, same with the wicks and scent (I used a raspberry vanilla liquid one), and the cups all cost about five dollars. I love Goodwill. :)

This was taken when I turned off the crock pot and placed the wicks in.

And they're done!

I'll definitely be making more.