(Taken with http://cinemagr.am)
Artist Peter Cook, grew this living garden chair using tree shaping methods, primarily training a living tree through constricting the direction of branch growth. The chair took about eight years to grow.
Number of books you read per year x your estimated number of dementia-free remaining years = your number of books remaining
For me its 20 books/year x 35 dementia-free years left = 700 books, so I try to choose very carefully.
This number certainly focuses my reading. I give a book fifty pages. If it doesn’t grab me in that time, it’s gone.
I don’t think people realize how sad this is.
I audibly, “Awww“‘d for this man in the theater.
Look at his face in the second gif. He is SO happy. Someone sent him something, someone thought about him, someone noticed him.
He probably works all the time, an ex wife who never speaks to him and child she never let’s him see, no other family, no friends, maybe a pet but probably something like a goldfish. He had accepted his place in the world, resigned to be alone, and then this little bit of hope flies into his window that someone out there acknowledges his existence.
Maybe it was his son, who after all these years, remembered all the fun times they had making paper airplanes together before the divorce, and somehow tracked him down. With newly resurrected hope, he looks out to see who this magical lifeline of a person is, who with this small act, is saying, “I SEE you, I validate you as one human being to another.”
But the lifeline is severed in one brief gesture. “No, not you,” the gesture says. It was meant for someone else. And suddenly, he is alone again, right all along that no one cares anymore. That the world is cold and gray, he is not the main character in this story, just another extra no one will remember.
And in a fit of resentment for the person who got his hopes up, he crumples it up and throws it away along with his hope.