dadsaretheoriginalhipster:

Your dad took killer profile pics before you did and he’s rowed a tree stump across the woods to prove it. He didn’t have Facebook, but if he did, the online world would have been knuckle-punch stunned by the WTF self shots he’s posed for. Inspired from acid trips, he recreated the absurd images that his drug induced brain conjured from its synaptic firings and then captured them for everyone to see. He was a sea Captain of the woods water that rode an unassembled canoe in hunt of the great hairy land mermaid. If you want to see his profile pic, just look on your grandparent’s actual walls or in their real photo albums.

 

So hipsters, next time you’re photoshopping pics or posing with taxidermied animals in hopes of one upping all your friend’s digital defaults, remember this…

 

Your dad was photographic gold before you were.

 

P.S. If a photo is worth a 1,000 words, his are worth a million confusing ones.

 

Thank you to Nathan for today’s photo. 

 ”He was a sea Captain of the woods water that rode an unassembled canoe in hunt of the great hairy land mermaid.”  <—brilliant.

whoa.

Fire dancing

(via des-cerises)

dadsaretheoriginalhipster:

Your dad used Instagr.am before you did. Back when he was beating up bush like the Muhammed Ali of sex, he had a Polaroid camera.

He aimed

He shot

The picture developed before his eyes

That shit was revolutionary, no longer did your dad have to take his dirty photos of your mom down to the pharmacy to get eye banged by the film tech who developed them fully erect. So hipster, next time you’re off making shitty iPhoneography and wondering which filter you should apply to the sun setting over San Francisco’s bay…

remember, our dad killed it in the instant game and he has a box of Polaroids he never wants you to see.

P.S. Your dad was meta as fuck too. Yes, that is a Polaroid photo of him that he then took another photo of. Your move hipsters… your move.

The chains we forge

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Sound Sculptures made from paint.