I'm Kaitlin. I live in Los Angeles. I come from a place where "sunbreaks" is an actual and necessary word to describe the few moments when the sun breaks through the clouds.
This is my blog. It has things I say and photos I take and probably some Photoshopping since I do that a lot. I also reblog whatever I feel like. It all goes here.
If you want to contact me about buying prints of photos/graphic arts, hiring me for a job or just to say hello, send me a message with the above link or email me at kaitlin[at]kaitlin-kelly[dot]com!
About a half-year ago, I went through a really bad spell with my health; I have some chronic illnesses that got worse than normal. I was lonely, sick, frustrated, tired and depressed.
My best friend Kelly lives in Michigan and we rarely get to see each other. One day I checked the mail and found a package I hadn’t been expecting, and when I opened it, I found that Kelly had drawn me this picture. It was one of the simplest yet nicest things anybody has ever done for me. Immediately my spirits were lifted, because the picture not only reminded me of her and that she loved me enough to take the time to do this, but of one of my favorite things about Doctor Who: that there’s something bigger out there than all of us and that in the end, things can and will always turn out magically.
I have a lot of Doctor Who related things, but there is no doubt that this is by far my favorite.
Sunset over the Tetons in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
© 2013 Kaitlin Kelly
Nikon D200 + 28mm lens
Art Nouveau A Song of Ice and Fire Sigils: House Martell
7.01 / 7.13
When I was in first grade, my best friend (who was Chinese) showed me how to write TEACHER in Mandarin. After that, in our monthly docent-led art lessons, I included the characters because I was so in love with how it looked. It became this sort of thing where I’d hide it in the picture; sometimes in the shape of the buildings that we were supposed to draw, or in the petals of a flower.
I did that until fifth grade. If I ever go through things I made as a child, the characters are in almost everything. She had taught me many more things throughout the years, but those were my favorite.
She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation.
In spirit she walks the city, traces its labyrinths, its dingy mazes: each assignation, each rendezvous, each door and stair and bed. What he said, what she said, what they did, what they did then. Even the times they argued, fought, parted, agonized, rejoined. How they’d loved to cut themselves on each other, taste their own blood. We were ruinous together, she thinks. But how else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin?
Sometimes she wants to put a match to him, have done with him; finish with that endless, useless longing. At the very least, daily time and the entropy of her own body should take care of it — wear her thread-bare, wear her out, erase that place in her brain. But no exorcism has been enough, nor has she tried very hard at it. Exorcism is not what she wants. She wants that terrified bliss, like falling out of an airplane by mistake. She wants his famished look.
Numbers stations are mysterious shortwave radio channels of indiscernible origin that exist in countries all across the world and have been reported since World War 1. They are identifiable by the unusual contents of their broadcasts: seemingly random sequences of numbers, words, letters, tunes, and Morse code, usually spoken by artificially generated voices of women and children.
The most common theory regarding the purpose of these bizarre stations is that they’re used by governments the world over to secretly transmit encrypted commands and messages to spies. That said, even though numbers stations have been discovered all over the globe and in any number of different languages, no government has ever officially acknowledged their existence. While the espionage theory is a logical one, with no official confirmation of their purpose the jury is still out.
One particularly odd station, UVB-76, has existed since the late 1970s and has broadcast a simple, repetitive buzzing tone 24 hours a day ever since. On very rare occasions, however, listeners have reported a Russian voice interrupting the buzz to read out sequences of numbers and words, always in a consistent format — this happened once in 1997, once in 2002, once in 2006, 56 times in 2010, and 14 in 2011. As with all numbers stations, its true purpose is and will probably remain unknown, but the increase in frequency of whatever it’s doing is certainly odd.
You can listen to well over 100 recordings of numbers stations for free on archive.org but be forewarned that they’re all kind of, well, eerie. They feel like something you shouldn’t be listening to, which stands to reason since apparently you’re not supposed to know they exist.
London Eye, shot in digital infrared.
© 2013 Kaitlin Kelly
Nikon D200 + 28mm lens
bluefootedbooby said: omg
ceyren said: are they matching cover colors or something
I hadn’t noticed the colors! I thought it was funny thematically, because well, District 12 are considered the longshots to win, and given Katniss’s status romantically, “bachelorette” also seemed funny.
So I really like to think that somebody at Netflix is sitting there like