Lizzie Magie’s story is one that’s slipped through the cracks of popular knowledge. Though she’s the original creator behind Monopoly, a board game that’s achieved iconic status, her part in its history is largely overlooked. To add insult to injury, she gained minimal recognition, and even less monetary reward.
That little aster, fragile as it looks, packs a punch. It’s not just a nice bit of garden color, you know. It’s got this whole weight of feeling to it, like someone reaching for something beyond, a real cosmic sort of beauty, and deep, down emotions. Those petals, the way they kind of shine, like tiny stars, and even its name, “aster” from the Greek for “star,” tells a story. People have been seeing that starlight in its petals, in gardens and in old stories, for ages and ages.
They speak of Lee Godie—Jamot Emily Godee, born 1908, died 1994—in hushed tones, a blend of wonder, curiosity, and maybe a little confusion. She called herself a French Impressionist, though she learned art on her own. And at the age of 60, homeless, she took to the streets, reinventing herself. You’d find her on Chicago’s Michigan Avenue, a street artist, almost a ghost, from the late sixties to the early nineties.
Japan is a land of neon lights, pristine city streets, meticulously crafted gardens, and the Rising Sun. But beneath its orderly surface lies a quiet phenomenon that much of the world has never even heard of. It’s not an urban legend or a cultural curiosity—it’s real. It’s called Johatsu, the mystery of Japan’s “vanishing people.”
From the outside, Ron’s Place, a formerly rented flat in Oxton, Birkenhead, looks like any other home on the street. But behind its unassuming exterior lies a hidden world of artistic wonder. For over 30 years, Ron Gittins, a self-taught artist, transformed this space into a personal masterpiece—one that had never been seen by anyone during his lifetime.
You know those tiny villages in southern France you dream about? Well, Lieuran-Cabrières is one of them, and La Potentille? That’s the place you want to stay. It’s an old sheepfold, can you believe it? But they’ve turned it into the coziest little bed and breakfast.
A ballerina stands poised beneath the towering bow of a ship, her silhouette framed against an expanse of ice and endless sky. This is more than a performance—it’s a poignant message. In a mesmerizing collaboration with dancer, photographer, and director Mathieu Forget, Victoria Dauberville’s Antarctic ballet captures the delicate beauty of a world on the brink of transformation, a fleeting masterpiece set against a landscape that is vanishing before our eyes.
With “The Female Gaze,” Katherine Fraser throws out the rulebook—on painting, identity, and who gets to take up space. This collection is a visceral experience—raw, unfiltered, and deeply personal. It’s Katherine at her most vulnerable—and most powerful.
Snuggled beneath a warm blanket, you ride through a pristine winter landscape, the soft jingle of harness bells echoing in the crisp air. Towering snow-covered peaks frame the scene as elk roam freely across the frosted terrain, creating a breathtaking encounter with nature’s quiet majesty at the National Elk Refuge.
Whether through his electrifying collages, raw illustrations, or experimental photography, Claudio Parentela’s work doesn’t just speak—it shouts, distorts, and demands your attention.
