#bamboo bookshelf

[carefreehomefurnishings]

Bookcases and Shelves | Stylish Bamboo Bookshelves for Your Living Room | Carefree Home Furnishings

[whovians-suffer-most]

Living Room - Rustic Living Room Inspiration for a small rustic enclosed concrete floor and beige floor living room remodel with white walls, no fireplace and no tv

[manifestiv]

2025, week 3: Pai-ssimilation

[pearlcatcher-problems]

pour one out for my tablet, finally broken after...... thirteen years

l m a o I was overdue replacing it but I love it so much ; w;

time to look at a replacement -- not doing wacom again because EXPENSE but maybe XPpen? No idea but I'm out of time now given the lineup of commissions I have and personal projects I want DONE.

[heartbeetz]

I've talked before about how I think it's funny that so many of my f/os are associated with reds (or pinks) and/or greens. But it only just occurred to me that that's probably connected to earth tones (especially reds and greens, but also brown/black) being my favorite colors for things to be. Like my bedsheets and plant pots and furniture and random decorative items are mostly reds and greens (+brown). Fucking of course I'd also be drawn to characters who are those colors. Whatever.

[cattownshend]

Great Room in San Francisco Great room - mid-sized contemporary dark wood floor great room idea with white walls

[solarenchanting]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 ── .✦ gojō satoru x fem!reader

should you call him on his birthday?

note: inspired by the song, “birthday” by disclosure, syd, and kehlani; notably the first verse and chorus sparked the inspiration of this fic + specific items are indicated to be meaningful to fem!reader + use of 24-hour time.

part two: birthday wish

the dim, yellow light of your desk lamp glowed in your home office. its warm glare illuminated your surroundings, the familiar decor accompanied by its shadows. the bookshelf filled with your favourite books, various framed portraits of your favourite artworks on the wall, the sheen glint of the laminate floor.

sandalwood lingered in the air, the thick bamboo stick burned slowly into ash. the remnants of gray dropped onto the wooden boat burner. with a turn of your shoulder, you’d see it perched on the windowsill.

the ticking sound of the pendulum clock, its silver swinging weight swaying side to side, fell in rhythm with the soothing pitter-patter of the rain tapping against the window.

to anyone else, this would be heaven.

to have the exquisite blend of sandalwood—woody, creamy, ambery, and slightly sweet scent—creating a mellow and calming ambience, paired with the warmth of the desk lamp and the steady rhythm encouraging you to relax?

definitely heaven.

however, in reality?

you were in hell.

a plethora of paperwork — forms, rosters, letters, reports — and files lay on your mahogany study desk, barely allowing the dark reddish-brown surface to show. your laptop was on, the brightness on the lowest level, with an email that did not find you well. your notebook was open, a black ballpoint pen in hand, sliding rapidly across each page you wrote, each document you signed.

your tired eyes darted around, solely focused on the work in front of you. whether it was scanning the content of whatever document you came across, watching the movement of your hand as you wrote, or glancing between the keyboard and the laptop screen—your eyes roamed everywhere.

everywhere except the bookshelf filled with your favourite books that you couldn’t afford at one point.

everywhere except the various framed portraits of your favourite artworks that you never thought you would own.

everywhere except the wooden boat burner that held the sandalwood incense, bought as a replacement for your old incense holder.

everywhere except the pendulum clock that hung on the wall, the one that caught your eye when you were window shopping that one time.

everywhere except those gifts that were from—

your hand froze—along with your body—stopping at a random syllable of a word you were writing, the grip on your ballpoint pen loosening as it fell from your hand, landing with a soft thud onto your notebook.

your eyes widened, a shock passing by, before you closed them. an exasperated sigh escaped from your lips, your hand moving to hold your forehead as you propped an elbow onto the desk, leaning forward.

you were doing it again.

your mind was wandering off to him.

him with hair as white as the late december snow that fell in tokyo.

him with those beautiful, soul-piercing, blue eyes that were reminiscent of a clear sky on a summer’s day in august.

him with that damned blindfold, which he always took off in your presence because he knew how much you loved his eyes.

him and that—

no. stop it, [name].

he’s nothing but an old flame.

well, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past year and four months—not like anyone’s counting—since you left him behind.

ever since december began, he’s been on your mind. he’d randomly pop up at the most inconvenient moments. you’d see his favourite bakery, walk past his favourite stores in the mall, or spot something you knew he’d like.

opening your eyes, you lifted your head from your hand. you leaned against the backrest of your chair, arms lazily placed on the armrests with your hands resting downwards, and your head tilted upwards the dim-lit ceiling.

there was only one reason behind this.

your hand found its way to the pocket of your sweatpants, pulling out your phone, and bringing it up to your face. your thumb pressed the power button for a second, the blue light of your phone emitting onto your face.

and there it was—the reason you’ve been behaving the way you have for the past six days—plain as day.

00:57

Saturday, 7 December

Calendar・my love ♡

instantly, you pushed yourself forward once more, dropping your phone onto the desk amidst the scattered paperwork. you fell back into your previous position, elbow propped on the desk, hand pressed against your forehead. your free arm lay flat on the desk, fingertips tapping rhythmically on the wooden surface.

the home screen of your phone staring at you with that fucking notification glaring at you.

if it had been anyone else you cut ties with, and if you’d forgotten to erase traces of them on your phone, you would've swiped left—out of sight, out of mind. hell, you would’ve deleted it the moment it came across your screen.

if it had been any other day—and not the fucking 7th of december—you wouldn’t have cared. there wouldn’t have been a second thought. not even a last thought, as that would mean it’s still a thought.

you wouldn’t be sitting here, staring at your phone, wondering what he’d say to you, wondering if it would be a huge mistake if you…

should you…?

should you call him on his birthday?

you bit your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, and stopped tapping your fingers. once again, you leaned back into your chair, your phone in your hand this time with your thumb hovering over the screen.

you could call him, just to make sure he’s okay.

or would he prefer that you didn’t—prefer that you simply let him go?

before you could consider anything, you sat up straight, your thumb swiped across the screen. your thumb swiped across the screen, and with swift movements, you entered your pin and clicked on contacts, scrolling down until you found it.

gojō satoru ・090-xxxx-xxxx

his old number.

but is it even working?

a/n: happy birthday to gojō satoru !! <33 happy gojō satoru day, everyone !! especially to the gojō satoru lovers <33

iʼd say this is my contribution but itʼs a sad fic (?) (also the mentioned song helped me write this, of course).

regardless, i hope this is enjoyable to whoever comes across it !! :)

much love from me to you ♡

[leading-inpherno]

-> An elderly female demon entered Thieves' Den, staring around with curious eyes. This wasn't HER Thieves' Den and she knew it, but she couldn't help but be curious. - @windswept-ocs [WOODSTAFF]

Glory is rearranging things in their semi-outdoor office, their second set of smaller insect arms flexing slightly as they move some things from their bamboo bookshelf.

Lanterns hang overhead, the furniture is made of bamboo & light colored woods, earthy & natural decor adorning the bookshelves & tables. There are weapons & other sharp objects displayed on the wall, & flora in the shape of the Thieves Den logo.

They don't seem to notice the other leader. Glory is also in a less casual 'mode', their blindfold off, being discarded on their desk.

[karmiya]

I actually do a lot of research and am collecting what may one day be an entire bookshelf's worth of reference books, so I thought I'd share one. This is my pride and joy, at least as far as research goes:

To Live as Long as Heaven and Earth is a translation of the Shenxian Zhuan, a series of biographies of Daoist immortals by Ge Hong. The (extensive) introduction by Professor Campany also includes a lot of the translator's own research, drawing on various sources in order to provide a good overview of practices attributed to Daoists in common folklore. If you're interested in the Xianxia and Wuxia genres and their origins, I think this is an invaluable English-language text. Its focus is entirely on traditional beliefs, but through it you can see just how much of the modern fantasy genre in China is based entirely on traditional folklore.

The images of talismans, for example, are extremely familiar to any viewers of modern fantasy dramas or donghua. These look very similar to the talismans we see in the Modao Zushi donghua, don't they?

This is a really interesting little section describing levels of ascendance. It's a lot simpler than modern novels with their million stages of core formation, isn't it? (Though, to be fair, most novels I read are by authors who don't care to get into that level of detail and focus on characters and storytelling, thank goodness!) The 'tianxian' sound a bit like heavenly officials in more recent stories, don't they, whereas the dixian are regular immortal cultivators who still live on earth. The use of shijie (corpse simulacrums) meanwhile, seems to mainly be maintained as a means of faking one's death, not as a means of escaping the notice of the officials of the underworld!

The main paths of immortality outlined in Ge Hong's work are: internal cultivation, external cultivation (alchemy), the arts of the bedchamber, and diet. The first three are very familiar, but I've noticed that diet-based cultivation shows up much more rarely in modern stories. I can only immediately think of Ye Baiyi from Word of Honour, who begins to age again after descending from the mountains and imbibing mortal food once more.

One thing I found interesting is that most accounts of immortals flying either depict them doing so under their own power, or placing a talisman within a bamboo staff and flying on that (or sending some poor soul on a sudden trip across the country!). Flying swords seem to be a much more modern convention.

One thing that's really amusing to me is how much energy the author (Ge Hong, not the translator) dedicated to poking fun at Confucius and Confucianism. Even though the three major religions eventually became known as the Three Teachings and are in modern terms viewed as very harmonious and complementary, historically there was often a huge amount of religious tension. Confucians and Daoists bickered with each other a lot, and then Buddhists got into the fray as well as Buddhism became more and more popular in East Asia. While Buddhism was present in China in Ge Hong's time, it had yet to reach its later popularity; this is probably why Buddhism is barely mentioned in Ge Hong's writing. There are a few indirect references and borrowings from Buddhist tales, and Professor Campany posits that some were intentionally used in competition with Buddhism, while others may have been added by later compilers/transcribers of the text who were Buddhists themselves.

A lot of Cnovels depict this sort of religious tension (Thousand Autumns is a good example), and it's really interesting to see that in these translated historical texts. Even though there are plenty of texts I can't get access to and/or wouldn't be able to read in the original language, there is a huge amount of English-language and translated scholarship on Chinese history available. A lot of it is fascinating to read from a perspective of a fan of Chinese fantasy, since the genre draws so heavily on real history and folklore.

[queer-reader-07]

Hi! 💕

For the ask game:

orchid, bamboo, mahonia, sage and nutmeg

Sorry its a lot lol, you can just pick your favorites lol.

hi!! i love having multiple to answer <3

send me asks!!

orchid: what's a song you consider to be perfect?

i'm a slut for hozier first, human second

bamboo: do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

not usually tbh. i usually keep the same stuff on all day unless i've suddenly gotten really uncomfortable and/or dysphoric at some point in the day.

mahonia: what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

oooh i love this one! honestly my friends inspire me most! like seeing the art they make (drawing, writing, poetry, etc) always makes me want to do art! especially when i read the stuff my friends write i'm always like "oh maybe i should get back to that piece i haven't touched in 2 months"

sage: what medium of art is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

music 100%. especially when experienced live. there is something so raw in song writing i think, the way feelings and pain and love and joy can be wrapped in lyricism. it sounds nice when you're just hearing it, but when you truly start to listen it starts hitting you deeper and harder in your chest.

live music especially feels so personal and intimate, even in a large theater. being in a room full of people who know all the lyrics, singing along to these songs about love and joy and loss and the feral energy of life is enough to make me cry in a really human way.

nutmeg: how's your room decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

i do not have a cohesive theme or style in any aspect of my life lmao. one of my friends described my room by saying that "it looks like the inside of [my] brain" which has always stuck with me. i have drawings up on one wall and song lyrics printed on metallic painted cardboard above my desk. there's a movie poster for star wars by my bookshelf and a dune poster next to a foldout magazine poster of the jwst pillars of creation. i have crucifixes adorned with rosaries above my bed because i'm not catholic but they give me some twisted form of comfort and they're next to the photos of my friends and i.

it's messy an incoherent but it's so very Me.

[interstellarmoons]

My Perfect Hologram (Not Meant To Be, But Thank You)

Recently hurt, lost, and afraid

I saw you standing over there

Appearing to come to my aid

Though seemingly part of a pair

“Just friends” I hoped to myself

So easy to talk and relate to

Like a rare read on a bookshelf

Perusing veins of each other’s bamboo

I though that you could be it

The other part of my cracked half

It was indeed her that you were with

But thank you, my perfect hologram

[accidental-spice]

Top 5 obscure objects in your house (decorative or functional, idk)

A wooden giraffe on top of the bookshelf

Essential oil shelf

Jar full of beach glass

My dying bamboo plant

An old explosives case that now holds movies

Thanks for the ask!!

[khudrang]

The shutter sound snaps and captures the linear streams of golden drenching the luscious green in an almost palpable sheen, reminding me of the treacles of honey being deposited on awaiting squares of flakiness. The scenery mimics my iris, where I let it linger for a little longer. Walking into the room, the dreary does not pass my sensibilities, and I step back out to let the warm currents pierce me once again. 

The following day, my fortune takes a bow and I visit a dwelling that itself dwelled in my heart since I was child. My heart skips a beat upon witnessing it in its full glory; perhaps it went back to the time the residence took foundation. The red tiled roof against the bleach white walls, like the dusk bleeding its farewell on a blanket of fresh snow. Creepers mark the path, and the rows of petaled jewels usher me into that archive of an abode. Stepping in, I’m first greeted with the scent of limestone, followed by a waft of jasmine, perhaps from the incense, perhaps from the silver braid of the woman of the house. The space is suspended in a time before, and I can feel myself regress to a cooler summer with every passing second. The shelves around the room are chock full of reminders; reminders to hone, reminders to seek, reminders of benevolence, reminders of spirit, reminders of patronage, reminders to create, and reminders of decay. Each merchandise on those stone shelves loudly boasted of its fineness; the meticulously weaved threads, the highly refined and finished edges, the laboriously carved impressions, the tanned leather beaming with its glossy surface. If you kneeled closer to the ground, however, perhaps to feel strands of a bamboo basket on your fingertips, you would hear the quiet pleas running through these prideful declarations; the plea to be saved from extinction. 

A tinkering from the adjacent room grabs my attention, and I float towards it as if in a state of hypnosis. My eyes bear witness to a figment of my imagination; the sunrays from yesterday tip their hats through the windows near the ceiling, greeting me once again in an unbending, militant fashion. They lay to rest, as if spent from their journey of lightyears, on the glorious wooden swing that resides in the middle of the room like an unyielding but nurturing patriarch. Two hangings of earth lamps flank the swing and sway lightly in the breeze entering the room, making that soft tinkling noise, mimicking the rightly analogous fireflies. There is a painting of an infantile holy figure on the left wall, its blue striking against the copper lap that is perched right above it. 

As I was leaving, I noticed another characteristic of houses from the bygone era: the high ceilings, which make anyone standing under them feel invincible, make them feel as tall as the walls themselves, and offer them plenty of space to explore and make mistakes. It is exactly the kind of place tradition and heritage would prosper in. While I walked out with my arms full of many commodities, I also walked out with a lingering question; these symbols of craftsmanship that will now adorn my bookshelf, that adorn the dresser of another, and that adorned the rooms of that fantastic house, will they get lost in time or passed down with it? Do they represent the time gone, or how it stands still while the world goes by?

@hindumyththoughts (since you asked to be a part of my taglist :D)

[lilja4ever]

I think i am. bamboo ambient orange lighting midcentury bookshelf tea leaf navy blue dark brown wood finish humid with dark skies girl

[tameblog]

February 04, 2025 Let’s explore the last 5 homes on the 10th annual Tribeza Interiors Tour, a tour of Austin homes that shows off the work of interior designers. This is part 3 of my coverage of the late January tour. (Click for part 1 and part 2 if you want to start there.) Sparrow Interiors At the Sparrow Interiors home in Tarrytown, a red divan under a contemporary portrait grabs your attention in the entry. Echoing touches of red appear in a wood-paneled sitting room (pictured at top), where twin blue sofas face each other. A lighthearted dining room features a pink gallery wall and branch chandelier. This, however, is the dining area I was most drawn to: a round table and banquette with moody blue-and-purple upholstery. A black Murano glass chandelier adds to the goth-romantic vibe. A bar area featured furry wallpaper, Wonderwoods by Arte, that had tour-goers exclaiming and touching it. I’ve seen textured wallpaper, but faux fur is next level. Pastel cranes, deer, and dogs rove under cloud-like trees against a black field. Check out Sparrow’s portfolio for more pics of this bold space. A 3rd dining area confused me — was this a guest wing? — until a docent explained that this curtained space is part of a pool house, with a wall of windows that slides open to make an open-air cabana. Again, check out the designer’s portfolio to see how it all fits together. The beautiful drapery fabric reminds me of Marcia Donahue’s bamboo sculptures. The pool house bathroom is dramatic and spendy with a wallpapered ceiling and vertical tile completely covering the walls. A skylight in the shower brightens the shades-of-brown room. The ceiling is wallpapered with Hoopoe Leaves by Cole & Son. Outside, a pair of beautifully cushioned sofas offers space for lounging by the pool and watching a game. Looking back at the main house, you see two more spaces for enjoying the backyard, a dining deck and covered patio. The patio’s rattan swivel chairs didn’t appear comfortable, so I sat in one to see. Looks are deceiving — it was so comfortable! Lavender and blue fabrics harmonize with the banquette dining area just beyond the window. An elegant powder room draws you in with emerald Greek key wallpaper — It’s Greek to Me by Phillip Jeffries. Gem-like pendants add more glowing green. Clayton Korte At the Clayton Korte house, I admired a front sitting room-turned-library. Floor-to-ceiling corner windows bring the outdoors into the room. Square-framed bookshelves display books and decor. A pillowy chair and a reading table offer options for where to crack a book. Bookshelf styling with Bill Ding stackable clowns. Remember these? This is an art lover’s home, with folk art ceramics and small paintings — including a Lance Letscher pinwheel collage — making a bigger-than-the-sum-of-its-parts display. I was intrigued by a series of cowboy scenes painted on plastic bags. What does it signify? A disposable culture? The Old West living on in microplastics? The ultimate in reuse? I’d like to know more. Jazzy tile in the kitchen includes a wavy pattern on the floor and silvery gray zellige tile curving around the range hood. A retro, bubble-gum pink fridge adds a playful touch. Countertop bouquet and copper pans A bathroom wowed me with floor-to-ceiling penny tile. It even wrapped around tricky framing of the tray ceiling! I can’t remember what this room was — maybe a supply closet? — but I enjoyed the yellow sink and silvery wallpaper, Fruit by Morris & Co. Word art in the hallway brought to mind the recent wildfires in Los Angeles. But upon reflection it evokes for me a drought-stricken West Texas landscape. A commentary on climate change? A restful primary bedroom… …and glam copper tub framed by watery green zellige tile. Peeking out the kitchen window, I admired a calm evergreen plant palette, contemporary paving, and lacy breeze block wall screening the carport. It’s the work of Lattice Studio, recently rebranded from Austin’s Big Red Sun. Heading to the car, I got a closer look through a steel-framed wire fence. I like the trough fountain with copper spout and gently curved stone path in the gravel. BANDD/DESIGN Interiors At the BANDD/DESIGN Interiors home, I admired this bathroom’s Morris & Co.‘s Pimpernel wallpaper, blue stacked tile, and a leather-wrapped mirror and baskets. The airy dining room overlooks a garden patio. And an airy, white bedroom gets cozier with a canopy bed, boucle chairs, and beaded chandelier. The home office got lots of attention with Victorian-style wallpaper swooping down from the ceiling to the top of green-paneled walls. This is Spoonflower’s New Heights paper — really pretty. Pink chinoiserie wallpaper — Avignon by Wallpaperie + The Leslie Style — makes for a dreamy bedroom. A wicker bed and burlap chandelier add natural texture. Avignon detail Cuppett Kilpatrick At the Cuppett Kilpatrick home in Rollingwood, I was drawn to a cozy, textured sofa with gray and mauve pillows. Tactile art above it harmonizes perfectly. The big picture window frames a view of handsome live oaks. A kids’ art table and colorful framed art occupy a nearby alcove. A minimalist tablescape is elevated with a gorgeous GUBI Tynell 1972 Pendant Light with pleated-bamboo shade. An upstairs deck offers a view of a multi-level backyard with artificial lawn… …and a concrete slide and stairs leading down to a putting green. I’m glad to see some living plants on the slope and along the fence. An upstairs den is anchored by a large Cruz Ortiz painting — a cowpoke Hamlet with Yorick skull? In the primary bath, mirrors are suspended in front of a large window. In a girl’s bedroom, Kelly Ventura‘s Shade Blossom pattern appears on the walls, Roman shades, and bedding, set off with sage green trim. The trim color is Sherwin-Williams Oyster Bay… …according to a handy spec sheet from the designers. A window with a treehouse view of the live oaks makes a perfect spot for a reading nook. I’d never leave this spot. Another child’s bedroom features blue bunk beds in a green-painted alcove. Ashley Ferguson Interiors I thought I might not have time to see the Ashley Ferguson Interiors house out on Lake Austin, but I made it with 30 minutes to spare. Perched on a steep hillside, the house invites you in via a long stair to the door, which opens onto this floral scene. The painting is by Ali McNabney-Stevens, I think. A moody dining room gives a ’70s vibe. The light looks like a Murano Pebble Pendant by Fabio. A sitting room off the kitchen features four blue armchairs. And a powder bath goes dramatic with a dark-veined sink and raspberry zellige tile. That’s a wrap on my coverage of the 2025 Tribeza Interiors Tour. It was a good one! To read Part 1, click here. And click here for Part 2. I welcome your comments. Please scroll to the end of this post to leave one. If you’re reading in an email, click here to visit Digging and find the comment box at the end of each post. And hey, did someone forward this email to you, and you want to subscribe? Click here to get Digging delivered directly to your inbox! __________________________ Digging Deeper Attend the annual Budding Out Plant Sale & Festival on March 15th at the John Fairey Garden in Hempstead. Shop for rare plants from the garden’s nursery and select plant vendors. Local artists and artisans as well as food, drink, and demonstrations will also be featured. Admission: $5 for members, $10 for non-members, children under 12 free. Hours: 10 am to 4 pm; members get early admission at 9 am (memberships available on day of event). Come learn about gardening and design at Garden Spark! I organize in-person talks by inspiring designers, landscape architects, authors, and gardeners a few times a year in Austin. These are limited-attendance events that sell out quickly, so join the Garden Spark email list to be notified in advance; simply click this link and ask to be added. Read all about the Season 8 lineup here! All material © 2025 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Source link