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graouli:

Étude sur le phénomène de l’amour, technique mixte sur papier, 38 x 56 cm. Par Stéphanie Béliveau.

(Source: azurea, via how-fascinating)

moma:

Odilon Redon, born today in 1840, was known for his fantastical, enigmatic imagery. 

[Odilon Redon. "L’Oeil, comme un ballon bizarre se dirige vers l’infini (The Eye Like a Strange Balloon Mounts Toward Infinity)." 1882.]

(via darksilenceinsuburbia)

(Source: lamorbidezza, via qock)

shihlun:

Roland Topor, Les Masochistes, 1960.

(Source: keepyoureyesshut, via chaoschaos)

queerlibido:

if you are not already familiar with sohil bhatia’s work then please fix your life: http://caution-wetfloor.tumblr.com/

(Source: caution-wetfloor)

(Source: caution-wetfloor, via evwuevwu)

(Source: depresstacon)

" The first day it feels like fall
I want to tell my secrets
recklessly until there is nothing
you don’t know that would make
your heart change years from now.
How foolish we are to believe
we might outlive this distance.
I don’t know names for things
in the prairie, where the expanse
of light and the hissing of tall stalks
make me move slowly,
like in another country before
I must share it with anyone.
In what do you believe?
In September’s slight motion
of particulars, in the weight of birds,
in lust, propulsion, maps
that lie.You should not have loved
me.
Now: goldenrod, prairie-clover,
the ovate-leafed bluebell with its open
throat saying how did you expect
to feel?
Colonies of prairie-smoke
and pods turning golden and papery,
the grassy plains iterating patience,
and things I cannot name.
Begin with apples reddening.
Begin with a woman touching
the cities in your feet.
Hartford,
Anchorage, the Bronx. Did you ever
see yourself as more
than yourself?
I walk into a part
of afternoon that deepens
inventing an endpoint
for sadness. Everyone is gone.
On the subject of deception,
where do you stand?
There’s a chill
in the air and the flowers know,
the goddamned flowers, their loosed
color. Sometimes we are cruel
and we mean it. We author the house
with its threadbare linens, the false
miniatures of people saying look at me.
Will the landscape forgive you?
Is it yours to describe? What
is the sound inside your mouth?

I’m surrounded by grasslands
in every direction. The sound
is a clamoring, because desire
is never singular and we want it
this way. We want it easy.
I have already let go
of summer. Here, the wind—
dispersal of seeds and story. Love,
there are things I cannot name. "

- Stacie Cassarino, from Midwest Eclogue (via violentwavesofemotion)

therumpus:

Here’s today’s Daily GIF!

(Source: illhaveuknowthatiloveyou)

neutralmilkandhoney:

mymodernmet:

Iranian photographer Hossein Fatemi, offers a glimpse of an entirely different side to Iran than the image usually broadcasted by domestic and foreign media. In his photo series An Iranian Journey, many of the photographs reveal an Iran that most people never see, presenting an eye-opening look at the amazing diversity and contrasts that exist in the country.

Very happy about this

(via how-fascinating)

"

Dear employers, I will have to take the day off today because:

☐ It’s December and the streets are papier-mached with wet bronze leaves and it’s so dark outside that the cars have their headlights on at 3pm

☐ I have recently been through a breakup, or I have been through a breakup at any time in my life really, and I woke up today with the absolute conviction that I will never be loved again

☐ A dog looked at me

☐ I got a text from someone for whom I feel a mix of concern and frustration and recognition and longing that is both more and less than romance

☐ Someone made a joke about dead pets meeting you in heaven

☐ Daylight savings time

☐ I passed a knot of flowers that were so bright they glowed through the dim grey water of the day and when was anything in my life last that luminous?

☐ Girls are too pretty

☐ For the first time I genuinely comprehend that there is not enough time to have all the lives I wanted

☐ I accidentally listened to Leonard Cohen

"

blue-voids:

Inez and Vinoodh - A Rose of Flesh, 2009

(via radiationphotography)

literarypancakes:

John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836-1893) was a Victorian-era painter, notable for his moonlit scenes and landscapes.

(Source: mydarkenedeyes, via kill3r-smil3z)