1993 guerrilla marquee by Jenny Holzer who fought the good fight on 42nd street âfore they tore it down.Â

Andulka
Three Goblin Art
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes

tannertan36
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AnasAbdin

@theartofmadeline

Love Begins

Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n

Discoholic đȘ©
Show & Tell

JVL
Keni
I'd rather be in outer space đž
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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@acokewithu
1993 guerrilla marquee by Jenny Holzer who fought the good fight on 42nd street âfore they tore it down.Â
Hiroo Isono
HirĆ Isono (Japanese 1945-2013), Acrylic on canvas
richard hell's apartment (via)
John Steinbeck, East of Eden
The Long and Short of It, Richard Siken
Nature held me close and seemed to find no fault with me. (Stone Butch Blues, Leslie Feinberg)
'Light Ghazal', by Hala Alyan
Iâm terrible at parties, secrets, and money. I want my stars sexy: fast light thatâs prophetic. No nonsense about physics, refraction, past light.
Even in Barcelona, I canât turn a bike. I let you change my mind: free will and wet hair. One night, I let you pour white wine. I drink its aghast light.
Happy now? Weâre both like thisâfull of risk and nowhere to put it. We sidle up to strangers with dry cigarettes and ask, Light?
I want small churches and noisy continents. I want you. I want you better. I want you moved by what moves me: God, glass, light.
You like the line about men bored with beautiful women, as though boredomâs the prize, as though those peonies werenât a gaslight.
Itâs O.K. I play dumb. I count codes under my breath. I circle you like a devoted planet. I see the whiskey bottle. I forecast light.
Iâm a better gambler than wife: the house fills with music and your singing. Dear enabler. Dear truce. I know you see the moonâs steadfast light.
I know you remember Madrid, Istanbul, pinecones, that trip to Iceland. How every midnight had a sun. How we clung to its last light.
Marie Howe, from âThe Copper Beachâ, What the Living Do
[text id: One day, I heard the sound before I saw it, rain fell / darkening the sidewalk. / Sitting close to the center, not very high in the / branches, / I heard it hitting the high leaves, and I was happy / watching it happen without it happening to me. /end ID]
AnaĂŻs Nin's library.
Vincent van Gogh ~ Garden of a Bathhouse, 1888
[Source: vangoghmuseum.nl]
sandro botticelli, dante and beatrice in stars
A not admitting of the wound (1188) by Emily Dickinson
Leila Chatti, âI Too Was Worthy,â in Wildness Before Something Sublime
Albert Camus, from a letter to MarĂa Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959
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