ANDROMEDA.

“She is like the shadow of a white rose in a mirror of silver.”

[commedessgarcons]

Ebonee Davis at the Harpers Bazaar Icons event styled by (IG) AlDotG

[infected]

Castle Amerongen, Netherlands, photos by Henk Vrehen

[anditslove]

[boxdyed]

More Concept Playlists

+ You walk out of your shitty roadside motel room that you’ve been staying in since you ran away from home. It hasn’t been cleaned since the 50s but at least no one will find you out here, in the middle of the desert. You head towards the ice machine, but someone is already there. It’s the most popular girl in school, who you’ve had a crush on since 6th grade. She’s run away too.

+ You and your fed-up punk friends attempt to summon a demon at your all girls catholic boarding school, determined to wreck some wacky havoc on the oppressive staff. But the fun doesn’t last long as you realize you have unleashed something far more sinister. Something that doesn’t slam doors or break windows but drips deep into your psyche and reveals the meaning of pure evil.

+ The year is 1987, You’re part of a ragtag band of misfits that have been friends since childhood. All of you are gay, but no one has admitted it yet so rifts are forming in the gang. One summer morning you roller skate over to your best friend, the only other girl in the groups house to tell her you’re in love with her. Will it tear group apart once and for all or bring you back together?

+ You’re 17 and in love with your manic pixie dream girl of a best friend. It’s a wednesday night in early june and you can’t sleep because all you can think about is her stupid perfect crooked smile and just when you think you can’t stand it anymore you hear a tapping at your window. You open it and there she is, with that smile. She asks you if you want to go on an adventure. You’ve never wanted anything more.  

+ July is the season of rabid dogs. There’s something about the constantness of the heat that drives spikes into the head. This year there’s a new plague: the teenage girls. They are sick. The are restless. They are hungry. Their bare feet burn on the hot concrete but they won’t stop until they have tasted the blood of every abusive man in town.

+  You and your closest friends sit on the roof of your suburban house watching the sunset. The crisp, nearly-autumn breeze blows against your oversized hoodie while you sip cheap, lukewarm beer from a paper bag. No one says anything, no one has to.

+ It’s 1:30 am and you’re driving out of the city with your girlfriend asleep in the passenger seat. there are lights glowing on the highway and in the city behind you but it feels like it’s just the two of you, and you wish it could last forever

+ The year is 1975. The Russians went ahead and nuked us and well, just about everyone died. But don’t worry! There were a few survivors. You and your gang find yourselves with the entirety of west Hollywood all to yourselves and nothing keeping you from the thousands of mansions and all the goodies they might hold

+ You’re on the road with a crappy RV you bought somewhere sketchy with your best friend and her dog on the trip of a lifetime trying to make it as a bluegrass singer. You fall in love over crumpled maps, roadside lemonade, campfire sing alongs, and grimy dive bars where you pay for meals by washing dishes.

+ You walk into your room, satin gown flowing in your wake,You dramatically collapse into a dark velvet chair as if the cameras are rolling. You put on a record and pour your fourth glass of red wine. Your fifth husband has mysteriously died, good thing he left everything to you in the will.

+ You’re at a Halloween party in the basement of a seedy punk club, so wasted you can’t see straight. The ground starts shaking. More than it was before, are you imagining it? No. The bands screaming has gone from angry to terrified. The apocalypse is happening right now.

+ You stand in front of the house at the edge of town. The house with boarded up windows. The house with broken glass in the yard instead of flowers, like everyone else in your small misty mountain town. The house no one talks about. The house you only go when you have nowhere else to go. You have someone to find in there, someone you need to bring home.

+ Is there any place better to dissociate than a roller rink?

+ Everything is perfect here. It’s a nice cabin, tucked away in the depths of the Ozarks. The lake is right out back so she can swim whenever she wants. Swimming makes her happy. And all of this is to make her happy. This morning you wake up early to watch the sun rise over the water. It’s a perfect morning for a perfect place, golden light seeping through everything. Highlighting orange starting to creep into the leaves. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s almost October. Yes, this place is perfect. But it’s time to go home.

+ You’re a music producer who died overdosing on cocaine at a club in the 70s. You awaken in the exact spot you died in the year 2073. You’re hungry, thirsty, and hornier than you’ve ever been. But most importantly, you look as fly as you always have and you’re surrounded by beautiful women.

+ She’s an urban witch. A drugstore sorceress, mixing potions of Xanax and gasoline. Selling them on a street corner in the east village. No one knows her name, few know her face, But they say you’ll know her when you see her. You approach her on a chilled November night and offer a pack of cigarettes for a love potion. Hands shaking with anxiety and cold. She looks you in the eye and tells you you don’t need love potion. She’ll give you everything you want for free.

+ My boyfriend Oliver. I know this isn’t a concept but he’s super cute and i love him so let me live……DM me if you wanna see pics

+ You’re driving through the depths of the Appalachian mountains on a foggy night. You see a dark figure with glowing eyes up ahead at the edge of your headlights and your heart stops beating. No. It can’t be him…. He wasn’t supposed to be able to find you all the way up here I. You get closer and your shoulders relax, It’s just an old man. He smiles when you pass, his milky eyes reflecting back at you like stars. probably just a friendly local out for a late night stroll. You’re safe. It’s fine. Only 10 miles to go. Your engine dies the moment you realize that human eyes dont glow.

+ You’re a nerd, a nobody, the kid who sits by herself at lunch. The kid who never talks and never gets noticed by anyone. Yet here you are, dressed in your big sisters clothes, standing in the coolest girl in schools living room while a party rages around you. Tonight you’re going to be cool. Tonight you’re going to be the life of the party. Tonight she’s finally going to realize you exist. This is either the bravest thing you’ve ever done or the stupidest.

+ You’ve been climbing the mountain for three days and three nights. Out of food, out of water, and utterly, painfully alone. Just when you think you can walk no farther, you hear a waterfall in the distance. With your remaining ounce of strength you launch yourself the final few yards. You collapse to your knees and peer into the clear, cool water. But Instead of seeing your face your entire life is reflected back at you.

[leonardcohenofficial]

more concept playlists

you’re in your first apartment and it’s too small and it’s raining and you’re a little stoned, but your succulents and the sound of raindrops hitting the window are gently comforting

you are cursed to live in an abandoned church that has been overgrown with vines and filled with damp earth. you spend your days with sun-bleached deer bones and your nights with the ghost of a young man, whose lips are always just barely too cold on your neck

you’re twelve years old, and you and your weird but likable neighbor have decided to go on a road trip (i.e. however far you can get on your bikes before it gets dark and your mom calls you home because the pizza’s here), so you blast your boombox as you ride off down the road

it’s 1988 and you’re at a shitty house party and not feeling it, so you make eye contact with the girl who likes the smiths a little too much and decide to go make out with her in the bathroom

it’s midnight and you’re drinking shitty coffee in a rundown diner that’s nearly empty. you think this place may only exist after 11PM. in fact, you think this place may not really exist at all

[more playlists here]

[boxdyed]

Concept Playlists

As Requested 

+ You walk out of your shitty roadside motel room that you’ve been staying in since you ran away from home. It hasn’t been cleaned since the 50s but at least no one will find you out here, in the middle of the desert. You head towards the ice machine, but someone is already there. It’s the most popular girl in school, who you’ve had a crush on since 6th grade. She’s run away too. 

+ The year is 1987, You’re part of a ragtag band of misfits that have been friends since childhood. All of you are gay, but no one has admitted it yet so rifts are forming in the gang. One summer morning you roller skate over to your best friend, the only other girl in the groups house to tell her you’re in love with her. Will it tear group apart once and for all or bring you back together? 

+  You and your closest friends sit on the roof of your suburban house watching the sunset. The crisp, nearly-autumn breeze blows against your over sized hoodie while you sip cheap, lukewarm beer from a paper bag. No one says anything, no one has to. 

+ It’s 1:30 am and you’re driving out of the city with your girlfriend asleep in the passenger seat. there are lights glowing on the highway and in the city behind you but it feels like its just the two of you, and you wish it could last forever

+ You’re on the road with a crappy RV you bought somewhere sketchy with your best friend and her dog on the trip of a lifetime trying to make it as a bluegrass singer. You fall in love over crumpled maps, roadside lemonade, campfire sing alongs, and grimy dive bars where you pay for meals by washing dishes. 

+ You walk into your room, satin gown flowing in your wake,You dramatically collapse into a dark velvet chair as if the cameras are rolling. You put on a record and pour your fourth glass of red wine. Your fifth husband has mysteriously died, good thing he left everything to you in the will.

+ You’re at a Halloween party in the basement of a seedy punk club, so wasted you can’t see straight. The ground starts shaking. More than it was before, are you imagining it? No. The bands screaming has gone from angry to terrified. The apocalypse is happening right now. 

+ You stand in front of the house at the edge of town. The house with boarded up windows. The house with broken glass in the yard instead of flowers, like everyone else in your small misty mountain town. The house no one talks about. The house you only go when you have no where else to go. You have someone to find in there, someone you need to bring home. 

+ You’re a music producer who died overdosing on cocaine at a club in the 70s. You awaken in the exact spot you died in the year 2073. Youre hungry, thirsty, and hornier than you’ve ever been. But most importantly, you look as fly as you always have and you’re surrounded by beautiful women. 

+ She’s an urban witch. A drugstore sorceress, mixing potions of Xanax and gasoline. Selling them on a street corner in the east village. No one knows her name, few know her face, But they say you’ll know her when you see her. You approach her on a chilled November night and offer a pack of cigarettes for a love potion. Hands shaking with anxiety and cold. She looks you in the eye and tells you you don’t need love potion. She’ll give you everything you want for free. 

+ You’re a nerd, a nobody, the kid who sits by herself at lunch. The kid who never talks and never gets noticed by anyone. Yet here you are, dressed in your big sisters clothes, standing in the coolest girl in schools living room while a party rages around you. Tonight you’re going to be cool. Tonight you’re going to be the life of the party. Tonight she’s finally going to realize you exist. This is either the bravest thing you’ve ever done or the stupidest.

+ You’ve been climbing the mountain for three days and three nights. Out of food, out of water, and utterly, painfully alone. Just when you think you can walk no farther, you hear a waterfall in the distance. With your remaining ounce of strength you launch yourself the final few yards. You collapse to your knees and peer into the clear, cool water. But Instead of seeing your face your entire life is reflected back at you. 

[winterblues]

concept playlists part ii

it’s the year 2077 & you’re at a nightclub in tokyo with your best friend, you’re both on the run from a group of rebels but you feel safe in this little neon corner of nowhere so when a robot waiter offers you a strawberry daiquiri you accept it you’re a tourist on mars & you’re trying to contact home but the signal is really crappy so you just end up buying yourself an icecream sundae & waiting in this strange alien queue to buy an interstellar sim card you’re in a small virginian town that was wiped off the map several years ago housesitting for a mysterious neighbor when you find a secret passageway in their library, you have no idea where it leads but you’re curious to take a look  you’re in victorian england & you’re walking down a path adorned with the warm aureate glow of gaslights & it’s snowing softly & you have your hands buried deep in your coat pockets while somewhere in the distance, someone announces that the queen is dead you meet god at a gas station at 3.03 am & he asks you if you want to go for a motorcycle ride with him & when you say yes he warns you that he’s about to introduce you to things you can never unknow 

you’re in love with a ghost who shows up in all your household mirrors & keeps turning off the kitchen light but one night you realize that you’re the one that’s been doing all the haunting  it’s a rehab centre for celestial beings, where angels with dying halos flitter past & talk to you of stars, you love working this job, learning about the woes of a dozen flighty beings, & they endow you with their strength & light in return you’re stuck in a time loop inside of a 80′s horror flick and your entire world feels like it’s glitching around you nothing is real except for your strange lover with eyes like moonlight calling you to come back to bed  you’re at an island at midnight all by yourself, the night sky is so clear the sea reflects the star-matted sky, a salty breeze lifts your hair, you breathe in deep & dream of someone beautiful coming to your rescue

xtras: hotmess / midyouth crisis / mud puppy / lucid dreaming

[winterblues]

concept playlists;

you’re lying on mossy forest floors, slowly transforming into a nymph, your fingers are turning into flower vines, your limbs are bleeding honey & growing thick skins of sepia bark, wings sprout in between your shoulder blades. your breath sounds like the wind. fireflies litter the air above you

you’re hold up in an abandoned church, outside there’s a raging storm & a horde of zombies roaming around, pressing up against the entrance doors. you & a small band of survivors are staying inside for the night in hopes to ride the bad weather out. you take first watch & listen to these tunes on an old ipod while everyone else tries to get some rest & the undead crawl outside, awaiting the taste of human flesh.

you’re in your boyfriend’s pickup. he’s asleep in the passenger seat, you’re driving without a destination in mind & you have the window down as you let the cool night air whip against your face in a state of pleasant delirium you’re on a rooftop somewhere, there’s 5 am air on your skin, streetlights glint like coins at the bottom of wishing wells from where you sit. you’re feeling peaceful for the first time all week

you’re lying in the middle of a crop circle forty miles from your grandma’s old house waiting for aliens to come and abduct you

it’s four pm in the afternoon and you’ve got your head in the lap of the only boy you’ve ever loved & you’re reading jane eyre & he’s sipping on tea & it’s the kind of weather where it’s just warm enough for you to pretend it’s summer & it’s drizzling & you’re listening to the rain beat softly against the windowpanes you’re curled up in bed as it pours outside, there’s a citywide blackout and the last candle you had left has finally blown out, but you feel strangely at peace within the warm, all-consuming dark

you’re making out in the bathroom of a house party with someone that makes you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun you’re standing amidst a city you burned to the ground. the apocalypse has come & gone. all that’s left is ashes & mortar & sad bones but you’re feeling empowered. a slow smile creeps up your lips as you realize how you’ve always wanted to watch the world burn you wander into wonderland and now you’re suddenly being crowned fairie queen, apparently there’s a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled  it’s mid morning but it’s dark outside from the rain. you thought the tapping on the window was from the rain but it’s actually a crow that flickers out of sight when you look directly at it you’re sipping on cherry cola by the pool on a lazy sunday & you’re feeling younger than you’ve ever been you’re summoning old ghosts in an abandoned parking lot on a smoggy thursday night

[eyesofdovesbytheriversofwaters]

if the gods don’t make me a constellation after i die i will rise from the dead and unleash hell on earth

[r-siken-deactivated20210531]

landscape with a blur of conquerors, richard siken

[quotemadness]

“We don’t even ask for happiness, just a little less pain.”

— Charles Bukowski (via quotemadness)

[moongloss]

Delicate lace For Love & Lemons blouses

[wishbzne-deactivated20210526]

“The moon is hanging over the earth, meaningless but full of messages. It’s dead, it’s always been dead, but it pretends to be something else, burning like a star, and convincingly, so that you feel sometimes it could actually make something grow on earth. If there’s an image of the soul, I think that’s what it is.”

— Louise Glück, from A Village Life

[unchildhood]

THE CRUCIBLE x KELLY AKASHI

Arthur Miller, The Crucible (1953)

Kelly Akashi, sculptures, Bound (2017) + Feel Me (2017)

[sixpenceee]

Van Gogh’s lesser known (but no less beautiful) original Starry Night - Starry Night Over the Rhone

[oceans90s-deactivated20210616]

[weltenwellen]

“Love! What had I to love? Oh many things: there was the moonshine, and the bright stars; the breezes and the refreshing rains; there was the whole earth and the sky that covers it: (…).”

— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein