via
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
d e v o n

izzy's playlists!
Cosimo Galluzzi

Love Begins

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art
DEAR READER
Today's Document
taylor price
No title available
Peter Solarz

Kaledo Art
Sweet Seals For You, Always
sheepfilms
RMH
dirt enthusiast
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from South Korea
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
@andromedes
via
A tragedy is the story of a human growing into his death mask. What has been done is too total to be undone, or even regretted; it defines the doer once and for all and renders the future impossible. (Macbeth is the story of Macbeth growing into his regicide, even as his wife collapses under it; the hesitant hen-pecked man of the first act becomes a monstrous king with burning eyes, master of the deed that mastered him.) The tragic hero attains something like divine completeness, except that for human beings completeness is death. So the ubiquitous counsel of the chorus concerning the hero—look what fortune has done here, she used to be on top of the world, don’t count on happiness, don’t believe anyone happy until he is dead—says more than it seems to. In the last analysis, what can one say of mere mortals? A human is just too partial, too speckled and subject and already-half-gone, for anything to be really true or false of him. Is he happy, is she sad? Maybe, a bit, for a time, but really—who can say, who can even care? That’s how it is for humans, unless and until they are tragic. The tragic hero is complete. You can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. For an instant he is something like divine. And then he dies, because there’s nothing left to do. The center of every tragedy is the image of a human being who has already died but keeps talking, someone whose face is a mask. Antigone says this explicitly—she is already dead; Oedipus acts it out in gouging out his eyes.
Michael Kinnucan, “The Gods Show Up” (via smakkabagms)
A beautiful set of illustrations for Dracula by Marta Bertello
Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body (2013)
@vilicity
Goddess of memory.
Lucille Clifton, from The Book of Light; “Here Yet Be Dragons”
fuck summer i want it to be dark and misty and frigid and october
Stavropoleos Monastery, Bucharest, Romania
— María Negroni, ‘The Exemplary Theater of Sadness’ Dark Museum (translated by Michelle Gil-Montero)
Goddess of love and harmony.
Alejandra Pizarnik, tr. by Yvette Siegert, from “Someone Falls in a First Fall”, Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972
ig: edi.bee
Italy
mythology meme: ares
❝ But Athena, eyes bright, taking Ares in hand, called the violent god away with: “Ares, Ares, destroyer of men, reeking blood, stormer of ramparts, why not let these mortals fight it out for themselves? Let Zeus give glory to either side he chooses. We’ll stay clear and escape the Father’s rage.” ❞ ― Homer, The Iliad
Solitude (2014)
I need to stay here alone.