It has been a very long time.
Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

if i look back, i am lost
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Product Placement

Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever
styofa doing anything

⁂
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
hello vonnie
dirt enthusiast
h
NASA
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art
will byers stan first human second

seen from United States
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@anunituinuruk
It has been a very long time.
The Sirens’ song, Wilhelm Kray
Marie Prevost photographed by Edward Thayer Monroe, 1923
A diagram illustrating the role of light and shadow in painting and drawing, acceptable in the Victorian era but not on Tumblr in the 21st century.
The Sleep of Sorrow and the Dream of Joy | Photo by Scott Wylie on Flickr
www.mirrormirrorworldworld.com
Before deleting my previously-beloved Tumblr site on December 17 I’ll revisit some favorite ostensibly pornographic photos & paintings from the past seven (very pleasant) years.
Kansas Farmer, Topeka, Kansas, February 6, 1896
Everyone reblog this as much as possible over the next two weeks for good luck
Alpine flowers for gardens. 1910 ed. Book cover.
Portrait of a Gardener and Horn Player in the Household of the Emperor Francis I, Albert Schindler, 1836
Jose Royo
‘Girl in a Satin Dress with Roses.’ Gelatin silver print by Gertrude Käsebier (1852–1934).
Image and text courtesy MFA Boston.
Into the Woods (2014)
Alexandre-Auguste Hirsch (1833-1912), Night
But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror’s magic sights, For often thro’ the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, came from Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead Came two young lovers lately wed; ‘I am half sick of shadows,’ said The Lady of Shalott.
She left the web, she left the loom She made three paces thro’ the room She saw the water-flower bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look’d down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack’d from side to side; 'The curse is come upon me,’ cried The Lady of Shalott.
With a steady stony glance— Like some bold seer in a trance, Beholding all his own mischance, Mute, with a glassy countenance— She look’d down to Camelot. It was the closing of the day: She loos’d the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott.