CACOETHES

kakəˈwēT͟Hēz noun-rare an irresistible urge to do something inadvisable. instagram; cacoethes

[perksofboho]

Poppykalas - Rosehead #3 (2024)

Oil on canvas

[jareckiworld]

Julia Curyło — Eye of the Universe (oil and acrylic on canvas, 2025)

[weepingwidar]

Phoebe Little (American, 1992) - Complicit Tomato (2021)

[unsubconscious]

Ilan Baruch, ‘Cactus’, 2017 Oil on canvas, 46 × 48cm

[unsubconscious]

Giuseppe Penone (Italian, b.1947), ‘The Hidden Life Within’, Cèdre de Versailles, 2013.

[unsubconscious]

Rachael Bos, Hearts Beat Askew Oil on canvas, 76 x 101cm

[unsubconscious]

Lace artwork by Ágnes Herczeg, 2016

[unsubconscious]

Pair of ‘Ginkgo’ Chairs by Claude Lalanne, 1999

[unsubconscious]

Glen Martin Taylor

[unsubconscious]

Jürgen Klauke

[unsubconscious]

Adolph Menzel (German, 1815-1905) Studio Wall, 1872 Oil on canvas, 111 cm × 79.3 cm

[unsubconscious]

Dennis Miller Bunker (American, 1861-1890) Pink Rose ca. 1886, oil on canvas

[petaltexturedskies]

Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated 19 March 1931, featured in The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. IV 1927-1931

[1five1two]

[tacecortuum]

breathe in, my love

[elisaenglish]

What Can I Say? You Have Me

“It was the thirst of many years restrained in our body. Chained words which we could not say except on the lips of dreams. Everything was surrounded by the green miracle of the landscape of your body. Upon your form, the lashes of the flowers responded to my touch, the murmur of streams. There was all manner of fruits in the juice of your lips, the blood of the pomegranate, the horizon of the mammee and the purified pineapple. I pressed you against my breast and the prodigy of your form penetrated all my blood through the tips of my fingers. Smell of oak essence, memories of walnut, green breath of ash tree. Horizon and landscapes. I traced them with a kiss. Oblivion of words will form the exact language for understanding the glances of our closed eyes. You are here, intangible and you are all the universe which I shape into the space of my room.”

-Frida Kahlo, The Diary of Frida Kahlo: An Intimate Self-Portrait-

Love came, fear went—that time, I married your conviction to the courage in my bed. Hence now, forever...

[elisaenglish]

-Ana Rodrigues, Poetry of Love (2023)-