Alien Nature

🫧🌟 Art and life and tattoos and myth 🪷 30 🪷 Starchambertattoos

[nobrashfestivity]

ISHIKAWA Toraji 

 Ten types of female nudes (Rajo Jusshu 裸女十種) series

 (1934) colour woodblock National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

with preliminary blocks 1

regular version here

[antiqueanimals]

Животные холодных стран, 1926. Illustrated by Alexey Komarov.

source

[polkadotmotmot]

Sarah Williams - East Curtis Street, 2025 - Oil on board

[shootingfromthehip]

[thingsfromthedirt]

Ukraine's National Museum of Folk Architecture and Life (2008)

[milksockets]

janet groenert in ornament magazine autumn 1991

[milksockets]

'blade runner' shot by david lachapelle in vogue paris dec/jan 1994-5

[weepingwidar]

Elbert Joseph Perez (US-American, 1991) - Mail Just Piles Up (2025)

[milksockets]

'the hitcher: a cautionary tale' shot by guy aroch in detour magazine october 1998

[patronsaintofweepingmothers]

"spring colors..glamarella junk" (2009), sherry mattia-welch

[deathandmysticism]

Life and death, 1873

[weltenwellen]

Ellen Bass, “The Thing Is”, Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems

[orange--fiction]

La Pianiste ( The Piano Teacher ) | Michael Haneke | 2001

[enchantedbook]

From the ballet "La Tragédie de Salomé", performed by the Ballets Russes.

Illustration by George Barbier, 1914, from an album dedicated to the Russian ballerina Tamara Karsavina.

[redlipstickresurrected]

Sümeyra Yüce aka Sum de la Créme (Turkish, b. 1996, Osmaniye, Turkey) - Today is not my Day, 2022, Painting

[iamheavymeta-lll]

[bellatotallynotfromtwilight]

I can’t shake the feeling that my life is going to start morphing into into a very different shape.

This move is the biggest I’ve had in 7 years. I have this sensation that my life is tumble weed and I’m picking up strands of plants and dirt as I go. I’m picking up speed and my life is hurtling into a new direction.

Im so antsy about the change and I dread it at the same time. I love where I live and I love my life. Yet, there’s an eerie feeling, like I’ve stayed too long. Stagnant. Unsure is there’s anywhere else is in this direction to explore.

But then Beth mentions the art barn or Melissa tells me about an idea for an event, or Rosa talks about the new shelves at Mac’s and my heart aches. I think of my dad, and this version of him, and how hard I’ve worked to be able to laugh with him. And to know what he’s reading. And what he thinks of his library, and how he finds the books. He’d never been to the second floor until we went together.

It feels like to linger would create a ghost of me. Yet, my heart is interwoven with my family and friends and the land here. To unweave it would surely damage it.

Can I move to Chicago for a year or two, will I want to come back? I’m scared I will go and never return, and lose all that I’ve built. It feels so heavy to carry it with me. I can’t even entertain what building another life could look like, it may be to different in the ways I hate or love. But either way, I will move out of Gigis. Either way time will pass and the weeds will grow tall and a landlord will cut them down because he doesn’t appreciate the wildness of them. I will re plant myself.