Robert Newton (British, 1964) - A Darkening Landscape (n.d.)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
trying on a metaphor

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$LAYYYTER

No title available

⁂
Claire Keane
occasionally subtle

#extradirty
Mike Driver
Keni
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

★
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
No title available
DEAR READER

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@dereklomas
Robert Newton (British, 1964) - A Darkening Landscape (n.d.)
Richard C. Miller, James Dean Behind The Scenes in Makeup Chair, on the Set of Giant, Marfa, Texas, 1955
Louis Cunningham by Phil Sharp
Denis Boulze
Always Crucial Fix (ACF)
Photo: Dapper Lou
https://www.instagram.com/lukasz_pik/
Amedeo Modigliani Portrait of Maude Abrantes 1907
Richard Avedon James Baldwin, New York City 1963
In a strange house, a strange bed in a strange town, a very strange me is waiting for you. Now it is very early in the morning. The silence is loud. The baby is walking about with his foaming bottle, making strange sounds and deciding, after all, to be my friend. You arrive tonight. How dull time is! How empty—and yet, since I am sitting here, lying here, walking up and down here, waiting, I see that time’s cruel ability to make one wait is time’s reality. I see your hair which I call red. I lie here in this bed. Someone teased me once, a friend of ours— saying that I saw your hair red because I was not thinking of the hair on your head. Someone also told me, a long time ago: my father said to me, It is a terrible thing, son, to fall into the hands of the living God. Now, I know what he was saying. I could not have seen red before finding myself in this strange, this waiting bed. Nor had my naked eye suggested that colour was created by the light falling, now, on me, in this strange bed, waiting where no one has ever rested! The streets, I observe, are wintry. It feels like snow. Starlings circle in the sky, conspiring, together, and alone, unspeakable journeys into and out of the light. I know I will see you tonight. And snow may fall enough to freeze our tongues and scald our eyes. We may never be found again! Just as the birds above our heads circling are singing, knowing that, in what lies before them, the always unknown passage, wind, water, air, the failing light the failing night the blinding sun they must get the journey done. Listen. They have wings and voices are making choices are using what they have. They are aware that, on long journeys, each bears the other, whirring, stirring love occurring in the middle of the terrifying air.
– James Baldwin, “Munich, Winter 1973 (for Y.S.)
Dave Heath New York City c.1960
Richard Avedon Bianca Jagger, Hollywood
Nadja Auermann by Ralph Mecke
The Abyss (detail) Pietro Canonica 1909
Orson Welles as Macbeth, 1948, photo by Roman Freulich
Jane Fonda in They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (Sidney Pollack, 1969). This performance resulted in Fonda’s first Oscar nomination. She won the next year for Klute.
Kevin, New York City, Photo by David Armstrong, 1977