[weirdvintage]

Dusty Anderson, 1944 (via A Certain Cinema)

[weirdvintage]

Marilyn Monroe with turkey, 1950 (via Lomography)

[nevver]

Up all night, Clarissa Bonet

[caravaggista]

Herbert James Draper, The Lament for Icarus (1898), detail. 

[halloweenhorrorsqueen]

[tinyghosthands]

“If prose is a house, poetry is a man on fire running quite fast through it" -Anne Carson

[loveage-moondream]

[earth2amy]

In the blossom of the months I was sure that I'd get driven off with thought So I swallowed all of it As I realized there was no one who could kiss away my shit

[ryagosling]

Michelle Williams photographed by Collier Schorr for Vanity Fair

[mayglobus]

[hemmingsmotornews]

Sunset Coral 1956 Ford Thunderbird for sale on Hemmings.com.

[pigmenting]

“I want / to be like the cactus fields / I drove through in Arizona. / If I am a cactus, be the cactus / I grow next to, arms up, / every day, let me face you, / every day of my cactus life.”

— Aracelis Girmay, from “I’m Not Ready to Die Yet” in Kingdom Animalia

[kafk-a]

Aracelis Girmay

[nevver]

Orange you glad

[theoryoflostthings]

“Once I was on earth and I liked it. I got to look at my toes underwater. They looked bigger than they were in real life. As anyone can tell by looking at it sugar is meaningless. You are not supposed to stay in the hot tub longer than ten minutes. After that it is meaningless. Like white poinsettias. I mean at Christmas. Maybe Christmas is meaningless too but we used to pretend it was not and I liked that. It’s pointless. I don’t actually know what a football looks like. I think they have something to do with babies. The man is carrying a baby across a field. He is trying to save it. It’s hard. Sometimes people die trying to do things. That’s OK. There are things more important than life or death. I miss holding my breath.”

— Mary Ruefle, Elegy for a Game

[nevver]

Return to Magenta, Indigo

[1000drawings]

by avogado6

[decadentlullaby]