Flor de Lis @esqua-dros - Tumblr Blog

“[…] his soul had regained its strength as soon as he had re-possessed himself of his tools; those instruments and books which had grown on him like new senses, new organs, stronger and finer than those with which nature had endowed him.”

— August Strindberg, from By the Open Sea (Penguin Classics, 1890)

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August Strindberg (Swedish, 1849-1912)

WONDERLAND - oil on panel - 1894

“During quiet moments, I paint. In order to master the material, I choose a medium-sized canvas or preferably a panel, so that I can complete the painting in two or three hours, as long as my inspiration lasts. I am seized by whatever subject comes to mind. I picture a shadowy forest, and beyond the sun setting over the sea… . with the palette knife that I use for the purpose – I own no brushes! – I spread the paints over the panel, and there I blend them so that I have something approaching a depiction of the scene. The hole in the middle of the canvas represents the sea horizon; now the forest interior expands outwards, branches, treetops grouped into colors, fourteen, fifteen, random but always harmonious. The canvas is covered; I step back and look! Well I never! I cannot make out any sea. The illuminated hole shows an endless perspective of pink and blue-tinged light, where airy, incorporeal, unfathomable beings float about like fairies trailing clouds. The forest has become a dark, subterranean cavern choked by undergrowth: and the foreground – let us see what we have there – rocks covered in lichens that you will not find anywhere else – and there to the right the knife has slicked the paints too much, so that they are like reflections on water – look at that! It is a pond. Excellent! What now? Above the water there is a splash of white and pink whose origin and meaning I cannot explain. One moment! – a rose! – The knife works for two seconds and the pond is ringed with roses, so many roses! A light touch of the finger here and there blends together the intractable colors, they melt together and dispel the harsh shades, thin them out, dissolve them, and there is the painting! … The art of the future (which will disappear like everything else!). Capturing the essence of nature; above all capturing nature’s creativity!” ~ from August Strindberg, “The New Arts! or The Role of Chance in Artistic Creation”, National Museum exhibition catalogue, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Paris, 2001 pp. 180–182.

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August Strindberg, Miss Julie

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Isabelle Adjani performing in the August Strindberg play ‘Miss Julie’ at the Théâtre Édouard VII in Paris, 1983

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August Strindberg (Swedish, 1849‑1912), Blommande mur [Flowering Wall], probably 1903. Oil on canvas, 51.5 x 36.5 cm.

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The Birch Tree I (Autumn), 1902 by August Strindberg (Swedish, 1849–1912)

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August Strindberg, Celestographs, 1893–4

Photoplates (made without a camera) capturing the night sky

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sucumbir-se

“Porque quando eu passo um dia sem falar com você… Esse dia não é bom.”

— How I Met Your Mother

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“É foda quando você quer conversar com alguém e não pode. Fica aquele sentimento agonizando, aquela fisgada no coração. Uma mistura de coisas. Abre janela, fecha janela. Ouve uma musica ali, aqui, lembranças, sorrisos, lagrimas, raiva e um turbilhão de sensações ao mesmo tempo, sei lá. Eu só não queria sentir tanto a sua falta, sabe?”

— Nathalia Calazans