Feed Your Head

[junkicide]

Régis Moulun

[dennybitte]

by Denny Bitte

[junkicide]

daniel martin diaz

[junkicide]

the dancer disappears and only the dance remains

[junkicide]

हे स्पर्ष वितळणारे

ह्या वार्यात

[procgencode]

[procgencode]

[junkicide]

james gurney

[junkicide]

The city of Soltaniyeh by Bosnian-born polymath Matrakçi Nasuh

[trulyvincent]

Moebius drawings & sketches

[chezniimura-deactivated20210427]

Promotional illustrations for Hermes’ perfume “Voyage”.

Pure Moebius in action.

[noosphe-re]

We are all burnt by ultraviolet rays. We all contain water in about the same ratio as Earth does, and salt water in the same ratio that the oceans do. We are poems about the hyperobject Earth.

Timothy Morton (via inthenoosphere)

[leftoversalad]

[asexualbrigadier]

JESSE: EVERYTHING THAT WE KNOW AND LOVE IS REDUCIBLE TO THE ABSURD ACTS OF CHEMICALS, AND THERE IS THEREFORE NO INTRINSIC VALUE IN THIS MATERIAL UNIVERSE.

JAMES: HYPOCRITE THAT YOU ARE, FOR YOU TRUST THE CHEMICALS IN YOUR BRAIN TO TELL YOU THEY ARE CHEMICALS. ALL KNOWLEDGE IS ULTIMATELY BASED ON THAT WHICH WE CANNOT PROVE. WILL YOU FIGHT? OR WILL YOU PERISH LIKE A HERDIER?

MEOWTH: I LIKED THE OLD OATH BETTER…

[ka-waltz]

holy shit

[noosphe-re]

Instead of seeing a form made up of separate frames, what if geometry has its own lucid mobility?

Cecil Balmond

[noosphe-re]

…the primary form of mathematical communication is not description but injunction… Music is a similar art form, the composer does not even attempt to describe the set of sounds he has in mind, much less the set of feelings occasioned through them, but writes down a set of commands which, if they are obeyed by the performer, can result in a reproduction, to the listener, of the composer’s original experience.

G. Spencer-Brown, Laws of Form

[junkicide]

Van Gogh did not die of a state of delirium proper, but of having been bodily the field of a problem about which the iniquitous spirit of that mankind has struggled since the beginning of things, that of the predominance of flesh over mind, or of body over flesh, or of mind over both. And where is the place of the human self in this delirium? Van Gogh sought his own self all his life, with a strange energy and determination. And he did not commit suicide in a fit of madness, in the terror of being unsuccessful, but on the contrary he had just succeeded and had just discovered what he was and who he was, when the general consciousness of society, in order to punish him for having torn himself away from it, suicided him.

Antonin Artaud

[jamesreads]

the world is generous to those who explore their personal legend.