my endless numbered days

[lazygreys]

[lazygreys]

Kuniyoshi 'The Marvellous Doctor' Woodblock print, 1850

[miamaimania]

Iris van Herpen Spring/Summer 2017 ꩜ Wave-like optical illusion dress

[dame-de-pique]

Cecile Seler-Sachs - Mexico: Cactus en forma de candelero, Oaxaca, n.d.

[lazygreys]

L'absence diminue les médiocres passions, et augmente les grandes, comme le vent éteint les bougies, et allume le feu

[mollyjames]

Always embarrassing realizing you don't know basic facts about your friends. Like yeah hey, here's this person I love dearly, I've known them for 23 years, we've been through so much together. They're currently working in a lab.... developing... medicine? and also getting a PhD. I think. Don't ask me what subject.

[jareckiworld]

Bill Miller — Morning Coffee (pieces vintage linoleum on panel, 2021)

[lazygreys]

If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze into you

[slowianskosci]

Gdańsk Stocznia

[gacougnol]

Harold Edgerton

Tumblers, 1942

[lazygreys]

This summer the roses are blue; the wood is of glass. The earth, draped in its verdant cloak, makes as little impression upon me as a ghost. It is living and ceasing to live which are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.

[rearte2]

by Richard Nadler

[urgetocreate]

Richard Nadler (b.1987 in Penzberg, Germany), ArchiTextures, Digital illustration

[lazygreys]

I will show you fear in a handful of dust

[lazygreys]

What do you see? What do you feel? Is it suffering or bliss that keeps you suspended in space?

[1five1two]

'Shimmering Water and Bare Reefs'. Bu Jun (Pu-chun). 2014. Ink and color on paper.

[lazygreys]

[cinematokgraph]

[lazygreys]

“…silent rooms where one’s footsteps are absorbed by carpets so thick, so heavy, that no sound reaches one’s ear, as if the very ear of him walks on… once again along those corridors, through these salons and galleries in this edifice of a bygone era, this sprawling, sumptuous, baroque, gloomy hotel, where one endless corridor follows another, silent empty corridors, heavy with cold, dark woodwork, stucco, moulded panelling, marble, black mirrors, dark-toned portraits, columns, sculpted door-frames, rows of doorways, galleries, side corridors, that in turn lead to empty salons, salons heavy with ornamentation of a bygone era…as if the ground were still sand or gravel or flagstones over which I walked once again…as if in search of you between walls laden with woodwork…among which even then I was waiting for you…far from this setting in which I now find myself standing before you waiting for the man who will not be coming now, who is not likely to come now to part us again, to tear you away from me. Will you come?”