Ana

à flor da pele

[pmamtraveller]

Cupid and Psyche — Auguste Rodin

[throatoftheworld]

Elixirs of Absence by Hisham Echafaki

[mangamaga]

Count Umberto Morra di Lavriano’s villa in Cortona, Italy.

[barcarole]

Hands of German composer Carl Orff with his score for Antigonae - a musical setting after Hölderlin’s translation of the Sophocles tragedy, 1955, by Herbert List.

[cherryshoota]

[pmamtraveller]

The Bite, by Edvard Munch (1914)

[lamignonette]

[soleilinfini]

mary oliver, staying alive

[pinkblanc]

early 1900s handmade bookmark

[quotesfrombooksarchive]

I have nothing to tell you, save that it is to you that I tell this nothing

A Lover's Discourse, Roland Barthes [Trans. Richard Howard]

[petaltexturedskies]

One day you’ll have whatever it is you’re now so confusedly seeking. That kind of calm that comes from knowing oneself and others. But you can’t rush the arrival of that state of mind. There are things you only learn when no one teaches them. And that’s how it is with life. There’s even more beauty in discovering it for yourself, in spite of the suffering.

Clarice Lispector, from “Gertrudes asks for advice” in The Complete Stories

[classicalcanvas]

Weeping Willow (1919) by Claude Monet

[kirsanof]

Bois ton café, Éric Rohmer

[soracities]

Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch (trans. Gregory Rabassa)

[Text ID: “As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard.”]

[lamignonette]

[lesbianartandartists]

Morgan Gwenwald, Butch/Fem Picnic

[twothousandeight]

1. Roland Barthes, The Pleasure of the Text, trans. Richard Miller

2. George Bataille, Erotism: Death And Sensuality, trans. Mary Dalwood