🗡️

the sleeping princess in the barrow

[forked-tongue-blasphemer]

Caterpillar

Cambridge University Library, Kk.4.25 [Bestiary (Third Family)], c. 1230. folio 98r.

[kosmogrl]

[lavenderlion]

I love you, crowsfeet; I love you, gray hairs; I love you, sun spots; I love you, smile lines; I love you, crinkle between my eyebrows; I love you, crooked smile; I love you, visible signs of a life lived

[lustcannibalism]

[socialfoto]

[rn-deliabusby]

flickr

[firstfullmoon]

Gabrielle Calvocoressi, “No Poems Today,” in The New Economy

[pmamtraveller]

by Jena Jun

[soap-stones]

no thoughts, only the mussel border around bishop ambrose in the hours of catherine of cleves (ny, morgan library ms 917/945)

[troileandtubble]

transparent png of the mussel border around bishop ambrose in the hours of catherine of cleves (ny, morgan library ms 917/945) for your thoughts

[lucybellwood]

hi sorry s'cuse me but were NONE OF YOU GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT BLACK BOOKS OF HOURS???

LOOK AT THIS MAGNIFICENT GOTH-ASS SHIT

EGADDDDDDD

THE IRON-COPPER SOLUTION USED TO DYE THE PAGES WAS SO CORROSIVE THAT THERE ARE VERY FEW SURVIVING EXAMPLES

THESE BOOKS WERE LITERALLY TOO METAL TO LIVE

i can't

[gremlininho]

looking. at you

[dailyclassicart]

Oscar Herschend - "Dark Skies Looming over a Coastal Village"

[miamaimania]

“The Garden of Earthly Delights” (c. 1500) by Hieronymus Bosch

[90377]

  by Kristian Skybak

[fallintoblue]

“Maybe it was the smell of ripe tomatoes, or the oriole singing, or that certain slant of light on a yellow afternoon and the beans hanging thick around me. It just came to me in a wash of happiness that made me laugh out loud, startling the chickadees who were picking at the sunflowers, raining black and white hulls on the ground. I knew it with a certainty as warm and clear as the September sunshine. The land loves us back. She loves us with beans and tomatoes, with roasting ears and blackberries and birdsongs. By a shower of gifts and a heavy rain of lessons. She provides for us and teaches us to provide for ourselves. That’s what good mothers do.”

— Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

[thecolorblockcurator]

Pleasant Valley, William Howe Foote 

[riotkittiesarchive]

from the poem Songs of Ourselves, by Susan Edwards