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ojovivo
Janaina Medeiros
Cosimo Galluzzi
we're not kids anymore.
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noise dept.
trying on a metaphor
Kaledo Art
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Kiana Khansmith
#extradirty
h
Andulka
Mike Driver
roma★
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taylor price
seen from Malaysia
seen from Iraq
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
@shehasflowers
“...so I pulled the sun down and crushed it, cold vanilla nights settling, and that’s just what you made me feel like. all at once. I wasn’t able to show those feelings. through all the atoms and winds and carbon bodies on the planet earth, there was no combination existing that was enough to become what you felt like.”
- Aria Utt, “A Collection of Words That Look Pretty Together; Part II”
“I made the sun rise for you. I pulled the deepest of energies from the planes of the earth and with the last of my strength, formed the core of the burning sun with my fragile hands, now with skin burnt and flayed. for you. I fell for you, and the tears I cried filled the seas and lakes and oceans with salty water. sometimes the rain is just. there. you meant the world to me, and so I created it, abandoning the enslaving formless box of what existence should look like. it was just for you. just for you.”
- Aria Utt, “A Collection of Words That Look Pretty Together; Part I”
Rest your forehead against mine in a field at sunrise.
date a boy who knows the bookstores with the best classics and vintage sections
september will be kind. september will be magical. september will bring the missing energy. september will be working towards our goals and self. september will be a month full of growth.
I need a dramatic and passionate romance from a lover who is as obsessed with me as I am with them. serious inquires only.
“Imagine a woman in the long skirts and high collar of the early 20th century standing in front of the painting she created. It is a massive piece—about 10 feet tall by 8 feet wide—and it is not a landscape, a portrait, a still life, nor a scene from myth or history. Dominating the composition is a bold yellow form reminiscent of a plant or sea creature, glowing amid colorful, biomorphic shapes and vigorous lines. This is just one of 10 such works that she has created almost entirely alone—sometimes walking on her work as she lays down the paint—and one of 193 radically abstract paintings that she has made in a few short years, between 1906 and 1915. None of these details fit with the story told in museums and art history courses. We know the first abstract painters so well that we often refer to them by last names alone: Kandinsky, Malevich, Mondrian. We know who is celebrated for doing “action painting” on giant canvases laid on the floor—Pollock. Each of these men has been lauded for opening a way into new territory. As it turns out, that territory had already been explored by another artist. Her name was Hilma af Klint.”
— Who Was Hilma af Klint?: At the Guggenheim, Paintings by an Artist Ahead of Her Time by Caitlin Dover
THE FUCK
It gets even better.
“The city and sunset colored pink, the world awash with rosy glow, and music continuous,”
— Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Myron Lotz written c. June 1953
me putting a comma where it doesn’t belong: it’s sexy, it’s spicy, it adds a twist, a little color, a little interest
Hedy Lamarr, Crossroads, 1942
July’s sun left blisters on my skin
My last strain of idealistic optimism drips from my consciousness in a salty bead of sweat onto the hot concrete, left to bake
The papules left slowly to heal, encasing nothing but a hazy and naive sense of security
No more guarantees
No gratuities
Unbound and apathetic
Let loose and exactly what you asked for
August fell and the sky had opened and had roared to mark this–whatever “this” is
The thunder pounded at my skull and left me in dissociation
The only thing I have left is my waning grasp on phlegm
All I long for now is the weather to break as I have
An itchy knit and a warm cigarette while I am slowly preserved before my body rots and turns to an offensive bubbling semifluid on the streets of Manhattan
No auxiliary ray of sunshine to pull me in the cool rejuvenating pool on the dog days of Summer going by
This is August
This is August.
Rye (8/8/19) // midwesternproper
me: :(
the moon: 🌙
me: :)
how do people have consistent fun at parties . like don’t they get hit with periodic waves of debilitating melancholy and subsequently need to sit outside and think abt how they’re going 2 die alone . or is that just me and the guy from the National
Palace of Versailles. France
La partie de cartes by Pierre Carrier-Belleuse.♡
Forget pulling all-nighters and chugging coffee until it’s practically coursing through your veins. You know what gets me hyped up? Earl Grey tea on slow sunny mornings after a good night’s sleep. Submitting an assignment early, knowing you’ve completed it to the best of your ability. Reading for pleasure. That feeling of limbless relaxation after a good workout. Unearthing all your buried interests and falling in love with them over and over again.
Repeat after me: success is not suffering. Success is nOT-
