Smart Art

www.smartartgalleries.com

[smartartgalleries]

“So little of what could happen does happen.” Salvador Dalí

[hauntedbystorytelling]

Henri Cartier-Bresson :: Italian artist Leonor Fini, Paris, 1932-33 / more [+] by this photographer

related image of L. Fini by HCB, here

[smartartgalleries]

"The politics of those whose goal is beyond time are always pacific; it is the idolaters of past and future, of reactionary memory and Utopian dream, who do the persecuting and make the wars." Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy, 1945

[paintingispoetry]

John William Waterhouse, The Siren ca. 1900

[smartartgalleries]

“Only a soul full of despair can ever attain serenity and, to be in despair, you must have loved a good deal and still love the world.” Blaise Cendrars

[smartartgalleries]

Lochside Cottage Scotland - Original Oil Painting by David Renshaw 28"x 28" (Available from Smart Art Galleries)

[the60sbazaar]

Song of the Day 

What Have They Done To The Rain? - Marianne Faithfull 

[ozu-teapot]

Scorpio Rising - Kenneth Anger - 1964

[zumzeig]

William S. Burroughs

Naked Lunch

Russia 2003

[xshayarsha]

“It is through art, and through art only, that we can realize our perfection; through art and art only that we can shield ourselves from the sordid perils of actual existence.” (The Critic as Artist, 1891. Oscar Wilde.)

[immortart]

René Magritte, Memory, 1948.

[smartartgalleries]

ELATION-ELEGANCE-EXALTATION- All from God. Thank you God. Amen.

John Coltrane - December 1964

[sharingpoetry]

Mina Loy, "One O'Clock at Night"

Though you have never possessed me I have belonged to you since the beginning of time And sleepily I sit on your chair beside you Leaning against your shoulder And your careless arm across my back gesticulates As your indisputable male voice      roars Through my brain and my body Arguing “Dynamic Decomposition” Of which I understand nothing Sleepily And the only less male voice of your brother pugilist of the intellect Booms      as it seems to me      so sleepy Across an interval of a thousand miles An interim of a thousand years But you who make more noise than any man in the world when you clear your throat Deafening      wake me And I catch the thread of the argument Immediately assuming my personal mental attitude And cease to be a woman Beautiful halfhour of being a mere woman The animal woman Understanding nothing of man But mastery       and the security of imparted physical heat Indifferent to cerebral gymnastics Or regarding them as the self-indulgent play of children Or the thunder of alien gods But you wake me up Anyhow       who am I that I should criticize your theories of “Plastic Velocity” “Let us go home       she is tired       and wants to go to bed.”

From “Three Moments in Paris”

(submitted by breanna-girl)

[afroui]

Charles Baudelaire | by Felix Nadar 1855

[bad-sounds]

Crass - Penis Envy

[smartartgalleries]

“How could men get fat by being bad and starve by being good? I thought and thought about my vision, and it made me very sad.” John G. Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks: The Complete Edition

[smartartgalleries]

The poets are supposed to liberate the words – not chain them in phrases. Who told the poets they were supposed to think? Poets are meant to sing and to make words sing. Writers don't own their words. Since when do words belong to anybody? 'Your very own words,' indeed! And who are you? Brion Gysin, Brion Gysin Let the Mice In