#sublimeness

[unspokenmantra]

drived out aside the city to make some oil flow in the motor/engine, a classic of mine, and then exactly at the turning back point had to stop to register that precious sunset, damn it was so fucking beautiful!!!!

[January 15, 2026]

[unspokenmantra]

My big windows and Moon beautifully giving a show 💫✨🌕🌖🫠 🖤

[unspokenmantra]

The photo of a polar bear napping on an iceberg won the Wildlife Photographer of the Year award. The click was taken by an amateur British photographer called Nima Sarikhani in Norway. _ A foto de um urso polar cochilando em um iceberg foi a vencedora do prêmio Wildlife Photographer of the Year. Nome do(a) autor(a): Nima Sarikhani, foto tirada na Noruega.

🖤🖤🖤

via Natural History Museum.

[unspokenmantra]

"The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?"The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Between the iron gates of fate The seeds of time were sown And watered by the deeds of those Who know and who are known Knowledges are a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools

The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams Upon the instruments of death The sunlight brightly gleams When every man is torn apart With nightmares and with dreams Will no one lay the laurel wreath When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Crying Crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Crying"

[aragamah]

“That physical sensation, a shiver induced by the mere sight of a thing, is the elusive charge sought after, rarely achieved, and even more difficult to sustain by any artists trafficking in the allure of images. This is the ineffable dimension of art often labeled “the sublime.” Thought of this way, fine art is a kind of secular religion. Indeed, the emotional tone of the best artworks can honestly be described as spiritual though not purposely driven by ecumenical intent.”

Kerry James Marshall  “A Black Artist Named White” in The Paris Review