#the tempest

[tomoleary]

Edmund Dulac (1882–1953) “Ariel and the Bee” Shakespeare's Comedy of The Tempest (1908) Source

[shakespeare-guy-anon]

some genderbends here too it's sooo cool

notably ariel and gonzalo!!!!? i love it a lot

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Some poetry by our buddy Will Shakespeare, from "The Tempest" Act 5: Prospero is done with his rough magic!

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid— Weak masters though ye be—I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And ’twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure; and, when I have required Some heavenly music,—which even now I do,— To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.

[historiasyletrass]

"I would not wish any companion in the world but you." - William Shakespeare

[eliotqueliot]

Hale Appleman singing "Full Fathom Five" as Ariel in The Tempest

View this post on Instagram

[softanxiouspatton]

Read The Tempest again. Still no clue what the fuck is happening except Ariel is a funky lil being doing their cool magic and trickster shit to get their freedom.

[sveetnn]

" I imagine us seeing everything from another place — the top of one of the pale dunes or the deep and nameless fields of the sea — and what we see is the world that cannot cherish us but which we cherish, and what we see is our life moving like that, along the dark edges of everything — "

Oliver, Mary. "Coming home." Dream Work, 1986