*serious face*
Almost packed, tomorrow at 11.50 I’m heading first to Qatar and then to Thailand. Don’t expect too much activity here for the next month & wish me luck.
Love ya folks.

09.29.14 @ 23:138

*serious face*

Almost packed, tomorrow at 11.50 I’m heading first to Qatar and then to Thailand. Don’t expect too much activity here for the next month & wish me luck.

Love ya folks.

thirdorgan:

Maria Chiara Toni (Italia, Porto Mantovano, 1950)
Deposito Di Manager 1995

09.29.14 @ 11:1644

thirdorgan:

Maria Chiara Toni (Italia, Porto Mantovano, 1950)

Deposito Di Manager 1995

doriansgrays:

Triptych–August 1972 by Francis Bacon was painted in memory of Bacon’s lover George Dyer who committed suicide on 24 October 1971, the eve of the artist’s retrospective at Paris’s Grand Palais, then the highest honour Bacon had received.

Dyer is presented as literally a man falling apart. His body is mutilated; the black border dissolves into his body in both, leaving a void in place of large parts of his torso. In contrast he seems to be melting, leaving blobs of flesh on the ground beneath him. Bacon described this effect as portraying “the life flowing out of him”.

Bacon never recovered from Dyer’s suicide and from then on his work became haunted by an awareness of loss, death and the effects of passage of time on those around him. He later admitted that “… although one is never exorcised, because people say you forget about death … you don’t … time doesn’t heal. But you concentrate on something which was an obsession, and what you would have put into your obsession you put into work.”

From Left:

Triptych–August 1972 (left panel) by Francis Bacon

George Dyer in the Reece Mews Studio (1964) by John Deakin

~   Haiku, Allen Ginsberg

hey thanks Alice for this song if you’re reading it

fluttering-slips:

On The Origins Of Things

Everyone knows that the moon started out
as a renegade fragment of the sun, a solar
flare that fled that hellish furnace
and congealed into a flat frozen pond suspended
between the planets. But did you know
that anger began as music, played
too often and too loudly by drunken performers
at weddings and garden parties? Or that turtles
evolved from knuckles, ice from tears, and darkness
from misunderstanding? As for the dominant
thesis regarding the origin of love, I
abstain from comment, nor will I allow
myself to address the idea that dance
began as a kiss, that happiness was
an accidental import from Spain, that the ancient
game of jump-the-fire gave rise
to politics. But I will confess
that I began as an astronomer—a liking
for bright flashes, vast distances, unreachable things,
a hand stretched always toward the furthest limit—
and that my longing for you has not taken me
very far from that original desire
to inscribe a comet’s orbit around the walls.

—Troy Jollimore, from Poets.org

You may have the biggest army in the world, but your money bills look pretty ugly.

mukashikaranokoe:

(via mirror, mirror on the wall /by maree)

09.28.14 @ 16:1314

mukashikaranokoe:

(via mirror, mirror on the wall /by maree)

magictransistor:

Hopi Ceremonial Dancers; Kachina, Inake, Snake and Natacka (Shongopavi Pueblo and Moqui), Oraibi, Arizona (1896-1900).

ilandsproblembarn:

Vali Myers, 1950’s.

09.28.14 @ 10:499197

ilandsproblembarn:

Vali Myers, 1950’s.

mortecine:

 Ива́ново де́тство - Ivan’s Childhood (Andréi Tarkovsky, 1962)

thirdorgan:

Roger Ballen (was born in New York City, New York, USA in 1950)
M n°3, 2009, from the series Apparitions

09.28.14 @ 10:3449

thirdorgan:

Roger Ballen (was born in New York City, New York, USA in 1950)

M n°3, 2009, from the series Apparitions

On a wedding: watching my 56 y.o. mom dance first to drum’n’bass & then to Jorge Ben

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