JBB: An Artblog!
almost home
Claire Keane
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
$LAYYYTER
oozey mess
shark vs the universe
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
One Nice Bug Per Day
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
wallacepolsom
Product Placement
dirt enthusiast
⁂
Kaledo Art
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from T1
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seen from Malaysia
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@dotheunstuck
Czeslaw Milosz, from "Ars Poetica?"
[text id: The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will. end id]
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Reading Love of The Wolf by Hélène Cixous & feeling insane
Reading Love of The Wolf by Hélène Cixous & feeling insane
TO RETURN TO MY TREES
“The Overstory” (2019), by Richard Powers; // “Wild Fruits: Thoreau's Rediscovered Last Manuscript” (2001), by Henry David Thoreau; // Kim Novak; // Chinese Proverb; // “To the lighthouse” (1927), by Virginia Woolf; // Santosh Kalwar; // Albert Szent-Gyorgyi; // “Cosmos” (1980), by Carl Sagan; // “Timeline” (1999), by Michael Crichton
Rosary, German, ca. 1500–1525 (Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY)
Each bead of the rosary represents the bust of a well-fed burgher or maiden on one side, and a skeleton on the other. The terminals, even more graphically, show the head of a deceased man, with half the image eaten away from decay. Such images served as reminders that life is fleeting and that leading a virtuous life as a faithful Christian is key to salvation.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
leila chatti, awrah, deluge
ID: “A boy pressing me. A boy pressing me into the mattress like his shadow. I his shadow. My body irrelevant. My body the whole point. My body between us like an argument, but I uttered no argument. My limbs shadows, resistless. When he moved, I moved with him. Shadow of a shadow of a boy. Pressing my head. A boy pressing my hands above my head.” End ID
There's this video of nuns talking about their favourite things to do outside of nun activities and one of them says "ultimate frisbee" and the other one goes "and sister you are so good at that." I literally cannot get "and sister you are so good at that" out of my head. Out of all my stims this one is my fav lolol
......suddenly struck by the idea for a piece of worldbuilding of "fae don't like iron bc it is the most stable element*"
*as in elements higher you can extract energy via fission and lower you can extract energy via fusion but iron itself there is no excess binding energy to extract at all
YOU. YOU SEE MY VISION.
People: exposure to the fae realms makes you weak and sickly. Because of the fae
The fae: wow wow wow i LOVE uranium!!!! We should put it ALLLL over our land!!! This won't cause problems!
You can never leave after eating fae food because you get radiation poisoning and also you're now a walking biohazard
The tinkerbell chernobyl post strikes
https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cwydx34kzlvo
"Vanderhorst had been under the influence of MDMA and three litres of vodka she had consumed on the night of the offence last September, her lawyer Michael Hill told the court."
three. liters.
i support women's wrongs
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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After many springs by Langston Hughes
Robert Wood Lynn, “There is Only One Ocean”
Man Ray, Decorative book binding.
art is just iteration and reiteration and this one single paragraph changed my life
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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happy birthday to you, i hope this next trip you take around the sun with all of us has many many joys<3
Thank you! I so appreciate it. It has certainly begun full of love and joy. ❤️
Happy Birthday! (It’s still Saturday here on the west coast!)
A poem?
I have an odd one here…
A song (I feel that song writers are a modern day evolution of the poet)…
This particular one has been rattling around my head for months. It speaks to me of Rust Cohle. I think you’ll know what I mean when you read it:
“Nightflyer" by Allison Russell, 2021
Yeah, I'm a midnight rider
Stone bona fide night flyer
I'm an angel of the morning too
The promise that the dawn will bring you, you
I'm the melody and the space between
Every note the swallow sings
I'm fourteen vultures circling
I'm that crawling, dying thing
I'm the smoke up above the trees, Good Lord
The fire and the branch that's burning, Lord
Maybe you were sleeping, Lord
But Mary she's not weeping no more, no, mm-mm
Yeah, I'm a midnight rider
Stone bona fide night flyer
I'm an angel of the morning too
The promise that the dawn will bring you, you, you
I'm the sick light of a hurricane's eye
I'm a violent lullaby
I'm six fireflies, one streetlight
I'm a suffocating summer night hm-mm, mm
I'm each of his steps on the stairway
I'm his shadow in the door frame
I'm the tap-tap of a lunar moth
I'm the stale beer on his breath hm-mm, hm-mm
His soul is trapped in that room
But I crawled back in my mother's womb
Came back out with my gold and my greens
Now I see everything
Now I feel everything, Good Lord
What the hell could they bring to stop me, Lord?
Nothing from the earth, nothing from the sea
Not a God Almighty thing
Yeah, I'm a midnight rider
Stone bona fide night flyer
I'm an angel of the morning too
The promise that the dawn will bring you, you, you
I'm the wounded bird, I'm the screaming hawk
I'm the one who can't be counted out
I'm the dove thrown into battle
I can roll and shake and rattle hm-mm, hm-mm
I'm the moon's dark side, I'm the solar flare
The child of the Earth, the child of the Air
I am The Mother of the Evening Star
I am the Love that Conquers All
Yeah, I'm a midnight rider
Stone bona fide night flyer
I'm an angel of the morning too
The promise that the dawn will bring you
Yeah, I'm a midnight rider
Stone bona fide night flyer
I'm an angel of the morning too
The promise that the dawn will bring you
You, you
You, you
You, you
(Go listen to it 💔)
I hope it was a lovely day!
Oh, thank you friend! (And west coast, best coast over here as well!)
This is lovely, and I'm DYING with the "angel of the morning" reference. Yes, I definitely see what you're hearing re: Rust. Thank you for the great rec that will be finding is way onto a playlist shortly.
Florence Welch has some fascinating meditations on how poetry and song writing are woven together (and musicality works in both) in her Useless Magic. I'm always a sucker for a song with gorgeous lyrics. Thank you again.
