“His body a bloody-ruby radiant With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer”
— Aleister Crowley, Hymn to Lucifer

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Janaina Medeiros

Origami Around
Peter Solarz
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
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$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
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@eleusinian-kitten
“His body a bloody-ruby radiant With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer”
— Aleister Crowley, Hymn to Lucifer

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The Living Dead Girl / La morte vivante (1982) | Dir. Jean Rollin
— Sylvia Plath, from "The Moon and the Yew Tree"
Yōko Ogawa, The Memory Police

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DREAMING ELI Fall/Winter RTW 2026 if you want to support this blog consider donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways
Korina Longin | Elle Italia (July 1998) sanja scans
Nothing to break the monotony except tears and the memory of light.
— Sam Rebelein, from “Hector Brim,” The Poorly Made and Other Things (William Morrow, 2025)
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 3. (1923-1927)
LWENX Couture

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iris van herpen 2025 ~ sympoiesis
We wander between concealed and revealed, sunset to sunrise, favoring blood-red fall over luminous rebirth, genesis of the ephemeral.
ABDELWAHAB MEDDEB (عبد الوهاب المدب) — Talismano, transl. by Jane Kuntz, (2011)
ketzal_coatl
“I am alien to the noises of cities, of people, to the greed of machinery that does not sleep, the hum of power that eats up the night. Where rain, sunlight and darkness are contemned, I cannot sleep. I do not trust anything that has been fabricated to replace the climate of woods or prairies. I can have no confidence in places where the air is first fouled and then cleansed, where the water is first made deadly and then made safe with other poisons. There is nothing in the world of buildings that is not fabricated, and if a tree gets in among the apartment houses by mistake it is taught to grow chemically. It is given a precise reason for existing. They put a sign on it saying it is for health, beauty, perspective; that it is for peace, for prosperity; that it was planted by the mayor’s daughter. All of this is mystification. The city itself lives on its own myth. Instead of waking up and silently existing, the city people prefer a stubborn and fabricated dream; they do not care to be a part of the night, or to be merely of the world. They have constructed a world outside the world, against the world, a world of mechanical fictions which contemn nature and seek only to use it up, thus preventing it from renewing itself and man.”
— Thomas Merton • Raids On The Unspeakable

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You want freedom? There is no freedom from life, and life is synthesis. You’d analyze yourselves to death.
SŁAWOMIR MROŻEK — Tango, transl. by Ralph Manheim & Teresa Dzieduszycka, (1968)
Dandelion shoot, 2026-05-11