editorial: tumblropenarts: girlwithredhat:
I decided to make this poster to show my support for New York.
I send them my best wishes through this difficult time.
Stay strong NY! <3
Love the support-NY-themed art cropping up on Tumblr (pls ping us if you see more, or have something to contribute!). Also: Here is help for NYC artists.
(via thetinhouse)
You swallowed everything, like distance. Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank.
—Pablo Neruda
I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without
love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the
dancing
—
T. S. Eliot
from Four Quartets
(Source: hediondo, via vipertoothe)
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won ‘t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
—Louise Erdrich (The Painted Drum)
(Source: blknymph)
(Source: quietlynonlinear, via tatteredcover)
The Elephant and the Butterfly
And then the elephant kissed the butterfly very gently and the butterfly said: “Why didn’t you ever before come down into the valley where I live?” And the elephant answered, “Because I did nothing all day. But now that I know where you live, I’m coming down the curling road to see you every day, if I may—and may I come?” Then the butterfly kissed the elephant and said: “I love you, so please do.”
And every day after this the elephant would come down the curling road which smelled so beautifully (past the seven trees and the bird singing in the bush) to visit his little friend the butterfly.
And they loved each other always.
—e.e. eummings (vialunardimension)
Skeleton leaves, so pretty but too delicate
not strong enough to publish.”
—
Thomas Wentworth Higginson’s rationale of the merits and instabilities he saw in Emily Dickinson’s poetry, those “blossoms” he would not publish during her lifetime.
In 1886, he would join Mabel Loomis Todd in editing and publishing Dickinson’s work posthumously.
Skeleton blooms
Breathtaking X-rays of flowers by photographer Brendan Fitzpatrick, reminiscent of Nick Veasey’s X-ray art.
