廃止された

My Prayer by The Platters

Hans Makart (1840–1884): The Death of Cleopatra, oil on panel 122.5 × 83 cm (48.2 × 32.7 in)

Hans Makart (1840–1884): The Death of Cleopatra, oil on panel 122.5 × 83 cm (48.2 × 32.7 in)

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 L’Uba LauffováUntitled, 1969

L’Uba Lauffová
Untitled, 1969

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The great lesson of Dalí’s mustaches is that we all must patiently or impatiently grow within us something that makes us different, unique, and irreplaceable. — Philippe Halsman

ageofdestruction:

starling: Solar corona, photographed by SOHO, 9th September 2014.

16 frames, inverted. Sequence covers about 7 hours. The Sun is moving out of the constellation Leo toward Virgo.

The three prominent stars above the Sun are (left to right) Sigma Leonis (σ Leo), 36 G. Leonis (I think), and Chi Leonis (χ Leo).

Image credit: NASA/SOHO. Animation: AgeOfDestruction.


I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

PABLO NERUDA, Sonnet XVII

Can’t Help Falling In Love With You (Cover) by Fleet Foxes


Raf Simons: Redux A/W 1999ph. Raymond Jacquemyns, Antwerp 2005

Raf Simons: Redux A/W 1999
ph. Raymond Jacquemyns, Antwerp 2005

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The Carnival by Amanda Jenssen

expected to be the theme song of American Horror Story: Freak Show

أيمكن هذا حقاً ؟
نحن لا نشفى من ذاكرتنا
ولهذا نحن نكتب, ولهذا نحن نرسم, ولهذا يموت بعضنا أيضا

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Could that truly be possible?
We cannot recover from our memory
This is why we write, and this is why we draw,
and this why some of us die, too.

— Ahlam Mosteghanemi, من رواية ذاكرة الجسد