Ship in a Storm, by William Pierce Stubbs (1842-1909)

Gene Tierney and dog (1940s)

reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a fucking break

I finish AM's last episode as Victoria Winters, which means, despite the short-lived recasts, I anticipate that the next 600+ episodes of this show are simply going to leave me thinking:

Dark Shadows’ Hottest Character?

Detail from a map of the District of Maine, 1802. Maine was part of Massachusetts and referred to as the District of Maine until it became its own separate state in 1820.

LOUIS EDMONDS AS ROGER COLLINS, 1970 PARALLEL TIME.

"You have never liked the truth, Uncle Roger, it's too real for you." "Real?"

The house will provide to the girl one chance, if she will only promise not to leave it.

Two dresses. 1812–14 / c. 1820. British. Met Museum.

I love the yellow of the 1814 dress so much!

turn up that fucking hurdy gurdy

Wallace Stevens: The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds. Let the wenches dawdle in such dress As they are used to wear, and let the boys Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers. Let be be finale of seem. The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal, Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet On which she embroidered fantails once And spread it so as to cover her face. If her horny feet protrude, they come To show how cold she is, and dumb. Let the lamp affix its beam. The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

“I went, as a neighbor, to a house to help lay out the corpse of an old woman who had died alone; I was helping to prepare for the home wake. I entered, familiarly, not by the front door but by the kitchen door. I was shocked and repelled as I went into the kitchen by the disorderly festival going on inside: a big muscular neighbor who worked at the cigar-factory had been called in to crank the ice-cream machine, various neighbors had sent over their scullery-girls to help out and their yard-boys bearing newspaper-wrapped flowers from their yards to decorate the house and the bier: the scullery-girls were taking advantage of the occasion to dawdle around the kitchen and flirt with the yard-boys, and they were all waiting around to have a taste of the ice cream when it was finished. It all seemed to me crude and boisterous and squalid and unfeeling in the house of the dead–all that appetite, all that concupiscence.

Then I left the sexuality and gluttony of the kitchen, and went in to the death in the bedroom. The corpse of the old woman was lying exposed on the bed. My first impulse was to find a sheet to cover the corpse; I went to the cheap old pine dresser, but it was hard to get the sheet out of it because each of the three drawers was lacking a drawer-pull; she must have been too infirm to get to the store to get new glass knobs. But I got a sheet out, noticing that she had hand-embroidered a fantail border on it; she wanted to make it beautiful, even though she was so poor that she made her own sheets, and cut them as minimally as she could so as to get as many as possible out of a length of cloth. She cut them so short, in fact, that when I pulled the sheet up far enough to cover her face, it was too short to cover her feet. It was almost worse to have to look at her old calloused feet than to look at her face; somehow her feet were more dead, more mute, than her face had been.

She is dead, and the fact cannot be hidden by any sheet. What remains after death, in the cold light of reality, is life–all of that life, with its coarse muscularity and crude hunger and greedy concupiscence, that is going on in the kitchen. The only god of this world is the cold god of persistent life and appetite; and I must look steadily at this repellent but true tableau–the animal life in the kitchen, the corpse in the back bedroom. Life offers no other tableaus of reality, once we pierce beneath appearances.”

625, 5.

the ✨experience✨ of watching Dark Shadows

promqueenvintage

148.

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.