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Stanislas at the Window France,1973 

by Edouard Boubat

Outdoor Stage, Paris  -   Everett Shinn  c. 1902 

American 1876-1953

Gabriel Cornelius von Max (1840-1915) Morning (Fading). 1870 (detail)

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What was it that he came here to say anyways? His appetite for connection was insatiable, but brave as he was he was still leashed by his nature. What he wanted was to speak so intensely that the world would hold its breath, but he also did not wish to be intense. He wanted to undo the sutures of his heart and wring wine from it- and he would have, if she craved it- but could not imagine being able to satisfy her despite that. These were not things he would say to her, though, and he knew that once someone knew how to love that they were forced to move through the world differently. There would be no roads, only grand lengths of devotion.

"What do you desire?" He asked, but what he really wanted to say was 'Let me gather your desires, let me feed your hunger; I would bleed myself for you. Ask me to.’

Gustave Caillebotte - Cliffs by the Sea at Trouville

luisa beccaria | spring 2020 (ph: filippo fior / gorunway.com)

Harry Wilson Watrous - The Chatterers  - 1913

Luxanna Crownguard by Dao Le Trong

Yoshie Kakimoto / Tetsuhiro Wakabayashi / Ulla Thynell / Chuck Groenink

Landscape at Peebles, 1902, John Duncan Fergusson. English (1874 - 1961)

what r ur fave poems darling?

oh, what a lovely request, my love! there are so many wonderful pieces to choose from  –  to be able to remember and hold them close to me as time wears away my memory, i keep a small journal where i write fragments and entireties of poems i love and have shifted something within me, and it makes moments like these so wonderful, because i get to leaf through it! mind that these are listed in no particular order:

no steeple by talin tahajian   –   “nothing is real until it is. you’d hate that. it’s hard to hurt things. isn’t it. i’m afraid of spiders but i still scoop them cold into my hands  &  let them free. where’s the church for things like this.”

as respite from insomnia, the author writes an elegy for what the night took by brandon melendez   –   “i curse edison and tesla and my herringbone buttons, condemn myself to a lifetime of carrying soft things i am unable to save.”

the artist child by dunya mikhail  –  “i want to draw the moon.  /  draw it, my darling.  /  i can't.  /  why?  /  the waves shatter it continuously.”

pluto shits on the universe by fatimah asghar  –  “your year? your year ain’t shit but a day to me. i could spend your whole year turning the winds in my bed.”

starlings in winter by mary oliver  –   “i am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it; i feel my boots trying to leave the ground, i feel my heart pumping hard. i want to think again of dangerous and noble things.”

october by louise glück  –  “come to me, said the world. this is not to say it spoke in exact sentences but that i perceived beauty in this manner.”

dead stars by ada limón  –  “look, we are not unspectacular things. we’ve come this far, survived this much. what would happen if we decided to survive more? to love harder? what if we stood up with our synapses and flesh and said, no. no, to the rising tides.”

these are a few of my many, many favourites. but i find with these in particular, i always come back to them. for some, it feels like coming home, finding the lights on waiting for me. others are full of palpable believability and excitement, and belonging, even in stark difference. they are lovely and sharp and witty and wonderful, and i love them all with my heart! i hope you enjoy them  💛

been thinking a lot lately about how my problems would be solved if i were one of those women in classic paintings laying out in the woods with their tiddies out surrounded by friendly forest animals

Leon-Francois Comerre (1850-1916), “Luna" 

my pov concept playlists

pov: the forsaken witch -- pov you're a powerful sorceress who has been betrayed. you will show them the meaning of true power.

pov: the angel -- god is dead and you're his last angel.

pov: high fae priestess -- come away o human child! to the waters and wild, with a faerie hand in hand. for the world's more full of weeping, than you can understand.

pov: the coyote -- you're a gunslinging cowboy out in the wild western frontier. enough said.

pov: the oathbreaker -- you're a paladin who has to choose between your oath and the villain you fell in love with.

pov: elven traveler -- pov you're an elf who is the last few of their kind, you travel the world and watch as everything seems to change but you.