http://lit-ost.tumblr.com/

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Fri, 24 May 2013 21:39:17 +0800

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Fri, 24 May 2013 14:00:45 +0800

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Thu, 23 May 2013 14:00:49 +0800

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Wed, 22 May 2013 14:01:01 +0800

"Have you ever noticed?—people, no matter how beautiful or desirable, invariably will, if observed..."

Wed, 22 May 2013 09:22:59 +0800

“Have you ever noticed?—people, no matter how beautiful or desirable, invariably will, if observed closely while going about their daily business of keeping alive, begin to seem like monsters.”

- Donald Antrim, ”The Verificationist” (via mirroir)

cavetocanvas: Cecily Brown, Black Painting I, 2002 From the...

Tue, 21 May 2013 21:55:44 +0800

cavetocanvas:

Cecily Brown, Black Painting I, 2002

From the Broad Art Foundation:

The Broad Art Foundation’s Black Painting 1, 2002 is part of a series of dark works that muses on the connection between sex and death and demonstrates the complexity of Brown’s sources and concerns. A viewer can detect the hint of many references, notably Goya’s famous etching The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, Henry Fuseli’s The Nightmare, 1782 and William Blake’s Jerusalem, 1820. However, Brown’s work is not easily reducible to any one forerunner and can be seen as a critique of these historical works. Unlike the ravished and intruded females of Blake and Fuseli, the painting presents a solitary male tortured by ambiguous if not evil spirits of the night. Goya’s bats and Fluseli’s horrible incubus become a cloud of fading flashes of white strokes, but it is ultimately uncertain whether the flashes come from an outside source or are produced by the man’s prone, orgasmic body.

journalofanobody: “It is like the keening sound the moon makes...

Tue, 21 May 2013 13:52:22 +0800

journalofanobody:

“It is like the keening sound the moon makes sometimes,/rising.” ― Robert Hass

(Image: Temblor Moon by Geoffrey Agrons)

Edgar Allan Poe’s manuscript for “Annabel Lee,” published in...

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:46:01 +0800

Edgar Allan Poe’s manuscript for “Annabel Lee,” published in 1849, the year of his death. It was the last work he ever completed.

House of my heart is a cocoon spun from silk dipped in shards of glass.

Sun, 19 May 2013 12:21:02 +0800

House of my heart

is a cocoon spun from

silk dipped in shards of glass.

"The last time I held him, the last time we spoke, just a whisper—hoarse—that marries now this..."

Sun, 19 May 2013 12:00:26 +0800

“The last time I held him, the last time we spoke, just
a whisper—hoarse—that marries now this many-voiced mansion
of storm and from him I’ve learned to slip my body,

to be the storm governed by the law of bounty given
then taken away. Shush and glide. This tide’s running
high, its silken muscular tearing ruled by cycles,
relentless, the drawn lavish damasks—teal, aquamarine,
silvered steel, desire’s tidal forces, such urgent

fullness, the elaborate collapse, and withdrawal
beyond the drawn curtain that shows the secret
desert of bare ruched sand. I’ve learned this,
I’ve learned to be the horn calling home
the journeyer, saying farewell. And here’s

the foghorn’s simple two-note wail,
mechanical stark aria that ripples
out to shelter all of us—
our mortal burden of dreams—
adrift in the sea’s restless shouldering.”

- Lynda Hull, from “Rivers into Seas” (via proustitute)

"To say ‘I love you’ one must know how to say the ‘I’. The meaning of the ‘I’ is an independent,..."

Sun, 19 May 2013 11:54:09 +0800

“To say ‘I love you’ one must know how to say the ‘I’. The meaning of the ‘I’ is an independent, self-sufficient entity that does not exist for the sake of any other person.”

- Howard Roark from The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. (via heyitsmario)

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Sat, 18 May 2013 22:24:47 +0800

"It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the..."

Sat, 18 May 2013 16:44:12 +0800

““It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t come back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain. Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too.””

- Henry Rollins (via 13neighbors)

"I am wild. Dirty feet, I run barefoot through woods and rainforests, open fields and secret water..."

Fri, 17 May 2013 09:22:19 +0800

“I am wild.
Dirty feet,
I run barefoot through woods and rainforests,
open fields and secret water streams. Alone with the sound of my breathing and the wind roaring in my ears.
I am wild.
Knotted hair,
brushing gently across my face, it dances in the wind and rain.
Twigs, leaves and flowers hitch rides across the country side.
I am wild.
The stars call out to me, a part of me is out there, my essence, my purpose, my divine connection.
An infinite sky, forever changing, flowing, being, stillness.
Solitude.
Icy hands and a smokey breath,
let my bones charge in the morning sun light.
Always alone, but I will be free anyway.
I am wild.”

- Tribe ☼f Gaia (via poeticethic)

ritualistics: Norman Reedus for Prada

Fri, 17 May 2013 09:22:07 +0800

ritualistics:

Norman Reedus for Prada

landmngmnt: Guy Bourdin Polaroid

Fri, 17 May 2013 09:17:01 +0800

landmngmnt:

Guy Bourdin Polaroid

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Fri, 17 May 2013 09:16:47 +0800

"we tend to like those artists who starved or went mad or killed themselves and were discovered..."

Thu, 16 May 2013 14:00:35 +0800

“

we tend to like those artists
who starved or went mad or killed themselves
and were discovered afterwards.
it happens often
because great talent is usually fifty to
one hundred years ahead of its
time.

most of those acclaimed in their
lifetime
are mediocre performers.
of course, this is common knowledge,
so common that many of those who are not
recognized in their time
believe that this is a sign of their own true
genius
and countless wives, children, relatives,
friends and bystanders
must suffer
because of this illusion.

to laugh truly is to continue anyhow.

”

- tough cob by Charles Bukowski
From the collection “The Continual Condition” (via iamapatientboy)

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Wed, 15 May 2013 14:00:44 +0800

ancen: andrew westermann shot by pierre debusschere for i know...

Tue, 14 May 2013 14:00:49 +0800

ancen:

andrew westermann shot by pierre debusschere for i know simply that the sky will last longer than i