ephemeradio-here-to-staydio - Tumblr blog

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Wassily Kandinsky (Russian, 1866-1944 )

The Ravens, 1907

Linocut

Center Pompidou, National Museum of Modern Art - Center for Industrial Creation, Paris, France

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Ending violence cycles in your family? Prepare to feel alone and powerful in the most confusing way imaginable

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Look at this ray of sunshine! SHE’S SO HAPPY

Joanna Newsom at the Kilby block party, May 10, 2024

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竹久夢二 Yumeji Takehisa

「いちご」 1914-1915年 木版画 Woodblock print

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Joanna Newsom, the Masonic Lodge at Hollywood Forever, Los Angeles, May 16, 2024, Night 2

📸: Debi Del Grande

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The Kiss, Kelly Mark, 2007

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clare rojas. the tickle, 2022.

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Morning by Shimoda Yoshihiro

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 Aphrodite - Greece - 3rd Century BCE

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Alexander Tinei - Untitled | 2014

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— Rainer Maria Rilke, Selected Poems

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Illustration For Paradiso By Dante Alighieri

Canto, XXXI, Lines 1 To 3 by Gustave Doré, 1832 - 1883 ]

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Dark Iris №3, 1927, Georgia O'Keeffe

https://www.wikiart.org/en/georgia-o-keeffe/dark-iris-3

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Retrato de María Asúnsolo, Raul Anguiano 

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Daffodils, panel 1 and 2.

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An accidental Magritte painting in Bundoora

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Things:

The one that is too big to hold in our kisses, as wet and open as they are, that makes my heart sink downwards and beat into a secret place and makes my insides feel like they’re trying to burst through my skin— I cannot hold it all in here, you have to stop touching me— that makes me scared of you if I think you’re going away.

The one that is light and melts away the familiar dark purple inside my chest, the bruise that is borne of my fear of you, the ego pain, and watches eyes wide as blackened blue turns to the color and shape and size of lightning bugs as they look above my outstretched palm when it is held by the night, watches as fear and pain are so easily changed to care and love, watches your eyes and touches in one hand the small locks of your hair and needs only that, needs only that.

And not needing, only wanting, but sometimes in that way that can feel like needing— in the 2am way that comes on only when it’s built up in undulations over an evening together, pent up sweet stings that you relieve in each other again and again, and none of it too serious to keep from laughing, until pale blue appears out the window and the needing evaporates sweetly and without pain, door closing, as I collapse into sleep.