kirrtash

[kirrtash]

the two most horribile people you know deserve each other.

tumblr user @/inkskinned / i want you to know that i'm awake/i hope that you're asleep, car seat headrest / familiarity breeds contempt, google / no children, the mountain goats / tumblr user @/willowcrowned

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Appreciation post for all the beginner artists who work hard despite the AI ​​looming over us. You are fabulous. You are precious. Keep up the hard work, you are needed.

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The Apparition (1876) by Gustave Moreau

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HEADSHOT

instagram // prints

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Art by yueyingzuo

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The Substance (2024) dir. Coralie Fargeat // Robert Mappelthorpe - "White Gauze," 1984 // The Substance // Orphan Black 2x06 - "To Hound Nature in Her Wandering" // Dead Ringers (2023) - "One" // Jose Saramago, Cain // Dead Ringers (2023) - "Six" // Hilma af Klint, "The Swan, no 1," 1914-15 // Diedrick Brackens - "the rhythm of consent," together our shadows make a single belly, 2022 // Black Swan (2010) dir. Darren Aronofsky // Dead Ringers (1988) dir. David Cronenberg // Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus // The Royal Ballet's Frankenstein (2016) // Xolo Cuintle - "Xolo & Cuintle," 2020 // Auguste Rodin - "Christ and the Magdalen," c. 1894 // Anne Carson, Nox

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they should invent a grief that doesn’t define you in new and strange ways for the rest of your life

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Before the firebird there ought to be a firechick Naturally, they hatch from fabergé, but painted eggs come through at times, too.

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ive animated the hair!

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I recorded a doodling. Wanted to see how it would go impromptu and it wasn’t too bad.

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w. h. auden, marginalia

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Xie Lei - Conversion, 2025 - Oil on canvas

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Oh, okay. I see. You think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your mythology and you select out, oh I don’t know, the rape of persephone, for instance, because you’re trying to tell the world that you think maturation and sexual development are a kind of death and rebirth. But what you don’t know is that that narrative is not from claudian, it's not from ovid, it's not from callimachus, it’s actually from the oral tradition. You’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in the sixth century BC, Hesiod the rhapsode composed "Αὐτὰρ ὁ Δήμητρος πολυφόρβης ἐς λέχος ἦλθεν, ἣ τέκε Περσεφόνην λευκώλενον, ἣν Ἀιδωνεὺς ἥρπασε ἧς παρὰ μητρός· ἔδωκε δὲ μητίετα Ζεύς." And then I think it was a certain homeric hymnist, wasn’t it, who elaborated on it with an added narrative of Demeter's wrath? And then demeter's sorrow showed up in the choral odes of several different greek tragedies. Then it filtered down through the Alexandrians and then trickled on down into some tragic augustan vates where you, no doubt, fished it out of some georgic. However, that myth represents thousands of years and countless poets and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from poetry when, in fact, you’re rehashing the "subversions" that were selected for you by the people in that poetic tradition. From a pile of “mythology”.

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On the hundredth day after the new year the heralds come to the doors of the city, announcing the arrival of the Golden Caravan at the farthest stop of its route ; like every year, citizens and travellers will surely gather at the western door to see it come to pass.

Right behind the banners as customary are the sculptor priests, foremost of the stonemason orders, bringing in this year's votive masterwork for the festivities. The black and white steppe oxen precede the arrival of the head guild architect, charged with the safekeeping of the citizens' sacred geometry. The graduating apprentices and newly welcomed novices walk besides the draftsroom carriage, bearing the icons of the Citizen Architects Guild : ardor and patience. Out of the kilns of the imperial workshops come delicate masterwork sought after the world over ; the sister-ceramists are selected from various key regions of the trade system and bring their local styles to the imperial production. Those workshops are the northernmost stop on the caravan's route.

Behind the masons, the torchbearers announce the arrival of the metalworkers' guilds, chief of which the head goldsmith on a palanquin of her own design. The braseros and forges are continuously tended by guild kindlers as to remain lit throughout the entire voyage of the caravan. Second to last comes the host of the manticore, behind the braseros of the master kindlers. It is believed that the creature requires her caretakers to be pure of heart and most diligent ; the honour is bestowed only on the highest performing apprentices of the smithing guilds. On the last day finally, behind the last of the apprentices, the crones of the chain count the days left to craft, keeping misfortune at work away, and, some even say, Death itself.