lapdanseuse

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soft fresh snow covering everything like a layer of white velvet, even though we are in the deepest part of winter now its delicacy feels spring-like, when i looked at the snowflakes up close they had the appearance of tiny needles

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Anaïs Nin's diaries are her most incredible achievement as an author bc she was obsessed with fictionalizing her own life & romanticizing her sexual affairs with other artists and intellectuals even when those relationships were destroying her. also she went joker mode and tracked down her estranged divorced father to seduce him as an insane power play & fucked him multiple times before ending it. but her grasp on Fascism and Communism is really weak and she often says stupid things about them bc her entire knowledge of these topics is conveyed to her through the aesthetics and intellects of the men she devours sexually (and who in turn consume her) not through reason or understanding. she stopped being a joker mode adulteress in her 40s after finally meeting a therapist she couldn't seduce

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17th century tulip paintings taken from 'Recueil de fleurs dessinées et peintes par Nicolas Robert, Jean Joubert, et autres artistes.'

Gouache on vellum. Other artists included Madeleine-Françoise Basseporte and Claude Aubriet.

Bibliothèque nationale de France.

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everyday I love and appreciate women more and more

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BOSOLA: Doth not death fright you? […] The manner of your death should much afflict you; This rope should terrify you?

DUCHESS: Not a whit. What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits, and ’tis found They go on such strange geometrical hinges, You may open them both ways…

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Simone Rocha: spring/summer (2024)

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by Austėja Liupševičiūtė

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they hate me because i live a second life in my dreams and wake up changed from the experience

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I have just stood before the open window of my bedroom and I have breathed in deeply all the honeysuckle-perfumed air, the sunshine, the snowdrops of winter, the carouses of spring, the primroses, the crooning pigeons, the trills of the birds, the entire procession of soft winds and cool smells of frail colors and petal-textured skies, the knotted snake greys of old vine roots, the vertical shoots of young branches, the dank smell of old leaves, of wet earth, of torn roots, and fresh-cut grass, winter, summer, and fall, sunrises and sunsets, storms and lulls, wheat and chestnuts, wild strawberries and wild roses, violets and damp logs, burnt fields and new poppies.

The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1

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themoonstoned

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