#Persistence of Memory

[0pooleart]

Cliche

[jojomills]

Persistence of Fantasy

at the edge of nowhere

the crossroads of to and fro

lick the melting time

that drips into the sand

do not touch the grass

you find in fleeting patches

just eat the greenbacks out of hand

you find him wilting

you can, you can

fillet the man

broiled for the spoiling of the land

cleave the reaving memories

of greatness few can stand

they call it fair, so call it fair

in the cast of dreams

at the edge of nowhere

___

[olde-with-an-e]

Salvador Dalí

The Persistence of Memory

1931

Oil on canvas

[the-cricket-chirps]

Salvador Dali, The Persistence of Memory, 1931

Salvador Dali, The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory, 1952-1954

[rachaelmayo]

This is The Persistence of Star Trek, a spoof of Salvadore Dali's Persistence of Memory. I made this for my dad back in 2008. He's a fan of Dali, and had described this silly idea to me years earlier, so I surprised him with a finished drawing on his birthday that year.

I used my trusty Prismacolor pencils to mimic Dali's oil paint blending in the original painting. It was an enjoyable challenge.

[major-gilneass]

Going through the entirety of Amelia Atwater-Rhodes books. Just finished the Maeve’ra series, gonna restart the Den of Shadows (I’ve read the original quartet, but not the extended series), then the Kiesha’ra series…and I just ordered the Mancer series from ThriftBooks, so YAY.

[bigfoursandotherlists]

Greatest paintings

[gypsi-kat01]

Conclusion:

So, if after our fleshy human corporations die our consciousness can somehow persist, we should totally be able to adapt to a new form of existence with minimal problems. Cool! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍

love scifi stuff assuming madness follows disconcerting or lacking embodiment when looking down and not seeing your body is the most normal thing ever. Consider maneuvering a laundry basket down the stairs. What feelings does this engender in you? Urgency and focus, attention to orientation, a receptivity to the immediate relevance of any new stimuli, maybe. Not catastrophe. Looking down and not seeing your body is totally fine! Close your damn eyes and try it! It’s such a funny meme to me when it crops up in scifi, after playing in VR. Please trust me that if you astrally project somehow and freak out about it it will be because you are a nervous person, and not because sensory dislocation is intrinsically incompatible with human sanity.

[lostinwormhole1122]

1:15 PM, a desert lost in time

Nostalgia is a powerful feeling. From push-pull to inspire-depress, there is almost no force too big for nostalgia.

Nostalgia runs the show in this desert lost in time. Here, time is only a point of reference - you only need it to navigate through memories but truthfully, it doesn't have much use otherwise.

We, the desert people, have a particular disdain towards time. It seems to think it's the boss! It slows down when it pleases, and runs too fast when it senses that you want it to slow down. Look at it's audacity to remind us every now and then about our utter lack of control over it! The real tyranny begins when it starts greying our hair, making our knees make a funny sound when we move them and when it makes it difficult to remember the very memories - it once used to play with us and our feelings.

Many of those who get lost in our desert, come here tired and frustrated by the games played by time. These are the people who told themselves that they won't let life pass them by, but then some time later, end up catching a reflection of themselves in the mirror - noticing something new about them. Maybe it's their first grey hair, maybe it's their first wrinkle; time has done it's deed! Time overheard their resolve to not let life pass them by and took it as a challenge, as a personal insult even, and then showed them exactly how the odds were always stacked against them. Time is cruel.

Perhaps, this is just the dichotomy of growing up. On the one hand growing up gives us so much experience, so much knowledge; so in a sense we're richer than when we came out of the womb. But on the other hand, we're also poorer because time though is infinite - for us mortals, it is limited.

The desert 'lost' in time is intentionally so lost. Here, one can remain absorbed in their memories for as long as they like. Stay and look back on all the things you thought were not important, and slowly come to realise how significant they actually were. Let the realisation dawn on you that the moments you convinced yourself were 'filler episodes' were actually just as important as the series finale.

If you're planning to visit us, please note our peak tourist season is during the 'mid life' and 'quarter life' crises of the proletariat. Also, remember, though time doesn't matter much on our little plot of land, it is afterall, omnipresent. The longer you stay lost in our desert - the lesser time you'll find yourself with on the outside. As a responsible establishment, we welcome your business and encourage tourism, but we also advise strongly against migration.

[iihih]

Those Fun Furry Replica Artworks Are Now Actual Wall Art

You might have seen what look like fun, furry replica artworks of da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, van Gogh‘s Starry Night and other masterworks advertised as wall art on certain social media platforms and sites. These invitingly tactile versions of classic art are being sold currently as “Fluffy Wall Art” by UK company Kahove, who describe their design directive as “recreating historical masterpieces in…

[poliodeuces]

stairway to heaven

—

edit: i don't know if it's just from my phone, or it's tumblr compression, but this looks unfortunately so so blurry. better quality on my twitter 💥

[kasperl-ruprecht]

Found the trailer I was talking about.

Opening 1 - Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory

[jessonel]

Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I'm Leaving Without You) by firethesound @firethesound

This fic... THIS FIC. If you know, you know. It’s one of my all-time favorite fics, and I had to pick it for the #TreatYoShelf2025 exchange. The story is about grief, and it DESTROYED me (and I dragged some of my friends down with me, cause why the fuck not, right?).

As I read it, the whole concept basically came to me all at once, because there’s something so surreal about living in a world after the love of your life has died. Salvador Dalí’s The Persistence of Memory fits this story so fucking perfectly, I can’t even explain it, and in a way, I feel like I don’t have to.

I sobbed while reading, talking about, typesetting, and binding this fic — and I even teared up while taking pictures of it. Talking about self-care, huh? Cry it out and give yourself time. That’s what I call self-care. Do things you love, for yourself, and let yourself feel all the feelings. Be kind to yourself. Allow yourself to cry when you need to. Time will heal. It doesn’t last forever. Nothing does. No one does. It does get better.

Anyway. First time using printable Canva and just — Look. At. This!!! Don’t even get me started on the perfect charms I managed to find for this project, or the drawings I did for the typeset. And again — if you know, you know. (The mugs!!! The jumpers!!! The ring... Fuck, I’m actually crying again as I type this lol.)

Typeset and artwork by @jessonel :)

Except for the part that is clearly Salvador Dalí, obviously, hah.

More photos here (fucking Tumblr limit)

[vertigoartgore]

1994's Ghost Rider 2099 Vol.1 #8 cover by cover artist Chris Bachalo.

[slayerdurge]

"Crawling back from her bloody disgrace - it's my favorite assassin. Gods, you're a sight for sore eyes."

[yakool-foolio]

Thinking about all the students having monstrous forms in Eito's eyes that are each representative of different horror subgenres or themes. I'll get back to y'all on this one chat.