#laura makabrescu

[vivacissimx]

🗡 Viserra, Alysanne, and Baelon Targaryen 🗡

fire & blood / franny choi, soft science / elisabeth le brun, julie le brun looking in a mirror (1787) / fire & blood / kim addonizio, queen of the game / marie laurencin, jeune filles et fleurs (1950) (with details) / milan kundera, the unbearable lightness of being (1984) / commissioned art of viserra and baelon by @chillyravenart / fire & blood / le mains négatives (1979) dir. marguerite duras / leo tolstoy, war and peace / mel ferrer as prince andrey bolkonsky in war and peace (1956) / ava gardner photographed posing before a mirror / richard siken, litany in which certain things are crossed out / laura makabrescu interspersed with a fire & blood snippet / the swanee review: thesmophoria by melissa fabos, interspersed with a fire & blood snippet / david thauberger, prairie thunder (2020) / fire & blood / virginia woolf, a writer's diary / peter paul rubens, deborah kip and her children (1630) / c.w. gluck's opera orfeo et eurydice / niki de saint phalle, altar of women (1964) / jon ware's 'i am in eskew' podcast

[es-oh-bfo-em]

[mon-petit-coeur-noir]

How quiet goes away, whom never was; Laura Makabrescu

[thedeadbelle]

"Transfiguration"

Laura Makabrescu

[vecchiorovere-blog]

|Tu sei la quiete,

La dolce pace;

Tu lo struggimento

E ciò che lo placa|

[Friedrich Rückert]

[ ph Laura Makabrescu© ]

[florriescreamlagoon]

Laura Makabrescu

[is2daytuesday]

Veins, 2016 

Laura Makabresku

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[metamorphesque]

“Can you read my hands?”  ― Nuala Archer

1.Ocean Vuong / 2.Laura Makabrescu / 3.Sylvia Plath / 4.Clarice Lispector / 5.Adam Custins / 6.Richard Siken / 7.Ilenia Tesoro / 8.Rod McKuen / 9.Adam Custins / 10.Natalie Díaz / 11.Lew Thomas / 12.Ocean Vuong / 13.Adam Custins / 14.Nikki Giovanni / 15.Jen Mazza / 16.Louise Glück / 17.Franz Kafka / 18.Christine Brache / 19.Richard Siken / 20.Philippe Bourgoin / 21.Benjamin Alire Sáenz / 22.Bruno Munari / 23.Ocean Vuong

[papillonnne2]

Lost paradise, Laura Makabrescu

[innervoiceartblog]

“Sometimes the only way around is through. Whether you like it or not. Every door has two sides. It’s fairly simple. And less complicated than going around and around and around in circles. Once you begin the journey  a new story lines its way through the thickly, curling leaves in the forest.

Trust the ball of yarn. It leads to yet unknown new territories. Everywhere there are invisible helpers and all you need to do is remember to ask. Sometimes all you have is the instinctual medicine of the dark belly to belly forest floor slithering knowing.

Sometimes there is no way out, only a way in and despite wishing otherwise, There is nothing to hold onto nothing to control. Surrender Is the cathedral of the forest. Hum into her song and step into her light.

You will be stronger because of this even if you travel further, solo for the time being. There is strength in following the tracks of wolves at night. 

Be the night wind. Breathe in the north star. Your body is becoming a new map maker. You are being unmade so that you can be made true.

Perhaps you are the new myth. Perhaps this is the beginning of your new story.”

~ Words: the wild matryoshka

~ Image: Laura Makabrescu

[sophi-aubrey]

Blue&Red...

I imagine myself to be an immense violet-colored dragonfly over the backwaters of emotion…

© Federico García Lorca

Ph. Laura Makabrescu

[endexe]

A PARALLEL OF HAND HOLDING WITH [ REDACTED ] & [ KEVIN ] WHO ARE MEANT TO BE HELD & HELD & HELD // @beneviolencia

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe , Benjamin Alire Saénz   /   The Neverending Story ( 1984 )   /   Epithalamium , Louise Glück   /   Laura Makabrescu   /   Sanober Khan

[marquise-justine-de-sade]

La vita la impari sulla tua pelle e le cicatrici che porti addosso sono gli appunti che hai preso nel tempo.

(Vasco Rossi)

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Photography : Laura Makabrescu

Arabeschi

[thedeadbelle]

"Vigil"

Laura Makabrescu

[invece-scelgo-la-tua-bocca]

Il tuo nome è una rondine nella mano, il tuo nome è un ghiacciolo sulla lingua. Un solo unico movimento delle labbra. Il tuo nome sono cinque lettere. Una pallina afferrata al volo, un sonaglio d’argento nella bocca.

Un sasso gettato in un quieto stagno singhiozza come il tuo nome suona. Nel leggero schiocco degli zoccoli notturni il tuo nome rumoroso rimbomba. E ce lo nomina lo scatto sonoro del grilletto contro la tempia.

Il tuo nome - ah, non si può! - il tuo nome è un bacio sugli occhi, sul tenero freddo delle palpebre immobili. Il tuo nome è un bacio dato alla neve. Un sorso di fonte, gelato, turchino. Con il tuo nome il sonno è profondo.

Blaga Dimitrova

Ph. Laura Makabrescu ©

[vecchiorovere-blog]

|Tu sei la quiete, La dolce pace; Tu lo struggimento E ciò che lo placa| [Friedrich Rückert] [ ph Laura Makabrescu© ]