un--bloomed - Tumblr blog

[un--bloomed]

Richard Siken, Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper

[un--bloomed]

leirelatent, Iceland

[un--bloomed]

“It’s enough to be reminded that my body is not just my body, but that I’m made of old stars,”

— Ada Limón, from The Carrying: Poems; “The Vulture and the Body,”

[un--bloomed]

by @olivecooke

[un--bloomed]

“I am sick of haunting myself from within like an old house.”

— Erica Jong, from “Bitter Herb,” Witches (as seen in Becoming Light: Poems New and Selected)

[un--bloomed]

Boris Savelev - SuburbTrain, near Moscow, 1987

[un--bloomed]

Can’t Stay Too Long In This House_22

[un--bloomed]

Meteor Shower, 19th century.

[un--bloomed]

Euripides, Bakkhai (tr. Gibbons)

[un--bloomed]

“My body is covered with wounds this world made,”

— Rabia of Basra, tr. by Daniel Ladinsky from “Music; It Acts Like Love”

[un--bloomed]

“When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lamppost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: “it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks.” And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it. When I read this letter of Van Gogh’s it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *academical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on. But the moment I read Van Gogh’s letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it. And Van Gogh’s little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.”

— Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit (via raggedybearcat)

[un--bloomed]

Pierre Le Hors "firework studies" published via hassla books

[un--bloomed]

[un--bloomed]

“The love expressed between women is particular and powerful, because we have had to love in order to live; love has been our survival” - Audre Lorde

[un--bloomed]

ANNE SEXTON

‘The Truth the Dead Know’, The Complete Poems (1981);

original photos and edit

[un--bloomed]

[un--bloomed]

It might come as a surprise to many but it’s not more than 80 years ago that many Icelanders lived in houses like these. The Second World War changed Iceland and how people lived drastically as many people moved from the country side to the city of Reykjavik looking for work, for new beginnings. Beautiful photo @_marcelsiebert