belle bissett


Imogen Cunningham: Two Callas, about 1925


Imogen Cunningham: Two Callas, about 1925

"Compassion directed toward oneself is true humility."

— Simone Weil (via greenturtleisland)

(via pensivefrangipani)

bonsai in reflection


Vincent van Gogh - Four Swifts with Landscape Sketches. 1887


Vincent van Gogh - Four Swifts with Landscape Sketches. 1887

(via closetpoesie)


Two Fighting Hummingbirds with Two Orchids — Martin Johnson Heade

The truth isn’t always beauty, but the hunger for it is. ― Nadine Gordimer (20 November 1923 – 13 July 2014)Photograph by Mayotte Magnus


The truth isn’t always beauty, but the hunger for it is. ― Nadine Gordimer (20 November 1923 – 13 July 2014)

Photograph by
Mayotte Magnus


Hilma af Klint. Altarpiece, No. 1, Group X, The Dove, No. 3, Group IX, The Swan, No. 17, Group IX (top to bottom). 1913-1915.

Hilma af Klint (1862-1944) was a pioneer of art that turned away from visible reality. By 1906, she had developed an abstract imagery. This was several years before Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944), Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) and Kazimir Malevich (1878-1935), who are still regarded as the pioneers of abstract 20th-century art. Hilma af Klint assumed that there was a spiritual dimension to life and aimed at visualizing contexts beyond what the eye can see. When painting, she believed that she was in contact with a higher consciousness that spoke and conveyed messages through her. Like many of her contemporaries, she was influenced by spiritual movements, especially spiritualism, theosophy and later anthroposophy. Through her paintings, she sought to understand and communicate the various dimensions of human existence. -Dr. M. Bunyan

(via reckon)

"Oh rascal children of Gaza. You who constantly disturb me with your screams under my window. You who filled every morning with rush and chaos. You who broke my vase and stole the lonely flower on my balcony. Come back, and scream as you want and break all the vases. Steal all the flowers. Come back..Just come back.."

— Khaled Juma, a Palestinian poet from Gaza.  (via nowinexile)

(via aportraitofawomanreading)

Women by Bejan Matur

Translated by Suat Karantay

With their blue tattoos
And bruises from endless mournings
They stand still looking at the fire
They all shiver when the wind blows
Their breasts bend to the earth

Carrying burning wood in their hands
Old as black rusty cauldrons
Women continue their wandering
When the fire bursts in a rage
Voices multiply
The fire burns incessantly there
Extinguishing it is such a hassle

Women with shrunken breasts
Are thinking of the hardness of the wood
They’ll hold in their uncommonly slender hands
And keep silent
It is hard to guess their age when they are silent
They smell of the earth when they cry out

Unable to recollect where to direct their glances
They let their eyes rest upon the earth
As clouds are not permanent in the sky
They relinquish themselves to the earth
And occasionally exude a fragrance

— Bejan Matur

Source: Transcript

More on Bejan Matur: @bejanmatur on twitter

Taner Ceylan
1879 (The Lost Paintings Series), 2011

More on Taner Ceylan: [archive]

Cleopatra — Horace 1.37

Willis Barnstone
Translated from the Latin of
65 BC – 8 BC

Horace 1.37

Now for drinking, now for hitting the
and dancing, leaping, now, friends, is the
for a Salian feast to decorate
the couches of the gods.

Before now it would have been wrong
to bring out Caecuban wine from
ancient bins
while the mad queen plotted the
and funeral of Rome and empire
with her sick gang of ugly infected men
drunk on impotent hope and fortune’s
cheap candies. But by the escape
of scarcely any ship from fire

Caesar sobered her mind from the
madness of Mareotic wine and she came into
true terror as his galleys
picked up speed and she fled

from Italy as if a hawk chased a soft dove
or a quick hunter closed in on a hare
over snow plains of Haemonia
with the end of chaining

a deadly monster. But she wanted
a nobler
death. She had no womanly fear of a
nor tried to speed her fleet
to a secret harbor.

Serene, she bravely gazed at her fallen
she bravely picked up the poisonous
and held it to her body to drink
its black venom,

growing increasingly fierce in her
deliberate death.
No humble woman before his glorious
she would not be carried off
unqueened on small hostile ships.

Source: Able Muse, Translation Anthology Issue, Summer 2014 (No. 17)
Art: Cleopatra by Michelangelo, 1534

Salvador Dalí
Head of a Woman
Self-portrait (Figueres)

lake in summer … dragonflies and water striders, deer flies biting wet ankles

#whitebearlake #dogbeach #wading #bugs

Dorr Bothwell (1902-2000)
Party Waltz, 1945


Dorr Bothwell (1902-2000)

Party Waltz, 1945

(via alienlandings)