Ah, no nostalgia hurts as much as nostalgia for things that never existed

From #I am just living to be dying by your side, Darren Bader's most recent show at Franco Noero in Torino, Italy:

(via Contemporary Art Daily)

Shades of Eternal Night

When you're laying in bed at 4 o'clock in the morning waiting for the sun to rise, you can really see the shades of night - and eternity is real. Last night the shades didn't look like Mr. Cy Twombly's, but to each his or her own. These are beautiful anyway. Of course, the sun did finally come up and it turned the mountains all bruised and bluish-purple and the sky glowed pink and I let my body run with my mind and we all calmed down slightly. 

Fifty Days at Iliam: Shades of Eternal Night, 1978 

Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire that Consumes All before It, 1978 

contemporary poetry

Ladies be writing poetry, you guys! And I am feeling it. Just two little snippets that I've run across in the past few months that, at the moment, spoke to me.

They spoke to me enough in the first case to take a screenshot of the poem on my phone because it was posted on facebook without a link (but really what is the world coming to - screenshots?), and in the second case, after absentmindedly reading it on my Feedly (RIP Google Reader) and then realizing hours later it was still floating around in my brain, I had to do random Google searches (like I said, RIP Reader: Feedly does not have a search function?!?!?!?) with key words that I remembered, like "Gonzalez poetry beautiful Rumpus" or maybe I tried Paris Review because it could have been that too? Honestly don't know how I found it again, but that's the magic of the Google machine.

Reading them right now, it's not like, HEY I AM FEELING THESE SAME FEELINGS AHORA MISMA, but more like: Hey, I have felt these feelings, and way to get them totally right.

I had been sad for so long that it shocked me,
by Ruth L. Schwartz


the enormous yellow moon
balanced like a honeydew

on the hill's knife-edge,
fat and implacable.

It wavered there as long as it could,
then started - and who can blame it - 

its slow slide.
As if it meant to show me what was missing.

As if the world were asking, Will you learn
to stand beside this pain?

No, I said,
I wish it dead.

I said no. But the world
said yes. 

(via The Sun)


untitled 5
by Mira Gonzalez

I am looking at people who are dancing and touching each other
I am drinking vodka with ice and feeling incredibly fucked
I wonder if anyone feels more lonely now than they felt an hour ago
when they were alone in their rooms looking at things on the internet

(via The Rumpus)

summer nights

The Sartorialist captured these two lovely ladies in Florence and they look just how I would like to look and be this summer: comfortable, happy, relaxed, and beautiful.

(via The Sartorialist)

Eduardo Sarabia: Tainted

I was hanging out at the MCA Denver a few weeks ago for their Summer Camp Orientation night and stumbled upon their Eduardo Sarabia gallery on the first floor, and holy yes, am I glad that I did.

If I had money money money (sing it, duh), you had better believe that I would be hanging one of these babies in my future home. These were some of the most beautiful paintings I have ever seen. The technical facility this guy has with oil paint is like yikes. It's one thing to paint a photorealistic painting of a person or a landscape, but to then paint splotches of paint that are giant and on top of said photorealistic painting and are also photorealistic? CRAZYTOWN. It looks like he was absentmindedly using old photos as palettes to mix his colors and then was like wait, these are gorgeous and decided to paint the mini-palettes, photo and paint daubs and all, instead. It was great. If you ever have a chance to see his paintings, or even better, buy his paintings, do it! 

is this how you do this?

There has to be no shame, right? No shame to putting on makeup, just to sit in your room. Just to take Photobooth photos. Just to turn them into your first GIF ever? I guess this is how you do this. 

no time to think about cronuts

do you know the reason i love making bread and croissants? because i create something and then it is eaten. it is destroyed. so i do not have to keep seeing it over and over again, picking it apart and deciding it it not worth anything. i was never gonna be an artist. no way jose. - lpr

Muted and Oversized and Floral and Perfect

Dries

Rochas

Dries

Rochas

Rochas

Rochas

Can someone buy me all these things to wear this fall?

(Dries via The Sartorialist, Rochas via The Sartorialist)

Your skin will turn into seaweed

When your friend says just the right thing and it makes your heart swell instead of sinking even further into its pit of disgust and disbelief with the human race, well when that happens, you can't not share her words with the world:

What a wang. I am so so sorry that people think they can be dicks and that it won’t catch up with them. Guess what, IT WILL. Even if you are handsome or cool or whatever it will catch up with you and wolves will bite your ankles or a bear will decide your house is HIS house OR your skin will turn to seaweed!!! THESE THINGS WILL HAPPEN TO YOU SHOULD YOU CONTINUE TO BE SUCH A SELFISH GIRLFRIEND HAVING PIG TROTTER!!!!!

so do yourself a good

Did I go at it wrong?
Did I go intentionally to destroy me?

It's one of the emo days, you guys, in which I am having so many feelings. They match up with this song pretty well. I particularly love the phrasing at the end of this song, where he's saying, I want to be well, but it sounds more like:

Well, I want to be. Well, I want to be. Well, I want to be. 

Like he can't even finish the sentence because he doesn't know what he wants to be. Or maybe he just wants to be. Also, he's not fucking around. Me too and me either, Sufjan.