{∅}

at a secret spot by the water where wildflowers grow

(^3^)

buddhist demon-divinities at the rubin museum

these are only details of course, i’d recommend taking a closer look. LOVE it all, the applique in particular

p.s. - i did not care for francesco clemente’s work in the same space though

one of my illustrations from my zine of botanical parables-
here is another story as well. i was imagining about percival and blanchefleur’s love story but then it became a story about the lady of the lake & the fisher king.

after reading that piece by yeats in my last tumblr-ing and finishing up meyrink’s “the golem” i want to puke at the idea of writing, because actual writers say everything so beautifully with actual beautiful ideas, and i do not want anyone to think i think of myself as a writer. BUT since i was small i always kept a diary, and even back then i never wrote literal records. my habit is just as nancy sinatra sang, “you only live twice, or so it seems, one life for yourself and one for your dreams.” so my dreams go in my diary.

one of my illustrations from my zine of botanical parables-

here is another story as well. i was imagining about percival and blanchefleur’s love story but then it became a story about the lady of the lake & the fisher king.

after reading that piece by yeats in my last tumblr-ing and finishing up meyrink’s “the golem” i want to puke at the idea of writing, because actual writers say everything so beautifully with actual beautiful ideas, and i do not want anyone to think i think of myself as a writer. BUT since i was small i always kept a diary, and even back then i never wrote literal records. my habit is just as nancy sinatra sang, “you only live twice, or so it seems, one life for yourself and one for your dreams.” so my dreams go in my diary.

william blake’s painting; “a visionary” by wb yeats

words by giacomo leopardi, paintings by mikalojus ciurlionis

10th century (swiss)/11th century (french)

- call me old-fashioned, but
- trumpet monkeys (this whole tumblr is gold)
- lamento di tristano


i learned of an abandoned castle in the woods a couple of hours away & that’s more exciting than the thought of visiting actual castles in europe. there’s just something about the anachronistic that’s more compelling to me than what’s “real”.

louis ck on “the forever empty”….

😂😂😂

new season/new obsessions/new crushes/new books

(same old, same old)

found on my old laptop these lesbian mermaids painted for someone’s, well, lesbian mermaid story MANY MANY MANY years ago. i vaguely recall using tea and watercolors for this.

ps, i need instagrams to follow. i HATE lifestyle shit (fashion/food = fuck off) but i like photos of bugs, natural history, street scenes, etc. any suggestions would be nice.

where are you going, my father?i am going to the great forest, i am going walking.why do you go? who goes with you? i go to harvest the sweet coca leaf, i go alone.come back soon, come back soon.i will wait for you crying,i will wait for you grieving.in the woods where you must goa black flag is waving.in the open place that you must crossthe parting grass spreads cloaks of flowers.what heart is this bitter heartthat leaves the dove?little bell of paucartambo,ring farewell for me.i am going to the great forest.i will never return.- quechua song of farewell to the deceased translated by j.m. arguedas

where are you going, my father?
i am going to the great forest, i am going walking.
why do you go? who goes with you?
i go to harvest the sweet coca leaf, i go alone.
come back soon, come back soon.
i will wait for you crying,
i will wait for you grieving.

in the woods where you must go
a black flag is waving.
in the open place that you must cross
the parting grass spreads cloaks of flowers.
what heart is this bitter heart
that leaves the dove?

little bell of paucartambo,
ring farewell for me.
i am going to the great forest.
i will never return.

- quechua song of farewell to the deceased translated by j.m. arguedas

in the mood to paint a cartoon & to remix another arthurian story!

the b&w pictures are obviously not mine, just things on my mind. 1)  story of the laidly worm from one of my favorite book as a child, “english folk & fairy tales” by joseph jacobs. my mom still has my copy with pressed flowers in the pages. 2) tarrochi symbolism. at the morgan libary you can see some beautiful visconti-sforza cards! 3) tesla.

made this painting + this story, same old bullshit

i wrote while looping vivaldi’s summer recomposed by max richter. i can’t even listen to nujabes or talib kweli this summer, it’s all about piercing violins and high drama, ok?? i love the third movement, it’s everything i feel atm, and yes, the original is so much better, but i can’t find a recording of good quality