deadr1ingers-blog

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My head I hold to the four winds.

My being, in it’s fullness, as a banner afire with

the rays of life’s light, I decant in a milky jar

to be drunk by the living breeze, to be ridden by

the rider of the muse to a heaven of growing pure

ivory, breeze born and reeling in the joyous poem of

life.

A house of beastly contentment, yet with heads

caped in the knowledge of love, the lace dublets of

wisdom and foundations of eagles ever alert and

mighty, mother eyed, in compassion and feeling

father in the heavy horned harness of state.

My pride I hold upon a jet shield, high in the

domain of the wind.

My folly as a fool, leather-eared and asslike in

the molten paths of my conceit. A leper is healthier

than myself, if cleanliness of soul is a flesh

scholar.

My ears are bangled with tangling ivys sprung

from the fiery downs of falsehood.

For my eyes, hooded and beaten by the years are

eaten by the vulture of mythology.

My skull juice, curdled like an overripe cheese

reeking and ill in my castle of destiny.

Like a pomegranite am I.

Oh, wind ones with your shallow cares for the

darkened heart, in your rolling robes of chivallry,

which way will your guillotine gaze fall.

Marc Bolan, from The Warlock of Love

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This blog's dormancy is a direct result of years of work finally bearing fruit and not having much to complain about or crack bitchy jokes about.

Every lil thing is flourishing and it's real hard to put stuff on a queue when your main reason to pick up your phone is to call someone or send an email.

It'll probably be back sometime, cause life rolls in cycles and I'm damn sure I'll eventually be back on that part of the wheel where I need to grumble, plan and get inspired. But right now I'm on the part of the wheel that requires being hella present and I'm so grateful for that tbh.

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Natia Zarandia aka ნათია ზარანდია (Georgian, b. 1990, based Tbilisi, Georgia) - Furiae, 2017  Paintings: Watercolors 

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Isaak Izrailevich Brodsky (1884-1939), “Leshii”, #1, 1906 Source

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Covering global Neolithic worship of Corvids, but pulling from Turkey for specific inspiration, at Göbekli Tepe where stone carved phalluses and giant pillars with depictions of corvids exist. The trees are based on the native Pinus brutia.

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“Shishi Gami”

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Julien Pacaud

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André Masson (French, 1896-1987)

Ondines, 1957

Gouache, 50 x 32 cm

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Seymour Chwast (American, born  1931) 

Art or Pornography, N/D

Lithograph, 65 x 50 cm

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Dimitrije Popovic (Serbian, born 1951)

Saint Sebastian, N/D

Triptych. Mixed media on cardboard, 82 x 102 cm

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From Lustige Blätter, 1915.

source: http://www.oneletterwords.com/weblog/?tag=sphinx

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                                                        I strangle myself with my own hair

                                                        I rearrange my body

recuperating the love of man through the love of nature, shut up

                                                         I do not want to be your wife

— Julianne Neely, from “Landscape Without Form,” published in Hyperallergic

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Armoire anthropomorphe, Leonor Fini

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darksilenceinsuburbia:

Allen Williams.

http://ijustdraw.blogspot.com/