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“I worshipped the myth I made of you”

-Traci Brimhall, Dear Eros

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Jiang Miao — Taoist Trinity and the Self (acrylic on woodboard, with carving, 2024.7.25)

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i just heard

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Yasuhiro Onishi 大西泰弘 (b. 1986, Tokyo, Japan)

Spirit

Acrylics on Plywood

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beauty by Cécile Paravina

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Nobuyoshi Araki: 'Chiro, My Love' (1994)

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Mike Davis, Late Victiorian Holocausts

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Sans retour possible(1983) dir. Jacques Kebadian, Serge Avédikian

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Weiner dog wearing armor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival (2002)

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It has been remarked that silence obtains its fullest and most impressive quality when it is broken by some minute sound; and, truth to tell, the place was never still. Perhaps the mildness of the spring air operated on its torpid old timbers; perhaps his fires caused it to stretch its old anatomy; and certainly a whole world of insect life bored and burrowed in its baulks and joists. At any rate, he had only to sit quiet in his chair and to wait for a minute or two in order to become aware of such a change in the auditory scale as comes upon a man who, conceiving the midsummer woods to be motionless and still, all at once finds his ear sharpened to the crepitation of a myriad insects.

And he smiled to think of man's arbitrary distinction between that which has life and that which has not.

– Oliver Onions, from “The Beckoning Fair One,” Widdershins (1911)

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Michael Malm

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