Psst. Hey, kid. Want to hear about another bronze equestrian sculpture?
This is The Angel of the City / L'angelo della citta (1948) by Marino Marini, installed at the entrance to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice. The museum is housed in Guggenheim's former home, Palazzo Venier dei Leoni, which stands directly on the Grand Canal.
I love this thing. Its proportions. Its strangely bulky angular grace. The weirdly flat horizontal of the horse's top line mirroring the rider's outstretched arms and feet. Those hands that look like the sculptor just said 'meh. good enough.'
The fact they're both so... happy.
So joyful. Or something.
What you might not know is this very important context: the original phallus was fully detachable and unscrewed like a lightbulb. For, uh, delicacy's sake...?
As Guggenheim wrote in her memoir:
“When the nuns came to be blessed by the Patriarch, who on special holy days, went by my house in a motorboat, I detached the phallus of the horseman and hid it in a drawer. I also did this on certain days when I had to receive stuffy visitors, but occasionally I forgot, and when confronted with this phallus found myself in great embarrassment. The only thing to do in such cases was to ignore it. In Venice a legend spread that I had several phalluses of different sizes, like spare parts, which I used on different occasions.”
― Peggy Guggenheim, Confessions of an Art Addict
ART.(TM)
Note, I said 'original phallus.' Sadly, it is alleged someone stole the original bronze cock at least once, and rumor has it that it happened so often the museum gave up and welded a permanent one in its place. This does, however, mean that theoretically at least one person out there owns a very particular piece of art history.
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In another edition of cetaceans breaching, I present to you my beloved Hector's/Māui's Dolphin, (Cephalorhyncus hectori). Every photo of these little guys jumping out of the water is equally adorable and chaotic and I love them for that.
What is even going on here?
They're leapin'.
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makes me a little sad when star trek ignores IDIC. like. vulcans are logical. that is true. But 'logical', for vulcans, does not amount to 'without compassion,' and it definitely doesn't amount to 'racial superiority.' Belief in 'infinite diversity in infinite combinations' should NOT result in the weird racist/speciest stuff we're getting in some of the newer treks. It does make sense that some vulcans are discriminatory. They're still flawed. But that should not be common or expected, like it seems to be in SNW. If it is, then it's a race of hypocrites, which. doesn't seem very true to Star Trek's message.
I think TOS Spock does a pretty good job of embodying this. Not always, it was the 60s, after all, but mostly. He was often trying to find non-violent routes, and get by without killing - even if they were in danger or had already been attacked. (See: the mugato, and the horta (until Kirk was the one in danger, lmao. t'hy'la > IDIC), the Gorn ship). Kirk, in his eulogy, calls him the most human soul he's ever known, and I've always read that as Kirk calling out Spock's overwhelming compassion.
It's just so much more interesting when Vulcans get to be radically compassionate. I want them to believe that everything and everyone has value. I want them to respect all ways of being. I want them to find ways for even very non-humanoid aliens to exist unfettered in society. I want them to see hybrids and think that it's amazing. Also, like, disability rep. I want Vulcans to have The Most Accessible Planet and available resources because they want everyone to feel accepted and valued. It makes for better characters and more interesting stories.
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Well we heard Roxy during the end credits of the elevator ending so I don’t think she died … she is hurt in every level but she got her emo Barbie emotional support wolf at least ✨
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Well a tiny silly au started spinning in my head since I drew goth john
In this au arthur and his boyfriends form a goth band in the 80s! And yeah. I called them the boykissers.
YOU WILL PROBABLY HEAR MORE OF IT SINCE IT REFUSES TO LEAVE MY BRAIN
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