October 1, 2014
September 26, 2014
platinina:

Marlene Dietrich veiled by cigarette smoke in Shanghai Express (von Sternberg, 1932).

platinina:

Marlene Dietrich veiled by cigarette smoke in Shanghai Express (von Sternberg, 1932).

(Source: ghostofyesterday, via letterstoimogen)

September 20, 2014
hoodablah:

Hurvin Anderson, Phosphorescent, 2013. Acrylic and oil on canvas, 70 x 50 cm

hoodablah:

Hurvin Anderson, Phosphorescent, 2013. Acrylic and oil on canvas, 70 x 50 cm

(Source: showmeartwork)

September 18, 2014
You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. “Floods” is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was. Writers are like that: remembering where we were, what valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place. It is emotional memory — what the nerves and the skin remember as well as how it appeared. And a rush of imagination if is our “flooding.”
Toni Morrison, excerpt from “The Site of Memory,” What Moves at the Margin: Selected Nonfiction  (via commovente)

(via sitonthefloor)

September 17, 2014
July 10, 2014
June 27, 2014
You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via exoticwild)

(via sitonthefloor)

June 10, 2014

Amy Hempel

Amy Hempel

(via yesyes)