"In My Culture, We Know Death Intimately. In Arabic, The Highest Expression Of Love Is The Phrase "ya'aburnee"

this is how it ends

goodbye - bo burnham/unknown/goodbye - bo burnham/goodbye - bo burnham/unknown/unknown/frank kafka/goodbye - bo burnham/holly havrilesky/unknown/unknown/unknown/goodbye - bo burnham

Supporter, Nick Alm, 2016

Hamda Al Fahim “Disco Daydreams” spring 2022 couture

Genieve Figgis

Egon Schiele (1890 - 1918) was an Austriac painter and an early exponent of Expressionism. I have selected two statements made by Magdalena Dabrowski and Rudolf Leopold about Schiele's art. The passages can be found in "Egon Schiele - The Leopold Collection, Viena" published by DuMont Buchverlag in association with The Museum of Modern Art, New York.

"Arguably, one of the greatest talents of his time, Schiele, who died at the early age of twenty-eight, created an absolutely prodigious output: his total oeuvre is said to include more than 3,000 works on paper and some 300 paintings. Schiele was, first and foremost, an exceptional draftsman; in fact, even his paintings rely on drawing as their principal structural component. Color is used to enhance the expressiveness and the mood of the pictures and, occasionally, to structure space. Schiele's principal subjects include portraits (among them, numerous self-portraits), figural/allegorical works, and landscapes. These works often make use of symbolic representation and metaphor to convey the malaise of modern man in all its raw and painful truth. " (Magdalena Dabrowski)

"The Expressionists Kokoschka and Schiele were the first to incorporate the tragic and ugly into their work as a way of evoking stronger emotions; one might even say that they invented the use of ugliness as an element of pictorial composition and introduced its potential to the art of our century. The images they created in their determination to express the depths of experience are as compelling and valid today as they were then. The current widespread interest in the two artists and frequently lavish praise accorded them are proof that our present-day tastes in art are in agreement with those of the Expressionist avant-garde of the early part of the century." (Rudolf Leopold)

people by rae kolarova

les tilleuls \ bleue \ noémie \ nap \ de l’art de garder des secrets \ après la pluie \ elles suivent le pollen gris \ bleues \ l’espèce fabulatrice \ refle-xion

kofi

also, my fav colors

when I am among the trees, mary oliver (read by amanda palmer)

made by yours truly

— clair de lune, tathève simonyan         

[text ID: i want a “waking up naked under dusty pink silky sheets” scene: / sunlights of hair cascading over the ivory of my back / untethered strands connecting beauty marks / my own constellation of starlight / and as the morning light sashays in / through the cracks / of this chain of blinds / and as this body of mine / welcomes in blues and yellows / there’s a sense of promise / dancing in the air / that’s not going anywhere. / i want a scene of / hands reaching for a door / not for a cover / for in this particular scene / there’s a body that wants to have me in it / and an i who wants to be in this body / i want this symbiotic bliss / this harmonious coexistence / of two opposing forces / reaching for the same door. / [i want debussy playing in the background] / hands reaching for a cup, hands boiling water, hands adding / a spoonful of coffee / hands never burning / hands running through hair / like wild horses / blindly unbounded / like leaves / succumbing to the breath of the wind / but in a good way / because succumbing oneself / doesn’t have to end with a death / not always / at least not when you can hear / clair de lune / softly whispering from the living room. / i want scenes with hands: / hands all over / all the time / hands that love / without a reason and with (one) / because it’s spring / because it’s no longer spring / because they are hands and that’s what they were made to do / because debussy is playing / and what else can one do / but love / unabashedly / with van gogh yellows / and picasso blues / and monet violets / and / i want a scene where / my name is no longer an unintended apology / but a silent promise / like the morning light / dancing in the air / painting its blue hues / yellow in its blues. / i want a scene where / my existence is a reason / and not an afterthought. / i want a scene of me not wanting any of these. / scenes of me naked under dusty pink silky sheets / waiting for the morning light / and knowing that it will come.]

“There is a solitude in seeing you, Followed by your company when you are gone. You are like heaven’s veins of lightning. I cannot see til afterward How beautiful you are. There is a blindness in seeing you, Followed by the sight of you when you are gone.”

— Witter Bynner, “Lightning,” The Beloved Stranger: Two Books of Song and the Divertisement for the Unknown Lover (Alfred A. Knopf, 1919)