Johnny Depp & Kate Moss (Annie Liebovitz, 1994)
i now own a peice of lapis lazuli, feels good man
Hormones got the best of me this week. 😜 I felt bad so I needed to apologize.
Untitled 1 (Silence and floating bed)
Graphite, charcoal and pen on paper
the number of times i have imagined just moving my bed into a gallery/show space…
i would love to see this up close as i am sure it was intended, i mean, graphite charcoal and pen! all that potent pigment dust and that bed.
the amount of attention this piece (still) gets on here makes me anxious.
but these kind of comments make me smile.
And your very flesh shall be a great poem.
Walt Whitman (via nirvikalpa)
—mine is more like a great limerick. (journalofanobody)
Nothing compares to your hands, nothing like the green-gold of your eyes. My body is filled with you for days and days. You are the mirror of the night. The violent flash of lightning. The dampness of the earth. The hollow of your armpits is my shelter, my fingertips touch your blood. All my joy is to feel life spring from your flower-fountain that mine keeps to fill all the paths of my nerves which are yours.
Frida Kahlo, The Diary Of Frida Kahlo (via violentwavesofemotion)
Behind your eyes were stars, infinite and serene
How I would suffer for you, you fascinate and magnetize me.
Halo- BP (via mike-rsltsxy)
I spend too much time
trying not to think about the fact that I am always
roughly six hours from your front door
six hours from coffee brewing in your kitchen
six hours from your tired eyes and warm arms
six hours from breathing easy.
pending traffic and flight delays,
I am roughly six hours from your mouth.
I know it is cliche to say that sometimes
I look up at the moon and I wonder what you’re doing,
where exactly it is that you are and whether or not
you are happy — so I won’t say it.