Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.
David Creedon Photography 'Ghosts of the Faithfully Departed'.
Ireland’s sluggish economy and stifling religious regime during the 1950s left the country with severe emigration issues. Many families abandoned their homes never to return. Irish photographer David Creedon examines these dilapidated houses and forgotten stories of the people who once occupied them with his series of photographs, Ghosts of the Faithful Departed, taken between 2005 and 2007. Shot in colour, the wear and tear of time is evident by the deteriorating walls.
“I decided at an early stage to shoot in colour as against black and white because this allowed me to capture the unique rich colours within the houses which were in contrast to the poverty of the times. I have strived at all times not to move or arrange items but to photograph as found”.
"Birds of a Feather"
Part of Distinction Art Gallery’s 10 year anniversary show.
Untitled (#153) by Cindy Sherman, 1985.
This is the 6th most expensive photograph ever sold at $2.7 million US dollars. |x|
“In horror stories or fairy tales, the fascination with the morbid is also, at least for me, a way to prepare for the unthinkable…That’s why it’s very important for me to show the artificiality of it all, because the horrors of the world are unwatchable, and they’re too profound. It’s much easier to absorb – to be entertained by it, but also to let it affect you psychologically – if it’s done in a fake, humorous, artificial way.”
I feel unspeakably lonely. And I feel - drained. It is a blank state of mind and soul I cannot describe to you as I think it would not make any difference. Also it is a very private feeling I have - that of melting into a perpetual nervous breakdown. I am often questioning myself what I further want to do, who I further wish to be; which parts of me, exactly, are still functioning properly. No answers, darling. At all.
Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait In Letters (via larmoyante)
The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.
Vladimir Nabokov (via thingsandschemes)
Despite the glorious subjectivity of poetry, with each poem holding significant personal meaning either greater or lesser to each reader, despite the reality that certain poems transform you only at certain times and later seem as limp as used cigarettes, despite the need for edible tones to fit the hunger of your hip sway, there are better poets and there are worse poets. You lose nothing being honest. You gain nothing pouring sand into your ears until one poet’s work is the same grain as another’s. None should codify who is at the top and this is true, but to declare there is no top is to deny the sweep of a line clearly visible and easily followed when one reads words magnetic versus words synthetic, bland, and full of atrophy.