Grimes - Genesis (by jabforallmankind)
Grimes - Genesis (by jabforallmankind)
Paul Klee, Cat & Bird (1928)
deertick
little white lies
Art is both love and friendship, and understanding; the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of Things, it is more than kindness which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is the recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the inter-relations of these.

My father used to take me to San Francisco when I was in high school. I would bring my camera and tons of film. he would only let me shoot in black and white. He would explain that any one can take a pretty picture but it takes a uniqueness to be able to take a photo of barbed wire and make it look beautiful. “The world views an object as ugly and depressing because they are scared of it ” he would say. “Or because they can’t see the history behind a fallen down house or decrepit cemetery. ” he would tell me never do anything half heartedly. especially your art. That sometimes you have to make your self vulnerable in order to capture whatever emotion you want the audience to feel when viewing your piece.
This past year someone told me with great disdain that I was too depressing because i only liked negative and broken things . I was a negative person for only shooting black and white. So I tried to change but it made it worse.
I went to the cemetery a couple of weeks ago with a friend. They could see the beauty with out it being negative or depressing. They were interested in the history of a particular object.
i realized that I had let someone dictate who and what i was.
No more.
Typewriter Series #51 by Tyler Knott Gregson
It’s how it always
seems to happen:
One day after
so much cold
and so little light
Summer Explodes,
and from
out of
nowhere,
there are leaves
again.
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you….
“And we build a home. Word by word, sentence by sentence. We make stories, trace letters in the air, long into the night. We make.” Photograph by Anett Holmvik (via therestisbullshit)