Natalia Vodianova photographed by Harley Weir for POP Magazine #34 Spring / Summer 2016
Fashion Editor: Vanessa Reid
Hair:Tina Outen
Makeup: Nami Yoshida
Natalia Vodianova photographed by Harley Weir for POP Magazine #34 Spring / Summer 2016
Fashion Editor: Vanessa Reid
Hair:Tina Outen
Makeup: Nami Yoshida
why are dolls from the 1920’s-50’s always the ones that are haunted?? i wanna see a haunted anime love pillow
[/warbled demonic voice]IM NOT YOUR WAIFU, SHITLORRRDDD
“Often children who survive extremely adverse childhoods have learned a particular survival strategy. I call it ‘strategic detachment.’ This is not the withdrawal from reality that leads to psychological disturbance, but an intuitively calibrated disengagement from noxious aspects of their family life or other aspects of their world. They some how know, This is not all there is. They hold the belief that a better alternative exists somewhere and that someday they will find their way to it. They persevere in that idea. They somehow know Mother is not all women, Father is not all men, this family does not exhaust the possibilities of human relationships-there is life beyond this neighborhood. This does not spare them suffering in the present, but it allows them not to be destroyed by it. Their strategic detachment does not guarantee that they will never know feelings of powerlessness, but it helps them not to be stuck there.”
— Nathaniel Branden, The Six Pillars of Self Esteem
(via fyp-psychology)
Taipei, Tawain based artist Hsiao-Ron Cheng, has a certain calmness and serenity about her personality that is reflected in her digital illustrations. Her earlier work, first featured in Hi-Fructose Vol. 24, portrayed wistful, fairytale-like scenes, but more recently, Cheng has shifted her focus to realistically rendered portraits of people in soft, pastel colors. For the past year, Cheng has elaborated on her portraiture by incorporating natural elements and detail in her subject’s expressions and fashion.
See more on Hi-Fructose.
“If the story begins with the lack of a child, then hunger becomes central. Food often replaces sex in folktales, and witches with some rule-bound delicacy are the fertility specialists of choice, second only to daring the fairies to give you a baby hedgehog, a snow-child, or an infant the size of your thumb. The trouble starts when a childless queen is given specific instructions– eat the white rose for a boy or the red rose for a girl, but not both. Eat the fair flower and not the bitter, black one. Peel both onions before you eat them. Folklorists would group all of these motifs under the number “T511– conception from eating,” with increasingly specific Dewey-Decimal-style numbers for conception from a flower or a fish, from swallowing a pearl or a peppercorn. Inevitably, the queen fails the interdiction, because she forgets the warning, or because the first thing she eats is so delicious she just can’t help it. Without that failure, there would be no story. Interdiction, violation: a rule is broken and the world is changed.”
— Kristiana Willsey, Hunger Is the Beginning of Every Folktale - The Toast (via soracities)
“Let’s Take Back our Space”: ‘Female’ and ‘Male’ Body Language as a Result of Patriarchal Structures | Marianne Wex | 1979
“Still I get out of bed and say magic / because there are trees outside my window / and somehow that means you and I / get to keep on breathing here together for a while.”
— Sarah Certa, from Juliet (I)
Theodor Kittelsen (1857 - 1914): Fra Jomfruland-serien / From the series called Virginland.
Ca. 1893, charcoal, pencil and wash on paper.
『ひとり暮らし(I am single.)』
目ざめてそれから、わたしはひとり。
2016.08.17—08.21
イラストレーション展『それから』出展作品
acryl gouache. watercolor.
William Blake. Our Time is Fix’d, Watercolor Illustration to The Grave, by Robert Blair. 1808.
U can really tell who’s been on tumblr more than four years because we all give up on networks and promos and our blogs become bizarre collections of obscure art and documentation of bad life choices
“Skeleton Flowers” become transparent when it rains, when the leaves dry out they turn back to white.
by John Evans