1. blackfashion:

    Mario Horne & Torr Love , 24, NYC


    (via daughterofassata)


  2. Untitled (Blue, Green, & Brown): oil on canvas: Mark Rothko: 1952 


    The TV said the planes have hit the buildings.
    & I said Yes because you asked me to stay.
    Maybe we pray on our knees because the lord
    only listens when we’re this close
    to the devil. There is so much I want to tell you.
    How my greatest accolade was to walk
    across the Brooklyn Bridge & not think
    of flight. How we live like water: touching
    a new tongue with no telling
    what we’ve been through. They say the is sky is blue
    but I know it’s black seen through too much air.
    You will always remember what you were doing
    when it hurts the most. There is so much
    I want to tell you—but I only earned
    one life. & I took nothing. Nothing. Like a pair of teeth
    at the end. The TV kept saying The planes…
    The planes…& I stood waiting in the room
    made from broken mocking birds. Their wings throbbing
    into four blurred walls. Only you were there.
    You were the window.

    —Ocean Vuong

    (Source: triquarterly.org)


  3. harlequin19bee:

    Sensory Overload and how to cope.

    (click on images to zoom)

    Say what you want about tumblr but this post is so important and I did not know until now that this is what I’ve been experiencing in my seven years of battling anxiety thank you tumblr

    (Source: recovery-community, via keepingupwiththekardacheyennes)


  4. noahcaine:

    Manhattan, New York City. January 2014.

    Looking like Gotham.

    (via theartistinpink)


  5. sourcedumal:


    Always reblog. 

    Because black people cant be anything other than slaves and hoodrats according to them.

    We cant like science, photography and things. We can’t be complex individuals.

    We can’t have our stories be seen as universal because Blackness is tainted by white supremacy.

    (Source: natashamaki, via inkinmyfingernails)


  6. This is my skin. This is not your skin, yet you are under it.
    — Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via larmoyante)

    (via roseandthenightingale)



  8. louros:

    CORPUS 10 ; mixed media on canvas ; 160x114cm 

    Lou Ros 2012  

    (via letters-to-nobody)



  10. jennwitte:

    broke a couple of sticks of chalk on this one

    (via alexanderchee)


  11. summer reading


  12. The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.
    — Oscar Wilde (via observando)

    (via litpine)


  13. I can’t tell you what art does and how it does it, but I know that art has often judged the judges, pleaded revenge to the innocent and shown to the future what the past has suffered, so that it has never been forgotten. I know too that the powerful fear art, whatever its form, when it does this, and that amongst the people such art sometimes runs like a rumour and a legend because it makes sense of what life’s brutalities cannot, a sense that unites us, for it is inseparable from a justice at last. Art, when it functions like this, becomes a meeting-place of the invisible, the irreducible, the enduring, guts and honour.
    — Jon Berger (via mttbll)

    (Source: politicstheoryphotography.blogspot.com, via mttbll)


  14. josiechongdraws:

    A literary interpretation for Home Wrecker after Ocean Vuong by Jefferson Lexus Jonson

    Photo reference: Love Story by albertopoloianez

    wow. i love THIS. whoever did this my heart grinds for you.



  15. 15cashexplosions said: Hello! I am an aspiring poet who has the utmost respect for your art. Would it be too much trouble if I sent you some of my writing so I could get some advice?

    thank you so kindly for your words. i am so sorry i am unable to give feedback on work at the moment—as my hands are full with so many projects. but i myself never really had a workshop, and feedback for me was always few and far between. just find your heroes and study them carefully, imitate their poems, copy your favorite ones out by hand. feel the texture of the language, every word pressed into living, breathing images. you will know, marrow-deep, when the poem is finished. when i write a poem that knocks it out of the park, i jump from my desk and walk around in circles and go eat vegan ice cream. 

    love love love,