Can’t Go Home - Good Old War
there’s nothing like
sleeping alone so much.
there’s nothing more empty
than my own bed.
i don’t know where to go
when i can’t go home.
Can’t Go Home - Good Old War
there’s nothing like
sleeping alone so much.
there’s nothing more empty
than my own bed.
i don’t know where to go
when i can’t go home.
perfect.
(Source: salmonwishesandkisses, via loveyourchaos)
Heartwarming Tearjerker of the Day: Meet Ramen Noodle, a teacup poodle puppy who’s managed to thrive despite losing his front legs, and who is the subject of a new photo series by famed animal photographer Carli Davidson, known for past series Shake, Fetch, and Pets With Disabilities.
He was probably a mill puppy, inbred to achieve his tiny size. When he was 8 months old, his first owner brought him to the vet, with a broken arm. Unfortunately, the owner did not properly care for his injury, she didn’t come back to get the cast checked until nine weeks later. At that point, to no one’s surprise, the arm was nearly eaten away by gangrene. By then, Ramen Noodle was listless and refused food. It was a wonder he survived.
Jaime Salata Van Tassel, his clinic caretaker, ended up adopting him. But Ramen Noodle’s struggles weren’t over.
A second injury cost Ramen his other front leg; this time he jumped of a chair and broke the bone. Again, one of the effects of interbreeding dogs for small size is week bone, so his single teacup poodle arm broke so badly it could not be mended. While Jaime was devastated, Ramen surprised everyone and bounced back.
“Ramen gets around the house on his hind legs,” Jaime says. “I’ve watched him run at full-speed for toys, and to play with other dogs, he is essentially unrestricted despite his lack of front arms. … it’s like it never happened.”
[mmm]
d’aaaaaaawwwww
Listen to Tommy with a candle burning and you’ll see your entire future
(Source: jack-rabbit-slims, via livefreeortour)
Georg Baselitz, Man of Faith, 1983
From the Metropolitan Museum of Art:
Since 1969, the brutal, expressionist paintings of Georg Baselitz have depicted figures upside down. This device was previously the hallmark of another artist, Marc Chagall, whose figures, floating free through time and space, were used to a very different purpose-as elements of a complex narrative. In Baselitz’s work, the inverted figure focuses our immediate attention not on the narrative subject but on the process of painting itself-on the textural qualities of the oil medium, the vivid contrasts of color, and the violent, agitated brushwork. The shock of seeing reality presented “on its ear” is perhaps too much for the viewer to overlook completely, but we may concede that Baselitz has succeeded in creating a tense balance between representation and abstraction.
In this work, Baselitz has produced a simple, disturbing image on a grand scale (the canvas is more than eight feet tall), and he fills almost the entire composition with the forms of the falling man. Dressed in what appear to be clerical robes, the figure is bent over in prayer, perhaps a reference to the Apostle Peter, who was crucified upside down. Baselitz’s color is dark and powerful-primarily deep blue-blacks, with patches of bright white, yellow, and blue. The coarse style of painting, derived from early twentieth-century German Expressionism, is equally stark and direct.




