terrysdiary: My favorite flowers are Peonies #4

terrysdiary:

My favorite flowers are Peonies #4

2 days ago
Stanley Kubrick and Tracy Reed during production of Dr. Strangelove (1964)

Stanley Kubrick and Tracy Reed during production of Dr. Strangelove (1964)

2 weeks ago
2 weeks ago

(Source: thejogging, via g0dzillasbitch)

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(Source: buffalooflies, via menthaaquatica)

2 weeks ago
ELIZABETH BERKLEY

ELIZABETH BERKLEY

1 month ago
1 month ago

ingrandisco a dismisura e faccio uno screenshot

1 month ago
”

[…] Regardless of my own beliefs and my own doubts, which are unimportant in this connection, it is my opinion that art lost its basic creative drive the moment it was separated from worship. It severed an umbilical cord and now lives its own sterile life, generating and degenerating itself. In former days the artist remained unknown and his work was to the glory of God. He lived and died without being more or less important than other artisans; ‘eternal values,’ ‘immortality’ and ‘masterpiece’ were terms not applicable in his case. The ability to create was a gift. In such a world flourished invulnerable assurance and natural humility.
Today the individual has become the highest form and the greatest bane of artistic creation.
The smallest wound or pain of the ego is examined under a microscope as if it were of eternal importance. The artist considers his isolation, his subjectivity, his individualism almost holy. Thus we finally gather in one large pen, where we stand and bleat about our loneliness without listening to each other and without realizing that we are smothering each other to death. The individualists stare into each other’s eyes and yet deny the existence of each other.
We walk in circles, so limited by our own anxieties that we can no longer distinguish between true and false, between the gangster’s whim and the purest ideal. Thus if I am asked what I would like the general purpose of my films to be, I would reply that I want to be one of the artists in the cathedral on the great plain. I want to make a dragon’s head, an angel, a devil — or perhaps a saint — out of stone. It does not matter which; it is the sense of satisfaction that counts.

Ingmar Bergman

1 month ago
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Jupiter and Io, detailAntonio Allegri da Correggio, c. 1530

Jupiter and Io, detail
Antonio Allegri da Correggio, c. 1530

(Source: maddhatts, via 20000lieuessouslesmers)

1 month ago
2 months ago

(Source: khlorophyll, via brookecandy)

2 months ago