Migration Period Jewelry, 5th-6th Century AD

James Norton as Andrey Bolkonskiy, War and peace, 2016 source

Shedding the Years. James Clark Bennett. New York: Capitol Book Company, 1925. First edition. Original dust jacket.

Scarce fantasy novel of a young man who loses his love to another man but who at the age of sixty discovers their daughter (both parents now being dead) and uses a rejuvenation treatment to return himself to the age of 35 to pursue her.

☯ Tumblr Animals

I love people who take the time to decorate for each season.

“Would you take him back?” She hesitated and placed her hand over her heart. She let out a deep sigh “You know I cried uncontrollably every day for weeks. I sobbed and screamed, begging for the pain to go away. I prayed so hard, so fucking hard for him to come back to me. Maybe if he reached out to me durning those days I would’ve taken him back in a heartbeat.” “But he didn’t” “One day I just grew tired of crying myself to sleep and feeling so damn exhausted in the morning. I was tired of walking around feeling nothing and everything all at once. I was sick of being broken while he was perfectly okay.” “That day I realized if he truly did care for me, truly loved me he wouldn’t have caused me that much pain and sorrow. He ran out of chances, he ran out of time, he ran out of my love.”

“to answer your question: no” (via damagedlips)

Carmen (Stage) (1938). Everett Shinn (American, 1876-1953). Oil on canvas laid down on panel.

Shinn’s compositions and perspectives were varied, somewhat like Degas. Here, Carmen dances away from the other performers to what appears to be an outdoors stage. It is far from clear where the audience is located or, indeed, if there is an audience.

Reading on the garden path (1883). Albert Aublet (French, 1851-1938). Oil on canvas.

There is a woman reading with no sense of movement. The peacefulness of the woman is paired with the vibrancy of the nature surrounding her. Perhaps the flourishing garden reflects her mind as she is indulging in her own consciousness or imagination.

I love summer and I’ve always loved summer and 90 degrees and the smallest, thinnest tops and cherries on the porch and fireflies and ice pops at night. And you were always praying for fall and leaves and cinnamon which were sometimes great in their own way but they weren’t summer. And that was us and that’s why we didn’t work. We were two completely different kinds of people that were both sometimes great but never at the same time and never in the same ways.

(via i-wrotethisforme)