This photo was taken and posted a while ago by one of my acquaintances on Tumblr before I got here. This is my mini 2x4  inch painting, evidenced by my additional photo of it when it was in  progress.. It’s acrylic on canvas. I have the tiniest brush that I used  for detailing. I made it for my friend who absolutely loves Disneyland  and it’s always the most fun going there with her because she knows  exactly what to do there (and so we always get our money’s worth). Over  the past few years my love for Disney & Disneyland has deepened.

This photo was taken and posted a while ago by one of my acquaintances on Tumblr before I got here. This is my mini 2x4 inch painting, evidenced by my additional photo of it when it was in progress.. It’s acrylic on canvas. I have the tiniest brush that I used for detailing. I made it for my friend who absolutely loves Disneyland and it’s always the most fun going there with her because she knows exactly what to do there (and so we always get our money’s worth). Over the past few years my love for Disney & Disneyland has deepened.

(Source: disneyverse)

sostrangehere:

The most beautiful sculpture I’ve ever seen probably, Winged Victory.

Agreed.

sostrangehere:

The most beautiful sculpture I’ve ever seen probably, Winged Victory.

Agreed.

(via suspendedingaffa)

Gorgeous illustrations by xnfo

Gorgeous illustrations by xnfo

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Saturday, 29th January
by nemo et nihil
Motivos Españoles (Corrida) By Mirjana Lucic

Motivos Españoles (Corrida) By Mirjana Lucic

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Wednesday, 2nd February
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Friday, 4th February
Things are made to dissolve
beautifully

Things are made to dissolve

beautifully

cuando la vida es movimiento, conflicto, violencia

cuando la vida es movimiento, conflicto, violencia

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Sunday, 6th February
Image by Anna Danilova 

Book X of Ovid’s Metamorphoses
The death of Cyparissus
There was a giant stag, sacred to the nymphs that haunt the  Carthaean country, which cast deep shadows, around its head, from his  wide-branching antlers. The antlers shone with gold, and the gems of a  jewelled collar, around his polished neck, hung down onto his shoulders.  A bulla, a silver charm, fastened with small strips of leather,  quivered on his forehead, and on either side of his hollow temples  matching pearls of bronze gleamed from both ears. Free from fear, and  forgetting his natural shyness, he used to visit people’s houses, and  offer his neck to be stroked by strangers’ hands. Yet, above all others,  he was dear to you, Cyparissus, loveliest of the Cean boys. You led the  stag to fresh pastures, and the waters of the clear spring. Now you  would weave diverse flowers through his horns, and then, astride his  back like a horseman, delight in tugging his soft mouth one way or the  other by means of a purple muzzle. It was noon of a summer’s day, when the curving claws of  shore-loving Cancer were burning in the hot sun. Tired, the stag had  settled its body on the grassy turf and was enjoying the cool of the  woodland shade. The boy, without intention, transfixed it with his sharp  spear, and when he saw it dying from the cruel wound, he wished to die  himself. What was there Phoebus did not say, in solace, advising a  moderate grief matching the cause! He only sighed, and begged, as the  last gift of the gods, that he might mourn forever. Then, his blood  discharged among endless tears, his limbs began to turn to a shade of  green, and his hair that a moment ago hung over his pale forehead,  became a bristling crown, and he stiffened to a graceful point gazing at  the starry heavens. The god sighed for him, and said, sadly: ‘I will  mourn for you: you will mourn for others, and enter into sorrows’.

Image by Anna Danilova

Book X of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

The death of Cyparissus

There was a giant stag, sacred to the nymphs that haunt the Carthaean country, which cast deep shadows, around its head, from his wide-branching antlers. The antlers shone with gold, and the gems of a jewelled collar, around his polished neck, hung down onto his shoulders. A bulla, a silver charm, fastened with small strips of leather, quivered on his forehead, and on either side of his hollow temples matching pearls of bronze gleamed from both ears. Free from fear, and forgetting his natural shyness, he used to visit people’s houses, and offer his neck to be stroked by strangers’ hands. Yet, above all others, he was dear to you, Cyparissus, loveliest of the Cean boys. You led the stag to fresh pastures, and the waters of the clear spring. Now you would weave diverse flowers through his horns, and then, astride his back like a horseman, delight in tugging his soft mouth one way or the other by means of a purple muzzle.

It was noon of a summer’s day, when the curving claws of shore-loving Cancer were burning in the hot sun. Tired, the stag had settled its body on the grassy turf and was enjoying the cool of the woodland shade. The boy, without intention, transfixed it with his sharp spear, and when he saw it dying from the cruel wound, he wished to die himself. What was there Phoebus did not say, in solace, advising a moderate grief matching the cause! He only sighed, and begged, as the last gift of the gods, that he might mourn forever. Then, his blood discharged among endless tears, his limbs began to turn to a shade of green, and his hair that a moment ago hung over his pale forehead, became a bristling crown, and he stiffened to a graceful point gazing at the starry heavens. The god sighed for him, and said, sadly: ‘I will mourn for you: you will mourn for others, and enter into sorrows’.

In the admirable fighter, fear feeds strength.On the stage in the arenahis courage binds him to his end.

In the admirable fighter, fear feeds strength.
On the stage in the arena
his courage binds him to his end.