where do minds travel when we get here

I am unfinished and prodding and lurking.

a beauty i can't explain

egon has my heart

The dreamer whose dreams are non-utilitarian has no place in this world. In this world the poet is anathema, the thinker a fool, the artist an escapist, the man of vision a criminal.

-Henry Miller

can't get over araki

why

The perspective of this sculpture is incredible. I am so moved by it.

rape of the sabine

John Frusciante

when my heart needs to feel, i listen to this

something plagues my mind

In the end, does it bring you anywhere? We can never have a real answer to this, only the dead know if there is anything more, or they don't know at all because they've become nothing. We exist for upwards of 70-80 years on average, and then it cycles on to another generation, and you are just simply and completely dead. All that lust for food, for sex, for stability, for happiness. It all ends. We all end.

mmm water

When I drink a glass of cold water and gulp it down, chug it down, not breathing, open watering eyes, breathing hard... not only my throat is wet....I get turned on by water. I like sex in water, I like showers and baths, they are comforting to me. There is something about it that when I drink it, especially when I am extremely thirsty, I feel it rush down, and it feels like it hits everything.

bright, light and provocative

http://www.richardkern.com/

i like it

http://frankpetronio.net/

raw and beautiful

http://www.christianwitkin.com/

gauzy

http://www.tomhines.com/index.html

I have a weakness for polaroids

http://www.guybourdin.org/

i love color, i love these

http://www.peterfranck.de/index.html

if ever a photo were to make you feel...

http://alexanderbergstrom.com/

photo lust

posting photos is ridiculously addicting, I couldn't post enough, because they are exponentially produced. These photos express something I like, I want, admire, or crave.

another photographer to admire

Peter Lindberg

I would play sports like this

French Vogue

yes...i will marry you

very pretty

French Vogue

I want this, these, those, that over there...everything!

I just discovered petite coquette...possibly everyone women's dream blog. I would wear lingere and nothing else for the rest of my life if I had a an endless closet of what I have found there.

so dreamy, so creamy

Man Ray

i like this

Irving Penn

men, yum

just another boring day

colors attract me

Michael Comte

whitman and gilgamesh would have plenty to talk about

A WOMAN waits for me--she contains all, nothing is lacking, Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the right man were lacking. Sex contains all, Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies, results, promulgations, Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery, the seminal milk; All hopes, benefactions, bestowals, All the passions, loves, beauties, delights of the earth, All the governments, judges, gods, follow'd persons of the earth, These are contain'd in sex, as parts of itself, and justifications of itself. Without shame the man I like knows and avows the deliciousness of his sex, Without shame the woman I like knows and avows hers. Now I will dismiss myself from impassive women, I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with those women that are warm-blooded and sufficient for me; I see that they understand me, and do not deny me; I see that they are worthy of me--I will be the robust husband of those women. They are not one jot less than I am, They are tann'd in the face by shining suns and blowing winds, Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength, They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot, run, strike, retreat, advance, resist, defend themselves, They are ultimate in their own right--they are calm, clear, well- possess'd of themselves. I draw you close to me, you women! I cannot let you go, I would do you good, I am for you, and you are for me, not only for our own sake, but for others' sakes; Envelop'd in you sleep greater heroes and bards, They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me. It is I, you women--I make my way, I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable--but I love you. I do not hurt you any more than is necessary for you, I pour the stuff to start sons and daughters fit for These States--I press with slow rude muscle, I brace myself effectually--I listen to no entreaties, I dare not withdraw till I deposit what has so long accumulated within me. Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself, In you I wrap a thousand onward years, On you I graft the grafts of the best-beloved of me and America, The drops I distil upon you shall grow fierce and athletic girls, new artists, musicians, and singers, The babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my love-spendings, I shall expect them to interpenetrate with others, as I and you interpenetrate now, I shall count on the fruits of the gushing showers of them, as I count on the fruits of the gushing showers I give now, I shall look for loving crops from the birth, life, death, immortality, I plant so lovingly now. -walt whitman

I didn't know bout you slim

Slim Aarons