(Reblogged from knowstrum)
(Reblogged from inpursuitofarriving)

Piet MondrianAmaryllis, watercolor, 1910

“why don’t you makepeace…?”

(Source: slowartday)

(Reblogged from cavetocanvas)

crematorie:

CNN: Protesters, police clash in demonstration against bus fare increases in Brazil

Sao Paulo, Brazil — Riot police fired tear gas and rubber bullets into crowds when thousands of people took to the streets of Sao Paulo on Thursday night to protest an increase in bus and metro fares.

(Source: builtbylasers)

(Reblogged from mvat)

Lully’s turquerie… by Murcof

Poet Unknown

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

(Reblogged from zeroing)
(Reblogged from artchipel)

FREE Movement Research Workshops

Eden’s Expressway

  • Contact
  1. Sundays June 9 and July 14, 28 from 5pm to 8pm
  • Open Space
  1. Sundays June 16, 30 and July 7, 21 from 5pm to 8pm

First Street Green

  • Shake/Walk
  1. Saturday June 29 from Noon to 1pm

Let’s play!

(Reblogged from artchipel)

Deborah Goffe (of Scapegoat Garden), change my life.

found it!

lost my wallet in a friend’s house,

fear it may not be lost.

…just bought a monthly.

fuck.

cher hova,

or jay-z,

don’t you dare call yourself an artist as you create for money and fame. 

oh, so you donated some money?

what have you actually done with your power?

an artist uses her power.

an artist creates for society.

an artist only uses “bitch”, “faggot”, and “nigga” in “art” to make it apparent that misogyny, homophobia, and ignorance are destructive to the self and others.

p.s: don’t get me started on your blonde, nuovo-barbie-doll wife with her lack of voice for women’s rights, or anything but merchandising pepsi and etc.

signed,

an agent of the social revolution of art.

scene from Kontakthof by PIna Bausch