Monthly Archives: April 2015

overdose-art: “There is but one Paris and however hard living may be here, and if it became worse and harder even -the French air clears up the brain and does good- a world of good.” ― Vincent van Gogh (photos by overdose-art)

O love, O rose soaked by mermaids and spume, dancing flame that climbs the invisible stairway, to waken the blood in insomnia’s labyrinth, so that the waves can complete themselves in the sky, the sea forget its cargoes and rages, and the world fall into darkness’s nets. Pablo Neruda  (via lesgardenias)

isadorahaze: Shredded tulle left in lavender lunar dust. Pieces of Sunday’s recital are nestled in craters and those nakedly blushing shoes with their deviant shapes are buried too- never enough silk ribbon to stifle blood loss on stage. Black swan, white swan: it’s all the same to selene.