"Ki-ki myo-myo (Strange and Marvelous Turtles of Happiness)," a woodblock print by Utagawa Kuniyoshi, dated between 1847-1852. Medium: Ink and color on paper. Turtles in Japanese culture are symbols of longevity and happiness, tying to folklore where mystical turtles bring blessings.
@MissAdventurous ⬆️ 🙏🏻 saving that. So true.
The butterfly is a flying flower, The flower a tethered butterfly.
[Image: Papillon Noir (2020) acrylic, gold leaf and mineral pigment on canvas by Japanese painter Toshiyuki Enoki (榎俊幸).]
The Artist Writes: "In Ancient Greek, it means 'breath', which means 'life' and 'soul'. In English, it means 'psyche' (spirit). It also means 'butterfly'."
🎬🎬 Ken Russell’s The Lair of the White Worm (1988) is a campy, gothic horror-comedy that revels in its absurdity. Based loosely on Bram Stoker’s novel of the same name, the film takes viewers on a bizarre journey filled with outrageous imagery, eccentric performances, and a narrative that feels more like a fever dream than a coherent story.
The plot revolves around archaeologist Angus Flint (Peter Capaldi), who discovers a strange skull that may belong to a legendary serpent-like creature. Things spiral into chaos when the seductive and sinister Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe) emerges, embodying the cult of the White Worm and wreaking havoc on the rural English countryside. The film merges folklore with modernity, blending ancient pagan rituals with 1980s aesthetics.
Russell’s direction is delightfully over-the-top, and the film thrives on its camp factor. Amanda Donohoe steals the show as the vampy antagonist, delivering her lines with a mix of menace and wry humor. Hugh Grant’s turn as the aristocratic Lord D’Ampton hints at his future charm, while Peter Capaldi’s understated performance provides a grounding presence amidst the madness.
The visual style is as audacious as the story, with surreal, hallucinatory sequences that showcase Russell’s penchant for pushing boundaries. However, these moments can feel disjointed and may alienate viewers looking for a more traditional horror experience. The blend of horror, eroticism, and comedy might not be for everyone, but it adds a distinct flavor that sets the film apart.
The Lair of the White Worm is a cult classic that embraces its quirks, offering a strange and unforgettable ride. It’s not a film for the faint-hearted or the serious-minded, but for those who appreciate eccentric cinema, it’s an entertaining descent into the bizarre.
Moses Williams was a skilled silhouette artist and entrepreneur born to an enslaved couple who were transferred to Charles Willson Peale (whose works we had presented in the past)—as payment for a pair of portraits he had painted while living in Maryland.
Although Charles Willson Peale had supported Pennsylvania’s Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery in 1780, provisions in the law allowed Williams to remain in a form of indentured servitude within the Peale household even after his parents were emancipated.
Unlike Peale’s biological children, Williams was not taught to paint (as painting was considered "higher art"), but he did learn the craft of silhouette cutting, selling his work to visitors at Peale’s Philadelphia Museum. During his first year as a silhouette artist at the museum, he produced over 8,000 profiles, earning 6 to 8 cents per silhouette.
With his earnings, Williams purchased a house and married.Moses Williams’s talent, resilience, and success in overcoming systemic racism and injustice make him a significant historical figure. To honor his contributions, the teaching gallery at the Peale Museum in Baltimore is named after him, ensuring his story remains central to the history of the 1814 museum building and the narratives shared about the Peale family and their legacy.
THE COLLECTOR:
You would see her at twilight, at dawn, dusk, night & day, Along high-ways, by-ways, in forests & woods, on her way, Within the valleys of mountains, by river-sides & sea shores, Wandering, rambling & roaming, old Henge, Dolmens & Tors.
She was a collector of life & all it loosened, shed & discarded, By Her, all was respected, gently gathered & greatly regarded, Twigs, pods, seeds, leaves & soft dropped feathers of all birds, Seaweed, shells, rocks, old driftwood & pungent sweet herbs.
She was the collector of moggies, mutts, hurt curs & lost strays, And like the magpie, collecting shiny moonbeams & sun´s rays, Falling stars she would pocket, along with old pebbles & stones, Gently fingering her treasures, of her lost Ancestor´s found bones.
She was collector of rhythms, rhymes, dreams, yarns & old tales, Amassing, gathering & reaping everything, all but man´s wails, Harvesting the songs of lost avians & haunting Ancestor´s voices, If asked of her collection, said, “One makes one´s own choices.”
The collector said, “I will never collect the idle gossip of sad man, Collecting malicious ideas & cruel rumours is just not in my plan, My energies, upon human banality, I will never waste nor expend, Upon this earth, I shall never be a collector of human-kind friends.”
POETRY BY - SUE LOBO art : Barrington Colby, The Bohemian Girl.
"Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn't have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world.
It doesn't have to be a walk during which you'll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself.
Find meaning or don't find meaning but "steal" some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn't make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.”
~ Albert Camus
🎨unknown
You may line your walls with books, stack your shelves with degrees, and weave your words into an intricate tapestry of eloquence—but if you have never questioned the ground beneath your feet, never let your certainties tremble beneath the weight of a greater truth, then you are still wandering through the night with a shattered lantern, mistaking echoes for enlightenment.
Intelligence is not a crown, nor a shield, nor a decree of infallibility. It is not the weight of your knowledge but the depth of your wisdom that marks the measure of your mind. Some chart the constellations yet have never gasped at the sheer vastness of the sky. Those who know the ocean’s depths by theory have never felt the salt sting their skin. Those who recite poetry yet have never wept at its meaning.
To know is nothing if the heart remains untouched. The world is littered with brilliant minds wrapped in arrogance, voices trained in rhetoric yet deaf to the whispers of truth. Knowledge without a soul is mere clamor, and education without humility is a finely tailored mask.
Katie Kamara [Art: Carol Heyer]
The Enchanting Symbolism of Owls - Anton Seder, ca.1896.
Anton Seder, a master of Art Nouveau, crafted Owls in 1896 as a mesmerizing fusion of nature, mysticism, and ornamental beauty. Known for his elaborate patterns and rich symbolism, Seder’s work embodies the era’s fascination with the natural world, blending it seamlessly with artistic fantasy.
He presents these nocturnal creatures with an almost regal presence, perched amid swirling golden patterns and intricate botanical details. The stylized feathers, sharp gazes, and symmetrical composition reflect both the wisdom and mystery associated with owls throughout history. Art Nouveau’s emphasis on organic forms is evident in the fluid, decorative lines that frame the birds, lending the piece a sense of movement despite its stillness.
Owls have long been revered as symbols of knowledge, the unseen, and the supernatural. In many cultures, they represent wisdom, foresight, and a connection to the spiritual realm.
Seder, working at the height of the Art Nouveau movement, likely sought to capture this esoteric essence while pushing the boundaries of ornamental design. His work, deeply rooted in decorative arts, was part of a larger movement that sought to infuse everyday objects with artistic splendor.
A "cat lady" from the 1930s was typically an older woman who lived alone and kept several cats as companions. In this era, society often viewed women who were unmarried or living independently with a certain degree of social stigma, so having a collection of cats could be seen as both a comfort and a source of companionship. These women often preferred the company of their pets over the busy social lives that many others led, and cats became symbols of independence and eccentricity during this time.
In the 1930s, many cat ladies were known for their deep affection for their feline friends, and they would often be seen knitting, reading, or simply enjoying the company of their cats. The animals were not only companions but also provided emotional support during a time of great social and economic uncertainty, particularly during the Great Depression. The cat lady archetype was often portrayed in literature and media, sometimes with a touch of humor or even as a symbol of a life lived outside of conventional norms.
While the stereotype of the "cat lady" became more pronounced over the decades, in the 1930s, these women were simply carving out their own spaces in a world that often made them feel out of place. Their love for their cats was genuine, and for many, these animals became their closest friends, offering affection and companionship in a time of societal upheaval.