Chaque vie est un fleuve. Aucun d'eux n'a le même cours mais tous se retrouvent dans l'Océan. Posez moi vos questions Vos contributions
Petroglyphs in the National Park Gobustan in Azerbaijan. These ancient rock carvings date back to 10,000 BC and indicate a thriving culture.
Photo courtesy & taken by Azeria
Who can sleep when she —
hundreds of miles away I feel that vast breath
fan her restless decks.
Cicatrice by cicatrice
all the links
rattle once.
Here we go mother on the shipless ocean.
Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.Text: Anne Carson’s poem “Sleep Chains”
Image Credit: Haus Rucker Co, Documenta Oasis #7, Documenta V, 1972. Photo: Günter Zamp Kelp
(via areashape)
King said in an interview that this photograph was taken as he tried to explain to his daughter Yolanda why she could not go to Funtown, a whites-only amusement park in Atlanta. King claims to have been tongue-tied when speaking to her. “One of the most painful experiences I have ever faced was to see her tears when I told her Funtown was closed to colored children, for I realized the first dark cloud of inferiority had floated into her little mental sky.”
(Source : TIME, via leavealegend)
Source: thesetingstaketime.com via Josh on Pinterest
-
“A l’heure de sa dernière heure
Après bien des années d’errance
Il me revenait en plein cœur
Son cri déchirait le silence
Depuis qu’il s’en était... -
-
-
-
Il y a des moments qui lèvent le voile sur la réalité. J’en ai rencontré un hier. Les derniers instants glissaient à l’horizon, l’obscurité...
-
The Black Sea at Night
- Ivan Aivazovsky, 1879
-
-
Carolee Schneemann, War Mop, 1983



