09:47 pm, highwaydandy
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fuckyeahfoxfriends:

This may be the most beautiful fox I’ve ever seen

fuckyeahfoxfriends:

This may be the most beautiful fox I’ve ever seen

(Source: flickr.com)


07:20 pm, highwaydandy
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hoodoothatvoodoo:

Florette 1944
By Jacques Henri Lartigue

hoodoothatvoodoo:

Florette 1944

By Jacques Henri Lartigue


08:26 pm, highwaydandy
reblogged
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asylum-art:

The Visionary Worlds of Agostino Arrivabene

Artist on Tumblr | Facebook

MIROIR Magazine:  There is a spiritual quality to your paintings, what inspires the visions you paint?

Agostino Arrivabene:  I think it’s a dimension of suspense and anticipation. Since I was a child, when I lost my mother prematurely, this loss placed me in front of the unknown, and that which abruptly takes life. For me, death, from the start, became synonymous with questions without answers and for a long time death became identified with a voyage without destination, a search towards the unknown. The certainty and conviction in myself grew roots towards that diaphragm that divides the real world from the spiritual. The diaphragm that separates and the vibrations necessary to give pictorial substance to my iconographic world. 


12:24 am, highwaydandy
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asylum-art:

Kris Kuksi Art

Facebook / on artnet

Born March 2, 1973, in Springfield Missouri and growing up in neighboring Kansas, Kris Kuksi spent his youth in rural seclusion and isolation along with a blue-collar, working mother, two significantly older brothers, and an absent father. Open country, sparse trees, and alcoholic stepfather, all paving the way for an individual saturated in imagination and introversion. His propensity for the unusual has been a constant since childhood, a lifelong fascination that lent itself to his macabre art later in life. The grotesque to him, as it seemed, was beautiful.

“A post-industrial Rococo master, Kris Kuksi obsessively arranges characters and architecture in asymmetric compositions with an exquisite sense of drama. Instead of stones and shells he uses screaming plastic soldiers, miniature engine blocks, towering spires and assorted debris to form his landscapes. The political, spiritual and material conflict within these shrines is enacted under the calm gaze of remote deities and august statuary. Kuksi manages to evoke, at once, a sanctum and a mausoleum for our suffocated spirit.” ~Guillermo del Toro

via I need a guide


12:23 am, highwaydandy
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12:22 am, highwaydandy
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frenchoffence:

John Galliano

frenchoffence:

John Galliano

(Source: save-room)


02:12 pm, highwaydandy
reblogged
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williamcrisafi:

dandycapp:

QUADRI CHE DIVENTANO TERRIFICANTI GIF ANIMATE
(10 pics)

Forever reblog

I don’t normally reblog a lot of gifs, but this is fantastic.

(Source: thepaludians)


11:03 pm, highwaydandy
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oursoulsaredamned:

Crnobog - Crnobog, or Чернобог as his very name shows, is Slavic black god – god of darkness and winter deity. Slavs believed that cold, famine, poverty, illness originated from this god.

oursoulsaredamned:

Crnobog - Crnobog, or Чернобог as his very name shows, is Slavic black god – god of darkness and winter deity. Slavs believed that cold, famine, poverty, illness originated from this god.


06:12 pm, highwaydandy
reblogged
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asylum-art:

Christine Anderson: Fenced Dragon Lost and Found

"Fenced Dragon Lost and Found" about death, grief. All materials used in the images come from a place where I found the carcasses of deer. The house and property seized deteriorated much faster than the deer was dead. I wanted to give the deer a bit of my creativity. So maybe we could all be heard two.

"I am not afraid of death, but the process of dying itself.

My brother had asked me if I wanted to go see foreclosed property where two deer died in an attempt to jump a fence.  I was interested in how the deer that could easily jump a six-foot fence could get impaled on a five-foot fence, so I asked my brother to drive me to the site.

I found that the carcasses of the deer were rotting on the fence like my brother had told me.  The two deer were in various states of decay on different parts of the property.  It was the first week of spring after a brutally cold and snowy winter. When the earth was buried in snow the deer tried to jump the fence and sank into the snow as they made their leap.  They had no hard ground to make the jump off of and ended up getting caught on the fence that was spiked at the top.  They died a slow painful death.

No one heard their cries; no one saw their struggle as they died. Predators had left their marks, including me. Am I a predator taking pictures making my marks or am I telling their story? I did not hear their cries or see their struggle.  I only saw the evidence of their slow struggle to die. And now I will also observe their decay.

I can tell their story, but will someone hear or see me?

Am I the deer? Taking my pictures that may or may not be seen.  Like the deer no one sees my struggles.  Or am I a predator taking the last thing the deer have left to give – their story.”


10:58 am, highwaydandy
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(Source: akiresregdor)