“Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time.”
— Jean-Michel Basquiat
(via wnq-art)
“Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time.”
— Jean-Michel Basquiat
(via wnq-art)
n. the desire to be struck by disaster—to survive a plane crash, to lose everything in a fire, to plunge over a waterfall—which would put a kink in the smooth arc of your life, and forge it into something hardened and flexible and sharp, not just a stiff prefabricated beam that barely covers the gap between one end of your life and the other.
French lace fan with cherubs, 1885-1895. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
She is Art. What the fuck do you expect from her, other than confusion, beauty and goddamn soul?
This picture is giving me life at the moment and I just want our boys to be bffs
