A delicious movie through and through. -tM
Here is a nod and a wink to the days ahead. -tM
Moving toward the sun,
today and everyday he comes out to play. I no longer have to rely on my memory of the him, now I engage in playful moments of public and private happiness with him by my side. Secret days are spent lingering in the intimacy of his embrace.
Oh how I love his convivial kisses and will enjoy them while they last, for it is my destiny to love and say good bye to him. -tM
Sometimes to experience an expansion of self you have to connect to others. Intimacy and love allow you to become more then what you are by inclusion. -tM
We need the tonic of wildness, not all things should be manicured in a “civilized” way. Parts of the land and sea should always be indefinitely wild and unexplored.
Wild beaches are a place where I can feel completely alone yet completely connected. Uninhibited I strip down and in harmony I let the five elements move in and around me; Space, Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. I get lost in the mystery and the knowing of it all.
We can never have enough of nature. -tM
Photography: Unknown | 1. The Creeks of Callelongue; 2. The Beach of Gold Mine, Pénestin ; 3.The Beach of Espiguette, Port Camargue
There has always been something empowering about alone time for me.
Silence is underrated here in North America, so when I can, I sit, walk, or swim, alone. It is my holy trinity of rituals (mind, body, soul connection) an autonomous communion and need to feel myself. In truth, that is how I connect to the Source of Life; directly through me, in silence, and amid nature. For ultimately, we are all alone. No one can truly feel our joys, our sadness, our pains. Only we know the multitude of layers that our emotions carry. So it is important to cultivate that time with the self, in growth, in healing, in reflection, and in rejuvenation. It keeps us strong, and it does the body, mind, and spirit good. -tM
Classic 80’s feel good music to kick the week into gear. -tM
There is something easy about summer loving. Its intensity and passion are met with ephemeral ease. Perhaps that should be our approach to love all of the time, moving with it in transience, bending as it bends, paying attention to the seasonal shifts and the moods that follow.
Summertime, when livin’ and lovin’ is easy. -tM
Philip Loraca Dicorcia’s staged photography takes an in depth look at the worlds we have created. The juxtaposition of character and place, between fiction and reality, is what fosters and encourages the telling of the story. I find that his images point in a certain direction but never provide a definitive map.
Art is subjective after all, leaving ample space for us to fill in and question the rest: “What is appearance, and what is truth?” -tM
Perhaps that is because we all experience love from our own unique perspectives. Perhaps it is because we are all damaged in different ways.
We should stop trying to make love into what we think it should be, it’s a higher state of grace that hopefully lives in everything that you do. -tM
“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” -Edith Wharton
When was the last time you embraced someone like this? -tM
European summers taste and feel so different then our North American ones. It’s a collective celebration of life and its joys under the sun. People don’t run away from its pleasure seeking rays, in fact they embrace the starlight. The suns heat becomes desires fuel; freedom finds its way into the rhythm and pulse of days turned nights, where hands that smell of cigarettes come together in holy prayer on beds where after weeks of boredom have been exchanged for lovers quarrels and salacious nights.
The European summer evokes endless movement and promises of something better then before. -tM
I was struck by this man’s unique way of keeping style while in work uniform. I am not certain whether you can tell or not, but he had a large thick silver hoop earring gracing his right ear and a ring of the same stature on his left. I also love the contrast of the bandanna with his silver locks.
I immediately noticed him and payed no attention to the bikini clad sunbathers, as he weaved in and out of different projects in peace & style on a Wednesday afternoon. -tM
I have always found the sound of cutlery on a plate soothing. It probably has something to do with my childhood and the summers by the lake spent falling asleep under the shade of a tree while my parents had lunch in the distance.
As it so happens, today on the way home from work, eyes closed listening to the tracks in meditation, my thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of cutlery ever so gracefully scratching the surface of a ceramic plate. I immediately drifted into solitude, only to realize that the sound was both completely out of context and place. I listened intently, only to have it continue. There was no mistaking its intention.
In all actuality I didn’t search the cart for the elegant diner, however I did become distinctly aware of our vulnerability while in transit. We are neither here nor there, in transition, going from one place to another leaving us most open to such sensory experiences and to the breaking of boarders. A shared moment and space in transition is an interesting thing to observe and contemplate. And yes, I got here from there. Sometimes that’s just the way the mind works. -tM
Artist: Jeffrey T. Larson
Sometimes I like to be parked for the weekend. It’s a glorious thing to be able to be at home, putter about, have friends come over to grace your space as opposed to venturing out into what sometimes seems to be waves of mass discontent. It’s all about balance, for me at least; balance, and going with the flow of well, me. -tM
“The Dancer premiered in 1881 at the Sixth Impressionist Exhibition in Paris, where it spurred condemnation for its “low” realism that many commentors considered vulgar. She stood as an indecently naturalistic portrayal of a working-class dancer, linked to nebulous ideas of vice, degeneracy, and corruption.”
She originally came to be known as the “Unloved Dancer.”
The world was appalled by her realism. It was the first modern attempt at a realistic sculpture. But the original unloved, wigged, and slippered Dancer no longer exists. The 1881 version was made entirely out of wax, which began to darken. It was later replaced with a simplified revised version also made of wax (as no one wanted to buy the original) Today, there are 30 of these bronze cast dancers around the world that were some what born out of Degas’ original. Plaster mould’s were made after Degas’ death in 1921 of a less detailed version of the unsellable original that Degas had later created. Degas’ revised wax rendition currently resides in the National Gallery in Washington, DC.
Now cloned, and idealized, the new version has been whole heartedly accepted by the masses, yet I still have a longing to be witness to the original. It just goes to show you how uninterested we as humans are in having realism find its way into our art, and how uncomfortable it is when it does, as it interferes with our ability to escape reality. -tM
A reminder to be playful in life and design, that is what this image implores of me.
The unexpected placement of these two bronze panthers circa 1930, in the middle of the hallway, stand in contrast to there surroundings. They require you to stop, look, engage, and acknowledge there beauty and position. Playing with the rules, in life and in design is good for the soul. -tM