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Garden Empress
Photo IG @tokyosirens
Model IG @nisababylove_
Florist: IG @hanasakie
HMUA IG @moto17.saika
Coordinator IG @capturetokyo
Encounter with the Goddess of the Forest
Photo IG @tokyosirens
Model IG @nisababylove_
Florist: IG @hanasakie
HMUA IG @moto17.saika
Coordinator IG @capturetokyo
Today’s photo prompt was Game, so my camera joined Ophelia & I whilst we played together. She has such a wonderful imagination that I knew I’d capture a magical moment or several! This is the precise moment she turned me into a rabbit… one who could still operate a camera, luckily enough!
The past, polished to a shine, seems like, those familiar melodies, looming in the distance, sometimes appearing before the eyes, then disappearing again. Those days are full of laughter, touches, events, images and people, seem so far away and at the same time so close.
The native house, already almost erased in the fresh memory, but rooted in once experienced feelings, distant distant but sharp as a blade.
I’ll be back, I’ll be back someday.
What can I even know about myself outside? Is the way I represent myself the real me? If your own voice recorded on tape is strange, alien - what about the pictures that my imagination draws from me, redrawing, perverting my nature, how will he please?
In the process of composing, I create a new self, a new being, the whole world in general.
I am not interested in myself.
I know myself from the inside very well, thoroughly:
to what extent am I a shit, and to what extent is a genius, to what extent is God, and to what extent is it just an abomination.
I am of interest when I become a kind of medium, a conductor.
Mostly when I compose, of course.
Autumn with a star in her hair looked and crept up on me,
Laughing, she ran away into the forests, followed by the fox-Kitsune.
The sun hides in fruits and grains to keep warm.
The fox shows off the embroidery on his kimono in front of him.
The house was spinning like a leaf - sit down, closer to me.
I'll tell you a fairy tale about how the Kitsune fox lives.
I can show it where the heights begin.
The fox has large eyes the color of reddish grass.
Having played with a crystal horn, the wind made its speech - and is already flying far to the ends of the earth and seas.
And you look after him, and then in a dream you see autumn in a kimono from the dawn, and behind her a kitsune fox
Do we not sometimes feel poetry, as we do not feel the smell of flowers?
We began to hide our identities under masks, trying to protect the most important thing that we have - our health,
but stopped smelling the flowers.
Yes, and trying to understand who we are - we began to read more literature, each book as a separate chapter in memory, like a notch on a tree trunk, is imprinted for the most part on our alter ego, and not on ourselves.
But flowers... we smell every smell, even from the deepest childhood, by heart: all these woody and sweet notes in the fragrance seem to remain in our memory for a lifetime.
Gaptophobia / Afenfosmophobia - fear of the touch of people around.
And hands, their fucking set,
and stretch, scour, drag,
torment, persecute, pull,
and nowhere to hide from them.
In reality and in dreams you can not escape,
do not hide yourself with a plaid of thoughts
what inspire that fear.
The past, polished to a shine, seems like, those familiar melodies, looming in the distance, sometimes appearing before the eyes, then disappearing again. Those days are full of laughter, touches, events, images and people, seem so far away and at the same time so close.
The native house, already almost erased in the fresh memory, but rooted in once experienced feelings, distant distant but sharp as a blade.
I’ll be back, I’ll be back someday.
The past, polished to a shine, seems like, those familiar melodies, looming in the distance, sometimes appearing before the eyes, then disappearing again. Those days are full of laughter, touches, events, images and people, seem so far away and at the same time so close.
The native house, already almost erased in the fresh memory, but rooted in once experienced feelings, distant distant but sharp as a blade.
I’ll be back, I’ll be back someday.
Calm me down the sea with the swaying waves
Turquoise,
breeze
bronze weathered leather.
Deafen me with the wind from all directions
Make sadness light, make your soul younger!
Wash away the worries and pains that I met on the way
Let them drown in the water, let them fall into the abyss!
Sea, sea, tell me what lies ahead?
Before the ship disappears.
The wind drives the sadness the sea whispers - live,
So that it was not a pity for the past years.
Everything on earth is meaningless except love
And holy kindness that saves someone.
Doppelganger.
If there is a dark force that hostilely and treacherously throws a noose into our soul in order to capture us later and drag us onto a dangerous, destructive path where we would never otherwise have entered - if such a force exists, then it must take on our own image, become our “I”, for only in this case we will believe in it and give it a place in our soul, necessary for it for its mysterious work.
Everything becomes visible only in that which is opposite to it.
Every our concept is based on the existence of this concept of two fundamentally different sides (parts, characteristics). These two sides, being antagonists, poles of a single whole, cannot exist separately without each other, but only together. Without light there is no darkness, without good there is no evil, without order there is no chaos, without plus there is no minus, without north there is no south. A lot of such pairs-antipodes can be added up: life - death, ideal - material, object - subject, heaven - hell, heat - cold, etc. Both opposites in these pairs, without changing their essence, are constantly in opposition to each other. other, negation of each other, and at the same time are a necessary condition for the existence of one another. Just as tango takes two, so "every object" needs two sides.
Calm me down the sea with the swaying waves
Turquoise,
breeze
bronze weathered leather.
Deafen me with the wind from all directions
Make sadness light, make your soul younger!
Wash away the worries and pains that I met on the way
Let them drown in the water, let them fall into the abyss!
Sea, sea, tell me what lies ahead?
Before the ship disappears.
The wind drives the sadness the sea whispers - live,
So that it was not a pity for the past years.
Everything on earth is meaningless except love
And holy kindness that saves someone.
“I believe that escapism is one of the main functions of a fairy tale, and since I approve of all its functions, I naturally do not agree with the pitying and contemptuous tone in which the word “escapism” is often pronounced. Why, for example, should one despise a person who, once in prison, tries to get out of it at all costs, and if he fails, talks and thinks not about the guards and prison bars, but about something else? The outside world does not become any less real because the prisoner does not see it.”
Escapism is a multifaceted concept that takes on irreducible forms of dreams: from madness and conscious loneliness to narcotic illusions, artificial simulations and unbridled fantasy. Examples of each can be found in the literature. Here are some exemplary examples of escapism:
Philip K. Dick's The Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch (1964)
Daniel Keyes "The Many Minds of Billy Milligan" (1981)
Jean Baudrillard "Simulacra and Simulation" (1981)
Joris Karl Huysmans "On the contrary" (1884)
Arachnophobia - a special case of zoophobia, a fear of arachnids, is one of the most common phobias.
You know, but your World is one of the most terrible places in the universe!
He flaunts his web of everyone who was born there, and no one manages to escape.
Home is not just some city or building, rather it is a certain person who becomes our reason to stay. Home is the person who gives you this feeling.
Home is a place where you are needed, loved and appreciated. A place where they are ready to accept and even love all your shortcomings. I think that a house is a person. The person who makes you happiest in the world.
Your home is where this person is.
Home is a person who will always look at you with love.
This is the person who holds your hand at a time when you feel like you are at a dead end and don't know what to do next. He is next to you and does not go anywhere.
Home is when you feel that there is something in it and in you that makes you both the closest people on Earth, but you don’t know what it is. Home is the person whose touch heals you.
Home is a person with whom you share one happiness.
When you find this person and try to describe your definition of home, those people who have not yet experienced it simply will not understand you.
I hope you find someone who will make your home. Good luck
Autumn with a star in her hair looked and crept up on me,
Laughing, she ran away into the forests, followed by the fox-Kitsune.
The sun hides in fruits and grains to keep warm.
The fox shows off the embroidery on his kimono in front of him.
The house was spinning like a leaf - sit down, closer to me.
I'll tell you a fairy tale about how the Kitsune fox lives.
I can show it where the heights begin.
The fox has large eyes the color of reddish grass.
Having played with a crystal horn, the wind made its speech - and is already flying far to the ends of the earth and seas.
And you look after him, and then in a dream you see autumn in a kimono from the dawn, and behind her a kitsune fox