Tag: nudity

Ben Robinson, “Steven di Costa”

Ben Robinson, Photo Shoot of Steven di Costa

“I’ll tell you what kind of red hair he had. I started playing golf when I was only ten years old. I remember once, the summer I was around twelve, teeing off and all, and having a hunch that if I turned around all of a sudden, I’d see Allie. So I did, and sure enough, he was sitting on his bike outside the fence–there was this fence that went all around the course–and he was sitting there, about a hundred and fifty yards behind me, watching me tee off. That’s the kind of red hair he had.”
―J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Reblogged with thanks to http://3leapfrogs.com

Source: londfoto

The Green Mohawk

Photographer Unknown, (The Green Mohawk)

“We give thanks to the Stars who are spread across the sky like jewellery. We see them in the night helping the Moon to light the darkness and bringing dew to the gardens and growing things. When we travel at night they guide us home. With our minds gathered as one we send greetings and thanks to all the Stars.”

The word for “stars” in Mohawk is o:tsis:tah (pronounced oh:jees:dah)”
― Mohawk

 

John Steinbeck: “A Man with a Beard Was Always a Little Suspect Anyway”

Photographer Unknown, (A Man with a Beard)

“A man with a beard was always a little suspect anyway. You couldn’t say you wore a beard because you liked a beard. People didn’t like you for telling the truth. You had to say you had a scar so you couldn’t shave.”
― John Steinbeck, Cannery Row

Marcel Proust: “He Spent Long and Charming Hours Reclining”

Photographers Unknown, Collection: Inclined to be Reclined

“He spent long and charming hours reclining and have a tete-a-tete with himself, the only guest he had neglected to ask to supper in his lifetime. He tried to adorn his suffering body, to lean in resignation on the windowsill, gazing at the sea, a melancholy joy. With ardent sadness he comtemplated the scene of his death for a long time, endlessly revising it like a work of art and surrounding it with images of this world, images that still imbued his thoughts, but that, already slipping away from him in his gradual departure, became vague and beautiful.”

-Marcel Proust, Pleasures and Days

The Lit Candle

Photographer Unknown, (The Lit Candle)

“When you have gone beyond thinking, and if you can still remain alert, aware, as if one is fast asleep but still alert—deep down at the very core of one’s being a lamp goes on burning, a small candle of light—then you will see your original face. And to see your original face is to be back in the Garden of Eden.”
― Osho, The Secret of Secrets