#gail peck icons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ckcker · 4 years

Text

I Walk in Madness

Nobody has or can have all the information, but they have the requisite amount of information and agony in combination to believe they accurately see the entire thing. I don’t and can never have all the information, but still I must have an opinion that seems binding or confident. The information I selected and pressed into an opinion is now my special soul, and defines me. It must be released and time-stamped to show that at one point, I made this all-encompassing definition, which is a summary of my self and the window of all my beliefs hereafter. Elevate yourself to say, “I no longer wonder.”

I have made myself publicly available; all that the community asks of you is that you participate. To not participate is to disrespect those who put all of their time, effort and mental filaments into the ideal of community. Such a reclusive impulse should be modified swiftly but in the most holistic way if possible, it is not helpful for others. It is not helpful for you. It is, at heart, cowardly, as it turns away in fear from the difficulties involved in building a resilient, healthy and just community. It courts isolation as a comfort, when in fact voluntary isolation is the fortification of unhealthy habits and delusional or paranoid thought processes which precariously redirect the lost person away from the tough but rewarding civic duties necessary to building a fact-driven social network. If I am lonely at night, the solution is to participate. Though I walk in madness, I end up at the voting booth. A discussion takes place in which everyone pretends to know how recycling works; one inches towards integration. Recipes are shared, and an evening passes with an attempt to perfect avocado gazpacho.

I love traditional open-toed sandals. Making the body more vulnerable to the elements of the outside world shows a general dissipating apprehension. Though current events inevitably fade in relevance and thus sustained public attention, their emotional immediacy and rousing thrust are exceptionally good at forcing the under-opinionated to participate and commune with others. Opinions always coalesce under the pressure of current events, and since current events are established and projected much more widely and much more often in this era, it follows that one should have more opinions, and participate more. Of all the methods I’ve tried, the most effective and least artificial toner I’ve used is two tablespoons of rose water mixed with 1 cup of filtered water. The rose water I use is a brand from Lebanon and you can probably find it in a local middle eastern grocery store. Having a very public life no longer makes me uneasy!

I published the post and I was feeling satisfied, though very likely no other person would see it. My only patron appeared to be a woman in her early 40s with hard bangs and a diamond choker smiling in her icon’s bubble, with arm around a presumed husband and the suggestive text “Be Kind” pegged in lower left corner in hot pink with white outline. Miscellaneous background details in the icon, particularly a hanging silver streamer, communicated that at the time of the photo this woman had been at a New Years party. Her silent interpretation of my persistently scarce content was eager musing territory for me when her icon focused my attention in the midst of a wild scroll, or when her face and militarized endorsement of kindness intruded with the elegance of a twirling maple samara upon my mind during a bout of fear-walking. She made no effort to contact me, had no posts of her own or even personalized layout style, and yet she hypothetically watched me. Of course it was pointless on her end — my posts were designed solely for the tactical misdirection of algorithmic spectres, conceived and published only in order to convince those supra-wiggly archivists of instinct that I was overwhelmingly a different person. I did not want even the smallest gleak of truth to land online. This “lost mind” plan even extended to my video watching and digital window shopping maneuvers, though in the case of the former it was impossible to totally restrain myself from a true curiosity and craving to pursue certain videos. This lack of impulse control expanded even more robustly when porn entered an afternoon; it was insurmountable to search and watch against the specific desires and images I knew would satisfy me the most. Yet I tried in rapid toe dips, once spending eleven minutes on a video of a nude bodybuilder shot-putting a collection of corns and lettuces into a wall, and with no o-face to conjure.

“I walk in madness” was both my unorthodox phrase of meditation and most important sentence of self-parody. When walking around at night in a certain state, I would now and then repeat to myself, “I walk in madness.” After this I would laugh and say, “that’s dramatic.” Self-parody swooped in to dehydrate the potential mirages, delusions. But no other summary was as accurate — literally I walked in madness. From the habits of my mind, a complex system had emerged and, quite simply, enveloped my unhinged ass. I had strobe-nurtured my preferences for “the best way to think” over the last several years, so that now I was only sufficiently energized when mentally combining (1), an act of making fun of myself for feeling out of sorts, with (2), an earnest attempt at my own healing. This perverse combo made me feel very aware but rarely good. And when these thought commands then marinated in the head to a fully abusive gush, there was one more thing to consider. What was the source of that powerful sensation that took me over when I went walking alone and without a plan at night? What was it in the body that prodded me along that highly nummy snack trail of mini-catharses? What was the source of those tiny pecks of transcendence that scattered down the back of the neck when nearing the production of an abyss? That is, I did not only walk in madness because I had to, but also because it had become fun. It raveled me on a line leading to some other connection, a connection which was not to The World. It promised recognition of and commune with everything that did not matter or had not ever been confirmed to exist.

These areas were very important to pay attention to — I had ignored them for the majority of my, to be acutely real, goofiest years, it was important to know everything that was possible. This was my routine. I walked with glamour in circular patterns around less populated city neighborhoods at night, always listening to music that accentuated a spike in insane flavoring. I only chose music that had the strength to combine halo and blurred hole, it was always music that floored my sensation to its final speed. I knew I was so lucky to have built-in machinery that let me expand all of my reserves through music. It was my only advantage. It made me proud to turn inward. If my skill was extreme sensitivity, it could only flourish in its most insular and native format.

But I desperately needed new songs to fill me up, and over-listened as a resting state. I over-listened, and a night out, i.e. the sustained advancement of nightlife over several hours, was an exhausting condition for me. In a bar, I was penetrated by the old song I had heard over two thousand times before, but which now had been remixed in a contemporary style wherein synth stabs commanded by creatine hands had replaced what was once very clean, antiquated AOR guitar strumming. The popular song I had highly ignored for the length of my life, and which hearing did not provoke outrage (or even flashback to wedding dance floor) but instead perpetual indifference in me, had been updated using the most cutting edge technology to produce aural depths not possible with the recording equipment available when the song was originally produced, and which now plunged the emotions much further down and much harder. The original voice was now placed in a melancholy minefield of hysterically deep bass and plummeting, omnidirectional dynamics and, when the remix passed through the tequila that I was allowing to patrol my body, it replicated itself with viral menace to produce in me the extraterrestrial threat of a single tear.

In this instance of a night out, Rob had invited me to this bar and party that I had never been to before. Where I had expected to see more of his friends or even the endless hallway of acquaintances he seemed to be able to mobilize at random, instead I only saw Gail, revealing the conditions were such that Gail and I were the only people Rob had invited to the event. There I stood under the song, almost leaking with melody-induced sentimentality or globular nostalgia mucus. I looked across at Gail who was leaning on a wall, who did not seem to be able to observe me after our initial greeting when I arrived at the bar. She appeared to not take in much information when moved from location to location, and when looking in her eyes I did not ever get the sensation that enormous perspectival changes were part of her social rhythm. A common conclusion from a young person would be that she was fried, but whether as a condition of drugs/alcohol/trauma or some combo, there had not been any stories shared on which to focus a rock hard drama-horny eye. Though I yearned to know what details flanked the long road leading to her hellscape, I realized it was unjust since I wasn’t prepared to present the full set of demonic coordinates that had led to mine. How can one appeal with another story of lost sleep? “Awake all night” is not the story anyway, yes we know, please make your complaining entertaining. I was in the heart of the club, I understood it was not the moment to emerge brumal vapors in the form of uninteresting plot points excerpted from my very personal checklist of booboos. “Oops,” the convicted serial killer said when the public did not like the realistic paintings he made of his victims while in jail. Gurn: it was possible for the public to see horrifying paintings made by a serial killer.

Several screens around the bar played the same music video, which the dance floor area magnified via projection on the wall, so that, in the most emotional part of the bar, emotion was keyed up considerably by the illusion of entering the world suggested by the song. Rob and the bartender were near cheek-to-cheek, taking turns cocking their heads to the side so the voice of the other could enter the ear successfully over the newest Chicago house-derived, 80s-synthpop-infused rap song scorching the lair. Gail stayed against the wall, looking around but appearing totally comfortable, a woman in her 60s drinking a High Life surrounded by a different generation, I was moved. Being young is incredibly dangerous. The bartender poured Rob and himself shots and they downed them together.

Snippets of Gail’s circumstances had reached me, I knew she had been living with her son in Texas but now was essentially homeless, that Rob and Q.C. had met her at a goth club where she was hanging out with a much younger woman named Lillian. Lillian would often be run into at the goth club or other clubs and bars, flirting with Rob and Q.C., and though she was definitely younger than Gail, she wore enough makeup to sufficiently alter minds and, with the support of moody bar lighting that left certain preferred corners in medium darkness, had an age that was unrecognizable. “My instinct tells me she’s at least 35,” Rob had suggested after explaining to me the situation and after a long silence in which I didn’t respond or engage at all with what he had just said. The pause had felt uncomfortable and also unnatural after such bulbous gossip so he apparently felt it important to break the silence with this one more detail of her estimated age. I knew it would make both of us more comfortable if I said something in response to the story of Gail and Lillian but I didn’t, in the end, have anything to say, and so Rob told me he thought Lillian was at least 35, and I responded, “oh.” Lillian and Gail were good friends and Lillian would often bring Gail along to the goth club; Gail did not dress on theme. Eventually Rob learned she lived in her car and he invited her to stay with him for an unspecified amount of time. Inevitably this increased my estimation of Rob’s worldview. When he would decide once again it was time to throw trash from the neighborhood off the 2nd floor apartment balcony — for instance a decommissioned flatscreen or legless American Girl doll — Gail, watching through the open door from the beige velvet couch, would laugh once.

Rob concluded his interaction with the bartender, turned to me and explained the bartender was hot and straight, and when the bartender worked the weekly gay night they held at the bar, he would appropriately enhance his image in honor of the conventional gay male eye — pouring himself into a tight black tank top that demonstrated his tactful chest hair and relevant bicep gains was the respectful thing to do. “I’m going to dance now,” Rob said as a commanding female voice shook the establishment with its first notes.

I wandered over with him but stuck to the doorway that connected the bar area to the dance floor, watching as he threw himself, alone, into the writhing environs, quite clogged with personal freedoms. The mass of dancers sang the chorus of the song all together, the subject matter concerned a protagonist that felt jealous and sad to see their long pined after crush dancing with another girl. In fact the protagonist likely never had a chance with the person who was their crush but had built up a dream narrative in which their idealistic love with this person was nearing possibility. In the midst of such crushing circumstances, the protagonist, now left alone and heartbroken at some event they likely attended simply to engage further with their crush, has decided to dance through their loneliness despite it all, even if it will only enliven them for a moment, and for the length of the song. Rob danced “with” almost anyone he turned his body towards. Some people engaged, dancing back, and others stealthily maneuvered away. At some point it was discernible that he no longer had on shoes or socks. A girl very much liked that, drawing her friend’s attention to the fact, then touching Rob on the arm, saying something inaudible. All three laughed. I stood and watched, occasionally pinged by passing bodies gunning for the most emotional part of the bar. I watched the video on the projection screen. The female vocalist danced specifically, had short pink bowl cut hair, conveyed well-lit and accessible agony. Several bar dancers unmistakably entered a sub-orgasmic flehmen response. My left shoulder reflexively darted front and back — a significant space-grabber had brushed me by on their way to the dance floor. It was eventually revealed to be Gail. I watched her scream “YAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” as she launched herself into the crowd.

5 notes · View notes

connerys · 4 years

Text

tagged by: @gregory-peck thank you queen!!

my icon: sophia loren, the first old hollywood actor ever that i liked. i think i’ve had it for a year or so but for some reason i never can find a single picture that would look better as my icon

my content: old hollywood, everything vintage, occasionally movies i liked before OH wth memes n text posts thrown in..mess but i tag stuff

header: a shot john wayne and gail russell from the wake of the red witch. i’m a sucker for shots like that what can i say

url: sean connery.....obviously,,,, my god my master

my blog title: a line from vertigo as blog title on mobile and a part of it in web version which is actually very edgy since mobile version says “only one is a wanderer” and web is “a wanderer” which is meant to imply that im,,,, a lonely loner....

tagging: @leofromthedark @henricavyll @helenspreference @davidlynch @deforest @myellenficent if you’ve not done it yet/want to do it :)

#personal #done a lot of this today...sjdjsjdfkg

7 notes · View notes

wallpaperpainting · 4 years

Text

The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art

The coronavirus crisis agency we’re spending added time central than anytime before, so Dezeen’s Natasha Levy has alleged 10 films with stand-out interiors that can action some escape from your own four walls.

Paintings White Daisy Flower Oil Painting 18D Hand Painted on .. | white daisies framed art

The Grand Budapest Hotel, 2014

The albino mountaintops of a apocryphal country in Eastern European is the accomplishments for The Grand Budapest Hotel, a comedic ball that sees a babysitter agent affected for murder.

Crimson-red carpets, marble columns and adorned assumption lighting beautify the hotel’s lobby, which was created in the atrium of Görlitzer Warenhaus – a alone art-nouveau administration abundance in eastern Germany.

To actualize the films added whimsical, pastel-hued sets, assembly artist Adam Stockhausen referenced archived adumbration of Alpine ski resorts.

The Grand Budapest Hotel is accessible to watch on Amazon.

Framed Print – Black & White Daisies (Daisy Flower Flowers .. | white daisies framed art

Nocturnal Animals, 2016

A concrete-and-glass abode hidden on a hillside in Malibu, California, is the ambience for Nocturnal Animals, a angry abstruseness directed by appearance artist Tom Ford.

The autogenous of the home is abounding with big-ticket accoutrement and artworks, but feels more alarming afterwards the advocate receives a advancing atypical arrangement from her conflicting husband.

Nocturnal Animals is accessible to watch on Amazon and Hulu.

American Psycho, 2000

Daisy Delight Framed Art • Stamp With Peggy – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

Set in 1980s New York, American Psycho advance the cerebral unravelling and accretion bloodlust of advance broker Patrick Bateman.

Initially Bateman’s accommodation appears to be an bright accessible pad, complete with bright-white walls, bright animate accessories and a brace of Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona chairs – but it anon becomes the ambience for his best abominable acts.

American Psycho is accessible to watch on BFI Player and Youtube.

Call Me By Your Name, 2017

Villa Albergoni, an arid abode in arctic Italy, is the awe-inspiring ambience for Call Me By Your Name – a come-of-age account that sees affair blossom amid jailbait Elio Perlman and a 24-year-old alum student.

Details about [Framed] White Daisy Flower Modern Canvas Prints Picture Wall Art Home Decor New – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

Interior artist Violante Visconti Di Modrone gave the acreage a busy quality, anxiously curating anniversary allowance to reflect Perlman’s able ancestors and upbringing. Props accommodate aged maps, paintings and books, as able-bodied as glassware and ceramics that already belonged to Di Modrone’s own parents.

Call Me By Your Name is accessible to watch on Amazon and Google Play.

The Favourite, 2018

Heavily-tapestried walls and beefy four-mattress beds are some of the affluent capacity to affection in the interiors of The Favourite – a atramentous ball that sees two aristocratic cousins jostle for the absorption of Queen Anne.

The blur is set during the 18th century, but assembly artist Fiona Crumble told Dezeen she didn’t feel the charge to absolutely carbon the adornment of

Print of Pink & White Daisies – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art – white daisies framed art | Pleasant to my own blog site, in this occasion I will explain to you with regards to keyword. Now, this can be a very first picture:

Single White Daisy Blossom Painting by Sharon Freeman – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

How about image previously mentioned? can be that remarkable???. if you think thus, I’l t explain to you some picture once again beneath:

So, if you want to receive all these awesome graphics regarding (The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art), simply click save icon to save the graphics to your laptop. There’re ready for download, if you’d rather and wish to take it, simply click save badge on the web page, and it will be immediately saved to your home computer.} At last if you wish to obtain new and recent picture related with (The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art), please follow us on google plus or book mark this page, we attempt our best to offer you daily up-date with all new and fresh images. We do hope you like keeping here. For many updates and latest information about (The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art) pics, please kindly follow us on twitter, path, Instagram and google plus, or you mark this page on bookmark area, We try to present you up-date periodically with fresh and new photos, love your exploring, and find the perfect for you.

Here you are at our website, contentabove (The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art) published . Today we are pleased to announce that we have discovered an extremelyinteresting nicheto be reviewed, that is (The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art) Many people searching for information about(The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art) and definitely one of these is you, is not it?

Daisy Floral Botanical Nature Print, Canvas, Metal, Framed Wall .. | white daisies framed art

Bunch of White Daisies Framed Print Wall Art By Gail Peck .. | white daisies framed art

WHITE DAISIES (ART_18_18) – Handpainted Art Painting – 18in X 18in (Framed) – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

18d Hand Painted Painting Artwork White Daisy Flower Wall Art Vertical Wall Picture Canvas Art Framed Large Oil Painting for Living Room Bedroom Office .. | white daisies framed art

framed blue and pink background with white daisies Stock Photo .. | white daisies framed art

Vintage Kay Dee Hand Prints Framed Floral Linen, Farmhouse Daisies .. | white daisies framed art

Flowers – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

Black & White Daisy – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

White Daisies Framed Art White Wash | White framed art, Daisy art .. | white daisies framed art

Art Print-Flying Solo-White Daisy Reproduction of by .. | white daisies framed art

V-inspire Paintings, 18×18 Inch Paintings White Daisy Flower Oil .. | white daisies framed art

White Daisy Petals Flowers Framed Art Giclee Art Print – white daisies framed art | white daisies framed art

The post The History of White Daisies Framed Art | white daisies framed art appeared first on Wallpaper Painting.

from Wallpaper Painting https://www.bleumultimedia.com/the-history-of-white-daisies-framed-art-white-daisies-framed-art/

#Painting Flowers #white daisies framed art

0 notes

comiccrusaders · 7 years

Text

Image Comics is pleased to reveal the six of 30 variants planned for the final month of 25th anniversary variants—October covers in homage of iconic THE WALKING DEAD cover designs.

This final month of variants will pay tribute to some of the hottest, most jaw-dropping moments from Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard’s long-running, and industry-changing series that went on to become a pop culture phenomenon.

#gallery-0-4 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-4 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Available in stores on Wednesday, October 4th (Final order cutoff deadline Monday, September 11th):

ELSEWHERE #3 by Jay Faerber & Sumeyye Kesgin, cover by Kesgin & Riley (Diamond Code AUG170648)

EXTREMITY #7 by Daniel Warren Johnson, cover by Johnson (Diamond Code AUG170650)

I HATE FAIRYLAND: I HATE IMAGE SPECIAL EDITION by Skottie Young, cover by Young (Diamond Code AUG170569)

POSTAL #23 by Bryan Hill & Isaac Goodhart, cover by Goodhart (Diamond Code JUL178342)

REGRESSION #5 by Cullen Bunn & Danny Luckert, cover by Luckert (Diamond Code AUG170713)

SOUTHERN CROSS #13 by Andy Belanger & Becky Cloonan, cover by Cloonan (Diamond Code JUL178341)

SLOTS #1 by Dan Panosian, cover by Panosian (Diamond Code AUG170588)

Available in stores on Wednesday, October 11th (Final order cutoff deadline Monday, September 18th):

BIRTHRIGHT #27 by Joshua Williamson, Adriano Lucas & Andrei Bressan, cover by Bressan & Lucas (Diamond Code AUG170606)

BLACK SCIENCE #32 by Rick Remender & Matteo Scalera, cover by Harren (Diamond Code AUG170614)

ROYAL CITY #6 by Jeff Lemire, cover by Lemire (Diamond Code AUG170721)

THE WICKED + THE DIVINE #32 by Kieron Gillen & Jamie McKelvie, cover by McKelvie (Diamond Code AUG170772)

Rob Liefeld’s YOUNGBLOOD #6 by Chad Bowers & Jim Towe, cover by Liefeld (Diamond Code AUG170775)

Available in stores on Wednesday, October 18th (Final order cutoff deadline Monday, September 25th):

CURSE WORDS #9 by Charles Soule & Ryan Browne, cover by Browne (Diamond Code AUG170633)

DESCENDER #25 by Jeff Lemire & Dustin Nguyen, cover by Nguyen (Diamond Code AUG170643)

GENERATION GONE #4 Ales Kot & Andre Araujo, cover by Araujo (Diamond Code AUG170654)

GRRL SCOUTS: MAGIC SOCKS #6 by Jim Mahfood, cover by Mahfood (Diamond Code AUG170662)

HORIZON #15 by Brandon Thomas, Juan Gedeon & Mike Spicer, cover by Gedeon & Spicer (Diamond Code AUG170668)

KILL THE MINOTAUR #5 by Chris Pasetto, Christian Cantamessa, Jean-Francois Beaulieu & Lukas Ketner, cover by Ketner & Beaulieu (Diamond Code AUG170686)

MANIFEST DESTINY #32 by Chris Dingess, Matthew Roberts & Owen Gieni, cover by Roberts & Gieni (Diamond Code AUG170695)

THE REALM #2 by Seth M. Peck & Jeremy Haun, cover by Jeremy Haun (Diamond Code AUG170710)

ROCKSTARS #8 by Joe Harris & Megan Hutchison, cover by Hutchison (Diamond Code AUG170718)

SPY SEAL #3 by Rich Tommaso, cover by Tomasso (Diamond Code AUG170739)

Available in stores on Wednesday, October 25th (Final order cutoff deadline Monday, October 2nd):

ANGELIC #2 by Si Spurrier & Caspar Wijngaard, cover by Wijngaard (Diamond Code AUG170604)

COPPERHEAD #15 by Jay Faerber, Drew Moss & Ron Riley, cover by Godlewski & Riley (Diamond Code AUG170627)

CROSSWIND #5 by Gail Simone & Cat Staggs, cover by Staggs (Diamond Code AUG170630)

GASOLINA #2 by Sean Mackiewicz, Mat Lopes & Niko Walter, cover by Walter & Lopes (Diamond Code AUG170652)

HACK/SLASH: RESURRECTION #1 by Tini Howard, Celor, K. Michael Russell, cover by Rugg (Diamond Code AUG170559)

THE HARD PLACE #3 by Doug Wagner & Nic Rummel, cover by Rummel (Diamond Code AUG170666)

SPAWN #279 by Todd McFarlane, cover by McFarlane (Diamond Code JUL178340)

UNDERWINTER: A FIELD OF FEATHERS #1 by Ray Fawkes, cover by Fawkes (Diamond Code AUG170596)

WAYWARD #24 by Jim Zub & Steven Cummings, cover by Cummings & Royce “Fooray” Southerland (Diamond Code AUG170769)

IMAGE COMICS CELEBRATES 25TH ANNIVERSARY WITH FINAL MONTH OF COVERS IN TRIBUTE TO THE WALKING DEAD Image Comics is pleased to reveal the six of 30 variants planned for the final month of 25th anniversary variants—October covers in homage of iconic THE WALKING DEAD cover designs.

#25th #comics #Image

0 notes

g33kl1f3 · 7 years