#moonlight in venice

[hckat]

Favourite paintings of Venice from Thomas Moran (American, 1837 – 1926): i. Moonlight in Venice, ii. View of Venice

#thomas moran #moonlight in venice #view of venice #art #art details #art history #nature #nature art #american art #american artist #artist #oil on canvas #landscape art #landscape #venice #venice art #italy #italy art #architecture art

[illustratus]

Venice, A Canal in the Moonlight by Ludwig Mecklenburg

#ludwig mecklenburg #art #venice #venetian #italy #europe #european #moonlight #moonlit #night #evening #moon #canal #boats #gondolas #gondola #buildings #architecture #gondolier #gondoliers

[rocknrolltrailertrash]

☆Bang Bang Kiss Kiss☆

#vintage #vintage americana #lana del rey aesthetic #lana del rey #summer #summer aesthetic #born to die summer #born to die #ride lana del rey #cola lana del rey #shades of cool #venice bitch #vintage aesthetic #lust for life #gods and monsters #west coast lana del rey #brooklyn baby #gif #in the pale moonlight #trailer park darling #trash magic #trailer park princess #groupie aesthetic #groupie love

[the-cricket-chirps]

Yoshijiro Urushibara, Grand Canal, Venice, 19th-20th century

Arthur Streeton, Moonlight, Venice, 1908

#Yoshijiro Urushibara #Arthur Streeton #australian painter #australian artist #japanese prints #japanese artist #japanese art #asian art #venice #venice italy #venice canals #moonlight #nightscape #cityscape #aesthetic #beauty #modern art #art history #aesthetictumblr #tumblraesthetic #tumblrpic #tumblrpictures #tumblr art #tumblrstyle #artists on tumblr

[dreams-of-mutiny]

Venice by Moonlight Ippolito Caffi

#Venice by Moonlight #Ippolito Caffi

[1five1two]

'The Punta della Dogana and Santa Maria della Salute, Venice in moonlight'. Giovanni Grubacs. 1829-1919.

#art #landscape art #venice #moonlight #vintage art

[4eternal-life]

Edward John Poynter  (English, 1836 – 1919)

A Moonlight Scene, Venice (1879)

© Artvee.com

#edward john poynter #venice #english art #pre raphaelite #moonlight #british art #edward poynter #marine art #art #cityscapes #Artvee.com #mu art #mu

[stigmatam4rtyr]

Venice in the Moonlight | Luigi Bartezzaghi

#art #fine art #painting #19th century #venice in the moonlight #vendig im mondschein #luigi bartezzaghi #venice #dark art #dark aesthetic #aesthetic #moonlight #old art

[kestarren]

San Giorgio from Doge's Palace by Moonlight, circa 1895. Old photo by unknown.

#vintage photos #moonlight #venice

[random-brushstrokes]

Luigi Bartezzaghi (Italian, 1829-1905) - Venice by moonlight

#Luigi Bartezzaghi #italian art #nightscape #cityscape #venice

[illustratus]

A Moonlight Scene, Venice by Edward Poynter

#edward poynter #art #venice #moonlit #moonlight #moon #italy #venetian #europe #european #gondola #gondolier #architecture #boats

[typewriter-worries]

anyway, my dearest one, we still have the moon

Elegy for the Four Chambers of My Brothers Heart, Steven Espada Dawson (@lilllium) | Twickenham, Middlesex, by Moonlight, Henry Pether | @letsbelonelytogetherr | Landscape, Moonlight, Simon Mathurin Lantara | baby loves, Ariana Grande | The South Bay at Night with Full Moon, Walter Linsley Meegan | (Back To Satie), Frank O’Hara | Venice, Moonlight Christopher Williams

#steven espada dawson #henry pether #simon mathurin lantara #ariana grande #walter linsley meegan #frank o'hara #christopher williams #webweaving #web weaving #parallels #dark academia #classic academia #light academia #space academia #space aesthetic #mooncore #moon academia #margaret atwood

[pwlanier]

Italian School, 19th Century

Venice, the Piazzetta San Marco in Moonlight, oil on canvas

Dorotheum

[jegskalfiksedet]

reposting my old VegasPete murder husbands musings here because I miss them:

—

so imagine:

Vegas being kidnapped by the italians in retribution for their leader being offed by our favorite red flag. Being beaten to a pulp and a message sent to Kinn - ‘we have him’.

About 9 hours later all lights go off in a warehouse. Sound of shots and men yelling bloody murder ring through the doors of the makeshift cell their keeping our devil incarnate at, tied to a flimsy metal chair. With a bang doors burst open. A single silhouette emerges. Two practiced shots - one straight in a forehead, second to the gut (some well deserved pain for a good measure). A squelching stab of an eye and a grotesque yell followed by a menacing whisper ‘take a good look with the one you have left, this is what happens when you try to take what’s mine’.

Pete comes into the square of moonlight casting through the lone window of the dingy room. Face splattered with fresh crimson, eyes darting from tips of raven hair to toes clad in (ironically) italian leather. Landing at last a little sideways, at hands that hold ropes long untied.

Seriously? you know i had the training to take care of today. And with Venice teething..” an eyebrow arched in slight annoyance.

Vegas has to cough a couple of times to get his voice working, scratchy after hours of disuse: “well I figured I deserved a bit of saving. I can barely get a whiff of you before you leave the bed at fuck all hours in the morning these days”

“Vegas, we agreed…”

“I know, I know” the rope that’s been undone hours ago falling from his wrists, hands coming up in a surrendering acknowledgment, in a placating call for ‘bare with me here, love’: “I’ll stay at home with Ven for the next couple of days, take him to the pediatrician’s appointment”

Vegas rises from the chair, albeit a bit wobbly, so Pete has to reach out to worm his hands around his husband’s waist, keeping him upright.

“I know, baby. But I couldn’t give up the chance to see you all bloodied and vengeful for me now could I?” A featherlight brush of lips against the shell of Pete’s ear: “I’ll make it up to you”

“Oh, you will” solid, a promise. But Pete can’t quite hide the smirk that starts blooming at the corners of his lips.

“Where did you leave Ven?“

“At Khuns” Pete answers with an air of nonchalance that definitely doesn’t resonate with his husban’s petty resentment towards his son being babysat once again by his eldest cousin. Seriously, it has become too frequent to Vegas’ liking, how often his child has been subjected to the torture that is the presence of Thankun Theerapanyakul.

“Pete..” Vegas half whines in annoyance and half vinces from the throbbing pain at the right side of his ribs as Pete twists one of the arms around his middle to steer them towards the exit.

‘That’s what you get, you dumb oaf, for making me come all the way out here while you could’ve easily freed yourself’ Pete thinks. But instead of voicing his thoughts he stops, turns Vegas to face him, and brings a trembling palm to his husbands cheek. Eyes lock for a second that feels more like an hour. One pair breaking its facade and misting over. A kiss lands onto parched, awaiting lips.

“Fuck, Vegas…” a shakey breath between two lungs: “if anything happe-“

“I’m okay, baby. we’re okay. You got me”

#vegaspete #i miss these beautiful and deranged husbands #vegas theerapanyakul #pete phongsakorn #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #vegaspete fic

[burningvelvet]

Powerful women from the classical world + excerpt of a letter from Lord Byron to Thomas Moore describing his lover Margarita Cogni (Venice, September 19th, 1818):

“I wish you a good night, with a Venetian benediction, ‘Benedetto te, e la terra che ti fara!’ — ‘May you be blessed, and the earth which you will make!’ — is it not pretty? You would think it still prettier if you had heard it, as I did two hours ago, from the lips of a Venetian girl, with large black eyes, a face like Faustina’s, and the figure of a Juno — tall and energetic as a Pythoness, with eyes flashing, and her dark hair streaming in the moonlight — one of those women who may be made any thing. I am sure if I put a poniard into the hand of this one, she would plunge it where I told her, — and into me, if I offended her. I like this kind of animal, and am sure that I should have preferred Medea to any woman that ever breathed.”

The mythical and historical allusions:

In Roman myth, Juno was Queen of the Gods as well as a military figure often depicted armed. In Greek myth, Medea was a sorceress who gets revenge against her unfaithful husband through murdering their children and his lover. Although “Pythoness” could refer to demonic witches in other uses, Byron is using it here as another name for Pythia or the Oracle of Delphi, a divine priestess and the most powerful female office in the ancient world.

Faustina is either a reference to the Younger or the Elder. Faustina the Younger was the wife of Marcus Aurelius; he revered her so much that he gave her enormous power, although later historians (probably falsely) accused her of being a murderer and adulteress. Faustina the Elder was the adoptive mother of Marcus Aurelius and was one of the most beloved Roman women in history, whose coinage often features Juno.

Byron's life and writing in context:

When he was living abroad in self-exile, Byron often sought to entertain his friends back home by sharing his adventures in lurid detail. His vivid letters became well-read throughout the 1800s, and are considered some of his best writing. Travel writing and adventure stories were extremely popular in the 19th century, and even most of Byron’s fiction champions these themes. Living abroad and traveling became marketable parts of Byron's celebrity. He blended his own experiences into his work, and chief among these were his romantic experiences.

Shelley once compared Byron to the Greek myth of Circe when writing in a letter about Byron's excessive amount of pets. Circe was known for seducing men and turning them into animals who roamed around her palace. Like a witch or an alchemist, Byron frequently transformed his lovers into characters through his writing. Like countless others, Margarita Cogni was mythically immortalized through the writer's description of her. She and Byron's other Venetian lovers have become part of the wider Romantic era mythology tradition, like the constantly retold tales of Mary Shelley's invention of Frankenstein, Percy Shelley's drowning, and John Keats' love for Fanny Brawne.

By using references to classical women in this letter Byron is not only paying tribute to mythology, history, and the Italian landscape in a way that his foreign audience would find tantalizing, but he is also exploring romanticized notions of classical female beauty which are at turns conventional and unconventional. He channels the gothic sublime through the otherworldly power and danger these women all represent, as well as channeling more traditional concepts of feminine strength rooted in modesty, beauty, and passivity. Byron creates poetic contradictions.

Just as he famously describes himself as “changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long,” he utilizes paradox and inconstance in his writing, such as in this satirical formulation of Margarita Cogni as the ideal lover who is both Goddess and woman, mistress and slave, contemporary and classical, masculine and feminine, wife and adulteress, murderess and murdered.

One can clearly see how this is the same chameolonic, binary-blurring poet who would go on to write the gender-bending themes of Don Juan — “If people contradict themselves, can I / Help contradicting them, and every body, / Even my veracious self?” — and who years beforehand had written She Walks in Beauty — where “all that’s best of dark and bright / Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

#literature #english literature #lord byron #romanticism #poetry #dark academia #aesthetic #history #mythology #analysis #my analysis #my writing #my essays #byron #poems #letters #women #art #myth #greek #roman #british #english #academia #the romantics #love #romance

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 [𝐁𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐇]

PAIRINGS —  Bobby Nash x GN!Reader

SUMMARY —  Bobby goes to Venice beach after a hard 48 hour shift

WARNINGS — mentions of death, angst, sadness

NOTE — This is a lot shorter than what I normally write but I had an itch to write something based on My Heart is Buried in Venice and this scene came to my mind hope you guys enjoy being hurt as much as i do ._.

My Heart is Buried in Venice | Ricky Montgomery

The waves crashed quietly against the shore while the water reflected the sparkling stars. Bobby dropped his phone in the sand and sat down facing the ocean. He hadn’t slept properly in 48 hours, the end of a long shift filled him with restlessness and an inability to close his eyes. So he stared at the horizon, where the water met the sky and the stars and moon danced in their reflections.

It had been a difficult few days, the team was all feeling it, he only hoped that after taking the time to speak with each of them they felt a little better than he did.

He felt the sand shift next to him and when he turned his head he saw you squatting down into a seated position to join him.

He frowned, he hadn’t told anyone he was coming here.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked simply, turning back to look at the rippling water.

“You always come here when you’re upset,” you shrugged. “Thought it was worth a try.”

He nodded his head and continued to stay silent. You gave him a moment to adjust to your presence before carefully moving closer to him and holding his hand that was nearest to you, fingers intertwined.

You knew why he came here. Somewhere that seemed so unlike his usual scene. He said his heart was buried here. You never really knew what that meant, but it made it a little easier to find him on days like this.

Bobby leaned a little closer to you, his head finding a comfortable place to rest on your shoulder. His attitude over the years had changed so strikingly compared to the closed off, reserved, and efficient fire Captain you had first met, and for that you were grateful. You held him close and pressed a kiss to his temple,

“You don’t have to be strong for me,” you whispered. “Not like you are for everyone else. You know that.”

He nodded his head slowly, his composed façade cracking with every word and action of compassion and comfort.

“It’s his birthday today, isn’t it?” you asked and Bobby nodded again, a few tears managing to slip through.

“He would have been 17,” he whispered, the first time he had spoken up since you first arrived. “I used to promise him and his sister that I’d bring them here someday.”

He sniffed and squeezed your hand a little tighter, shutting his eyes so his tears couldn’t glisten in the moonlight.

“I wish I brought them here when they were still alive,” he choked slightly on his words, “But all I ever did was spread their ashes here.”

You shut your eyes, fighting back your own tears while he trembled against you.

“I’m just so tired,” he broke down into tears, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You let go of Bobby’s hand and pulled him closer to you, cradling his head gently.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I-I’m-,”

“Shh,” you hushed him gently. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Bobby was always everyone’s shoulder to lean on, but that never meant he was immune to what came with the job. Just maybe a little better at hiding it than everyone else.

“You’re allowed to be tired,” you told him. “Allowed to not be okay, you’re allowed to miss them, Bobby. But you’re not allowed to deal with this alone. There’s always someone out there who cares for you, whether it’s me, or Buck, Chim, Hen, Eddie. We all love you. I love you.”

It wasn’t an uncommon exchange of words between you and your teammates, but something this time made it feel different.

Bobby nodded his head again and wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his sweater.

He lifted his head from your shoulder and turned to look at you. It was clear you could both do with a little rest and relaxation, but this was one of those moments where life goes on, with or without you.

He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and leaned down slightly to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too.”

You closed your eyes for a moment at the sound of those words. It was the best way he knew how to say thank you for looking out for me. You took his hand in yours again and pushed yourself up off the sand.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

He followed your lead and grabbed his phone from next to him, before walking with you, side by side away from the shore.

All those times, spent alone by the water and all he ever really needed was someone to bring him home.

#bobby nash #bobby nash x reader #911 #911 fox #bobby nash fanfiction #bobby nash fanfic #911 x reader #911reader