travellinglight:

[via hungryghoast]

Beings which reproduce themselves are distinct from one another, and those reproduced are likewise distinct from each other, just as they are distinct from their parents. Each being is distinct from all others. His birth, his death, the events of his life may have an interest for others, but he alone is directly concerned in them. He is born alone. He dies alone. Between one being and another, there is a gulf, a discontinuity. This gulf exists, for instance, between you, listening to me, and me, speaking to you. We are attempting to communicate, but no communication between us can abolish our fundamental difference. If you die, it is not my death. You and I are discontinuous beings. But I cannot refer to this gulf which separates us without feeling that this is not the whole truth of the matter. It is a deep gulf, and I do not see how it can be done away with. None the less, we can experience its dizziness together. It can hypnotize us. This gulf is death in one sense, and death is vertiginous, death is hypnotizing.

Erotism: death & sensuality By Georges Bataille

I just love that Bernini’s St. Theresa is on this book cover.

Fantastic 18th-c. tea service in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

medieval:

The Luttrell Psalter is one of the most famous medieval manuscripts because of its rich illustrations of everyday life in the 14th century. It was made in the diocese of Lincoln for Sir Geoffrey Luttrell (1276 - 1345) of Irnham, probably sometime between 1325 and 1335.

via www.bl.uk

leeping comes after the eating on this long, Thanksgiving weekend.  Yesterday involved lolling around feeling full.  This morning, I went for a run which makes me feel ok shuffling room to room and napping the afternoon away.  Here’s a great painting of the Sleeping Jesse in St. Michael’s in Hildesheim, home of the famous bronze doors, which I’ll post soon.

ieter Bruegel the Elder, The Land of Cockaigne, 1567.  In the Alte Pinakothek, Munich.  Cockaigne was a mythical glutton’s paradise.  To get there, one had to eat through a thicket of porridge.  Once there, you were surrounded by endless heaps of food.  Here, a soldier, farmer, and scholar lie on the ground as roasted pigs run around (with a knife so you can carve off what you want) and soft boiled eggs scamper to and fro.  The roof on the house to the left is made of pancakes.  I thought this was an appropriate post-Thanksgiving image.  To those who celebrated yesterday, I hope your holiday was filled with good food and delightful company!

iheartswitzerland:

ablankspace:

Woodcut of Spheres seen over Basel, Switzerland
August 7, 1566.
(Wickiana Collection, Zurich Central Library)

marsiouxpial:

Ulisse Aldrovandi, Monstrorum historia (via renzodionigi)