magnolias in bloom

are lovely.

18 Sep

(Source: letthefairyinyoufly)

18 Sep

rrueplumet:

PHANTOM - MODERN AU 
after a trying semester at a parisian music academy, a trial riddled with mystery, danger, and passion, christine and raoul return to the coast, to sanctuary, to the houses by the sea where they grew up. it is a place that feels safe, far from the reach of the city’s shadows.  after feeling lost, alone, and terribly frightened for so long, they feel to have returned home. 

18 Sep theoddmentemporium:

Tear Catcher
A tear catcher, also called a Tear Bottle is typically an ornamental vase piece, made from blown glass and dyed appropriately to the creator’s taste. There is an attached glass fixture at the opening of the stem that is formed to [the] eye. In ancient Persia, when a sultan returned from battle, he checked his wives’ tear catchers to see who among them had wept in his absence and missed him the most.
Tear Catchers were commonly used during Ancient Roman times, with mourners filling glass bottles with their tears, and placing them in tombs as a symbol of their respect for the deceased. It was also used to show remorse, guilt, love and grief. The women cried during the procession, and the more tears collected in tear bottles meant the deceased was more important. The bottles used during the Roman era were lavishly decorated and measured up to four inches in height. Tear bottles were designed with special seals, which allowed the tears to evaporate. By the time that the tears were assumed to have evaporated, the mourning period was considered over.
In the 19th century during the Victorian era in the British Empire tear bottles made a comeback among the wealthy. These were more elaborate than their Roman predecessors, and were often decorated with silver and pewter.
[Image: Silver Victorian tear catcher]

theoddmentemporium:

Tear Catcher

A tear catcher, also called a Tear Bottle is typically an ornamental vase piece, made from blown glass and dyed appropriately to the creator’s taste. There is an attached glass fixture at the opening of the stem that is formed to [the] eye. In ancient Persia, when a sultan returned from battle, he checked his wives’ tear catchers to see who among them had wept in his absence and missed him the most.

Tear Catchers were commonly used during Ancient Roman times, with mourners filling glass bottles with their tears, and placing them in tombs as a symbol of their respect for the deceased. It was also used to show remorse, guilt, love and grief. The women cried during the procession, and the more tears collected in tear bottles meant the deceased was more important. The bottles used during the Roman era were lavishly decorated and measured up to four inches in height. Tear bottles were designed with special seals, which allowed the tears to evaporate. By the time that the tears were assumed to have evaporated, the mourning period was considered over.

In the 19th century during the Victorian era in the British Empire tear bottles made a comeback among the wealthy. These were more elaborate than their Roman predecessors, and were often decorated with silver and pewter.

[Image: Silver Victorian tear catcher]

18 Sep

(Source: isaaclahye)

18 Sep fuckyeahrenaissancewomen:

Women of the Italian Renaissance | ISABELLA D’ARAGONA (1470-1524)
The daughter of King Alfonso of Naples and his learned wife, Ippolita Maria Sforza, Isabella grew into an intelligent and cultured young woman. At the age of eighteen she left her childhood home to be married to her cousin Gian Galeazzo Sforza, the Duke of Milan. A letter from her lady-in-waiting, Violante da Canossa, reveals something of Isabella’s anxieties on the eve of her wedding:

“[T]hat night my Lady Isabella would have no one near her but myself. I dared not question her or even try to speak faltering words of comfort and encouragement, lest the self-control for which my darling fought so bravely should utterly break down. She was pale as death, but she shed no tears, and her silence was more eloquent than speech. I, who watched over her, know that the whole night was one long vigil, spent in prayer and meditation. But when the morning dawned, her sweet face was calm and untroubled. Alas ! she was cold and stately as a marble statue. The victory was won, but at what a price none would ever know.”

Isabella was right to be afraid. The warning signs had already begun presenting themselves during the wedding procession: the first time she met her new mother-in-law, Bona of Savoy, the woman warned Isabella in no uncertain terms that Gian Galeazzo had no power in Milan. His uncle, Ludovico “il Moro” Sforza, who had ruled as the boy’s regent, continued to govern and had clear ambitions to take the title of Duke for himself. Isabella quickly realised how right Bona was. Gian Galeazzo may have been ruler in name, but Ludovico was the one who called all the shots while the Duke was content to fill his time with hunting and riding. When Isabella tried to encourage her new husband to assert his authority, Gian Galeazzo would nod solemnly and seem to agree, only to promptly inform Ludovico of everything she had said.
The vibrant intellectual culture of Milan provided some reprieve from her hopeless husband and his conniving uncle. She would often host literary and musical evenings, filled with performances from accomplished musicians, lively literary debates and readings of poetry and prose. Among the frequent attendees were Matteo Bandello, Bellincione, Niccolo da Correggio and Leonardo da Vinci. Da Vinci would remain friendly with Isabella throughout her time in Mantua; while working on his famous Last Supper, he would show her his sketches and invite her to watch him at work on the painting. Isabella also found comfort in her three children, Francesco, Bona and Ippolita, whom she loved dearly.
In 1491 Ludovico married Isabella’s cousin and childhood companion, Beatrice d’Este. The two women readily resumed their friendship, but a competitive element soon crept in. Both lovers of riding, they would often race one another at furious speeds, alarming their ladies-in-waiting. On one occasion, Violante urged Isabella be careful not to overexert herself:

“The sweet lady silenced me with a kiss, and replied with wistful earnestness: ‘What else can I do, Violante? As I am placed, I must either swim with the tide or sink to the depths of despair. Can you not see that in this desperate rivalry with Beatrice, I must either prove myself her equal, or else entirely give up my position, and calmly consent to take the second place? So far it is a personal contest between myself and my cousin, and if I succeed in holding my own, I shall be able to help my husband in that yet more serious struggle which must come between him and his uncle.”

Gian Galeazzo, it seemed, didn’t want any help, remaining either oblivious or simply uncaring towards his uncle’s scheming. He became increasingly prone to drunkenness and erratic behaviours, at times becoming physically abusive, and eventually became bedridden with illness. Isabella was left to contend alone with Ludovico’s (ultimately unsuccessful) attempts to smear her reputation and frame her as a poisoner. Gian Galeazzo died in 1494, throwing Isabella into a deep depression. At 23, she was already a widow.
The next few years were black ones for Isabella. Her husband was dead, his usurper still alive and aiding the French in their invasion of Naples, her homeland. Her father and brother died soon after, along with her beloved sister-in-law Anna Sforza and her cousin Beatrice. After Beatrice’s death, a grieving Ludovico evicted Isabella and her daughters from the castle, while keeping her son as a hostage.
In 1499 the French invaded Naples, forcing Ludovico to flee. Their King, Louis XII, treated Isabella kindly and seemed particularly taken with her young son, inviting him to stay in the castle to see the French horses and dogs. Isabella farewelled Francesco happily, never realising it would be the last time she saw him: days later, when Louis departed for France, he took with him the rightful Duke of Milan as a hostage. Isabella wrote letter after letter, promising exorbitant bribes and begging for her son’s return — but all in vain. Her last tie with Milan had been broken. Francesco was out of her reach, and any hope of regaining his birthright was lost. Taking her two daughters, Isabella returned home to Naples.
In 1501 she was given the duchy of Bari, the principality of Rossano and the county of Borello, where she finally had the freedom to govern that had been denied her in Milan. She introduced various reforms, including more rigorous surveillance of public officials to weed out corruption. She oversaw numerous public works, improved defences and, as she had in Milan, sought to surround herself with artists and writers. 
Tragedy nonetheless continued to follow Isabella: her youngest daughter, Ippolita, died at the tender age of seven. Francesco was peacefully situated in France — he had been placed in a monastery and was eventually appointed Abbot of Noirmountiers — but he, too, died young at age 21. The grieving mother lavished her love and attention on her surviving daughter, Bona, providing the girl with an exceptional education and ultimately securing for her an advantageous marriage to King Sigismund I of Poland. Isabella herself continued to rule over Bari until her death.

fuckyeahrenaissancewomen:

Women of the Italian Renaissance | ISABELLA D’ARAGONA (1470-1524)

The daughter of King Alfonso of Naples and his learned wife, Ippolita Maria Sforza, Isabella grew into an intelligent and cultured young woman. At the age of eighteen she left her childhood home to be married to her cousin Gian Galeazzo Sforza, the Duke of Milan. A letter from her lady-in-waiting, Violante da Canossa, reveals something of Isabella’s anxieties on the eve of her wedding:

“[T]hat night my Lady Isabella would have no one near her but myself. I dared not question her or even try to speak faltering words of comfort and encouragement, lest the self-control for which my darling fought so bravely should utterly break down. She was pale as death, but she shed no tears, and her silence was more eloquent than speech. I, who watched over her, know that the whole night was one long vigil, spent in prayer and meditation. But when the morning dawned, her sweet face was calm and untroubled. Alas ! she was cold and stately as a marble statue. The victory was won, but at what a price none would ever know.”

Isabella was right to be afraid. The warning signs had already begun presenting themselves during the wedding procession: the first time she met her new mother-in-law, Bona of Savoy, the woman warned Isabella in no uncertain terms that Gian Galeazzo had no power in Milan. His uncle, Ludovico “il Moro” Sforza, who had ruled as the boy’s regent, continued to govern and had clear ambitions to take the title of Duke for himself. Isabella quickly realised how right Bona was. Gian Galeazzo may have been ruler in name, but Ludovico was the one who called all the shots while the Duke was content to fill his time with hunting and riding. When Isabella tried to encourage her new husband to assert his authority, Gian Galeazzo would nod solemnly and seem to agree, only to promptly inform Ludovico of everything she had said.

The vibrant intellectual culture of Milan provided some reprieve from her hopeless husband and his conniving uncle. She would often host literary and musical evenings, filled with performances from accomplished musicians, lively literary debates and readings of poetry and prose. Among the frequent attendees were Matteo Bandello, Bellincione, Niccolo da Correggio and Leonardo da Vinci. Da Vinci would remain friendly with Isabella throughout her time in Mantua; while working on his famous Last Supper, he would show her his sketches and invite her to watch him at work on the painting. Isabella also found comfort in her three children, Francesco, Bona and Ippolita, whom she loved dearly.

In 1491 Ludovico married Isabella’s cousin and childhood companion, Beatrice d’Este. The two women readily resumed their friendship, but a competitive element soon crept in. Both lovers of riding, they would often race one another at furious speeds, alarming their ladies-in-waiting. On one occasion, Violante urged Isabella be careful not to overexert herself:

“The sweet lady silenced me with a kiss, and replied with wistful earnestness: ‘What else can I do, Violante? As I am placed, I must either swim with the tide or sink to the depths of despair. Can you not see that in this desperate rivalry with Beatrice, I must either prove myself her equal, or else entirely give up my position, and calmly consent to take the second place? So far it is a personal contest between myself and my cousin, and if I succeed in holding my own, I shall be able to help my husband in that yet more serious struggle which must come between him and his uncle.”

Gian Galeazzo, it seemed, didn’t want any help, remaining either oblivious or simply uncaring towards his uncle’s scheming. He became increasingly prone to drunkenness and erratic behaviours, at times becoming physically abusive, and eventually became bedridden with illness. Isabella was left to contend alone with Ludovico’s (ultimately unsuccessful) attempts to smear her reputation and frame her as a poisoner. Gian Galeazzo died in 1494, throwing Isabella into a deep depression. At 23, she was already a widow.

The next few years were black ones for Isabella. Her husband was dead, his usurper still alive and aiding the French in their invasion of Naples, her homeland. Her father and brother died soon after, along with her beloved sister-in-law Anna Sforza and her cousin Beatrice. After Beatrice’s death, a grieving Ludovico evicted Isabella and her daughters from the castle, while keeping her son as a hostage.

In 1499 the French invaded Naples, forcing Ludovico to flee. Their King, Louis XII, treated Isabella kindly and seemed particularly taken with her young son, inviting him to stay in the castle to see the French horses and dogs. Isabella farewelled Francesco happily, never realising it would be the last time she saw him: days later, when Louis departed for France, he took with him the rightful Duke of Milan as a hostage. Isabella wrote letter after letter, promising exorbitant bribes and begging for her son’s return — but all in vain. Her last tie with Milan had been broken. Francesco was out of her reach, and any hope of regaining his birthright was lost. Taking her two daughters, Isabella returned home to Naples.

In 1501 she was given the duchy of Bari, the principality of Rossano and the county of Borello, where she finally had the freedom to govern that had been denied her in Milan. She introduced various reforms, including more rigorous surveillance of public officials to weed out corruption. She oversaw numerous public works, improved defences and, as she had in Milan, sought to surround herself with artists and writers. 

Tragedy nonetheless continued to follow Isabella: her youngest daughter, Ippolita, died at the tender age of seven. Francesco was peacefully situated in France — he had been placed in a monastery and was eventually appointed Abbot of Noirmountiers — but he, too, died young at age 21. The grieving mother lavished her love and attention on her surviving daughter, Bona, providing the girl with an exceptional education and ultimately securing for her an advantageous marriage to King Sigismund I of Poland. Isabella herself continued to rule over Bari until her death.

18 Sep hannibalacious:

knitmeapony:

demonhamster:

despotic:

suicidemydarling:

gigantorthemooseking:

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the band, she dragged me along) when I was 16. They were starting a wall of death and this guy who was flirting with me decides it would be funny to pull my top down, exposing my breasts, then throw me in the middle of this wall of death right as it’s about to meet. When I stumble in the middle and hit the wall someone screamed “STOP! EXPOSED GIRL!” and I thought they were all going to oggle at me. Instead, one guy quickly helped me cover up, three more helped me to my feet, and another asked who did that. When I pointed out the guy, two of them looked at him, me, each other, then nodded and punched the guy in the face before forcing him into the wall that was about to form again.
Metal men are gentlemenly as shit.

This fucking this^^^ 

I’ve always loved this.

I went to my first concert a few months ago and there were these really tall men with black vest tops and tattoos and piercings surrounding us screaming loudly when the music started playing, but then we realised this kid in the crowd had lost his mum so they tried to comfort him and when he started crying they asked him his name and he shakily sobbed “Eliot” at which point they lifted him in the air onto the shoulder’s and shouted at the top of their lungs “ELIOT’S MUM, ELIOT IS LOOKING FOR YOU. EXCUSE ME HAS ANYONE SEEN ELIOT’S MUM!!!” at which point Eliot started giggling between sobs until he finally found his mum while in the air.

Seriously, I have felt safer in groups of death metal dudes than in the group of the preppiest preps that ever prepped.

I have found this to be true of most scary-looking groups of guys…bikers have always been very polite, when I meet them, and so have Metalheads.

hannibalacious:

knitmeapony:

demonhamster:

despotic:

suicidemydarling:

gigantorthemooseking:

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the band, she dragged me along) when I was 16. They were starting a wall of death and this guy who was flirting with me decides it would be funny to pull my top down, exposing my breasts, then throw me in the middle of this wall of death right as it’s about to meet. When I stumble in the middle and hit the wall someone screamed “STOP! EXPOSED GIRL!” and I thought they were all going to oggle at me. Instead, one guy quickly helped me cover up, three more helped me to my feet, and another asked who did that. When I pointed out the guy, two of them looked at him, me, each other, then nodded and punched the guy in the face before forcing him into the wall that was about to form again.

Metal men are gentlemenly as shit.

This fucking this^^^ 

I’ve always loved this.

I went to my first concert a few months ago and there were these really tall men with black vest tops and tattoos and piercings surrounding us screaming loudly when the music started playing, but then we realised this kid in the crowd had lost his mum so they tried to comfort him and when he started crying they asked him his name and he shakily sobbed “Eliot” at which point they lifted him in the air onto the shoulder’s and shouted at the top of their lungs “ELIOT’S MUM, ELIOT IS LOOKING FOR YOU. EXCUSE ME HAS ANYONE SEEN ELIOT’S MUM!!!” at which point Eliot started giggling between sobs until he finally found his mum while in the air.

Seriously, I have felt safer in groups of death metal dudes than in the group of the preppiest preps that ever prepped.

I have found this to be true of most scary-looking groups of guys…bikers have always been very polite, when I meet them, and so have Metalheads.

(Source: psihoticno-sarkasticna)

18 Sep

madsaboutmikkelsen:

He-Ate-Us Meme | [1/3] locations - Hannibal’s kitchen

I transferred my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts

18 Sep 4gifs:

Litter vigilante. [video]

4gifs:

Litter vigilante. [video]

18 Sep

liona5:

→ dressed to rule, dressed to love, dressed to kill.

(Source: queenrhaenyra)

18 Sep

“So then. I shall become a nun. For I shall never love a husband as I love you, Cesare.”

(Source: borgiese)

18 Sep

anthonyedwardstarks:

During rehearsals, Brad Pitt and Edward Norton found out that they both hated the new Volkswagen Beetle with a passion, and for the scene where Tyler and The Narrator are hitting cars with baseball bats, Pitt and Norton insisted that one of the cars be a Beetle. As Norton explains on the DVD commentary, he hates the car because the Beetle was one of the primary symbols of 60s youth culture and freedom. However, the youth of the 60s had become the corporate bosses of the 90s, and had repackaged the symbol of their own youth, selling it to the youth of another generation as if it didn’t mean anything. Both Norton and Pitt felt that this kind of corporate selling out was exactly what the film was railing against, hence the inclusion of the car; “It’s a perfect example of the Baby Boomer generation marketing its youth culture to us. As if our happiness is going to come by buying the symbol of their youth movement, even with the little flower holder in the plastic molding. It’s appalling to me. I hate it.” 

18 Sep

hannibalacious:

brasspistol:

every time I see this it gets reblogged

she needs to DIE…

(Source: sandandglass)

18 Sep fellowteen:

this is the most beautiful and amazing thing i have ever read in my entire life and it makes me so so happy

fellowteen:

this is the most beautiful and amazing thing i have ever read in my entire life and it makes me so so happy

18 Sep
Joaquin Phoenix photographed by Tom Munro

(Source: mattybing1025)

18 Sep undercover-witch:

You do know the one with the beautifully colored plumage is the male peacock and it only presents itself like that to attract the plain colored female, right?
So basically the only role your fabulousness has is to impress the plain ol’ me. And I may or may not give a fuck.

undercover-witch:

You do know the one with the beautifully colored plumage is the male peacock and it only presents itself like that to attract the plain colored female, right?

So basically the only role your fabulousness has is to impress the plain ol’ me. And I may or may not give a fuck.

image

image

image

(Source: dboybaker)