Victorian Tumblr Themes

Always the grasshopper, never the ant.

type-lover:

Impressive Calligraphy
(with this amazing final Z)
by Joan Quirós

ufansius:

Orpheus - Barbara Hepworth

ufansius:

Orpheus - Barbara Hepworth

design-is-fine:

Henri Gillet, Nouvelles fantasies décoratives, 1880-1920. France. Via NYPL

bookishthingsblog:

How to Explain Amazon’s Kindle to Charles Dickens


As a student at Cardiff School of Art and Design, illustrator Rachel Walsh was asked to create a project that would explain something modern/internet-based to somebody who lived and died before 1900. 

Walsh’s innovative idea was to take a large book and create 40 miniature books from its pages in order to explain the kindle to Dickens. The covers are recreations from real books and include Dicken’s own novels, his favourite childhood books, and some of the artist’s own.

via

scribebynight:

(✿ಠ ∩ಠ)✒ Calligraphy  📓(◡‿◡✿)

scribebynight:

(✿ಠ ∩ಠ)✒ Calligraphy 📓(◡‿◡✿)

omgthatdress:

Pendant
Fabergé, 1900
Christie’s

omgthatdress:

Pendant

Fabergé, 1900

Christie’s

skepticarcher:

Break Through

New paint plus an additional detail shot - it’s kind of a tall piece so it’s hard to really get tumblr to do it much justice. There’s a slightly bigger version of it you can see as a whole here.

Available as a new print in my Society6 shop

I rise like a red balloon, untethered and vacant.
 
The essence of my dolor has become rarefied,
Holy; like a fragrance, bodiless, without referent.
It is pale shadow on the sun, a wasp’s-wing, accidental
Splash of poison on the white rose’s thorn—
I twist it in my fingers and faint. Shall I tell you?
 
There was one bad fairy at my birth, there came one curse,
One blister, one drop of mercury in the moult of me
And everything was ruined after.
 
                                                       Still it is
No good; the words drift from me like ashes.
I am so old now, I have left half my life
In caves hollowed out in rock by the seashore:
I prayed in each one, and could not find my way back,
Or lied when the pass-word was asked, or turned my back,
Making gestures of despondency at the roiling surf.
 
                  In a mirror I shot all my hateful selves, the yesterdays.

cityworks-boston:

New vase for the show

Mary Baker Eddy Library