Decided to draw all the main Demons characters, so far I have finished Nikolai, Pyotr, Liza and Dasha
You with your precious eyes —
The gods differ from mortals here not because they are above the law but because they possess the insight to avoid breaking it. This marks the difference between gods and mortals perhaps more deeply than death itself: the gods never find themselves in the position of Oedipus, suddenly and unimaginably guilty. They are able to avoid actions whose consequences they cannot control; mortals risk such consequences in their every action. And perhaps it is even a kindness that transgression and death go hand in hand, that those who cannot die need not sin: for one who has broken the law which even the gods fear, the best thing is to die quickly.
-incest, cannibalism, and the rise of the house of atreus, michael kinnucan
So the ubiquitous counsel of the chorus concerning the hero—look what fortune has done here, she used to be on top of the world, don’t count on happiness, don’t believe anyone happy until he is dead—says more than it seems to. In the last analysis, what can one say of mere mortals? A human is just too partial, too speckled and subject and already-half-gone, for anything to be really true or false of him. Is he happy, is she sad? Maybe, a bit, for a time, but really—who can say, who can even care? That’s how it is for humans, unless and until they are tragic. The tragic hero is complete. You can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. For an instant he is something like divine. And then he dies, because there’s nothing left to do. The center of every tragedy is the image of a human being who has already died but keeps talking, someone whose face is a mask. Antigone says this explicitly—she is already dead; Oedipus acts it out in gouging out his eyes.
-the gods show up, michael kinnucan
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In Strange Seas (detail), c. 1889.
George Willoughby Maynard (American, 1843–1923)
Oil on canvas
91.8 x 127.8 cm
i must not afternoon nap. afternoon nap is the mind-killer. afternoon nap is the little death that brings total obliteration. i will face my afternoon sleepy tired and permit it to pass over and through me. and when it has gone i will turn the inner eye to see its path. where the afternoon sleepy tired has gone there will be nothing. only i will remain
there is love in this story. even in its most brutal end. there is love in the story. how? where? here: here in me telling it to you, in spite of everything. because of everything.
“We often forget that WE ARE NATURE. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature. We’ve lost our connection to ourselves.”
— Andy Goldsworthy
knowing thyself is the way to know the universe and viceversa: symmetry it's the constant
If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.
overgrown bat, occultist, alchemist, aspiring potion maker, least but not last, poet.
172 posts