Showing posts with label prints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prints. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Antonius Eisenhoit (around 1553-1603)... print ...Haeresis Dea... 1589











I thought it was time to blog this image as i still get lots of enquiries on it since i first posted it back when i started blogging on myspace about 2007, and HERE she is in her detailed glory, enjoy!


















Saturday, January 14, 2012

Frank von Sepp... illustrations for Faust 1921...





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click on image to enlarge


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click on image to enlarge

~

Fill your heart to overflowing, 
and when you feel profoundest bliss, 
then call it what you will: 
Good fortune! Heart! Love! or God! 
I have no name for it! 
Feeling is all; 
the name is sound and smoke, 
beclouding Heaven's glow.



MEPHISTOPHELES The modest truth I speak to thee.
If Man, the microcosmic fool, can see
Himself a whole so frequently,
Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,--
Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,
The haughty light, which mow disputes the space,
And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.
And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, however weaves,
Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:
It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;
By bodies is its course impeded;
And so, but little time is needed,
I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! 



from Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe



previous von Sepp



Saturday, August 13, 2011

Arthur Boyd... print....1993



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The poet rejecting his Muse 1993 ~ from "The Writer and his Muse"series


previous : Arthur Boyd



Wednesday, August 10, 2011

William Blake... print & poem..1793


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"The terror answerd: I am Orc, wreath'd round the accursed tree:
The times are ended; shadows pass the morning 'gins to break;
The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands,
What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness:
That stony law I stamp to dust: and scatter religion abroad
To the four winds as a torn book, & none shall gather the leaves;
But they shall rot on desert sands, & consume in bottomless deeps;
To make the deserts blossom, & the deeps shrink to their fountains,
And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof.
That pale religious letchery, seeking Virginity,
May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty
The undefil'd tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn:
For every thing that lives is holy, life delights in life;
Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
Fires inwrap the earthly globe, yet man is not consumed;
Amidst the lustful fires he walks: his feet become like brass,
His knees and thighs like silver, & his breast and head like gold.
And Satan is the Spectre of Orc & Orc is the generate Luvah"
 
 from America : A prophecy



Saturday, June 4, 2011

W Blecher... print ...1967



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 click on image to enlarge
 

The Albatross

Often, to amuse themselves, the men of the crew
Catch those great birds of the seas, the albatrosses,
lazy companions of the voyage, who follow
The ship that slips through bitter gulfs.

Hardly have they put them on the deck,
Than these kings of the skies, awkward and ashamed,
Piteously let their great white wings
Draggle like oars beside them.

This winged traveler, how weak he becomes and slack!
He who of late was so beautiful, how comical and ugly!
Someone teases his beak with a branding iron,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!

The Poet is like the prince of the clouds,
Haunting the tempest and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.
 
Flowers of Evil - Charles Baudelaire 1857




Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hans Bellmer...print.... undated





“The body resembles a sentence that seems to invite us to dismantle it into its component letters, so that its true meanings may be revealed anew through an endless stream of anagrams.”  
Hans Bellmer

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André Pieyre de Mandiargues on Bellmer...

“He was highly intelligent and seemed to have no sense of culpability or sin—there was innocence in his perversity. His eroticism was intellectual rather than sensual, cold rather than hot: this attracted me to him because like me, he was basically a puritan, and like me, he had no time for vulgar sensuality.”



Conrad Meili 1895-1969.. print



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Maili 1931

click on image to enlarge