secret garden dress by Chotronette,
a design duo comprised of Silvia Chiteala and Laura Cazacu,
based in Iasi, Romania.

a swoon-worthy performance poetry piece from the very swoon-worthy Andrea Gibson.

simply beautiful watercolors & words.
contains nudity - may not be safe for work.
http://noshoes-noworries.tumblr.com/post/57518958760

"Shhhh! She is traveling between worlds right now. You can see her holding the tension of not knowing ~ she is simply breathing into her unanswered questions. Sometimes she drinks her coffee with quaking hands, not knowing where her relationship or her bank account is going. But this time, she is holding onto the tension of not knowing, and is not willing to hit the panic button. She is unlearning thousands of years of conditioning. She is not being split between the opposing forces of fight and flight. She is neither naïve nor ignorant. She is a frontier woman, paving new roads & making new choices. She is willing to make a new transcendent possibility emerge. You may see her now ~ standing at thresholds, or at crossroads ~ breathing into her body ~ intently listening for inner signals. She's learning new navigation skills as she arrives at a most magical moment of her life."
~ Sukhvinder Sircar

a beautiful way to lead yourself into meditation...

initiation

You don't need a sweat lodge stripping your secrets bare. You don't need a hailstorm drilling you hellward. You don't need the hands of a priest, the call of the wild, a mikvah, a marriage, a set of inscrutable symbols branded on your skin. You don't need your past tossed into the fire, or a drum beaten to oblivion. You don't need grief. You don't need drowning. You don't need silence. You don't need a fist squeezing your throat breathless. You don't need to flay yourself before your jurors, a moment of truth before your god, your story guillotined before the riotous pleasure of a taunting crowd. No. You need the great splintering yawn of love. A touch that fractures you from the meagerness you keep believing you deserve. A kiss that springs you from your long-paid penitence. You need the blood-striped bulbs of the amarylis. The sugar from an orange sliced into eighths. You need that bead of sweetness on your tongue, a brief but poignant reminder you have not scraped your heart for nothing. There is a song stirring in the distance, like when the palms sway in Hawaii in a late afternoon rain that brings a twinkle of windchimes. It is coming for you, slow but impeccably sure. It is carrying new words, a language you haven't yet learned but which will - when it arrives - feel like it's lived inside of you forever. It has. The beginning has already begun. Your mouth has memorized those syllables. Your cheeks are blushing with that music. While you've been away, fighting your nameless, ageless war, your whole body has been tuning itself to sing.

-maya stein

painting by mark rothko

the intersection of tantra and performance art:

http://zengarage.com.au/2013/03/marina-abramovic-and-ulay/