Corona Of The Egyptian Eclipse, 1882

(x)

A Robert Smith piece I made to be printed on a t-shirt. A birthday gift for a friend.

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

Art by Alex Twin

Anne Yvonne Gilbert

The way I see it, Art has two functions: escapism and confrontation. It serves as both a sanctuary and a mirror. Through escapism, Art creates landscapes where burdens dissolve, where the ordinary is transformed into the extraordinary. It reminds us of the boundless beauty that is preserved in the world and the immense potential that we harbor. It paints a picture of what could be.

But Art also confronts. It grips us by the shoulders, demanding that we open our eyes to the raw, unadorned reality of existence. It challenges the lies we tell ourselves and the illusions we construct, and forces us to reckon with the depths of our humanity. In confrontation, Art becomes the wound that refuses to heal until we take care of it. With its blood and pus, Art paints a picture of what is.

Though it might seem so, these functions are not opposites — they are intertwined; a good piece of art achieves not just a balance but a fusion, where escapism and confrontation become two edges of the same sword. This dual-edged nature is what gives Art its power. The escapist edge whispers of what the world should be; the confrontational edge reveals what the world truly is.

A sword with one dull edge is incomplete, blunt and purposeless, and, certainly, a useless weapon against any enemy, leaving its wielder defenseless and vulnerable in the face of danger. In the same way, Art that leans too heavily on either escapism or confrontation becomes unbalanced. Pure escapism is shallow and hollow; it risks becoming an empty distraction. Pure confrontation, on the other hand, risks alienating and overwhelming the audience without offering hope.

📸: Valerie Phillips

“Light and radiations.” Modern-Life Science. 1942. 

Internet Archive

"Absolutely no one comes to save us but us."

Ismatu Gwendolyn, "you've been traumatized into hating reading (and it makes you easier to oppress)", from Threadings, on Substack [ID'd]