Nepenthe

From The Word Made Flesh - O Verbo se fez Carne Excerpt from Caliban’s soliloquy in “The Tempest” "Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.”

The Word Made Flesh does it again Une Orange sur la table Ta robe sur le Tapis Et toi dans mon lit Doux présent du présent Fraîcheur de la nuit Chaleur de ma vie - Jacques Prévert

- Jane Eyre (The Word Made Flesh)

I received  The Word Made Flesh  as a birthday gift this year, and have been enjoying it greatly. So, I thought I’d send in a picture of mine. I got this tattoo early in 2011, a couple weeks before I turned 40.  It’s my first and (currently) only tattoo.  I’ve spent most of my life working on Shakespeare, performing, directing, studying.  This tattoo is inspired by the First Folio, the first collected edition of Shakespeare’s works, published in 1623.  The text is from “The Tempest”, act 3, scene 2, from one of my favorite speeches in all of literature.  I left the spelling as it is in the Folio, and the typeface is inspired by the Folio font.  The rabbits are from the header engraving of the First Folio text of The Tempest, first page. —Chris

E o Verbo se fez Carne...

Fuckyesmaps on Tumblr ;)

From The Guardian The modern twin-coil electromagnetic tattoo needle was patented in 1891 by one Samuel O'Riley (sometimes known as O'Reilly), an Irish-American tattooist working out of a barber's shop on Chatham Square in New York. It worked – and, for that matter, still works – essentially like a doorbell, with two coils of wire wrapped around an iron core, two points, and a bar across the top that plunges down when power is applied to the coils, breaking the circuit, then springs back up again to recommence the cycle. Imagine a sewing machine, without the thread. What this means now for Will Wright, a 30-year-old landscape gardener flat on his back on a reclining chair in a handsome brick building on High Wycombe high street, is that three fine steel needles are puncturing his skin roughly 150 times a second. That's just for the initial scratch outline of the red kite Wright is having across his stomach. Later, it'll be a pack of nine needles,...

In Carl Zimmer's The Loom

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. “…I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or sha...

Some of my personal favourites ;)