Thursday, May 28, 2009

Hans Bellmer (Erotic Drawings)














Although Bellmer is well-known for his ball-jointed doll sculptures, I much prefer/swoon over his erotic drawings.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

DEATH CHURCHES






The Sedlec Ossuary (Church of Bones) is a small Roman Catholic chapel located beneath the Cemetery Church of All Saints in Sedlec, a suburb of Kutná Hora in the Czech Republic. The ossuary contains approximately 40,000-70,000 human skeletons which have been artistically arranged to form decorations and furnishings for the chapel. In 1278, King Otakar II of Bohemia sent the abbot of the Sedlec Cistercian Monastery to the Holy Land and when he came back, he brought a jar of soil from the Golgotha and sprinkled it over the abbey cemetery. The word of this spread and soon the cemetery in Sedlec became a desirable burial site throughout Central Europe. During the Black Death in the mid 14th century and after the Hussite Wars in the early 15th century, many thousands of people were buried there and the cemetery had to be greatly expanded. Around 1400 a Gothic church was built in the center of the cemetery and its basement was used as an ossuary. The bones stayed there for centuries until 1870 when a woodcarver named František Rint was appointed to place the bones heaps in order.






The Otranto Cathedral is located in the quaint sea-side town of Otranto, Italy. Adorning the walls behind the altar contain the 800 skulls from the severed heads of a band of Puglian Catholics martyred by Ottoman soldiery for refusing to convert to Islam circa 1480.






Sisterhood of the Skulls (Fontanelle Cemetery)


If you liked this, then make sure to check out the Parisian Catacombs and the Roman Capuchins.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

ANNE SEXTON


Bayonet
What can I do with this bayonet?
Make a rose bush of it?
Poke it into the moon?
Shave my legs with its silver?
Spear a goldfish?

No. No.
It was made
in my dream
for you.
My eyes were closed.
I was curled fetally
and yet I held a bayonet
that was for the earth of your stomach.
The belly button singing its puzzle.
The intestines winding like alpine roads.
It was made to enter you
as you have entered me
and to cut the daylight into you
and let out your buried heartland,
to let out the spoon you have fed me with,
to let out the bird that said fuck you,
to carve him onto a sculpture until he is white
and I could put him on a shelf,
an object unthinking as a stone,
but with all the vibrations
of a crucifix.