"We are all candy covered on the outside, peel away the shell and we're frightened on the inside, we are all angry, angry on the outside, peel away the shell and we're rotten on the inside" -Jack Off Jill

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Alexander Tsiaras’ Anatomical Photography

You’ve seen his art before on tumblr, in google search gif sets (where I found some of these images) and facebook, but you likely don’t know the author of the art because people fail to give artists credit. Tsiaras’ work pops up on my dash constantly and has never been sourced as far as I’ve seen it. So here you go, tumblr. Meet the artist. Learn more in the links provided below.

"Alexander Tsiaras, Founder, Editor-in-Chief and CEO of TheVisualMD, has been called a "Digital Age Leonardo da Vinci". He is a technology innovator, whose roots are based in his art and science photojournalism background. Tsiaras has developed cutting edge scientific imaging software that enables him to scan and record the human body at every stage; from a single cell at the moment of conception, through the biological development of man and woman and he tells compelling stories of wellness and prevention with them. His images simply and compellingly explain health and illness in terms that anyone can understand. Most importantly, they give you a visual map to plan your own optimal Health!"

See also:

(Source: Alexander Tsiaras)

(via aztecpharaoh13gawd)

Filed under alexander tsiaras art anatomy science photography anatomical photography body

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three orphaned baby black rhinos — hope, kilifi and nicky — are being raised in kenya’s lewa wildlife conservancy by rangers who haven’t left their side since their mothers were killed by poachers. from a population that used to number in the hundreds of thousands only a century ago, less than 5,000 black rhinos now remain. photos by (click pic) luca ghidoni, suzi eszterhas and ami vitale. (similar posts)

(via radicalfeministwitch)

Filed under rhinos cute kenya love rhinos love animals

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Solutions for Wanting to Die


Eventually I will end up without enough candles

to keep lighting a séance for the person I used to be

to come back home.

All the melting wax dripping from my bedroom walls

could fill a birthday cake three times over.

In my dreams, my mother shells lobsters and hangs the detached claws

from the headboard of my sister’s bed like windchimes.

They crackle and clack beneath the light of the full moon, the same moon

my mother once taught me boys should only ever make love to a woman under

because the sun isn’t worthy enough

of touching the skin of two people in love.

That’s why my first time was on Halloween.

That’s why every time October 31st comes along, I dress up like the woman I was

before this heart became a shipwrecked ruin, before opening my legs

whenever a man said I love you became a reflex.

My sister says, Like mother, like daughter.

But no. Lie mother, lie daughter.

I was never in love and even the moon can’t erase

the pain of waking up alone in an empty bed with sore skin,

a boy’s name still lingering in your mouth like something burnt

and his voice ringing in your ear

like those lobster claws so many dreams ago.

(via writingsforwinter)

Filed under poetry love sucks love sex