#John Constable Tumblr posts

  • fuzzysparrow
    07.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    (via Late Constable)

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  • fuzzysparrow
    07.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    (via Late Constable)

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  • fuzzysparrow
    07.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    (via Late Constable)

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  • fuzzysparrow
    07.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    (via Late Constable)

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  • fuzzysparrow
    07.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Until 13th February 2022, The Royal Academy of Arts is looking back at the work of one of their graduates, John Constable. Rather than look at all of his paintings, the Academy has chosen examples from the final twelve years of Constable’s life, illustrating his more radical and expressive side. Between 1825 and his death, Constable experimented with plein air painting, dramatic weather phenomena, enthusiastic brush strokes, and the possibilities of printmaking. Despite his connection with the Academy, the RA has never staged a major retrospective of Constable’s work until now.

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  • lonewolfy45
    05.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    I don't know what to post so here's this

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  • whfbobbyselfship
    02.12.2021 - 4 days ago

    Tw: Sex

    Sally’s POV

    1957

    Sonny had always been the squeaky clean girl in high school. Never fought, decent grades, somewhat quiet until she warmed up to you. John Constable was a bit of a trouble maker track star. Everyone was certain John would taint Sonny in some way. He tried. Oh, lord, did he try.

    In 1957, the pair had been married for almost 2 years. I was surprised to learn Sonny was working in the Reform Club. I learned she’d tempt and tease other people. The only person she screwed was her husband. I was surprised that she’d let people watch.

    My eyes widened some when I enter one of the rooms looking for Bevans. He and another bobby are watching a couple. That couple just so happened to be John and Sonny. Sonny seems to be more than happy riding John’s cock. John is glossy eyed and over the moon. His hands slowly explore and grope Sonny’s body. There’s a few hoarse pleads from John to cum. Sonny sweetly coaxes him into “just a couple of more minutes.” She’s true to her word. A couple of minutes and several languid rolls of her hips later they cum within seconds of each other. They both curl up on the bed when their done. There’s a satisfied, somewhat tired grin from Sonny when we lock eyes.

    “Lovely day for it,” Sonny says softly.

    “Lovely day for it,” I respond quietly.

    Bevans, the other bobby, and I go out of the room. The other bobby goes to tend more private matters. So does Bevans. He returns a couple of minutes later. We discuss the business at hand.

    Mid November 1964

    I get word that Wellington Wells is being sorted out. I come back and bring Gwen with me. I’m careful though just to be certain that people will accept a baby here. Joyce is one of the first people that I run into. In the month to month and a half that I’ve been gone, she looks like like she’s gained five pounds or so. So do the others. They look healthier. She and John offer to let me and Gwen stay with them until I get settled in. My thoughts on them being wonderful with kids was right.

    John is making a few silly faces as he holds Gwen. She gives a delighted squeal of laughter. She eventually wears herself out laughing. Joyce then gently holds her as John fixes a makeshift bassinet for her in the spare room. Joyce gently rocks her and coos softly to her. I then feed Gwen and get her settled down to sleep when John is done fixing the bassinet.

    That night, after we’ve all settled down for the night, I can hear them making love. They’re just loud enough to barely be heard. I miss sex, being touched by someone. The men I’ve slept with seemed to have had very little to no love for me. With John and Sonny, it seems different. There’s a genuine love and adoration there. There’s an erotic quality to hearing them having genuine, loving sex.

    I pleasure myself as I close my eyes and listen to them. A whimper there, a moan here. I’m sure there are plenty of rough, hungry kisses between the two. I continue as I listen. My brows furrow as I get closer to climaxing. Eventually the house falls into silence.

    The following morning, when I wake up, there’s more quiet noise from John and Sonny’s room. Morning sex. I wonder if twice daily sex is normal for them or if they’re just feeling particularly frisky. I get up and check on Gwen and get her and myself ready for the day. John and Sonny join us a short time later.

    #we happy few #constable john constable #constable constable#self ship#self-ship#whf bobby #we happy writings #tw: ns/fw
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  • historiaarcana
    28.11.2021 - 1 week ago
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  • robbielewis
    25.11.2021 - 1 week ago

    John Constable (11 June 1776 - 31 March 1837)

    Image One:      Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Grounds c. 1825

    Image Two:       Salisbury Cathedral From the Meadows, 1831 (detail)

    Image three:      View of Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Grounds c.1822

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  • silent-poetry
    21.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    The Valley Farm

    John Constable

    1835

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  • fitzrovianews
    21.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    History notes: John Constable's house, 76 Charlotte Street

    History notes: John Constable's house, 76 Charlotte Street #Fitzrovia #London

    Number 76 Charlotte Street in 1964. A Blue plaque placed on the wall by the London County Council (LCC) reads: “John Constable 1776-1837 died here.” Photo: Grant Gibson / Fitzrovia News archive. The painter John Constable is better known for living in Well Walk in Hampstead but he actually spent the last ten years of his life in Charlotte Street, Fitzrovia in a building that sadly no longer…

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  • silent-poetry
    19.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    Arundel Mill and Castle

    John Constable

    1837

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  • uconstruction
    18.11.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    John Constable, Harnham Ridge, Salisbur, 1820 or 1829

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  • aiastelamonian
    06.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Seascape Study: Boat and Stormy Sky by John Constable, circa 1824-1828

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  • aiastelamonian
    05.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows by John Constable, 1831

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  • whfbobbyselfship
    03.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    November 1st, 1964

    I’m sitting across from Victoria Byng. She’s brought me in to help her get things under control. We’re going through supply lists. Lists of things that have been asked for and that’s already been delivered, things that have been asked for, agreed to be given or bought and have yet to come in, and items that have been asked for and declined.

    So far, the houses in the Garden District have been torn down. The piles of debris have been went through to find and retrieve parts that can be used. Houses are being rebuilt. Houses in the middle and upper class areas are left alone save for repairs and cleaning.

    Basic food staples have been sent in and have been distributed as evenly as possible. There’s two large food gardens that are being tilled and planted. Motilene lines have been patched up and fixed.

    By the end of the day, we’re both bleary eyed. She thanks me for the day. I smile and thank her for letting me help. I bundle up before I step outside. The wind whips around. There’s a bone numbing chill in the air. It’s almost 7 and already dark. The curfew has been done away with. Most people are inside now partly because of habit and, two, it’s too chilly to be out and about unless it’s a necessity. I make my way along the streets. There are a few people still out. There’s a bobby or two that I pass. We nod to each other.

    When I get in, I’m greeted by the warmth of a fire in the fireplace. John’s in the process of polishing up and putting away his work shoes. He’s already changed out of uniform. We grin upon seeing each other as I take my coat and scarf off.

    “Mrs. Constable Constable,” He says.

    Eight years of marriage and he still loves calling me that.

    “Mr. Constable Constable,” I grin. I take my shoes off and put them aside neatly. 

    “How was work?”

    “Same ol’, same ol’,” He admits. There’s a pause as I come over and we share a kiss. “Roger and James got the last Peeper taken apart. It’s been a bit weird not having the Peepers patrolling with us.”

    “I can imagine. Thankfully they can be used for spare parts to help fix up Wellington Wells,” I say.

    “That’s true,” He admits. “What all did you and Ms. Byng get into?”

    “Tons of paperwork on what’s come in and has been delivered, what’s coming in and going to be arriving, and what’s been denied,” I admit.

    We continue to chat as I go to the kitchen to prepare supper. There’s various jokes and smart remarks that John tells me about that’s been told or said between him and the other bobbies. They’ve managed to keep their spirits up during all of this. Laughter is the best medicine as Chief Peters would say.

    Some of the Wellies are struggling to keep their spirits high and to keep going. They miss being able to block out their bad memories. I can’t blame them but it’s also cathartic to learn from the past and learn from one’s mistakes.

    There’s idle chatter as he finishes with his shoes and I finish up with fixing supper. The conversation continues as we eat. As the day comes to an end, we change into our pj’s and get into bed. There’s a couple of soft, sleepy kisses before we drift off to sleep.

    #We Happy Few #We Happy Writing #whf bobby#whf bobbies #Constable John Constable #Constable constable#f/o#s/i
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  • quo-usque-tandem
    02.11.2021 - 1 mont ago

    The White Horse by John Constable

    #art#painting #The White Horse #John Constable #The Frick Museum
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