The Limbo Connection's photos with the keyword: Oscar Wilde

16, TITE STREET, CHELSEA. S.W. My dear Sir Art is useless because its aim is simply to create a mood. It is not meant to instruct, or to influence action in any way. It is superbly sterile, and the note of its pleasure is sterility. If the contemplation of a work of art is followed by activity of any kind, the work is either of a very second-rate order, or the spectator has failed to realise the complete artistic impression. A work of art is useless as a flower is useless. A flower blossoms for its own joy. We gain a moment of joy by looking at it. That is all that is to be said about our relations to flowers. Of course man may sell the flower, and so make it useful to him, but this has nothing to do with the flower. It is not part of its essence. It is accidental. It is a misuse. All this is I fear very obscure. But the subject is a long one. Truly yours, Oscar Wilde

I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky, And at every drifting cloud that went With sails of silver by. Nikon D3s + Nikkor 180mm f/2.8 AF lens. The verse is from "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" by Oscar Wilde. Lockdown Blues. A Limbo Lockdown Production™.