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#but it lives on in my heart
voluptuarian · 11 months
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tag yourself: early modern revolutions
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hamletthedane · 3 months
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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
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wisebeth · 1 month
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One thing which genuinely bothers me is Annabeth's perception in the fandom. How she's seen as this cold, stoic, emotionless, reserved and intimidating girl. When in reality, she's a character full of love.
Annabeth, who immediately cried and felt attached to Cerberus after playing with him for a few minutes because she wouldn't get to play with him again.
Annabeth, whose deepest desire, which the Sirens lured her with, is saving Luke and having a good relationship with both her parents.
Annabeth, who believed in Luke's goodness, even after all the countless terrible things he did simply because she had faith in his humanity.
Annabeth, who cried in Percy's arms before entering the labyrinth and refused to reveal the last line of the prophecy because it said to lose a love worse than death and the idea of losing any of her friends is too painful, heartbreaking and worse than dying.
Annabeth, who kissed Percy before parting with him in St. Helens because if he's going to die, she at least wants him to die knowing she loved him.
Annabeth, who took a poisoned knife for Percy during the war because she'd rather die herself than let him die.
Annabeth, who convinced Luke to switch sides by reminding him of the promise of family he gave her. Which in turn, influenced Luke's decision to end himself to destroy Kronos. Hello, she saved the world with the power of love.
Annabeth, who spent months after months losing sleep and searching desperately for Percy when he went missing.
Annabeth, who kissed Percy to eternity in public at their reunion, not caring what anyone is going to say or think. An asteroid could've hit the earth, and she wouldn't have cared.
Annabeth, who told Percy “I love you” when falling in Tartarus because if she was going to die, she wanted them to be her last words.
Annabeth Chase is a sweetheart, who has always felt things deeply and she's so full of love. And I think it's time we let go of the “cold-hearted annabeth” headcanon because it's not true, that's not her.
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helyeahmangocheese · 4 months
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12 year old tlt percy jackson is so much stronger than me. if I found out my best friend was actually a 24 year old half-goat that was lying to me for years, only to be lied to again about my parentage by an actual greek god, only to find out that my teacher had been in on it too.... I would blow my fucking lid, camp half blood would never have seen such a tantrum
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trashmakerarticle · 6 months
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Everyone thinks that dick was the golden child when in reality it was Jason.
Clark: Bruce who was your favourite robin?
Dick: obviously it’s me?
Tim: it’s dick
Damian: I am superior robin, it will be me.
Bruce: it’s Jason
Everyone: WHAT?!?!???
Bruce: why are you so surprised? He didn’t jump on too my chandeliers which I had to replace each week
*everyone looks at dick*
Bruce: he didn’t drop out of school
*everyone looks at tim*
Bruce: I didn’t have to stop him from killing everyone who annoyed him
*everyone looks at Damian*
Bruce: in fact, he enjoyed school and handed all his homework in on time, we would spend hours in the library reading his favourite classics. He even helped Alfred with most of the cooking, He was my little boy
Jason: stop spreading lies, I hate you go away
Bruce: my precious little boy
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baltharino · 3 months
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Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
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spineless-lobster · 10 days
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Hey so if you guys here any pained animalistic sobs and/or wails don’t mind that it’s only me thinking about the house of hades family portraits
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saltoru · 8 months
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being a jujutsu sorcerer and a parent rarely ends well. sorcerers who have to fight for their lives everyday barely have any time and energy even for themselves. adding babies to the picture is hard to imagine.
but gojo was determined to balance his work and personal life when you entered his life, which is why he has a baby girl strapped to his chest as he holds up his hand and crosses his fingers, already to send a special grade curse into his domain.
"daddy~" his baby babbles, cheek squished against his purple uniform.
"yes, baby?" gojo smiles down at his baby and gently sweeps her hair out of her eyes. he pays little to no attention to the curse, who had already spread out their domain and is currently sending wave after wave of attacks, all of which gojo repels with a touch. "this is domain expansion," he gently explains to her, smirking at the curse who is obviously offended that he wasn't taking them seriously. "in a second, you're gonna see daddy's domain."
his baby blinks and shuffles around in the strap, whining a bit as she tries to get comfortable. for all she knows, it's too dark and hot and she misses mommy's smell.
before she knows it, the space around her begins to look like the night sky, and she can't see the curse anymore.
"this is my domain," her daddy says, but she misses seeing the sun. why is it nighttime all of the sudden?
"nooo" she whines as she kicks around. where's the ice cream he promised her earlier? and where is mommy? she doesn't want to go to sleep yet!
"not easily impressed, hm?" he laughs, protectively holding his baby's head against his chest as he closes up his domain after finishing off the curse.
"let's go get ice cream, yeah?" he ruffles her hair and holds up her hands, dancing them up in the air with a huge grin. the sunlight hits her face again and a smile quickly reappears. "you did so good today. did you learn a lot about jujutsu fights today? did'ja enjoy our little adventure together?"
"ice cweam" she smiles, doing a few happy kicks. and that's how the tradition of getting ice cream after missions started for the daddy-daughter pair.
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that-one-weird-cloud0 · 3 months
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Danny: *just chilling on the couch while being very still™️ at the Wayne Manor*
Clark: *comes to visit*
Clark: hey Bruce?
Bruce: yes?
Clark: why is there a dead child in your living room?
Bruce: what 0-0
Danny: oh shit
Danny: *starts up heartbeat* better?
Clark: *even more freaked out*
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An interesting demonstration of how the human brain works.
But also something of a lesson regarding perception, and the unreliability of subjective perspective versus objective reality.
You can be extremely certain about how you perceive the world, your "lived experience," that which you "feel it in my heart." But that doesn't mean it's actually true. And it doesn't mean we have to endorse it, or ignore or outright deny objective reality.
That's a "you" thing, not a "we" thing.
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swiftlymurmurs · 4 months
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I feel like the reception to the Fantasy High season 3 premiere is kind of divided between people who are extremely confused about these new characters and why everyone's pretending they've been here all along, and us Goncharov freaks who love being lied to for the sake of the bit.
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myuminji · 1 year
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Just a comic about Rem Saverem.
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Nai loved his mother, he truly did. If not, why would he grace her mercy to escape the ship with them? Why wouldn't he kill her himself, and instead left fate to decide upon her demise?
He loathed the Rem he sees in Luida, the Rem he sees in Meryl, the Rem he sees in Vash; he hates the 'Rem' that was crafted in his mind over the years, haunting him wherever he go. But would he hate the actual Rem had he seen her again?
Nai loved her just as much as he hates her, and he hates that he loved her, just as much as he hates the humanity both his loved ones had chosen over him.
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p4nishers · 7 months
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i cant get over the ball being so CLEARLY all for crowley i can't get over aziraphale trying to woo him with a WHOLE FUCKING BALL because that's what he knows that's what romance IS for him because he's been wanting to dance with crowley ever since dancing was invented and he's so stuck in time with the way he dresses and talks and he still thinks a dance is the high of romance AND HE MADE A WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING BALL FOR CROWLEY JUST SO HE COULD DANCE WITH HIM like now it's so fucking obvious he gave away his BOOKS without a second thought and it was all for crowley he organised a whole JANE AUSTEN THEME BALL just so he could have an excuse to finally dance with the love of his life and i can't get over this i'm shaking my fists and pacing up and down he did not give a single fuck about anything other than dancing with crowley and HE BARELY TOUCHED OTHER PEOPLE'S HANDS WHILE HIS WHOLE FUCKING PALM WAS PRESSED TO CROWLEY'S AND i need to lie down
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monoidea · 6 months
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slymanner · 7 months
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hurt my heart why dontcha.
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brainrotcharacters · 8 months
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the man trained by the shimotsuki since childhood, the mind behind the three sword style, the demon pirate hunter, vice captain of the Strawhat Pirates,
easily stopped with a hand on his shoulder by his captain (currently in a silly hungry vibe)
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