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#my dads so true
inkskinned · 8 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:
There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’
like wow babe. good fucking point
#like you were on the ground biting the carpet and dry sobbing while you wrote that and still. good fucking point#not a shitpost#cptsd#and it's true. there's never a satisfying answer#the truth is i know why i wasn't loved#i analyzed my parent's traumas and abuse to death. i understand why i alienated and was alienated from my siblings#i know why my mom was too overwhelmed to be capable of nurturing#i know why my dad vanished into addiction and avoidance#the details of our cycles of trauma and cptsd and family history i have a phd in all of it#i understood perfectly. i spent years studying and now i knew the answer#and guess what? IT WAS NOT SATISFYING!!!#because they still didn't love me! and i still couldn't change that!#it was still a completely unsatisfying state of affairs!#so like. when the people who are supposed to love you...don't.#when the people who are supposed to take care of you...fail to#you can look for answers and reasons and explanations#but that's not actually going to FIX your situation.#and it's probably not within your ability TO fix the situation. (and definitely not your job)#because you don't need answers--you need a new situation#*inserts Just Walk Out. You Can Leave!!! (Running Skeleton) Meme*#and yes. walking out isn't always possible.#but for you i hope it will be one day soon. and i hope you build the courage to take that leap.#stepping away from the people who failed to love you...it feels like being untethered but also like being lighter than air#new and scary. immensely relieving. the future opens up. empty but empty like a canvas. blindingly bright until your eyes adjust#like climbing out of a pit you called home and for the first time realizing how bright the light of day can truly be#when you aren't just getting glimpses from the bottom of a hole
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anarcho-skamunist · 2 months
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"girl dad" has got to be one of the disappointing terms. What do you mean it's just some guy with daughters? I assumed we were talking about like. Butch milfs or something.
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wolfythewitch · 2 months
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I know I said jon would grow his hair out again but I'm ngl I'm getting very attached to short hair jon
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doctorsiren · 8 months
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I saw an interesting post a while back that said “Capcom made us [Miles and Diego/Godot] only have like two(?) interactions because they knew we would be unstoppable with a brother dynamic” and tbh it stuck with me bc it was intriguing.
So yeah that potential brotherhood, but that Godot/Diego AU I made (that I still need a name for)
Also I bet Gregory Edgeworth would have smelled like a bit like coffee, and so Diego just reminds Miles of that comforting presence 😭 (the von Karma estate was a tea household, so he didn’t smell much coffee after DL-6 and didn’t realize how much he missed it/reminded him of his father)
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royaltea000 · 1 month
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they should scissor
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possamble · 1 month
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In one of the extra comics Marcille mentions that elves don't have body hair, her included. So Falin staring at a naked pussy is Canon
I mean, I hear what you're saying but...
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To be 100% honest, this feels really ambiguous. She's a little too worked up in that second panel. Like, a lot of people have interpreted it as her being defensive and self-conscious about the fact that she shaves and waxes religiously (especially in the context of a trans headcanon) and that feels more right to me?
My personal interpretation is that she really doesn't grow little facial hairs (partially bc we've seen Senshi's huge beard turn into a tiny little elf stache so there is some real evidence for that). But then she doesn't actually know if she has peach fuzz or not and gets REALLY flustered about being scrutinized before she can check for herself and shave off anything she doesn't like.
But either way, my point is that I don't think we're meant to take Marcille's words here at 100% face value and consider it evidence for elf physiology.
And listen. I think Marcille should have a bald pussy in the bath scene bc rule of funny. But beyond that, I want to believe elves can grow pubic hair. I want to believe in the postcanon blondie bush. She's exponentially cuter with it, and I don't want Falin to have to eat bald pussy for the rest of her life. I'm only half joking when I say I want it as a part of her character growth. At the end of the story, Marcille Donato accepts that she is a living, breathing animal that eats and will be eaten and sweats and shits and grows hair all over her body. She learns to accept mortality, starts to reconcile with the inherent grotesqueness of being alive, and most importantly, lets her bush grow out for the first time in her life. And it's beautiful.
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autisticandroids · 9 months
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FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.
[youtube with closed captions]
dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.
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(via @closetoyou1970)
#spn#vid#mind the warnings on this one for real#woe! fruit of my rewatch be upon ye.#pallas calls this my 'deangirl coming out vid' which honestly. true. but those who paid attention know i've always been a deangirl.#also. after this no more deanwinchester rilo kiley amvs I Pwomise#anyway. i'm not gonna give a full commentary here but a big reason why i chose this song is that the narrator#is essentially dismissing her own problems and instead watching the problems of someone else#and i kind of wanted to play with that theme. this is the parallels show so let's do some parallels. lots of things happen to characters#that are Like Dean somehow. either in personality or circumstance. that we know or can infer happen to him. but we don't see it bc it's#not sayable. not speakable. so like for an easy one. we see meg being tortured in caged heat. she also talks about apprenticing under#alastair just like dean. so i show her being tortured [in a way that is sexualized and demon-specific] and reacting how she does#because i invite the audience to imagine or interpret that this has also happened to dean at some point. we just don't see it#so there are many dean parallels in this video. some obvious. some subtle but textual. some products of my twisted mind. but that's the way#i am using them to make my argument.#oh also: dean voice sam's eyes going black is JUST like when he used to fight with dad and wouldn't listen to me when i told him not to.#i guess also the point is that because it's unsayable. dean can't say it. dean can't even acknowledge it. and so it bleeds through#into everything in his life#that's why it's important that the song narrator doesn't take her own problems seriously. dean doesn't either.
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moeblob · 30 days
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kitty kitty kitty
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mmmairon · 1 year
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Diluc’s pride and joy
Aprilluc day 4 [Horse]
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hor3nee · 4 months
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The feminine urge to draw Dad!Sukuna👹
Obv this was just inspired by my other fic because HELLO?? SUKUNA AND HIS BEBE BRAINROTTTT
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tathrin · 6 months
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The Extremely Serious and Scientific Legolas Fandom Hair Colour Poll:
What colour hair do you picture in your head for your personal mental image of Legolas of the Woodland Realm? (Not necessarily which one you think is more or less "canonical"; rather just what you see in your head when you're reading something.)
Ideally, you can also share when and how you were first exposed to Lord of the Rings in the tags or reblogs, and what you think most influenced your mental image.
No I'm not procrastinating from writing stuff, go away.
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incorrect-hs-quotes · 1 month
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GAMZEE: MaN wHaT eVeN iS a "CrAbBy" MoThErFuCkEr? Is It LiKe ClIcK cLiCk AnD sHiT? bEcAuSe ThOsE bItChEs ArE aLwAyS jUsT uP aNd DoInG tHe FuCk OuT oF tHaT. cRaBs MaN. tHeY'rE jUsT tHe BiTcHeS.
KARKAT: IT MEANS PISSED GOD DAMN YOU, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS?
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heybiji · 1 month
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double life
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tj-crochets · 22 days
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So the good news is whatever safety measures are part of my computer charger worked! The bad news is it is no longer a functional charger. It’s a little too melted to work
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manitapaleta · 1 year
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listen,….. we don’t know y hermie didn’t grow up with his dads but i already know its going to DEVASTATE ME when anthony tells us bc i know they would have loved the little joker, our sweet little thespian (also big brother nick hellooooooo)
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