thinking about the quote “life is short. art is long” and how tragic it is that art lasts forever, but we don’t; how there will always be more books unread than read, more music unheard than heard, more paintings unseen than seen, and when i die, there will be countless more that i will never even have the opportunity to love and cry over and feel, because it certainly seems that there is more worth feeling in the world than time to feel it.
Ivve just watched the Gilmore Girls episode where they use in omnia paratus a lot😂
lmaoo hey!! welcome to the club of rich white children with way too much time on their hands (lol i could never; i’m Asian & broke). but yeah, that phrase really stuck with me & now it’s like a mantra. have fun with the Logan era!!
26 OCT 2020 🌔
i tell a lot of my friends, loved ones, clients to always be kind to themselves, to take care of themselves, but it’s one piece of advice i have a hard time practicing myself. how do you even start? how exactly do you pause in a world that makes you feel guilty for wanting to catch a breath? how do you take a moment to figure out what you like or what makes you happy when you’ve always been taught to focus on and fulfill others’ needs and not yours?
i’ve been doing my best to unlearn all of these, but it’s still hard sometimes. and i hope y’all know that when i do tell you to be kind to yourself and take care of yourself, there’s no judgment here. we’re all stumbling around our sense of self worth and sacrifice, especially during these trying times. it’s just a reminder that even though it’s easier said than done, you should try because you deserve just as much love and care as you give everyone else.
Hi all, it’s werelivingarts. I just stumbled across this method called ‘eat the frog’, which means you get the most difficult or important task out of your way first. I actually have been using this method for a long time, hope this post gives you a new way of managing your time and productivity! 😜 ❤️
“If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first.” – Mark Twain
Just a few of the stories my great aunt told me about women in the 60s:
1) A woman she worked with at the hospital who had a baby with one of the ambulance drivers. When work found out they fired her (he kept his job). She tried to self-abort with a knitting needle.
2) The sister of one of her neighbours who wasn’t able to rent a room because she was a ‘fallen woman’.
3) A girl who got sent to a convent house and scrubbed floors until the day she gave birth. Her baby was given up for adoption without her consent.
4) Girls who had babies with priests.
5) Women who were on their fifth, sixth, seventh child, who had been pregnant for the best part of a decade, begging for sterilisation because their husbands wouldn’t wear a condom.
Banning abortion has never ever stopped it from happening. It’s just meant more stigma, more prejudice, more risks and more deaths.
In 1962, my mother was going thru a divorce, got pregnant and knew this fact would be used to deny her divorce (they used to do that, in case you didn’t know).
My mother was given a “shot”; she lived 3 blocks from the doctor. He never told her what it was, likely an “overdose” of progesterone, which is how they used to “induce menstruation” in a hurry (i.e. abortion off the books). She was about 7-8 weeks by her estimation. He said, GO STRAIGHT HOME, go to bed and stay there. She walked fast, but nearly collapsed at the curb and my grandmother went out to guide her into the house. She went to bed, stayed there and bled steadily and heavily for 3-4 days. She said it was like being very very sick, headaches, nausea, vomiting… and then, gone.
She never let me forget this and took me to my first NARAL meeting when I was 15 yrs old. And here I am today, in my 50s–and I still remember my grandmother’s scary account; my mother swaying, literally, at the curb, and nearly falling, under the strength of that one shot.
How did she get the doctor to do it? She told him, “If you don’t, I will do it myself”–and if you knew my mother, you knew she meant it. She would have. After all, lots of women she knew had.
This is what they want to take us all back to, the fucking middle ages. Please remember.
The cost of denying women abortions is women’s lives. Nothing “Pro life” about it.