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#New So
edwinelijahd · 1 year
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youtube
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ikarakie · 5 months
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if a character means enough to me i will truly never stop thinking about them. i just retire them into a little back room in my brain and periodically bring them out to stare at them under a little light
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thedisablednaturalist · 5 months
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Im fucking sobbing looking at the new black footed cat at Utah's Hogle zoo
Shes just a fucking baby
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Baby with a 60% successful kill rate
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Expertise can't help you here.
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black-quadrant · 2 months
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this couldn’t be said any better
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icarus-suraki · 2 months
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So Fox News ran a story about how they think libraries are turning into drug-infested sex dens and I am shocked, shocked that I was never offered any drugs during my 15+ years working in libraries.
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captainsaltypear · 5 months
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IS ANYONE ELSE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS OR
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yanderemeganekko · 3 months
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auckie · 3 months
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https://x.com/MorePerfectUS/status/1765391777580912958?s=20
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PLEASE GD IF YOU LOVE AND WANT TRAINS
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hamletthedane · 4 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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obsob · 4 months
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i am a being capable of immeasurable love and whimsy
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theharlotofferelden · 9 months
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Genuinely loved the experience of being at camp for the first time and seeing all the companions with their tits out like they're all gonna go clubbin or some shit
Then there’s Gale
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Who's just. So utterly swagless that his clothes smell like dusty old books. My man doesn't give a fuck about the drip he's getting his ass ready for bed
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monstertidbits · 5 months
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ryoko kui is hands down the queen of character design
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mengjue · 5 months
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Ūropi (Europe)
Ūropi, also known by its indigenous name “Europe”, meaning “wide-gazing” or “broad of aspect”, is a small continent first discovered in 1806 by Moehanga of Ngāpuhi, although indigenous Europeans had been living there for many thousands of years. Modern researchers believe the indigenous Europeans originally migrated from the Middle East, and over time split into separate tribes or “kingdoms,” with many retaining their ancient rangatira (called “monarchs” or “nobility”) to this day.
While many see Ūropi as timeless and exotic, indigenous Europeans have actually adapted well to the modern economy, often exporting cultural products like baguettes and vodka, the former of which may be recognisable as the basis for bánh mì.
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mirror-mariposa · 3 months
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Never gonna get over how the anime made this scene just so,, haunting and elevated. Like I love the manga but I love how the anime has taken these scenes and elevated the themes of death and rebirth with simple shots like this and it’s why even after reading all of the manga I still get excited for the anime because I *know* the anime will not only be a faithful adaptation, but also an artistic masterpiece as it uses the medium to its advantage
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strawberricakeandpie · 5 months
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Laios faces greatest hits
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