Tumgik
#but every so often
phoenix · 1 month
Text
*gets notified there's a new comment on one of my Trisk reviews* Oh yay!
"So I was one of the actors in this movie..." Oh no!
8 notes · View notes
cantsaythetword · 3 months
Text
Fuck my back is SO DAMN TKLISH wtf
12 notes · View notes
Text
day 1 free of twitter: the birds are singing again
3 notes · View notes
samtalksaboutshows · 1 year
Text
The captions for this show on Amazon Prime are just...not great.
3 notes · View notes
yamujiburo · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
next
Jessie nervously takes up her offer and falls asleep instantly bc Delia's bed, and Delia, are very cozy
25K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 7 months
Text
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.''
10K notes · View notes
meowfountain · 8 months
Text
hyperfixations are so crazy because you never know whether this next thing you like is going to be a short-term interest or if it's going to change your entire life forever
11K notes · View notes
akanemnon · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
She didn't think that one through
FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT
MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)
5K notes · View notes
Text
does my house have fleas, or do the fleas have my house 
0 notes
uncanny-tranny · 8 months
Text
To any disabled person undergoing tests to find What's Wrong: I hope your results come back the way you hope and that you receive the help you need. I hope you are not denied care, I hope you are taken seriously even after this, and I hope that you will be taken care of compassionately
5K notes · View notes
tindingnasa · 11 months
Text
i want to FLUSTER that man. i want to make him BLUSH. i want to make him feel VULNERABLE AROUND ME. i want to make him WEAK IN THE KNEES. i want to kiss him
[pr*ship/c*mship and general bigots dni]
8K notes · View notes
phant0mc1d3 · 1 month
Text
It was lunch when Danny got the notification of a large scale attack spearheaded by Bane on his phone. He hadn't wanted to be overt about his vigilantism but based off what he was seeing this attack was getting out of hand fast. He'd be caught dead before ignoring something like this.
Luckily the halfa had forseen something like this happening and not long after having transferred to the school he'd found a perfect out of the way janitors closet to transform in for occasions like these. Now the only issue was making way through the hoards of students milling around the halls like ants by the cafeteria.
With haste pushes through people leaving a litany of complaints by individuals in offence at being shoved past. At one point a teacher had called for him to stop running and without thinking too much of it he loudly prattles off the first excuse that comes to mind: bathroom emergency. He'd look back on it with embarrassment but at the time it served it's purpose.
However after finally reaching the closet and slamming the door shut he'd been faced with a major problem. There was already someone in there. Someone with their blouse halfway off and staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. Danny stopped dead in his tracks, hand still on the handle of the door and they stood there in silence for a beat.
The other teen -Tim from English class, Danny's brain supplied- spoke, "It's just- uh- kind of warm out today, you know?"
Danny blinked.
It was October and most definitely one of the colder days of the year. His eye travelled downward to a backpack that stood wide open, which seemed to have some sort of black and red coloured clothing inside of it. He looked back up to Tim with an expression that he hoped portrayed his deep sense of 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.
He slowly backs out of the closet. Maybe he'll try his luck at the bushes outside.
1K notes · View notes
mispelled · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Cant believe they carried the entire show and nothing bad happened to them ever. and they were t4t
3K notes · View notes
cheeseanonioncrisps · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Emotional scene from Muppets Star Trek.
1K notes · View notes
sonicman66 · 2 months
Text
Teeny tiny dpxdc idea
Tim's newest classmate is fairly normal. Dani-with-an-I is well-traveled, she keeps contact with her pops with frequent phone calls, and she stays out of trouble.
His opinion of her changes radically when he witnesses her take out what is clearly a vial of lazarus water, dump it in her coffee like an espresso shot, and chug the whole thing.
At his horrified stare, she just shrugs. "Gotta take my meds."
1K notes · View notes
chaichai-draws · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sometimes a family is a put out Earth Kingdom Captain and his three teenaged bullies
Go Team Steam! I’m running out of chapters in @lovelyelbowleech ‘s fic War Crimes…
5K notes · View notes