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#i will shut up now!!
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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cyborgrhodey · 10 months
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THE BANANAS ARE GAY
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THESE BANANAS
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THE BANANAS IN PAJAMAS ARE GAY
BELATED HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE
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waltricia · 14 days
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I genuinely love this candle symbolism.
For her, it’s been burning. For him, it’s finally igniting.
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( And actually his candle is already low and a liiittttle bit lit, implying the love was always there, burning so low as to not be noticed, but surely burning nonetheless 🔥♥️ )
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ermwhatsup · 2 months
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the ides of march starting to trend on march 1st is like the tumblr equivalent of those people who start listening to christmas music on november 1st
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coyoxxtl · 6 months
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nightmare blunt rotation
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squishysnake · 1 year
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got inspired to make a TF2 Mercenary Professionalism Tier List the other week, and decided to properly chart it
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naturecalls111 · 5 months
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Gotta let your future kids know, cook! Gimme a sharpie!
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annabelle--cane · 1 year
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gripping people so hard by the shoulders. stop projecting your embarrassment and disgust for your own teenage self onto people who are currently teenagers. if you're so sure that adults are so much smarter and more competent than teens then how about you act like it and stop taking your feelings out on others. also stop hating your teenage self and practice respect and compassion for who you are and used to be, but the need to at the very least stop externalizing that feeling is kinda urgent.
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rosysugarr · 2 years
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no actually I'm gonna give this its own post.
get yourself a USB stick from any dollar store, install ubuntu with persistent storage on it. There is literally no reason not to, and it means that you now have a little computer of your very own that no one except those who physically get their hands on your USB stick can use (and you can password lock the OS) and that you can run from literally almost any PC with USB ports.
If you're a kid who needs privacy, someone in trouble who just needs their own machine to play and talk to people on, somebody who doesn't have the money to get your own computer, etc etc etc, do this. Actually do this even if you do have your own computer. There is literally no reason to not have a little backup system on a thumb drive that you can use anytime. If your main computer starts acting up or gets fucked over by an update or something? Just plug in your thumb drive and use your computer from your handy-dandy mini Ubuntu installation.
EDIT: I have seen many radfems reblogging this post. I just want yall to know that op here is a nonbinary they/he lesbian and that if you touched my post you now have gross trans cooties on your blog forever and that I hope they infect and kill you. <3
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wearecrowley · 6 months
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good omens crack 2 of ∞
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hamletthedane · 10 months
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Still laughing at Brian May offhandedly writing the greatest understatement in the history of academia in his astrophysics doctoral dissertation:
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Ah, yes - “various pressures.” Like being one of the greatest guitarists ever and playing/writing/singing for the most legendary rock band of all time.
Those various pressures.
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greelin · 7 months
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equipping these not for strategic reasons. but gay ones
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orpheuslament · 1 year
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(so horny i need to be crushed into fine powder & snorted) hello
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tired-biscuit · 4 months
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so we’ve established that yuuji mounts you, all right.
but i think the main thing that separates him from the rest is that instead of pushing your face into the pillow with the help of his hand on the back of your neck, he rather wraps it around your throat, fingers digging into your chin and cheek, and brings you closer to his chest so that he can kiss you and messily shove his tongue inside your mouth the second your head turns to the side.
you’d think that being mean and overpowering is what makes a person take control while pinning you down and keeping you in a submissive position like the one you’ve ended up in, but instead he does it with love and consideration as he pounds into you.
he looks you in the eyes and lets out a soft, almost breathless huff of a laugh when he feels you squeeze around him, and he keeps on mumbling these sugary little praises that are just a jumble of words that hardly make any sense together but that make your heart want to dance nevertheless. he keeps on kissing you as a means to keep you quiet instead of just cupping his palm over your mouth and telling you to shut the fuck up, and he caresses you instead of groping you even if the level of greed never changes during it.
he fucks you nasty, sure, but he never makes you feel filthy because of it. you both sweat and grind against each other and he uses his weight to press you down, but he also lets you move your hips all on your own every so often so that you can fuck yourself on his cock however you want, and he listens to you beg and whine for him to fill you up in the end not because he forces you to do it, but because you genuinely want it that bad.
he’s just effortlessly sweet like that.
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eeldritchblast · 3 months
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I truly wonder if white fans are even capable of understanding how hard it is just being in a fandom space when you're not white. How alienated you feel every other day. How often you're told "it's not that big a deal" or "it's just a fantasy game get over it" or "it doesn't matter" or "go save the rainforest instead of crying over a game" or etc. etc. etc. to the point where you yourself start to question if there's something wrong with you... that it's your fault for being hurt all the time. Because it's never just about one racist mod, or one piece of whitewashed art, or one offensive post... it's all of it. Together. All the time. It's so fucking exhausting and it's why POC quit fandom spaces a lot.
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acarillustrated · 5 months
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thinking about mizu from blue eye samurai. thinking. thinking so much. thinking about how mizu operates outside of gender. like we joke about her gender being revenge but straight up? it literally is. like she grew up as a boy and is most comfortable being a man, but behind that is the feeling of betraying himself because he isn't being honest about who he is and he lives in fear of being discovered. and when he lived as a woman, she found joy there as well. she fell in love, and though she wasn't good at it, she liked being a wife and enjoying a simple life. but in that life too, she isn't being honest about who she is. and when she reveals her true self, it's not a woman, she's a demon, a weapon. she's to masculine to be a woman, and too feminine to be a man. ultimately, mizu is most comfortable when they are being a murder machine. that's when they feel they are being the most true to themself. like a sword, they are neither man nor woman, but a blend of both, which makes them stronger.
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