wild goose @bzl07 - Tumblr Blog

idk how to ask this in a way thats normal but are you the person i hung out with on practically a daily basis during the summer of quarantine . i think you brought me peanut butter cookies . apologies if i have the wrong person

yeah! we used to walk to the park together :)

#i open this website truly like once a month and don't check notifications so forgive me for the delay!!#i remember your dog and giving you a really foul haircut once #send me another ask! i'd love to know how you're doing

unrar

Student doing homework on Walled City rooftop, 1989, Greg Girard.

dontrblgme2

Mein schönstes Knut Foto (via maapy)

inianmoon

oaks bottom

august 15th

2014

itsrainingpumpkins

A Lonely House in the Icelandic Wilderness Javier Ipas

ageae

Munching

simaalsaig95

Palestinian embroidery on wedding handkerchief. Front and back.

modelsof-color

Sheila Bawar by Fernando Tomaz for Elle Brasil Magazine June 2025

driflloon

l.a.m.b. ss06

anti-parent

this week i read a compendium of interviews with Toni Morrison and there was this one excerpt that's had me on the verge of tears for days. let me see if i can find it online

anti-parent

from Toni Morrison on Love and Writing, a 1990 interview with Bill Moyers on PBS TV [x]

MOYERS: As I listen to you talk about the liberation of motherhood and love, I find all the more incredible Sethe’s willingness to kill her son—

MORRISON:: Oh, yeah.

MOYERS: —Rather than let the slavecatcher kidnap him. Was that a far-out figment of your imagination to make a dramatic point, or did you find in your research into the past there were mothers willing to do that?

MORRISON:: That was Margaret Garner’s story. There was a slave woman in Cincinnati named Margaret Garner who escaped from Kentucky; arrived in Cincinnati with her mother-in-law. The situation was a little different; I think she came with four others. And right after she got there, the man who owned her found her. And she ran out into the shed and tried to kill all her children, just like that. And she was about to bang one’s head against the wall when they stopped her. Now, she became a cause celebre for the Abolitionists, because; you see, they were trying to improve the situation a little bit and get her tried for murder, because that would have been a big coup, if they had gotten her tried for murder. Because it would assume that she had some responsibility over those children. But they were not successful. She was tried for the real crime, which was stolen property, and convicted and returned to that same man. But what struck me, because I didn’t want to know a great deal about her story because there would be no space for me to invent — was that when they interviewed her, she was not a mad dog killer, she was this very calm, you know, in her 20s, woman. And all she said was, “They will not live like that. They will not live like that.” And her mother-in-law, who was a preacher, said, “I watched her do it, and I neither encouraged her nor discouraged her.” So for them, it was a dilemma. This is a real dilemma. “Shall I permit my children, who are my best thing, to live like I have lived, and I know that’s terrible, or to take them out?” So she decided to kill them, and kill herself. And that was noble. That was the identification. She was saying: “I’m a human being. These are my children. This script I am writing.”

MOYERS: Could you have put your — did you ever put yourself in her position, and ask—

MORRISON:: In the writing of the book, yeah.

MOYERS: —could I have done that to my three sons?

MORRISON:: I asked it a lot. As a matter of fact; the reason the character Beloved enters is because I couldn’t answer it. I felt just like Baby Suggs. I didn’t know whether I would do it or not. You hear stories of that in slavery and Holocaust situations, I mean, where women have got to figure it out fast, I mean really fast. So the only person I felt who had the right to ask her that question was the child she killed.

MOYERS: The child.

MORRISON:: And she can ask her: “What did you do that for? Who are you talking about? This is better? What do you know?” Because I just — it was, for me, an impossible decision. Someone gave me the line for it at one time, which I have found useful, is that it was the right thing to do, but she had no right to do it.

MOYERS: And you’ve never answered it in your own case, “Could I do it?”

MORRISON:: I’ve asked. I don’t know.

"the only person I felt who had the right to ask her that question was the child she killed" has been ringing in my head. there is no truer thing in the world.