i offer children? o o
noise dept.
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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hello vonnie

oozey mess
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

izzy's playlists!
Misplaced Lens Cap
NASA
One Nice Bug Per Day

blake kathryn
🪼

Discoholic 🪩
AnasAbdin

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
$LAYYYTER
taylor price

pixel skylines
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@clio-tow
i offer children? o o
/sprawls over you all
Stealing an artist’s sketchbook guarantees death
I never stop loving u
/sprawls over
i am here all night. and I have tomorrow OFF FINALLY.
also i am here. love me
Thalia, oh my darling goddess, I feel your smile lingering with the props backstage, A giddy giggle and the remnants of plays gone past. Your voice echoes through the halls of empty auditoriums, The laughter and joy you give rolls ever on. Your blessing drifts among amateurs and oldpros alike, A fierce passion to act and to perform till they can speak and move no more. Muse of the spotlight and grinning ghosts, I sing of your colourful name!
@temples-wreathed-in-laurel
“Hymn to Thalia”
(via temples-wreathed-in-laurel)
In another time and another place, they would call me a queen.
Jessica Parker Kennedy ( x )
Modern Worshippers: Polyhymnia
Journals, notebooks, scraps of paper. All inked with prayers, hymns and stories to the Theoi. They sometimes sit for hours just watching the world and making lists in their head of flowery, glittering words and phrases to be used in some hymn later on. Candles cast a soft glow on their alter both for the Hearth and the Muse. Feathers, flowers and pictures of ethereal things line their desks, bookshelves and alters. Sometimes there’s dark circles under their eyes form a late night writing praise. They have a pen or pencil along with a scrap of paper on them at all times; you never know when She will give inspiration. Some veil in modesty regardless of male or female though the men do tend to get stared at even more then the woman for such “unusual” behavior.
Each hymn they write turns into a new jewel in Her veil, the train ever-dragged and scattering inspiration to Her followers in return.
Modern Worshippers: Erato
Pink sugar, soft morning dove coos and sheets warmed by body heat. All manner of sweet, saccharin words flow from their lips and pages. They look at a person and see a grand epic of love won and lost. They show their love through tender, innocent prose or lusty, heated descriptions sent to potential lovers. Rose gold jewelry adorns their bodies, the soft metal rose accompanied by tender rose petals in shades of red, pink and white. They know the language of the flowers and their colors, tucking them into lockers at random and dropping notes sprayed with perfume or cologne on work desks.
They pour all their love into their words - from innocent to sexual - and She paints the text rose gold and rose-sweet.
Modern Worshippers: Terpsikhore
Dance is the language of the soul. With leaps and bounds they jump higher, higher, to Her. There are so many ways to dace; ballet, tap, hip hop, breakdance and even traditional dances from a myriad of cultures. Hair flies, bells chime and laughter can be heard. they love having dance offs with each other, giving constructive criticism to help one another become better at their craft. Some learn how to play the lyre and sing along to the dance. Bruises and blisters, callouses and sometimes even sprained joints follow them everywhere and they push, dedicating hours of practice to dance.
Because it’s only when they dance that they feel Her dancing right by their side.
Modern Worshippers: Euterpe
They belt out as the radio plays, voices filling up the car, the highways, the Broadway stage and opera houses. Covering all the ranges, with tones husky, soft and breathy they make acapella covers of any and all songs in all languages. They swap around new songs they’ve discovered, revel in the oldies but goodies and push the limits of the human voice. Sheets of lines paper are used as the poor man’s music paper as they compose different songs to try. Some know the flute as well as other instruments like piano, guitar and even the ocarina.
They raise their voices up to the sky for Her to hear.
Modern Worshippers: Melete
Every morning they start with a cup of coffee or tea and a pencil in their hand. Or maybe they greet the sun with meditation and deep breathing. As the day goes on they finish their work, school and other obligations before throwing themselves into their discipline; playing their instruments until fingers bleed, writing stories, poems or hymns until their vision crosses. “Practice makes perfect” after all. They watch the water shift and turn just like the subconscious, minds unsturring and silent in steady thought.
You can see it in their eyes, how deep they look as if you would drown; they have the blessings of a Titaness Muse.
Modern Worshippers: Melpomene
Bitterness is sweet on their tongue. Give them a heart-wrenching tragedy any day and they’ll be satisfied. They both experience and watch heartache and tragedy unfold ranging from grand to inconsequential. Sometimes it’s missing the bus or being overlooked for a promotion. Sometimes it’s two lovers separated by circumstance, status or taboo. Regardless, they know tragedy is a part of life and it’s better to embrace it whole then try to bottle it up lest it explode.
There are eyes watching through a tear-streaked mask, gently helping them through the pain.
Modern Worshippers: Aoide
Lovely voices from high soprano to deep baritones. Glaring spotlights on a stage, focused on them. Whether singing or speaking their voices are powerful. The volume doesn’t matter; there’s something in the way they sing and speak that stirs something old in their blood. They make people stop and listen to them, just to hear the tone of their voice. They take and teach voice lessons, public speaking classes. Some perform opera on the grand stages of Italy while others hum out rhythm and blues.
In the crib they were fed holy honey by Her to make their voices so powerful.