girl_o_war;

[girlowar]

" , "

I hate that people are capable of so much, but the potential of all those capable things are so heavy and great that they knot and hinder and complicate - strangle until they / you are unable - and can’t enable anymore .. All those capable things and all that potential just sits, and waits, and writhes.

What a horrible waste it is to wait.

[girlowar]

[girlowar]

[girlowar]

Random sketches to start back into habitual random sketching.. it stinks to be out of practice.

(Also, Westworld?!)

[girlowar]

Nerd up!?

[girlowar]

When you haven't drawn in a very long time, and you really like fruit bats..

[girlowar]

“I used to spend a lot of time wondering about where I’d be. And when the more formative parts of becoming myself passed, I wondered on where I’d been.. Now, I suppose, I wonder on where I am. I haven’t yet found a reason to look in any other places or times for a wonder so inspired or deep.”

[girlowar]

[girlowar]

Any sort of doing can sometimes be hard. But small or big, all of you is art, and all of you deserves expressing.

[girlowar]

“Hey! You need to be careful! The forest is full of robbers, wild harpies and terrible grey dwarves.. you’ll need to watch out for them.”

“Yes, but how will I know who’s a robber or a wild harpy or a terrible grey dwarf?”

“..I guess, well.. I guess you’ll know when you see one.

Wait! Don’t get lost or go too far!”

“How will I know if I’m lost or I’ve gone too far?”

“ ..hm.. I guess you wouldn’t know until you have..

One last thing? Be careful not to fall in the river!”

“Of course, no falling in the river.. but - how will I know if I’ve fallen in or if I’m swimming?”

Ronja: the Robber’s Daughter

[girlowar]

when, if a deeper silence comes

to make her loudest louder -

of cards they’d drawn out from the deck,

the scepter and the tower -

she begs be given kinder tastes

to ebb the bitter sour,

then, distract the quiet from her mouth:

“we eat to be devoured.”

[girlowar]

[girlowar]

What it must feel like to be in this room..

Phew. ♡

[girlowar]

жизнь в остранение

[girlowar]

“You’re not the singular answer to chaos.”

[girlowar]

[girlowar]

“..The moment was simple too busy, too heavy.

And you looked straight into Suzie’s eyes, and your eyes locked, and you were truly together.. There never was such a moment in reality, after all. If you were supposed to believe in a moment though, this was the one. There was this one idea going out to all the people of all the planets - something like maybe you couldn’t stop people from being predators.. but you could get them to stop being prey. That from now on there would be this great big, peaceful future - after - that would either be or not be, depending on what people did with this one moment. Like an elephant on the head of a pin. Maybe things will change after this? And we can all stop living the same idiotic, greedy mistakes over and over - lifetime after lifetime and finally evolve into the kind of people who insist on living well..

- no.. no! Because even though these were worthy thoughts, they were NOT just being, existing in the moment, and just this one damn time..”

“But it can’t be helped..”

“..because it’s not just your head, is it? It’s the head and soul of all the voices of all your ten thousand lives and eight thousand years and all their pasts and futures — all the cavemen and racecar drivers and milkmaids with pale cheeks - all the spacemen, crickets, economists and witches. The voices are full of the things they will carry with them into whatever futures take shape.. Things like waffles and hard-work and things you hope no one finds out. Things you fear and things that defeat you, like spiders and children and forgetting to set the clock - gothic shadows like the “Hookman”, escaped and hunting in the woods. Things like barbarians and taxes and red and blue lights in the rearview mirror and the feeling that’s always there like a haunting, the most human thing of all - the feeling you forgot something. Forgot something?Forgot and left something undone. The voices in your head, thousands of years and lives, talk about perfections you have known - the time you were catapulted over the wall of Vienna, the time you left the first footprint on the Moon, the time you dove in and saved Stacy Crabtree’s little girl from drowning, the time you played a violin note that broke the stained glass window of Saint Patrick’s cathedral in Troy, Michigan. The voices talk about the masks you wear, like the wife-mask and the husband-mask, the mask where you pretend you know what you’re doing and the festival mask and the masks of the ennui and joy.. They talk about the thing behind the mask - the greatest and most mysterious thing of all — the source of all fears and hates and lives, the last thing we see and know before we die which ties it all up in a nice glowing bow of knowing, and silence - and peace.

Except that it hardly ever works that way, right?

And you look at Suzie, and she looks at you before the great big thing happens and the end comes - and you kind of fall together, laughing at each other for trying to be so serious.. Laughing for the same reason you do most things, which is a reason you still don’t know — and neither do wisemen, moo cows, or Death.”

Reincarnation Blues, M. Poore