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art blog(derogatory)
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@theartofmadeline
Noah Kahan
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Color Me Curious
Discoholic 🪩
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@gloriousexpertjudgehuman
Do you choose to love? Or is love something that comes to you unconsciously like how your feet is suddenly frozen at the bottom of the ocean, unable to swim back up and save yourself?
you can’t choose love. love chooses you. love burns in your lungs. love creates a soul in your soul. love is so boundless you can’t look the other way. i can’t look the other way.
Interior Portrait
You don't survive in me
because of memories;
nor are you mine because
of a lovely longing's strength.
What does make you present
is the ardent detour
that a slow tenderness
traces in my blood.
I do not need
to see you appear;
being born sufficed for me
to lose you a little less.
Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by A. Poulin)
I thought I had been surviving, and yet, what I was really doing was hanging by a string, loosely holding myself from collapsing. I was always on the verge, and I could feel that friction in my soul.
Fariha Róisín, from Who Is Wellness For?: An Examination of Wellness Culture and Who It Leaves Behind
I was a sick child in so many ways, always bent with allergies, forever frozen, bloated, out of my body. Because there was no refuge anywhere, I believed that I had to adapt to my shitty life, so every year I tried to accept it, accept the turmoil, the suicidal ideation my mother’s presence left me in. The way her groping fingers left my body forever in a state of distress. I didn’t know peace or reprieve. I only felt an anger I couldn’t express, and the more I wanted to, the more I grew fearful of doing so, inevitably shutting down.
Fariha Róisín, from Who Is Wellness For?: An Examination of Wellness Culture and Who It Leaves Behind
Rosamund by Walter Crane for Jeffrey & Co, 1908. Block-printed wallpaper.
Me convincing myself to use the powerful but limited consumables in RPGs
Never ever ever ration fancy cheese or delicious fruit because it was "expensive". It will go bad before you even eat half of it and you will have denied yourself pleasure at your own expense!!
Also goes for lots of craft supplies. Glues, resins, cute stickers, washi tapes, caulk, basically anything with an adhesive or anything that changes properties when exposed to something else (air, light, chemical catalyst). You gotta use them! Enjoy them! Even if you don't have the "perfect" project to use your supply to its greatest potential, don't hold yourself back.
Creating art isn't something that can ever be perfected so that "perfect" project may never materialize. But what you can make right now will give you experience to elevate your skills and make you more satisfied with your future work. So don't be reserved!!
a soft brush of lips on your cheek, the warmest hug you could imagine. a hand in yours, someone sleeping next to you.
a friend leaning onto you as you're sitting on the carpet. their arm around your shoulders.
being human, for the sake of loving. loving, for the sake of being human.
Going There by Jack Gilbert
In the deepening spring of May, I had no choice but to recognize the trembling of my heart.
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood [originally published 1987]
“This is the time of night when I feel like lying down into the deep dark earth.”
— Helaena C Moon
these bedrooms & these thoughts, repulsed by repugnant depth,
I am sick, I am sick, I am so fucking sick, I need some medicine:
I need some peace, some sense of solace, some time away;
one which I cannot corrupt with my vast blackened mind.
I am hurt, I am hurt, I am hurting, within these wax statements,
I am endlessly tortured, frail veil woven to dissolve the hollow:
fragmented psyche of an inner amnesia, my visions are dark,
decaying my mind in the strange decalcified inner motion,
the blood which runs through my veins is light refraction;
& as seasons come to pass I find myself in the marrow,
an adolescent child still too young to understand why.
Cristina Peri Rossi, tr. by Diana P. Decker, from These Are Not Sweet Girls: Poetry by Latin American Women; from “Evohé”
[Text ID: "tired of the flesh, / its tremblings and yearnings, / like a hermit, / I took refuge in words."]
one of the most important things i’ve learned in therapy is that when you’ve experienced prolonged trauma in your childhood, pleasure feels uncomfortable. like, not that you don’t feel it, but that when you do feel it there’s an impulse to make it stop, because it’s extremely unfamiliar. and pleasure can mean many things, as simple as feeling cozy, and as complex as feeling loved. the neural pathways for feeling good have not had a chance to develop, and the neural pathways for feeling bad are quite practiced. feeling good, too, takes conscious practice.
Else Lasker-Schüler, tr. Eavan Boland, from After Every War: Twentieth-Century Women Poets; "In the Evening"
Madeleine L'Engle, from The Weather of the Heart: Selected Poems; "The Mermaid"
[Text ID: "My father gives me everything. / That's just sea water in my eyes."]
