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JBB: An Artblog!
todays bird
RMH

shark vs the universe
Cosmic Funnies

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sheepfilms
Stranger Things
styofa doing anything

Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily

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izzy's playlists!
Sweet Seals For You, Always
dirt enthusiast
Not today Justin

blake kathryn

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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seen from Tunisia

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@homo-bulla
“Joanna Macy writes that until we can grieve for our planet we cannot love it—grieving is a sign of spiritual health. But it is not enough to weep for our lost landscapes; we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again. Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.”
— Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass
D E A T H C L O C K # 5
Ramona Ausubel, How To Be a Writer: The Map Is the Territory
“…but I am seized with desire to be something more. Something whose echo can drown out the rattle of death.”
— Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins
*comes across a slight inconvenience* me: you know what would solve this ????? death
“Nonviolence is not some exalted regimen that can be practiced only by a monk or a master; it also pertains to the way one interacts with a child, vacuums a carpet, or waits in line.”
— Kenneth Kraft, “Meditation in Action”
Dead Children’s Playground
Located in Huntsville Alabama, this haunted playground is situated behind Maple Hill Cemetery (the state’s largest and oldest cemetery).It is set in a low spot and surrounded by rocks and trees on three sides, making it all the more claustrophobic.
The playground has accumulated a deep catalogue of supernatural associations. Locals have claimed to hear children laughing/screaming in the middle of the night. They have seen swings move on their own and ghostly orbs floating around at night.
Legend says that during the 1960s, the area around Huntsville was gripped by a terrible rash of child abductions that devastated the city. Unfortunately, many of the children didn’t survive the clutches of their captors, and their bodies were discovered around the area where the macabre playground now sits.
sitting on the bus on a foggy morning and only thinking — is this, finally, my life? do i hold it with both hands? do i try to live?
Death by Toys
“Everyone thinks death is about endings, but it had always been her guide and teacher,”
— Nikita Gill, from “Great Goddesses: Life Lessons from Myths & Monsters,”
This much I’m sure. It is hard to believe in another morning’s gift now that the evening lawn has learned to grieve. Tonight moonlight keeps sending its condolences, as if forgotten whites on the line at the far end of the yard can no longer bear a body’s absence, and that faint slant of lost light from a kitchen window is not enough to bring anyone back.
Greg Sellers, from “Elegy to Those Not Yet Departed,” Clackamas Literary Review (Spring/Summer 2000)