untitled

Kiana Khansmith
đ

ellievsbear
The Bright Sessions
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
One Nice Bug Per Day

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
d e v o n

blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
macklin celebrini has autism

shark vs the universe
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines

@theartofmadeline
Phantogram Three
Color Me Curious
sheepfilms
Mike Driver

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@hurrythrough
Also featured in Vagabond.
"Look, why don't you just wear what you'd wear everyday?"
Das Triadische Ballett.
Lee Lozano.
Available for office hours.
A Myth of Devotion - Louise GlĂźck
When Hades decided he loved this girl he built for her a duplicate of earth, everything the same, down to the meadow, but with a bed added.
Everything the same, including sunlight, because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness
Gradually, he thought, heâd introduce the night, first as the shadows of fluttering leaves. Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars. Let Persephone get used to it slowly. In the end, he thought, sheâd find it comforting.
A replica of earth except there was love here. Doesnât everyone want love?
He waited many years, building a world, watching Persephone in the meadow. Persephone, a smeller, a taster. If you have one appetite, he thought, you have them all.
Doesnât everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that says I am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me. And when one turns, the other turnsâ
Thatâs what he felt, the lord of darkness, looking at the world he had constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind that thereâd be no more smelling here, certainly no more eating.
Guilt? Terror? The fear of love? These things he couldnât imagine; no lover ever imagines them.
He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden. In the end, he decides to name it Persephoneâs Girlhood.
A soft light rising above the level meadow, behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you
but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end youâre dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.
My friend Malcolm told me a story about pronghorns recently, the North American creatures sometimes confused with antelopes. They can run at speeds of nearly sixty miles an hour, much, much faster than any of their existing predators. Some biologists think theyâre still outrunning the dangerous species that went extinct at the end of the Pleistocene, specifically the cheetahs that existed on this continent. And then Malcolm asked what each of us is still outrunning and whether we can tell when our predator has been extinct for ten thousand years.
Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby (via lindsayzoladz)
Rebecca Curtis.
"Do you find that normal? Do you do that tweeting?"
- Rivka Galchen, "The Late Novels of Gene Hackman"