bbygrrl

basically intersectional feminist & hippie trash

[distantvoices]

By Nadine Ijewere for Vogue US April 2023

[powerburial]

one of the best things to happen in the last few years is william shatner going to space and having a ninth configuration moment while a glassy-eyed jeff bezos pops champagne

[nenan]

Iya photographed by Elizabeth Wirija, styled by shanxwang and Elle Hioe

[smakkabagms]

“Within the trees I no longer see any trees. The branches are bare of leaves, carried off by wind. The fruits are sweet, but empty of love. What shall happen? Before my eyes the forest flees, the birds no longer sing to my ears, and for me no pasture will become a bed. I am full with time yet hunger for it. What shall happen? Nightly upon the mountains the fires will burn. Shall I head out, draw near to them all at once again? I can no longer see on any path a path.”

— Ingeborg Bachmann

[monster2003]

[cosmicanger]

utility combat purse by benjamingreco

[oritoor]

yetjr2

[oritoor]

Girl With WishFish

[milksockets]

rebecca horn, “the feathered prison fan” 1978

[aholymoment-deactivated20220110]

jeff buckley on grace :’)

[luthienne]

Marilynne Robinson, from Gilead

[Text ID: Our dream of life will end as dreams do end, abruptly and completely, when the sun rises, when the light comes. And we will think, All that fear and all that grief were about nothing. But that cannot be true. I can't believe we will forget our sorrows altogether. That would mean forgetting that we had lived, humanly speaking. Sorrow seems to me to be a great part of the substance of human life.]

[lizlemondyke]

I think this is my favorite poem.

[weltenwellen]

“James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78”, An Interview by Jordan Elgrably

[newloverofbeauty]

Ernst Haas:  Leaping Horse, Nevada  (1961)

[crucifiedlovers]

She had lost herself somewhere along the frontier between her inventions, her stories, her fantasies and her true self. The boundaries had become effaced, the tracks lost; she had walked into pure chaos, and not a chaos which carried her like the galloping of romantic riders in operas and legends, but which suddenly revealed the stage props: A papier-mache horse.

Anaïs Nin, A Spy in the House of Love (via paper-fairy)

[lamignonette]

https://www.instagram.com/valentina1121li/

[lookcaitlin]