[windows95tips]

[stars-and-soda]

At a certain point, we all have to take responsibility for our beliefs. There seems to be a weird belief in some moderates that the system may be bigoted, but individuals can't be held accountable. There's racism, but nobody's racist. There's misogyny, but nobody's misogynistic. There's homophobia and transphobia, but no one's homophobic or transphobic. There's imperialism and murder in the US military but we can't judge the willing participants in colonization and murder and rape and torture.

[stars-and-soda]

Maybe you aren't anti-system if the suggestion of leaving it makes you defensive. A system can't exist without people. And the uncomfortable truth is you are impacted by it and do have subconscious bias. If you live and were raised in a racist society, as an example, then you do have those biases without knowing. You have to realize that a) You are capable of racism, b) You almost certainly have been racist already and c) You are responsible for that even if it was implanted by others. You, and me and everyone, have to take active steps to rethink and examine how we see and treat people.

[kaalbela]

Tatreez (Arabic: تطريز) is a type of traditional Palestinian embroidery. Tatreez uses traditional cross-stitch embroidery and is practiced largely among women. The craft was originally practiced in rural areas of Palestine, but is now common across the Palestinian diaspora. Historically, each village in Palestine had their own tatreez patterns. The landscape was a major source of inspiration for the patterns and motifs, which speaks to the variation in style that was common to see among all of the different tatreez expressions that were particular to each Palestinian village.

After the violent displacement and dispossession of Palestinians in 1948, people were living together in refugee camps. The different styles of tatreez became less distinct and have continued to evolve with the diaspora. Following 1948, tatreez evolved to reflect the experiences of Palestinians. Palestinian women began to incorporate the Palestinian flag and its colors into their tatreez as a means of resistance to the occupation of Palestine. Consequently, tatreez became an expression of the identity, heritage and resistance of Palestinian women and their dedication to preserve their ancient culture.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 | textile series

[sunbathe]

cat.

[weltenwellen]

Louise Glück, from “Solstice”, Poems 1962-2012

[lil-shiva]

[brushstroking]

selynn lee

[slowlikehoney1996]

today a first grader told me “when the sky turns orange, my grandpa picks me up” :)

[museiums]

selynn lee

[overwelmd]

daniel arthur

[sunbathe]

jaehakee

[artfilmfan]

Israelism (Erin Axelman & Sam Eilertsen, 2023)

[softwaring]

moon and rainbow at sunrise by mark ham

[coquette-club]

[humansofnewyork]

“My first end-of-life patient was a 97-year-old man. He had a much younger girlfriend; she was seventy-four. But they loved each other so much. Back when their spouses were still alive, the four of them had been great friends. They would double date together. And when their spouses passed away, the two of them became a thing. Every day she would come over for lunch. I’d always cook a little meal for them. I’d prepare the table; I’d lay out my little candles and my little flowers. As soon as she arrived I’d put on music and dim the lights, then I’d leave the room and go wait in the bedroom. They would cuddle and snuggle. And the beauty of it was, even though he couldn’t control his fluids at that point, she never minded the smell. Her love for him was so great that they would still kiss and all that good stuff. When the doctors said that it was time for him to go to hospice, he said he didn’t want to go. He told them that he wanted to come back home and die with me. I was with him in the end. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. One week after his passing I was hired by his girlfriend’s family. She had terminal Alzheimer’s, and I ended up staying with her for seven years. I fell in love with her. We were family, just family. She used to be a tap dancer. We’d sing together. And if she didn’t feel like singing, I’d sing. Even near the end, she always knew when something was wrong with me. When I wasn’t being the Gabby that she knew, she would always know. When the doctors said it was time for her to go to hospice, her children said: ‘We want her to die with Gabby.’ In the final days she wouldn’t eat, she’d lock her jaw. But she would always eat for me. One night I could see the fright in her eyes, and I knew it was time. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. So I climbed under the covers with her. And she passed away in my arms.”

[nobrashfestivity]

Felix Vallotton, The Bath, Summer Evening, 1893

[fatefuly]