KRVenture @krventure - Tumblr Blog

Anderson .Paak & The Free Nationals: Tiny Desk

.Paak and his band reworked three cuts from Malibu, along with an audience request that shocked even them.

Alsarah & The Nubatones - Habibi Taal

Landed on this gem from a couple years ago. Love the background: “This is a traditional song from central Sudan that is a part of the women’s musical tradition, Aghani Albanat, performed at weddings and other social gatherings. Traditionally these songs are written and performed by women and are one of the few spaces that allow women to publicly express their feelings towards a romantic interest. And so, they have a tendency to be very simple flirty love songs with the sole purpose of making you dance. I think its very important to honor the simplicity of these lyrics and these songs because they express an important section of Sudanese society that is often ignored by practitioners of ‘high brow art’ (which tends to be Arab, male, and Muslim-centered) deeming it artistically lacking.”

digg

THE WEEKEND IS HERE BABY

npr

🎉 so ready 🎉 -Ariel

My only sunshine 🌻

secretdreamlife

r2--d2

Untitled

newyorker

“It’s amazing to witness how attitudes on gay rights have evolved in my lifetime,” said Jack Hunter, the artist behind the 2013 cover, “Moment of Joy.”

See more of our coverage of the Supreme Court and same-sex marriage.

fallontonight

“I’ll come to your house and install your cable, and that’ll be the end of it…”

travelthisworld

Skagit Valley Tulips

Skagit, Washington, USA | by Edmund Lowe

misswallflower

brouhahamagazine

When you kiss a boy and he says, “You are mine,” tell him you don’t belong to anyone but your cat, and even she’s a temporary renter. Break up with the boy who whipped out the “I love you” almost as quickly as he whipped himself out. Love is not something he can force into you just because it’s standing like a third person in the room. Love is not a tattoo. Love is a strand of Lady-and-the-Tramp spaghetti. Love meets, it does not stab. And if it stabs, it isn’t love. He will cry more than you do when you tell him you didn’t love him. You will sit on a tiled bathroom floor after the phone call is over and you will not cry. You will spend the next day eating Oreos and moving on. People will tell you to be hard. But don’t be the dick you rejected. Be soft, and hard when it matters. Don’t let anyone say you can’t spend months at a time in your head. If they do, move in permanently. Construct your own love. Admit you feel love, and for the people everyone assumed you wouldn’t love. Read Foucault. Read Butler. Become comfortable speaking the word “sex.” Say the word “queer” aloud like it’s a lifelong friend. Declare your difference. If people don’t understand, forgive them, then slowly change them. Find fault in everything you watch and read. Enjoy it all anyway. The word “normal” will become the bane of your existence. Work to change it, then work to live with it. Fall in love. Write a book about your life. People will ask if they can read it. Tell them no. Tell them it is therapy for the fingers. If they don’t understand, don’t force it. Write. And read. Learn that you are only a brain constructed by the world around you. Let this empower you.

Anonymous, “Becoming” (via brouhahamagazine)