Adventures and Explorations!

Juniper here! student, dancer, fandom trash. observations of this strange world through tumblr.

[bellafleurz]

[prismantis]

gif for whenever you need to lock in

[kroovv]

Just a lil guy 🌿

[textless]

[flimflix]

brought some fruit for the potluck

[penelopepseudonym]

A dark, foreboding feeling overtakes you. You know this face, even in its absence.

[moosiala-deactivated20250927]

[nobrashfestivity]

Carolee Schneemann,  Fuses, 1964-1967

16mm film  

[sandmandaddy69]

[girlnephew]

[ghostnpc]

a little late to the party, but i haven't stopped thinking about this movie for months so I had to reteach myself to use iMovie and make this

[matelate]

my boyfriend made this incredible and emotionally wrecking edit for I Saw The TV Glow

[ghosthouseart]

peachtober day 30: MOSS

[image description: a watercolor painting of a ghost whale floating through a lush green forest, with sunlight filtering through the trees. the whale has bright greenish yellow moss and small white mushrooms growing from its back. /end i.d.]

[soracities]

“NYT: What books are you embarrassed not to have read yet? TEJU COLE: I have not read most of the big 19th — century novels that people consider “essential,” nor most of the 20th-century ones for that matter. But this does not embarrass me. There are many films to see, many friends to visit, many walks to take, many playlists to assemble and many favorite books to reread. Life’s too short for anxious score-keeping. Also, my grandmother is illiterate, and she’s one of the best people I know. Reading is a deep personal consolation for me, but other things console, too.”

— Teju Cole, “Teju Cole: By The Book” A New York Times Q&A, March 6, 2014  (via prousts)

[matelate]

i see someone with purple outfit and a bob blonde wig and my mind immediately assumes Rose cosplay

[givingdirt]

[reachartwork]

hole in the sky

[bauliya]

have y'all HEARD

[lantern-hill]

oh dorianne laux we’re really in it now

[taqrir]

[ID: a poem titled “Antilamentation” by Dorianne Laux. It reads:

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook. Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication. Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones that crimped your toes, don’t regret those. Not the nights you called god names and cursed your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch, chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness. You were meant to inhale those smoky nights over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches. You’ve walked those streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it, not one of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing, when the lights from the carnival rides were the only stars you believed in, loving them for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved. You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake, ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation. Relax. Don’t bother remembering any of it. Let’s stop here, under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

End ID.]