Extremely rare solar halo captured during sunrise

Janaina Medeiros
Not today Justin

#extradirty
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

Origami Around
$LAYYYTER
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oozey mess

PR's Tumblrdome
Three Goblin Art
DEAR READER

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blake kathryn
Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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JVL

@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
Today's Document

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@maybuds
Extremely rare solar halo captured during sunrise
OH OKAY......
"girlmath" "girldinner" girl help overthrow the fascist regime NOW
Agnès Varda
An Interview with Hanif Abdurraqib
Recently, I began a weekend creative writing workshop with this exercise: write your sexual life story in five sentences. Short of gratuitous usage of semicolons, there was no wrong way to do this; the five-sentence story could be as abstract or as concrete as my students wanted. It could be a chronological list of the five most high-topography sexual events in their lives, or it could be a list of images more akin to a surrealist poem. After the allotted five minutes, they all set their pens down with a touch of weary accomplishment. Then I asked them to do it again. This request was met with stares, some uncomprehending, some with a touch of contempt. I pressed on. The only requirement was that they not reiterate any of the previous five sentences—they could zoom in to a single event, zoom out to a philosophical summary, make it silly, make it emotionally opposite, make it more honest, make it less or more abstract. After they’d finished, I asked them to do it for a third time. A fourth. At this point, many of their stares implied that I was unhinged, sadistic, or simply ridiculous. Eventually they stopped staring and started writing faster. Here’s the point: Their writing got better. It became truer. It became more theirs. I told them, We could do this all day. I meant: and not run out of ways to tell that story. More importantly, they would bear witness to something greater than mere improvement. Over the years, I’ve come to look forward to the point in my own writing at which continuing seems both incomprehensible and loathsome. That resistance, rather than marking the dead end of the day’s words, marks the beginning of the truly interesting part. That resistance is a kind of imaginative prophylactic, a barrier between me and a new idea. It is the end of the ideas that I already had when I came to the page—the exhaustion of narrative threads that were previously sewn into me by sources of varying nefariousness or innocuity. It is on the other side of that threshold that the truly creative awaits me, where I might make something that did not already exist. I just have to punch through that false wall.
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Body Work (Melissa Febos)
Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase
The "Block AI Enhancements" toggle was originally introduced in Firefox 148 Nightly in January following significant community backlash afte
The Firefox "AI kill switch" is here.
Go to Settings > AI controls. There, you can toggle the "master kill switch" on to fully block all the features, which means two things:
you won't see them,
you can't even be asked about them.
The default state is, like before, "available". This means the features are NOT on by default (they never were), but Firefox will let you know about them where they exist (e.g. when you create your first tab group) so that you can choose to opt in.
Please note that Firefox for Android or iOS have never included AI features, so you won't see these settings on your smartphones or tablets.
Please also note that, unlike popular belief here on Tumblr, besides "chatbot in sidebar" (which is simply embedding the same page you'd have normally browsed to), none of these features have ever interacted with anything outside your PC, because they download a small model to your computer, to do everything locally. These small models have never been and are not downloaded until you explicitly agree to turn on one of the features.
vallotton félix | “grünes haferfeld” kunstmuseum solothurn | 1912 | 73 x 100 cm | öl auf leinwand
Jenny Holzer vs. Wallace Stegner
Solitude by Franny Choi
Then by Muriel Rukeyser
On Valentine’s Day by Rafael Campo
God's First Failed Angel Lived in the Garden As a Bird
carved bluestone, ~12"x11"
Almond Blossom by Fiona Benson
“never forget that softness is strength, unflinching / against the knife and it is also the knife.”
— Jess Rizkallah, from “Ghada says,” The Magic My Body Becomes: Poems
Stilled life by Donna Allegra