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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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KIROKAZE
we're not kids anymore.
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@moon-stem
Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment. Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment. Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment.
Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment.
Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment.
Witchcraft is not a substitute for medical treatment.
do you actually believe in tarot?
Y'ALLS INCESSANT BINARY THINKING WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME
I THINK THE HUMAN MINDS ABILITY TO FIND PATTERNS IN CHAOS IS ITSELF MAGIC
Hey did you happen to see that post about indigenous brands to shop from or to support. I’m looking for it at the moment
This ask has been sitting in my inbox forever - and I’m really sorry about that - but I finally found it!!! I’m also gonna add some other links from other posts too.
List of indigenous owned businesses
Pendleton blankets from the Navajo Water Project
Indigenous authors to add to your bookshelf
This isn’t really for shopping, these are just a good list of links to donate to to help multiple indigenous communities in the face of COVID 19
While we're at it on this 4th of July:
Donate to the Quileute Tribe's Move to Higher Ground fundraiser
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Donate to the Indian Residential School Survivors Society
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Visit the website for the Lakota Law Project where you can donate, educate yourself, and/or sign the petition to tell Biden to Stop Line 3
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Follow Otaes aka @ndn.o on Instagram or their Patreon for Indigenous history lessons
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Visit the website for the Native American Disability Law Center for resources on how to help
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For resources on MMIW, visit the websites for Coalition to Stop Violence Against Native Women and MMIW USA
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If there's more Native and Indigenous orgs/businesses/ppl that y'all know, please add them!
Sovereign Bodies Institute:
https://www.sovereign-bodies.org/
The coat was a li'l wrinkly from being in the finished pile for a while before photographing 🌚🌝 but I'm happy with the newest Elf Coat and the pictures I got! This one I'll be keeping 💜
This is so empowering to see proving that despite how hard the churches and Canadian government tried. They failed to "kill the Indian in the child" and that we will continue to flourish in our beautiful culture ✊🏽✊🏽✊🏽 and we will never give up
Kharis: The Reciprocal Relationship with the Gods
In Ancient Greece, kharis was by its very definition the centre of the relationship between gods and humans, and was understood to be mutual obligation and good standing; a reciprocal relationship of kindness given freely and in thanks for previous and continued kindness. Cultivating kharis with the gods was considered to be good eusebeia εὐσέβεια which is another interesting word meaning (but not totally encompassed by) proper pious conduct in regard to the gods.
Kharis Χάρις is a beautiful word meaning many beautiful things - grace, kindness, goodwill, elegance, favour, joy, charity, beauty. Grace as a verb in English also means “bring honour or credit to (someone or something) by one’s attendance or participation,” as in they graced our presence.
We praise and thank the gods for the many beautiful things in our lives, that they may look favourably upon us and continue to bestow these good and beautiful things, so we may in turn continue to praise and thank them. Building and maintaining this relationship is the pinnacle of worship.
Ancient Greek Religion; A Sourcebook, Emily Kearns: By praising the god, goodwill is created and a relationship of reciprocity is built up, things the Greeks understood in the word charis and something which was fostered, at its most basic level, by the simple practice of verbally greeting a god whose shrine one happened to pass. […] Of course the gods were the superior partners, yet it was often assumed that they could enjoy and thus benefit from what humans offered them […]
Greek Religion, Walter Burkert “Eusebia”: Man attempts to find the good pleasure of the gods, aresasthai, to make them cheerful, hilaskesthai, for the anger of the gods is dangerous, and the best thing is to have them bestow favour with a smile, in an act of charis, just as one greets the gods like a friend with chaire, be joyful.
Greek Religion, Walter Burkert “Philosophical Religion”: It is true that men must not attempt to influence the gods by sacrifices, prayer and votive gifts, but for the gifts that flow from the gods’ goodness they may well express their thanks and friendly affection in the traditional way of charis. Gifts between friends are unobjectionable, indeed natural.
The Kharites, or Graces, were the personification of the beauty of kharis and, as per Theoi.com, “The idea of personified grace and beauty was, as we have already seen, divided into a plurality of beings at a very early time, probably to indicate the various ways in which the beautiful is manifested in the world and adorns it.”
I think part of the issue is people assuming that everyone MUST want to move upwards. Like… it’s the next logical step for a person to want to move up the chain: from worker to manager, to district manager, eventually owner.
But I always think of growth like plants.
Aspens grow tall to reach the sun, for sure. But dandelions grow deep, understanding themselves fully so that if some misguided fool tries to uproot them they’d have to try damn hard. And then there’s thyme and other creeping plants, which spread themselves out so much that if you chop a part of it off it roots wherever it can find dirt to root in.
It’s okay not to have lofty dreams. You know what kind of plant you are better than anyone else.
Okay not solarpunk but so so important. Don’t waste your life in pursuit of what other people think you ought to strive for
The Ritual - digital illustration
Print available
I don’t understand people who are cynical beyond all reason. Like yes, we can be realistic about people’s wants and motives, but people extend that beyond the realm of the pale? Yes, love is caused by a brain chemical, but that doesn’t stop making it love. Yes, a baby’s reflex to smile isn’t a conscious intent to smile, but it’s a first smile from your baby nevertheless, and it shows that they’re safe and warm. Like? Don’t spoil things that didn’t need spoiling? Just because we understand the mechanics of good things doesn’t mean we have to “disprove” them of being good.
I don’t know what to fucking say anymore.
I’m tired. I’m hurt. I’m sad. And angry, like, really FUCKING angry.
They were children, they were only kids. And they found 215 of their corpses buried near those goddamn schools. It shouldn’t even be called a school.
As an indigenous person, this is fucking heartbreaking. But it’s not like it’s new. Shit like this has been happening and will continue happen unless we do something about it.
Sign a petition
Support indigenous artists/creators/actors
Educate yourself on residential schools and the generational trauma that we endure
Just PLEASE for the love of god talk about this.
We can’t keep letting shit like this slide. That was only one school where they found those kids. Imagine how many more have mass graves on the premises. This isn’t just “a dark chapter in our country’s history” this was and still is the whole fucking book. There are people in my community who have lived through the horrors of residential schools and many more that live with the trauma it brought.
The link below me is a petition to call for a national day of mourning for the kids who didn’t make it home to their families.
Please sign and share it. Remember these kids and the horrors they went through because we should NEVER forget this atrocity.
Call for a National Day of Mourning for the Lost Children of Residential School
How come whenever black people say that Hoodoo is closed to nonblack witches the FIRST THING white witches say is “Well then only white witches can practice Celtic/Hellenistic paganism (or any other OPEN European religion/spiritual practice).
Like it just shows how uneducated y’all are. Honestly. Celtic and Hellenistic paganism are OPEN practices. There is no requirements to join. Hoodoo was made by SLAVES, SLAVEESSSSS! Made by African slaves FOR African slaves and their descendants to help protect themselves. Why, as a white witch, would you want to use the spirits of slaves and black ancestors to do work for you??? Like why???
Idea:
Medusa wasn’t Cursed with Snake Hair and Scales.
She Already had Snake Hair and Scales and was still the hottest lady the Gods have ever seen.
To be fair Medusa is supposedly one of the three Gorgon sisters, so it makes sense that there would be a family resemblance
Yeah that’s why I had to post this
I’ve read too many stories where it’s like “she’s a Gorgon” then near the end of the story they say “she was cursed with snake hair and features”
And I’m just like “…Wait.”
I think the only thing she was truly cursed with were the eyes that turn people to stone
someone draw beautiful medusa with scales and snake hair before being cursed p le a s e
I already had a little idea in my head so…
The men yell, “she’s a monster! She should be hunted down and killed”. They’ve said it before, they’ve tried it before. She steals women and devours them, the men yell. “She comes in the night and takes women away when they’re on a half-awake wander to the chamber pot or a drink of water. She steals them away to her lair and devours them whole. Why else do women not return?”
The women whisper, “she’s a savior. She should be sought for sanctuary and love.” They whisper it around the well whenever they see the shadows of a bruise on their friends’ bodies. Whenever someone who once was vivacious and bright is now dull and flinches from friendly touches. “Go in the night,” they say, “when he’s so drunk he sleeps heavily. Take only what he won’t notice is missing. Don’t worry about clothes or food, she will provide. You will be cared for. Why would you want to return?”
She says, “welcome home. You will be safe here,” with a soft smile and softer eyes. The snakes that curl around her head are more colors than you’ve ever seen in your life. She tilts her head as she takes in your bundle of precious items, the bruises on your arm, your face, around your neck. A cloud passes over her face and the sun, and you see the snakes are black. The look passes, the cloud moves away, the sun strikes the snakes again and they’re a shifting array of colors again. “Come, meet your sisters,” she says, gesturing as she turns and you look to see dozens of women coming out of the cave, smiling and happy. The group comes forward, splitting to either side of you, leaving a path to the cave and a path behind you leading back. “Welcome, you’re safe.” You step forward, peace settling into your heart. You will never return.
@monochromatic-stardust
The men at the drinking party sat around laughing at the younger man. “You mean to tell us that a woman was beating her husband? Ha! What a jokester you are.”
“You are probably just too embarrassed to admit you got that black eye from doing something stupid.”
“Besides even if you were telling the truth, just be a man and fight back! Or have you no guts at all? We all know your wife is a spitfire but she is still a woman, and you are a man.”
The young man was used to these responses from the older men of the village, to the point that his heart was turned to stone from it. His wife, whom he had been arranged to marry, was not like most of the other women he had met in his life. She was cruel and truly wicked and often drunk. She took advantage of the young man’s youth and lack of experience. Even if the people thought that she was a weak woman, she knew that she was stronger than her young husband, who had less strength than a hungry dog. And of course, no one would believe that a woman could overpower a young man like that.
On this day however, the young man decided to take a chance. He approached the well where he had often seen one woman in particular talking to the women who had vanished only a day or two before then, and she was there today.
“Excuse me. I have a quick question for you.”
The woman, who was just pulling her bucket out of the well turned to him somewhat surprised. “Yes?”
“Is…is it true…what the women whisper about the Gorgon in the woods…that…she helps women whose husbands beat them?”
The woman seemed suspicious of him at first, “Where did you hear that?”
“I just…” the man looked around nervously before removing the bandages from his face to show her his purple-ringed eye and swollen lip.
The woman hesitated before repeating the words she often did to many others, “ Go in the night,” she said, “when he-…she is so drunk he sleeps heavily. Take only what she won’t notice is missing. Don’t worry about clothes or food, she will provide. You will be cared for. Why would you want to return?”
Before the young man could even thank her, his wife stormed up behind him, “What are you doing talking to another woman!?”
The young man hesitated before the woman at the well said, “He saw me struggling with my bucket and came to help me. Nothing more.”
“I see.” his wife grumbled, clearly still skeptical.
A few nights later, the young man fled. He was quiet and stealthy, until he got to the forest, where he quickly pushed forward into a sprint. He ran and ran, doing his best to remember the directions to the place that promised safety.
Once at last he came across the cave, he stood panting at its mouth before taking his first steps in. He soon found himself in a big lit chamber, women whom he had recognized as from his same village sat around. Some drinking and eating, others playing games, others braiding each other’s hair. But when he entered, they all looked up at him, some in surprise, others in shock, or fear.
“What is a man doing here?” they whispered, “Has the village sent a mercenary after Medusa?” “Are we no longer safe here?” the whispers grew into an almost deafening cacophony of the same hopelessness he felt back in the village. Surely, he thought, these women who are fearful of their husbands would not want to welcome a man among them. Perhaps I should have stayed at home, and let them be.
However, when he turned to leave, he found himself face to face with the gorgon woman. Her eyes seemed to pierce deep into his very soul, as if to weed through the annals of his true self.
His mind raced, trying to think of what to say to defend himself against this protector of women, to justify his entrance into this blessed sanctuary for the broken and beaten. But before he could part his lips, she spoke.
“Fear not my sisters. Look upon the wounds on his face. He too has come hear for safety from violence. Look into his eyes. He is afraid and hurt, as many of you were when you first came to me. Young man, you are welcome here, for this is a place of safety from cruelty. I know all too well that the hardships of life do not discriminate those of whom they strike against. Come, to your new home, and meet your sisters. Come and be safe.”
She gently took his bundles and began to carry them away, and when she looked back at him to see if he was following, he felt her eyes peer deep inside him, and begin to shed away the stone that had encased his heart.
(I hope you like this addition because male abuse victims also need happy endings.)
Oh my gosh…
This is such a beautiful and tearjerking addition
Thank you
The fact that this version of her reverts stone back to people:
After I came out as bi a few years ago, a fellow Chinese American asked me, “so does this mean you want to be like white people?”
As QTBIPOC, a form of LGBTQA-phobia we often face is from our own ethnic groups, who believe that queer = foreign.
Yet when we delve into our histories, we see that nothing could be further than the truth. In many of our cultures, before Western influence, our queerness was ANCIENT. ✨
What do you think of trans women? Personally as a trans woman I think there are no words in the english language to describe how amazing we are
I think you're great and trans women are always the best at choosing names??? I met a trans woman once whose name was Aphrodite. Straight up. Killer name if you ask me
More details about Aphrodite: I met her and her girlfriend in line for an LGBT club the Christmas before the pandemic. She was so stunning. She was tall, her bone structure was like that of a Greek statue, and she had this gorgeous long curly hair that just looked so healthy and shiny. I've never seen healthier looking hair in my life. Her makeup was subtle but unmistakably glittery. She approached me to tell me that my eyeshadow was gorgeous and asked me where I got it. Inside the club she then told me I was the most beautiful woman on earth and vanished into the night.
I don’t think you just met a trans woman I think you met the actual fucking Aphrodite
And I will never forget her.
This means Aphrodite is a trans woman
She's Latina too since I'm Brazilian and this happened near my hometown!
Aphrodite also spoke just.. so calmly. Like she knew without a shadow of a doubt that eventually everything was gonna be ok. She gave me a feeling of peace.
When she told me I was beautiful she didn't just go "OMG YOU'RE SO PRETTY". Instead, she approched me at the bar inside the club, looked at me for a few seconds, smiled fondly, twirled a piece of my hair not flirtatiously, but like a grandmother who hasn't seen their grandchild in ages, and said to me in Portuguese "você é linda de parar o coração" (aka, "you're beautiful enough to stop a heartbeat"), gave me another smile, and then disappeared- never to be seen again.
No you literally met Aphrodite
OP I think you literally met the greek goddess Aphrodite
Thanks for the books, mom 🌺 (they're not specifically local to my region, but i know they include local plants!)
