Jenny Holzer, Black Book Posters, 1979

oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn

tannertan36
we're not kids anymore.

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
RMH

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Origami Around
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day

Kaledo Art

titsay
KIROKAZE

No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@oddlyillusory
Jenny Holzer, Black Book Posters, 1979
lesbians of color marching at the los angeles christopher street west pride parade, june 1979
source
Saturn seen in visible light, infrared and ultraviolet
Credit: NASA/ESA and E. Karkoschka (University of Arizona)
“Last night I photographed a Barn Owl hovering above prey at a local farm where I have been baiting them for some time, I did attempt this last winter but failed due to the lens misting, still a work in progress” ~ Roy Rimmer
September 2, 2021 at 04:35PM
there is so much content about changing your life or becoming and it’s like whatever man you’re missing what’s right in front of you. Imperfection is forever.
Tove Lo, Vogue Scandinavia, 2022
Man Ray, Decorative book binding.
Danez Smith, “little prayer”
When my son was about to turn two, strangers would offer condolences. There’s a collective cultural dread of toddlers, who get described more like animals than people. Kids in their "terrible twos," I was warned, are illogical, unregulated, and feral. "Good luck," people would say. "He'll grow out of it."
I'm lucky: My son is a very easygoing kid. But I remember the first tantrum he threw for me. He was standing by our front door and asked to go outside. So I opened the door and grabbed his shoes. But as soon as he stepped onto the porch, he pointed back into the house.
"Inside," he said.
"Okay," I said. I picked him up and brought him inside.
But as soon as I shut the front door, he pointed outside.
"Outside!" he said.
You know where this is going. We went back and forth, inside and outside, again and again. He got more frustrated. And I got more frustrated. Eventually he wound up straddling the threshold of our house, sobbing. When I tried to comfort him, he screamed at me. "You go wherever you want!" I said. He just got madder. I felt trapped, convinced he’d concocted the whole episode as a pretext to unleash his rage at me. It was ridiculous. I consoled myself with the thought that he was just being a toddler.
But later I kept thinking about him wailing at our front door, one foot inside, one foot outside. His misery wasn't unreasonable, or trivial, or silly. My son was experiencing the agony of wanting two things that were impossible to have at the same time. What a fundamentally human sorrow! My son wasn't being a toddler; he was being a person. Adults may not walk around howling, but that same pain rages within us. In that moment, as a father, I was powerless to solve my son's problem. I told him he could go wherever he wanted, but of course I was wrong. To be where he wanted was impossible.
Make Believe: On Telling Stories to Children by Mac Barnett
A woman must stay alone for a long while until the hate men have for women has left her, and even longer until the jealousy women have for other women has left her, and longer still until the anger her children have for her has left her—until she is no longer a woman altered by the resentment of men, women, and children, no longer what others have forced her to be, but empty as a skull or a shell, filled only by whatever she pleases, forest air perhaps.
— Kiran Desai, The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny
eagle huntress zamonbol / hannah reyes morales
tramp stamp that says all shall be well
almost died today
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