[littlehappinesss]

He’s a toasted marshmallow

[of-foolish-and-wise]

Here’s the thing to remember about anti-racist book lists:

Read these, yes. But then read books that were not written as treatises on racism. Seek out Black art not only because it can teach you something about race but because Black people are simply doing extraordinary work.

Read Morrison as much for her prose and her mastery of pacing as for her politics. Read Ross Gay’s Book of Delights, an ode to little wonders and a reminder to look at the world with gratitude. Read Elizabeth Alexander’s stunning testament to grief and marriage, The Light of the World, and note the innovations in form as she mixes memoir with poetry and recipes, a collage meant to mirror her late husband’s paintings. Read NK Jemisin’s The Fifth Season and marvel at the worlds she builds.

Just a small reminder. Black art does not exist solely to educate non-Black people. Always be expanding your horizons.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty (Jonas Mekas, 2000)

[theoptia]

“Moon of my life!”

— Charles Baudelaire, from Les Fleurs du mal (tr. The Flowers of Evil); “The Possessed” 

[stillrun]

Waves in San Diego. #120film

[fatmdaily]

Happy 8th year anniversary to Florence + The Machine’s second studio album Ceremonials! Truly a masterpiece.

[distantvoices]

Sian Scale By Amie Milne For Å Journal October 2019

[fotogrimsi-deactivated20230306]

[closure]

♡

[naturlites]

.

[willows-mossy-corner]

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

“it is so extraordinary to be oneself—exactly oneself and no one else—”

— The Woman Destroyed, Simone de Beauvoir

[expressions-of-nature]

by Bastien Herve

[quiet-nymph]

PΛUL HΛNNINEN on Instagram

[matialonsorphoto]

[pleoros]

[tolackcolour]

There Beren came from mountains cold, And lost he wandered under leaves, And where the Elven-river rolled. He walked along and sorrowing. He peered between the hemlock-leaves And saw in wonder flowers of gold Upon her mantle and her sleeves, And her hair like shadow following. Enchantment healed his weary feet That over hills were doomed to roam; And forth he hastened, strong and fleet, And grasped at moonbeams glistening. Through woven woods in Elvenhome She lightly fled on dancing feet, And left him lonely still to roam In the silent forest listening. He sought her ever, wandering far Where leaves of years were thickly strewn, By light of moon and ray of star In frosty heavens shivering. Her mantle glinted in the moon, As on a hill-top high and far She danced, and at her feet was strewn A mist of silver quivering. When winter passed, she came again, And her song released the sudden spring, Like rising lark, and falling rain, And melting water bubbling. He saw the elven-flowers spring About her feet, and healed again He longed by her to dance and sing Upon the grass untroubling.

– J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

[haartstrings-deactivated2021073]

Princess Mononoke, background art