Grace & Things

I'm a grad student studying social psychology and neuroscience, and a newly-horseless eventer. I love quiet, reading, photography, nature, sailing, nudibranchs, baseball, and statistics. I take too many photos of flowers and plants. If you don't want to see DC-centric sports posts occasionally, blacklist "sports feelings".

[pure]

Me when i see a wild animal in a metropolitan area: reclaim your space, we are the invaders, retake what is yours

[gumtooth]

the sun has no business tapping out at the tender hour of 5pm bitch i have depression

[saisirlesjour]

springtime.

[smithsonianlibrariesarchives]

[rurupoi]

A ridiculously fast growing spider plant (Chlorophytum comosum). I’m so excited for baby plantlets!

[aleyma]

William Trost Richards, Indian Summer, 1875 (source).

[stormkinged]

We interrupt your regularly scheduled portrait programming for this horse skull.

Happy Halloween and skulls and things.

Available on Society6

[clarenecessities]

there’s something endlessly hilarious to me about the phrase “hotly debated” in an academic context. like i just picture a bunch of nerds at podiums & one’s like “of course there was a paleolithic bear cult in Northern Eurasia” and another one just looks him in the eye and says “i’l kill you in real life, kevin”

[crockpotcauldron]

[dukeofbookingham-deactivated202]

It got better

[lesbianartandartists]

Fran Winant, Dog with Secret Language (1975)

In drawings and paintings, like Dog with Secret Language, Cindy [Winant’s dog] is surrounded and literally protected by the secret language that Winant devised as a child for writing “journals and poems full of inexpressible loving thoughts about persons of the ‘wrong’ gender.”

Harmony Hammond, Lesbian Art in America (New York: Rizzoli, 2000), 43.

[goth-aunt]

You guys need to stop reeblogging beautiful vintage homes that are in Arkansas or whatever and are like 100K. I don’t care how beautiful and inxepensive they are. I’m not moving to Arkansas. 

[quieteventer]

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Theodore Roosevelt, “The Man in the Arena”

[butthorn]

[quieteventer]

Relationship status: Googling couples' Halloween costumes for my dog and me

[caterpiii]

[larapaulussen]

[gsmess]

“Minimal” 19 x 24 inch ink on paper.

facebook.com/equineartbystevemessenger?ref=bookmarks

[bookofoctober-deactivated201908]