"A History of Women: Vol. II."
The inheritance of suppression, silence as a relic is passed down through generations like jewelry. A matrilineal denial of expression in the material world, despite a lifetime of witnessing.
RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor

izzy's playlists!
NASA
h

JBB: An Artblog!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
hello vonnie
Show & Tell

No title available

No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

⁂
noise dept.
Sade Olutola

Discoholic 🪩

seen from Malaysia

seen from Netherlands

seen from China
seen from Serbia
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Poland

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Australia

seen from China

seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Brazil

seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from India

seen from Malaysia
@ruinfolk
"A History of Women: Vol. II."
The inheritance of suppression, silence as a relic is passed down through generations like jewelry. A matrilineal denial of expression in the material world, despite a lifetime of witnessing.
Rural Idaho.
"A History of Women | Vol. III"
#inspo
Santa Fe Depot
Atchison, Kansas
The purpose of this was to warn soldiers against sharing sensitive information / WW2
"A History of Women: Vol I."
Charles Cook • Untitled, 1920
“An Apparition of a Ghost”
late 19th century, England
I’ve been driving through eastern PA listening to moody music. I like to immerse myself in the atmosphere of where I am - romanticize it. But I turned off the music just now; it was too real.
To live in a place like this, you see rust is more than patina. The Doug Mastriano signs are real, and the billboards give instructions for how to get help.
Sometimes, the bit fades and there you are - raw and present.
out of time & out of mind
An American owl costume parade, USA, 1910s
https://www.slam.org/collection/objects/62656/
This belongs in the archives.
this is how ruinfolk speaks: not in words, but echoes. it is memory filtered through revelation.
we haunt a church of traces.