Where'd All The Time Go?

[grrl-beetle]

Julia Butterfly Hill

[apocryphics]

from Virginia Woolf's diaries, February 27th, 1926

[polkadotmotmot]

Baek Duri - Jari 35, 2025 - Acrylic on Canvas

[fuzzbby]

Polina Pak.

[gatheringbones]

soraya chemaly, from rage becomes her: the power of women’s anger, 2018

[pnglove]

RAT CAKE ♡🐀

[oxidi]

Pacific Alex Colville, 1967

[mozertone]

Owl-shaman, by Inuit artist Manasie Akpaliapik. 1999

bone, antler, sinew, and baleen (whale bone)

[cutecipher]

women love me because i am cute and only freak out badly sometimes

[crossofwishes]

by Yuming Li

[sarah-lyse]

Kiki Smith,

Untitled. 1992, beeswax, microcrystalline wax, cheesecloth, wood, and pigment, 28 x 36 x 24 in. (71.1 x 91.4 x 61 cm)

[apoemaday]

Wild Pear Tree

by Kaveh Akbar

it’s been January for months in both directions      frost over grass like pale fungus like mothdust      the branches of the pear tree are pickling in ice white as the long white line running from me to the smooth whales frozen in chunks of ocean from their vast bobbing to the blackwhite stars flowering into heaven      the hungry cat gnaws on a sliver of mirror and I have been chewing out my stitches wondering which warm names we should try singing wild thyme cowslip blacksnake      all the days in a year line up at the door and I deflect each saying no you will not be needed one by one they skulk off into the cold      the cat hates this place more than he loves me he cannot remember the spring when I fed him warm duck fat daily nor the kitchen vase filled with musky blue roses nor the pear tree which was so eager to toss its fruit so sweet it made us sleepy      I stacked the pears on the mantle until I ran out of the room and began filling them into the bathtub      one evening I slid in as if into a mound of jewels      now ghost finches leave footprints on our snowy windowsills      the cat paces through the night listening for their chirps            our memories have frosted over      ages ago we guzzled all the rosewater in the vase still we check for it nightly      I have forgotten even the easy prayer I was supposed to use in emergencies      something something I was not born here I was not born here I was not

[psikonauti]

Imants Tillers (Australian,b.1950)

Kangaroo Blank, 1988

Oil stick, gouache, oil paint and acrylic paint on 78 canvases

[lamignonette]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Pale colors in a tall field by Carl Phillips

[transparentfossil]

Amber Bug Fossils

[miodecalogo]

Maker’s Award” by Shary Boyle