
Kaledo Art

blake kathryn
KIROKAZE
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
No title available
Monterey Bay Aquarium
todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin

★
i don't do bad sauce passes
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
will byers stan first human second
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
NASA
Xuebing Du
hello vonnie
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@sevanlost
"The Silence of the Forest" (Das Schweigen des Waldes), by Arnold Böcklin, 1896.
Joy Sullivan, from "Late Bloomer", Instructions for Traveling West
“Thats not realistic”
Yeah not for YOU, you unwhimsical bitch
Thomas Mann, from “Death in Venice”, originally published c. 1912.
Thomas Mann, from “Death in Venice”, originally published c. 1912.
When these traits enhance rather than detract, they infuse creativity and empower uniqueness, stimulating intellect and cultivating personal growth, leading to a deeper understanding of the world around us.
good m(ourning) Najya Williams
(emerges 3 hours later covered in blood) i figured out what emotion i was feeling
In Armenian, when we want to say “damn you” or “go to hell”, we use the expressions "գրողը քեզ տանի" [groxy qez tani] or "գնա գրողի ծոցը" [gna (kori) groxi tsocy], which translate to “may the writer take you away” or “go and get lost in the writer’s embrace” in English. You might wonder, “Who is this writer-person?” and “Why is it considered a curse?”
According to traditional Armenian belief, Grox (the writer) is a spirit who records a person's deeds during their lifetime, determining the purity of their soul. This concept may be linked to Tir, the god of writing and literature in Armenian mythology. In some interpretations, it was believed that anyone whose name Tir wrote in his notebook would die. This is where the curse "may the writer take you" originates.
During the Christian era, Grox was mistakenly represented as a Christian spirit who no longer recorded human deeds but instead determined each person's fate, inscribing it on their foreheads. Over time, Grox came to be depicted as an evil spirit, sometimes identified with Satan. Thus, the curse "get lost in Grox’s embrace," which originally signified death, took on a more negative connotation. However, this was not originally characteristic of Grox in Armenian traditional beliefs.
So, if you want to get creative with your curses, instead of saying “go to hell,” you can use the phrase “get lost in the writer’s embrace”.
"Երանի գրողին, որ տարավ քեզ:"
"Blessed is the writer who took you away."
"Cat and Moth" by Neva Hosking
it suffocates, having to navigate through everything and everyone through labels and categories that dont matter the least to me. stuck between clashing groups that I relate more to the soil underneath than to any of them. oh how I long for freedom from my burdens. to look in the mirror and see something. to move around as I please without the rattle of shame and hyperawareness dragging behind ringing in my ears. what I need is a mouthful of innocence, and a world that welcomes it, unlike the one that produced me.
“For myself, I have no aim. I have no ambition. I will let myself be carried on by the general impulse. The surface of my mind slips along like a pale-grey stream reflecting what passes. I cannot remember my past, my nose, or the colour of my eyes, or what my general opinion of myself is. Only in moments of emergency, at a crossing, at a kerb, the wish to preserve my body springs out and seizes me and stops me, here, before this omnibus. We insist, it seems, on living. Then again, indifference descends. The roar of the traffic, the passage of undifferentiated faces, this way and that way, drugs me into dreams; rubs the features from faces. People might walk through me. And, what is this moment of time, this particular day in which I have found myself caught? The growl of traffic might be any uproar – forest trees or the roar of wild beasts. Time has whizzed back an inch or two on its reel; our short progress has been cancelled. I think also that our bodies are in truth naked. We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these pavements are shells, bones and silence.”
— Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via jaimelannister)
Random assortment of photos of Brian Jones where he has ‘love interest in a Jacques Demy fairytale adaptation’ energy.
Pied Piper - Donovan