tenderness

ivy: sweet n warm n golden n rich; a sort of beautifully delicate.

[grundoonmgnx]

Naila Hazell (British-Azerbaijani, b. 1981) Interacting with Shadows, 2022 

Oil on linen

[ayasafia]

Sunday Evening by JoeLius DuBois Porter

[pauladoodles-deactivated2024063]

[smooth]

[lifeinpoetry]

Sometimes my hands turn into claws and the ache stops me from texting. Know then that I still love you. Maybe call me? Maybe wait a little longer? Sometimes I will text you through the pain and I promise that is sacrificial love. I’m not saying it’s right. But is love right or wrong?

— Eli Tareq El Bechelany-Lynch, from "Dear friends, lovers, and in-betweens," Knot Body

[beyond-the-pale-deactivated2023]

@mrgryphon - The thrill, the fear, the hope, oil on paper, 2021

[godsopenwound]

Aimee Nezhukumatathil, "Baked Goods" from Lucky Fish

[turkialtu-deactivated20260303]

Edward Hopper ,, Coffee,,1955 .

[kitchen-light]

“Everyone wishes to be loved, but in the event, nearly no one can bear it. Everyone desires love but also finds it impossible to believe that he deserves it.”

— James Baldwin, Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone (via soracities)

[theycallmedizzy]

“reasons not to kiss her 1.) this sort of love is not allowed. you are both too soft, and the world around you is all knives and chipped teeth 2.) no one ever taught you how to love. your war paint and scarred hands could never hold her like she deserves 3.) no one has ever loved you this full surely you would drown in it all 4.) she belongs in a museum, and you are merely here to gaze. look around you, all the signs scream ‘do not touch’ 5.) she touches you like youre fragile, and if you break you wont be able put yourself together again 6.) she is all bubblegum skies and chapped stick kisses, and you cannot watch the love run out of another persons eyes 7.) if you jump, she might catch you, and then youd have to watch as she tumbled through the dark 8.) her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile 9.) she is so good. she is so good, and you cannot ruin one more good thing 10.) you will not watch her crumble under the weight of your sins. she is too light, too breathless to be caught up in the dizziness of your heart reasons to kiss her 1.) she loves you, and her eyes are closed, and didnt your mother ever tell you not to leave a good thing waiting”

— lessons in listening to your heart, and not your head

[195195119511951-deactivated2021]

[boykeats]

[ID: screenshot of the poem “any common desolation” by ellen bass. including the title, the poem reads:

Any Common Desolation can be enough to make you look up at the yellowed leaves of the apple tree, the few that survived the rains and frost, shot with late afternoon sun. They glow a deep orange-gold against a blue so sheer, a single bird would rip it like silk. You may have to break your heart, but it isn’t nothing to know even one moment alive. The sound of an oar in an oarlock or a ruminant animal tearing grass. The smell of grated ginger. The ruby neon of the liquor store sign. Warm socks. You remember your mother, her precision a ceremony, as she gathered the white cotton, slipped it over your toes, drew up the heel, turned the cuff. A breath can uncoil as you walk across your own muddy yard, the big dipper pouring night down over you, and everything you dread, all you can’t bear, dissolves and, like a needle slipped into your vein— that sudden rush of the world.

/end poem text]

[virtues-for-sale]

[girloikawa]

so much talk about love in the kitchen... what about the kitchen breakdowns

[girloikawa]

i am talking about baking at ungodly hours because you can’t sleep. i am talking about sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing. i am talking about staring into the fridge or the cabinets for minutes, there is nothing to eat and it makes you upset. i am talking about cooking at the stove, and then you’re wondering what it feels like for someone to wrap their arms around you from behind, and then you’re crying. i am talking about dishes upon dishes piled up in the sink. i am talking about eating on the floor. i am talking about the moment you realize that cooking for one stopped being efficient and started feeling agonizing. i am talking about mumbling to yourself in the kitchen and crying to yourself in the kitchen and when there’s only yourself in the kitchen

[girloikawa]

this

[phantomleaves]

Graveyard quilt

Elizabeth Roseberry [Mitchell] and her family were natives of Pennsylvania. She married Shadrach Mitchell on November 20, 1817 in Green County, Pa. In 1834, the family moved to Antioch, Ohio. They had the first seven of their 11 children with them during the move. In 1836, Elizabeth's young son, John Vanetta, died. At that time Elizabeth started a mourning quilt (different from this one, currently in the collection of the Kentucky Highlands Museum) and put a coffin with John's name on it in the graveyard at the center. The family moved again about 1840 to Lewis County, Ky. Brothers Roseberry and Mathias (called Bub) soon returned to Ohio. In January 1843, Matthias died at age 19; how or why is no longer known. Elizabeth added his name to the quilt that was still only in the quilt-top phase. Batting and backing had not been added and the quilting had not been started. Apparently Elizabeth was dissatisfied with that quilt and started a new one around Matthias' 1843 death. It is this second, finished quilt that is in the Kentucky Historical Society collections. Some fabrics are used in both quilts.

Each paper casket on the periphery bears a relative's name. All of Elizabeth and Shadrach Mitchell's children have a marked casket. The empty coffin space in the lower left corner once held the coffin labeled "Mother," which is now in the graveyard area. Some other family members were added. As each relative died, the year would be added to the tag and moved to the cemetery at the center. First Elizabeth Roseberry Mitchell then her daughters Sarah (Sis) and Elizabeth (Lib) cared for the mourning quilt. After Elizabeth's death in 1867, Sarah continued to alter the quilt until about 1870. Clearly she stopped making alterations before her father's death in 1875 although she lived until 1911. This quilt is an excellent example of nineteenth century mourning customs as well as an illustration of the emotions and experiences that were often expressed by women through their quilts.

source

[riccardoguasco]

“S/partiti”

Riccardo Guasco 2021

[jamjarsinthecellarofyourheart-d]

[05-remaking]

three cherubs oil - eduardo tojetti

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