Half Asleep and Half Divine

Chris, he/they, spiritual/aesthetic/whatever. Title lyric from Lost and Found by Tyler Lyle.

[ashstfu]

[dilapidatedwordsmith]

[Image ID:

As Long As There Is Love, There Will Be Grief.

The grief of time passing, of life moving on half-finished, of empty spaces that were once bursting with the laughter and energy of people we loved.

As long as there is love there will be grief because grief is love’s natural continuation.

It shows up in the aisles of stores we once frequented, in the half-finished bottle of wine we pour out, in the whiff of cologne we get two years after they’ve been gone.

Grief is a giant neon sign, protruding through everything, pointing everywhere, broadcasting loudly, “Love was here.”

In the finer print, quietly, “Love still is.”

Heidi Priebe

/End ID]

[catholicapothecary]

[justalittlesolarpunk]

This is the foundation of all hope btw. In the words of Tolkien, 'despair is for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.'

[shabbytigers]

A. E. Stallings: Auguries

The wilted season: peacocks drop their tails,

The vines drop leaves

And wear a bunch of raisins on their sleeves.

The scoured sky pales.

Cicadas grate and grate the air

Like pencil sharpeners. Hope

Shrinks like a bar of soap.

The sea’s ten-thousand-league long stare

Goes on, unblinking. Things are bad

Elsewhere, I know. It’s hard to write

Knowing it is no way to fight.

It’s easier to be sad.

What do the cicadas sharpen for?

I think of those new pencils, fresh erasers.

How the year began in autumn, pleasures

Of the clean slate. No more.

Not far away some people starve. (Are starved.)

And far away, at home,

Whatever home is, the old fall of Rome

Plays out, as new fasces are being carved.

Nothing will get better from here on out,

That’s what I often think.

Cheer me up. Tell me there’s room for doubt

The way the sunset goes all in for pink

Then indigo, the way there are still stars

Beyond the light pollution

And satellites. Bad men may go to Mars

And leave us, evil suffer a diminution.

For better or worse, we vowed.

But what gets better?

The zithering cicadas think out loud

That August is getting hotter. (Not cooler and wetter.)

The swallows, having raised this summer’s brood,

Set out for Africa, and their young

Will boomerang to us again. That’s good?

And that we live among

That generation that knew things as they were.

The autumn rains will come again

At least this year,

And autumn cyclamen.

Ignorant beauty still takes pains

Although the world is cruel, and getting crueller.

And if the moon gets fuller

Like a tick with blood, it also wanes.

The doomed go on, cheerfully, undaunted:

The peacock does not know his tail will grow (he’s brave),

The vines, they will be pruned. All that I wanted,

I have. There’s nothing we can save.

[aaeternamque]

The Spirit of Spongecake Day and the Passage of Time

I'm 33 now. I've got silver hair coming in my hair and what beard I've managed to grow thus far. Today I got groceries and there are strawberries in my fridge. I was maybe 19 when I made that offering and in many respects that part of my life feels like it happened to someone else.

Not in the sense that I've turned away from it, but that key choices I made in my mid-20s allowed me to grow into who I am now. (And who I suspect I would have always been, had it not be for many factors in my personal life.) My circumstances have changed, but the past housing and food insecurity is never far from my mind.

When the offering was made, I certainly never expected that anyone would remember it after so long. Nor would I have believed that some people still mark it on their calendar as a low-effort, low-cost way to honor Loki with sweets and humor. I put the photo out there, but to was the Lokean community who decided what it was. You all, still, decide what it is.

As my circumstances have changed and I'm lucky enough to be able to, I plan on making a donation to a local food bank in my area on Spongecake Day. The amount depends on how much I'm able to save, but at least a few hundred. I say this not to pat myself on the back but to consider how Spongecake Day's meaning, for me, has grown as I have.

The core of the original offering was that I didn't have a lot of fresh food and offered what I had, even though I wanted to hoard it all for myself. Times, especially in the US where I live, are such that many families are struggling to get food or other things they need. For me, as an adult with some expendable income, Spongecake Day is more about paying it forward. Helping others. I strongly believe that if I have the ability to help, I am morally and ethically obligated to do so. And I believe this is what Loki might expect as well. I am, again, speaking for myself and my practice.

I see Spongecake Day as a day of humor, silliness, taking joy in the small things we can do and that no act of devotion is too small. I also see it as a reminder to care for others in our respective communities in any way we can. Especially in this current political and social climate, when government systems are unable to care for their people as they ought to.

Ultimately, the choice is not mine to decide what Spongecake Day is or will be in the future. Or if it indeed has a future. It's up to the Lokean community at large. It doesn't belong to me. It belongs to all of us.

[lokeanwelcomingcommittee]

This is so heartwarming, and what a beautiful message. I'm sorry you received the initial response that you received, but I've always loved that the community rallied and turned it into something fun (and sort of a "fuck you" to folks who want to dictate others' practice).

Spongecake Day is very much alive and breathing. The bard quite literally sing of your tale, LOL!

Donating to a local food bank is such a lovely idea - I'll take up that tradition too, and I encourage others to do so!

-R

[iconuk01]

"The Source"

by Luo Li Rong

View this post on Instagram

[iconuk01]

Yes, this is Luo Yi Rong, who absolutely is the same sculptor from that astonishingly inept self-own by an idiot.

[dappermouth]

And then you had that dream again.

[emmaklee]

Nishimoto Ryota

a piece of wood carved to fit perfectly into a zippered plastic bag

[transtamlin]

enjoy some more Objects: https://www.nishimotoryota.com/index.html

nishimoto ryota

[crossconnectmag]

Crocheted Leaf Sculptures by Susanna Bauer

To truly appreciate the delicacy of Susanna Bauer‘s leaf sculptures, think of crunching a dead leaf in your hand, how it disintegrates into dust with the slightest effort. To work with dry and fragile leaves as a medium for crochet seems nearly impossible, but Susanna somehow manages it with ease, turning leaves into cubes, tunnels, and geometric patterns with techniques that might be more appropriate for the durability of leatherwork. She lives and works in Cornwall, England. You can see more on her website and Facebook. 

Want to keep up with art?  Check out our Twitter feed.

posted by tu recepcja  via

[strathshepard]

Sky Ladder by Cai Guo-Qiang. The Sky Ladder was unveiled in 2016 over Quanzhou, China. It burned for 2 minutes and 30 seconds. It was the artist’s fourth and final attempt, as previous attempts had met only varying degrees of success. The artist says he had dreamt of a fire ladder 21 years prior and was very excited to see it come to life.

[weepingwidar]

David Shrigley (British, 1968) - I've Never Seen You (2020)

[justiceleagueofassholes]

Well of course I love my wife, who held me when I was a bear and a cat and a snake and a burning hot coal. Of course I love the woman who risked life and limb to drag me from my horse and into the land of the living.

But so what if I sometimes think of the Friendly Court, where I was ever sun warmed and drowsy. Just because the bushes bore forever fruit and I wanted for nothing and could ride swift as song amongst the Hunt. Its whatever.

[xensilverquill]

you wanna talk about it, tam lin?

[akaanir-of-starfleet]

#obviously i AM glad not to be tithed to hell. like. that IS a clear upside to not being the favorite of the faerie queen. #and to be honest my wife is a better conversationalist. much less likely to lose her temper and curse you to speak frogs for a week. #but like. i'm a complex creature. #and sometimes a man DOES miss the undying court where the very leaves rang like silver chimes under the full moon. (via @words-writ-in-starlight)

[whiskeycoloredeye]

one of my best photos

[knighthearts]

i watched one (1) video on how to draw hands that changed my life forever. like. i can suddenly draw hands again

these were all drawn without reference btw. i can just. Understand Hands now (for the most part, im sure theres definitely inaccuracies). im a little baffled

[knighthearts]

for those of u asking for the vid!

[tiktoks-i-enjoyed]

A short poem: The thing we couldn't do becomes the thing we can

By @ goodthings4blackgirls.

[wovi]

[ralfmaximus]

"While I was trying to photograph the Northern Lights in the wee hours of the morning, my cat decided to photobomb the picture. Since I had the camera’s shutter speed maxed out, it ended up leaving a sort of ghostly image of my cat in the photo."

Photographer: Kristie Kohn

[naamahdarling]

Oh WOW what a lovely portrait!

[lena-oleanderson]

also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.