io eleutherios

enchantrix. tender-hearted & well-beloved. she who listens, sings, holds, heals. learning to lose her head and embody herself. devotee of Dionysus & Aphrodite. you can also find me at que-serra-sarah

[requiem-on-water]

John Royle

[requiem-on-water]

Wind from the Sea (1947) by Andrew Wyeth

[pnwander]

mama + fawn

[dalals]

Clair de lune (Moonlight). 1889, oil on canvas.

[requiem-on-water]

Robin Isely

[aropride]

"nothing is real atoms never touch each other youve never touched anything in your life" ok. well when i pet my dog he is soft and when he licks my hand it is wet and that is far more real to me than whatevers going on at an atomic level

[aropride]

what my atoms are doing is their fucking business man i'm busy trying to stop my dog from eating tissues directly out of the box

[duckbunny]

nuclei don't touch, but the nucleus is not the core of reality. reality is made of electrons dancing. reality is made of bonds.

you pet your dog and the atoms that are you brush up against the atoms that are him, and the electrons that are you press into the electrons that are him, and both of them change their movement.

electrons of course are not really particles and do not really move.

you pet your dog and the electron-orbitals of your skin overlap with the electron-orbitals of his fur, and both are changed by the contact. you are not made of little motes floating alone in a void. you are a single unfathomable chord formed of a trillion vibrations, and so is he. and the note you play is changing at every moment by what you touch and how you breathe, and so is his. and atoms do not really have edges, and to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate. the song expands to hold you both.

[laughingpokemon]

[rachelillustrates]

and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate. the song expands to hold you both.

[requiem-on-water]

The Dancer (2012) by Amy Stauffer

[noodles-dare]

photo hunting

something from my collection

[milkkoreblog]

[weltenwellen]

Adam Zagajewski, “Try to Praise the Mutilated World”, Without End: New and Selected Poems

[boykeats]

[ID: poem text reading,

“Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships; one of them had a long trip ahead of it, while salty oblivion awaited others. You’ve seen the refugees going nowhere, you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world. Remember the moments when we were together in a white room and the curtain fluttered. Return in thought to the concert where music flared. You gathered acorns in the park in autumn and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars. Praise the mutilated world and the gray feather a thrush lost, and the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns.”

/end ID]

[kafk-a]

https://emergencemagazine.org/essay/navigating-the-mysteries/

[kafk-a]

Nancy Willard, from “Questions My Son Asked Me, Answers I Never Gave Him”

[requiem-on-water]

twopartstudio

[victorianaest]

Undine Rising from the Waters, Chauncey Bradley Ives, 1884

[theillustratedencyclopediao-blog]

[camelidae]

Unlike their unicorn cousins, who tend to prize more modest coat colors and patterns, Kirins don’t mind being a little bit ~*Extra*~

[lemongrace]

- No gods but us.