#Her kind

[derangedrhythms]

Anne Sexton, To Bedlam and Part Way Back; from ‘Her Kind’

#anne sexton #to bedlam and part way back #her kind #poetry #excerpts #witch

[apoemaday]

Her Kind

by Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.

#poetry #anne sexton #her kind

[elizabethanism]

Anne Sexton, "Her Kind"

I have gone out, a possessed witch,

haunting the black air, braver at night;

dreaming evil, I have done my hitch

over the plain houses, light by light:

lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.

A woman like that is not a woman, quite.

I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,

filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,

closets, silks, innumerable goods;

fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:

whining, rearranging the disaligned.

A woman like that is misunderstood.

I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,

waved my nude arms at villages going by,

learning the last bright routes, survivor

where your flames still bite my thigh

and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.

A woman like that is not ashamed to die.

I have been her kind.

#Anne Sexton #her kind #witch #Halloween #read more #Read more women

[revmeg]

...even eclipsed,       half full, halfway, you are not a fraction.       Nothing is ever missing. You are not a part, a slice,        hangnail, silver, morsel, crescent, quarter, waning,         or halfhearted.  You are sum,        whole, all there--

from “Dear Moon” in Her Kind: Poems by Cindy Veach, p. 13

#Her Kind #Cindy Veach #poetry #lit #moon

[thatsbutterbaby]

Agger, Knud (1895-1973) - Kvinneakt   x

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Her Kind

by Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.

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source apoemaday

(via darkbloomiana)

#Agger Knud #Kvinneakt #Anne Sexton #Her Kind #words

[lilidawnonthemoon]

#anne sexton #her kind #poetry #poem #1960 #women #women in literature

[xbelledelune]

Her Kind, Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.

#anne sexton #to bedlam and part way back #her kind #poem #motm #Alfred Joseph Woolmer #painting

[outstanding-quotes]

A woman like that is not ashamed to die.

I have been her kind.

Anne Sexton, Her Kind

#anne sexton #her kind #poetry #quote #literature #lit #womanhood #shame #death

[nancy-laura-spungen]

#anne sexton #her kind #poetry #confessional poetry #anne sexton and her kind #jazz #1969

[astearisms]

catalysts, protectors

#man those episodes #so many things put into perspective #like Simon’s role as a protector and his kindness and empathy and compassion and existence being the catalyst for the rest of ooo to #flourish #and Betty is a protector of Simon #I wonder if the last two episodes will explore more of her character? there’s so much to be explored about her giving so much of herself #to Simon but not thinking about what she wants for herself #do we get to explore her feelings or see her at all? will she have changed or learned to let go #I think there will be some sort of closure for the both of them #but at what cost #I am still crying over that scene with Simon’s memory of Betty and their song #my art #fionna and cake #fionna and cake spoilers #simon petrikov #betty grof #petrigrof #golbetty

[emilyvberry]

#anne sexton #all my pretty ones #her kind #backlisted #podcast #emily berry #poetry #poets #poems

[elizabethanism]

“A woman like that is not ashamed to die. / I have been her kind.”

Her kind poem

Anne Sexton

#Anne Sexton #Her kind #Witch

[ssalballoon]

Mystra showed him the secrets beneath the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. 'Chosen One' she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

poor gale :'(

- the dialogue is from ea gale's explanation about his folly

- i kinda like that she ended up looking like a mother-of-pearl inlay lacquerware!

- oh this was a subconscious choice, but Gale is sitting in seiza which is a posture for showing respect especially to elders. it's also known to be a painful position to sit in for extended periods of time, which is why it was sometimes used as a method of (morally dubious) punishment. however, experienced people can maintain this posture for much longer. food for thought :-)

- (edit: deleted this point bcs it didn't really make sense + detracted from the art a little;;)

#also had other companion drawings w gale and mystra planned for this but none of them are complete... perhaps another day #mystra #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanart #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #my art #hm i dont have many opportunities to share my mystra thoughts so! #mystra is incredibly difficult to redesign and draw! I want to give her a fantastical element to her while retaining her austere aloofness #(her unassuming design is actually surprisingly effective in making her seem so effortlessly powerful) #I love spiderweb imagery and braids(weave) for her but braids make her seem so... kind? very soft? i'll try again another day... #is this seriously my last post of 2023. goddamn

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded psychopath happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

#seeing some discourse and im not saying lucy grey didnt know #im saying she never dropped the kind of hints that she knew like she did in the movie #or if she did snow isnt worried about them until he very suddenly is consumed by them #snow is not concerned about whether or not she believed him. of course she did! hes snow! #but then shes gone…. for a while…… #and its the sudden immediate drastic unravelling that comes across so clearly in the book #that i knew wouldn’t translate to screen yet still cant help but miss #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas #lucy gray baird #not a crime or anything just a note that i cannot stop thinking about #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #this is all from memory of reading it quite a while ago. so maybe 3 pages is an exaggeration #but i remember it happening VERY quickly and without much external cause #like we as the reader have no indication as to whether shes nearby or not. #snow has no idea either. he just SUSPECTS. and his suspicion breeds the hatred that has been bubbling inside him all this time #he hates how she undoes him. he hates that he WOULD run away with her if shed let him keep his secrets #and he HATES more than anything that she makes him WANT to tell his secrets #he wants to be vulnerable and reveal the ugly nasty parts about himself and still be loved #but he does not let himself and it is everyone’s downfall #he chooses cruelty bc it is easy and familiar and makes him feel more powerful than the vulnerable give and take that real love requires

[liimonadas]

randomly rememebered a very silly maya content creator AU i came up with like 2 years ago. its just dumb fun haha

#this is kind of an extension of my hc/au of having the aa cast be people who grew up in the early 2010s (social media users) #in this au maya is a prolific steel samurai extended universe fandom member and starts making videos in like 2018-2019 #edgeworth also posts online anonymously but it takes him yearsss to show his face online #getting a segment in her massive video essay compels him tho #yea im just rambling abt my goofy ideas atp if you wanna know more i can share #maya fey #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #ace attorney #fanart #art

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.