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#Red bird
romarisea · 6 months
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Mary Oliver, from “Summer Morning.” [ID in alt text]
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flowerytale · 1 year
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Mary Oliver, from "We Should Be Well Prepared", Red Bird
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kaalbela · 8 months
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- Mary Oliver⁩, "Invitation".
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hauntedbystorytelling · 5 months
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Gertrude Käsebier :: Zitkala Sa, Sioux Indian and activist, ca. 1898 | src NMAH
view more Zitkala-sa by Käsebier on wordPress
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steinntroll · 4 months
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Phoenix fantasy art doll
Sold
Resin, fabric fur, wire+plastic armature, feathers, primer, acrylic paint, varnish. Posable neck has plastic ball-and-socket armature inside and can be posed. Tail and wings are also posable and contain wire armature inside.
Size: 100 cm total length from beak to tip of tail
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franollie · 2 months
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would you believe me if i told you i go to art school
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petaltexturedskies · 6 months
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Mary Oliver, from “Red Bird”
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oliviarosaline · 2 months
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Northern Cardinal
Cardinalis cardinalis
Male
Shining in all his glory.
March 17th, 2024
Jefferson County, Missouri, USA
Olivia R. Myers
@oliviarosaline
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maxyvert · 4 months
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🐦 Bird Prince, 2019 🐦 Reposting an older drawing bc I still like it :)
Ko-fi - Inprnt - Patreon  
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brooklynbridgebirds · 2 months
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Northern Cardinal Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 6
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godsopenwound · 1 year
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Mary Oliver, “Invitation” from Red Bird
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barbieaemond · 5 months
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Red Bird (masterlist)
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Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Alysanne Hightower oc, Daeron Targaryen x Alysanne Hightower (minor)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, incest (cousins), childhood trauma, darkish aemond, asoiaf typical misoginy and sexism, canon divergence, toxic dynamics, possessive behaviour, smut, religious kink, a bit of green propaganda, Aemond is a petty bitch through the whole thing.
Author's note: we're back :) the old chapters will be reposted within this week. For the newbies, sneak peak under the cut.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
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Alysanne opened the door to Prince Aemond’s chambers like she owned them. She didn’t knock. She stormed into them and stopped in the center, breathing fire at him. "I want my books back."
Prince Aemond sat lazily on a chair next to the hearth, with his long legs crossed and resting on a long chaise, filled with books, her books.
He looked up from the book he was reading, also one of hers, and looked at her from head to toe.
"Is that an order?" he asked with the hint of a smirk, like a cat rolling in the sun.
"You had no right—"
"On the contrary." he closed the book with a thud and sighed "You see, everything in this castle belongs to me. Your books, your dress, even the air you breathe."
"That is strange. Last time I checked, Viserys, not Aemond, was the King of Westeros."
She spoke his name for the first time, and his blood sang. He shushed it, sighing loudly, and put her book aside, resting his arms on the armchair.
"Close the door. I know you love scenes, but I’m not in the mood for an audience today."
Her lips formed a tight line, just as tight as the way she was clenching her fists.
"You want your books back? Close the door."
After an endless time in which they just stared at each other, she moved and closed the door.
Submit and play nice.
"Good." he crooned "It seems even a stubborn thing like you can be domesticated. Now, sit."
She swallowed patiently, closing her eyes for a moment, and then she looked around. But there was no surface on which she could sit, unless she was stupid enough to sit on his bed. "Where?" she asked him with genuine doubt.
He moved his hand and patted his thigh as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Alysanne gave him a puzzled look, drowning in utter disbelief.
"I won’t eat you. And I won’t take you against your will. I have no taste for such twisted depravities."
Submit and play nice. Submit and play nice.
She already had half a mind of what to write to her father as soon as she was out of that room.
She moved closer and slowly, as if he had asked her to pet a snake, and cautiously sat on his knees, on its ends, trying not to leave all her weight on him. But Aemond bent his knees in a swift move, and she slid directly into his lap.
Her mouth went dry and she was sure she was blushing, again. She refused to look at him, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw his white fingers tapping lazily on the armchair. She felt his eye running slowly over her and tasted ash down her throat.
"I see that you’re persistent in your change of colors."
"Is pink not to his Grace's liking?"
"No. Green suits you better."
"Well, I like to look into the mirror once in a while and remind myself that I’m not something that goes on a plate next to a piece of meat."
She heard him huffing the air through his nose, and she turned to look at him, almost baffled. He was laughing.
"You know what would please me? To see you in blue."
Sapphire blue? She wondered, but didn’t dare say it. She looked away and said "Unfortunately I don’t live to please you."
"Hmm. Who then? My brother?"
"One day, yes."
"Did you let him?"
"Did I let him what?"
"Taste you."
She turned her head and grimaced, hard. "Unlike you, Daeron is a decent man."
"I am decent. If I were not, I would’ve taken you in the Grand Sept, with or without your consent. But I don’t need to stoop so low." he leaned away from the backrest and came dangerously close, digging his fingertips on the armchair fabric to restrain himself. "You will come to me willingly. Actually, you will beg me for it."
Alysanne recoiled, trying to put some distance, to not choke on ashes. "What makes you so sure?"
"A few things. But most of all, the fact that you are closing your legs since the moment you sat on my lap."
Then it all happened in a blur. She stood up hastily, and in the same moment the door opened, revealing the baffled figure of Queen Alicent, stunned on the threshold.
Alysanne went pale as a sheet, as did the Queen.
"What is the meaning of this?" 
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birdhism · 1 year
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rains-of-words · 10 months
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and also I am the leaves and the blossoms, and, like them, I am full of delight, and shaking.
Mary Oliver, Red Bird
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jswaltherphotos · 14 days
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diioonysus · 1 year
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zitkala-sa or red bird (1876-1938) was was a yankton dakota writer, editor, translator, musician, educator, and political activist. her later books were among the first works to bring traditional native american stories to a widespread white english-speaking readership. she was co-founder of the national coouncil of american indians in 1926, which was established to lobby for native people's right to united states citizenship and other civil rights they had long been denied. when she was a child, she was taken to white's indiana manual labor Institute, a quaker missionary boarding school in wabash, indiana. this training school was founded by josiah white for the education of "poor children, white, colored, and indian to help them advance in society.” she wrote about this in one of her books describing the misery of having her hertiage stripped from her and being forced to cut her hair.
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