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#but it rarely happens
ato-dato · 9 months
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Aziraphale please! He’s been through enough!!!
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inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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hayden-christensen · 3 months
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HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN During his panel at Megacon Orlando | February 3, 2024
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majunju · 9 months
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egg
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biceratops7 · 10 months
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*bracing myself on my knees and trying to breath, nursing a cramp*
I got here as fast as I can. I just wanted to point out that THIS…
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Is one of the gayest fucking lines of television I’ve heard in my life.
Even if the presence of the song itself somehow wasn’t a flashing spotlight enough, the literal voice of God directly draws attention to it. Telling us that in universe, a nightingale really is in fact singing in Barkley square, and to know its music is sweet regardless of if we can hear it. Just like there are really in fact angels (one fallen but we’ll let it slide) dining at the ritz, and they’ve been falling in love regardless of if they’ve been allowed to openly pursue that feeling.
And hell, maybe it’s BECAUSE of the traffic that the nightingale finally sings. Perhaps it wasn’t ready until it was sure no one else could listen.
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zurka-durka · 2 months
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phoenixcatch7 · 7 months
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Lmao I'd love to see a fic where batman like. Doesn't talk at all. He just 'hn' and 'hrm's his way through the story like a Minecraft villager. All the bat kids understand him perfectly.
I actually know people irl who can do this, and I've done it myself during bad migraines, it's practically a second language, so I know it's totally possible to have full conversations between two speakers XD!
It'd be another degree of separation between Brucie Wayne, the ditzy, breathy playboy and batman, who used up all his vocal spoons for the day and now communicates solely through unintelligible grunts and sharp hand gestures when he doesn't need to talk to strangers.
Unfortunately, the best way to learn grunt speak is the same way most languages are learned, and there's no written word (outside of emoji, of course): immersion. And the justice league are no longer considered strangers.
This leads to:
Hal: which way do we go, spooky? Where's the tracker pointing?
B: *grunt*
Hal: what?
B: *insistent grunt*
Hal:..... Can we point?
B: *dour look* *slowly raises arm to point left down the street* *sharp, insistent grunt*
Hal, dryly: don't strain yourself.
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Damian: greyson. I am calling because father has had an injury and is bed bound for tonight, however Alfred is downstairs and the rest are still on patrol. I am still in the early stages of learning father's intonations. Please translate.
Nightwing, eldest, regularly called for exactly this reason by just about everyone Bruce has ever spoken with since he was a kid, ranging from arkham guards to jl members: *heavy sigh* put him on.
Bruce: hrng...
Nightwing: He's telling you to close the curtains and keep the noise down, he's got a headache.
Damian, over the sound of footsteps and fabric rustling: it truly is just like another language.
N: nah, it's a lot of probability. I've known b for years, I can guess pretty well. There's a lot we can say. For example, that grunt actually carried a lot more meaning, I just trimmed it down.
Damian: truly?
N: yup! If I had to be pedantic, it actually meant 'I am in quite a lot of discomfort, the cause of which is my head, and I am struggling to manage it on my own. Please aid in my cause, my darling sons whom I love dearly -'
Damian: *muffled noise through the phone*
N: that'll be him telling us to shut up. But you can see why I asked you to close the curtains.
Damian: fascinating. I shall take this under advisement.
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B, exhausted after a long day of board meetings as Brucie: *moody silence*
Gordon: Batman, how's it going?
B: *glower* *drawn out grunt*
Gordon: that bad, huh?
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Supes, during a briefing: I believe it would be best if we attacked from the north, we've enough flying members to crest the mountains and ambush then that way - Batman?
B: *quiet grumble, with pointer fingers moving in semicircles*
Supes: ah, I see. You're right, we'd be too visible if the sun rose behind them*turns to see the other members standing behind him* what?
Flash, bowing at the waist, palms together over his head: teach me your ways, oh mighty bat-speaker.
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Sally is the real neighborhood Rizzler... you all know i'm right...
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aegisofworms · 1 month
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DREAM-OF-TEETH, a mech made from the hollowed-out corpse of one of the old gods, has killed each one of its previous pilots. You are the "lucky" 13th to try, a pit-fighter made a porcelain. Together, they will break the world before it breaks them. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
This started as one part of a larger zine wip I wanted to share but I went a little overboard with the presentation haha. Said wip below: (Currently working on making headway on another project so it'll be a bit before I finish this up but I like the layout so far!)
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wild-neko · 15 days
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me when i see another queer person in a mask
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daddiesdrarryy · 8 months
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Remus: What—what the hell is this? Did you…with Reg? Regulus? Fuck!
James: Moony! Breathe!
Remus: Don’t you tell me what to do, Prongs. How long has this been going on?
James: Since New Year’s.
Remus: Oh, Merlin! And who knows about this?
James: Literally no one but you. And Peter.
Regulus: And Barty and Evan.
James: Right, and Lily.
Regulus: Oh, and I told Pandora.
James: Aw, I didn’t know that.
Regulus: Yeah, she was really happy for us.
James: Oh, I can’t wait to see her again. She’s really—
Remus: Okay! Shut up, okay? The both of you! I need to think.
James: Please don���t tell Pads!
Remus: Seriously?
James: I haven’t told him yet!
Remus: Oh, gee, James! I’m sorry to interrupt your process of you fondling with Sirius’s dearest brother, but you’re the one who decided to put your dick into the only heir left of the Black family!
Regulus: Technically, if my parents find out I slept with James, I’d be disowned anyway—
Remus: Not talking to you, Reg!
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papertowness · 2 months
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i cannot stop thinking about when cameron told foreman she and chase had sex and foreman was like “ house would do wilson before you would do chase . “ and cameron was like “ no , you would do house and wilson before i would do chase “ girl what did you mean . what did you mean .
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Okay but Gojo raised two children at 17/18 alone with like zero experience on how to be a good parent while he was training to become the strongest and shortly after loosing his best friend who had also been the one he had been in love with in one of the most horrendous and cruel ways possible all while keeping up an incredibly cheerful and carefree personality.
You can't tell me that this man wasn't emotionally, mentally and probably also physically exhausted during that time.
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finelythreadedsky · 4 months
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i've been reading a lot about fundamental differences between homer and tragedy and one interesting thing is the preoccupation of tragedy with the conflicts of women's loyalties to their natal and marital families, which manifests in so many tragedies putting women in situations where they are forced to choose sides in conflicts between their husbands/fathers/brothers/sons (eg medea chooses her husband over her father and brother, antigone chooses her brother over her future husband and potential children, procne chooses her sister and father over her husband and son, creusa remains dedicated to her father and his lineage instead of her husband and his). women are supposed to forge chains between men by their marriages and tragedies are so often interested in what happens to those connecting links when things go sour.
and that's just totally absent in homer, there's never any tension between icarius and odysseus or between eetion and the house of priam or between autolycus and laertes or between tyndareus and either paris or menelaus and agamemnon. most of the time either father-in-law or son-in-law is totally absent from the narrative. there's nothing that would put a woman in the position of mediating between the family she was born into and the family she married into.
but you know who in homer does experience this tension between loyalty to natal and marital families? hector. in iliad 6 andromache begs him to adopt a more defensive strategy because she and their son will be totally lost if he dies, and hector speaks of having to fight for his father's glory and his own. andromache and astyanax will suffer if hector dies well and bravely fighting for a lost cause, but priam will benefit. hector even acknowledges that after troy's fall it will be andromache who suffers most, not priam or hecuba-- for them the memory of hector's glory will be a consolation, while for her it will only be more pain. hector is torn between his father and his wife, the family he was born into and the family he has created through marriage.
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zaacoy · 1 year
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traffic light trio posting!! heeheehoo
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Inspired by this tweet!!!: :D!!
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sergle · 6 months
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I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon
#there is actually nothing morally wrong with running an account that just reuploads ppl's artwork or their jokes or their cosplays#if you just put a VISIBLE LINK in the description of your post with proper credit then it would be beneficial for everyone#because you can get your little clout or whatever it is you want by putting a bunch of same-category content on a page#but nobody's getting fucked over because if your post blows up then people just get FUNNELED to the source#because it's placed so plainly where everyone can see it#and yeah it's better to retweet or reblog but#on the rare occasion that I see my shit reuploaded on tumblr WHICH IS WEIRD BC I MAKE MY OWN POSTS HERE but anyway#someone making their own post where they upload my stuff. and it's always the floral self portraits so let's say it's a post with all those#if I scroll to the bottom and it says like. Artwork by Serglesinner on Twitter <-- clickable link [Sergle's Prints] <-- clickable link#to my etsy#I'm like oh okay and all the anger leaves my body and I'm like ah I see. and I toss the rock aside#like oh okay so you actually care that a person made these pieces. Instead of posting the caption ''women <3'' or smth#like you've GOTTA die if you do that. but if you just link back#or if you go to the effort of writing like a description with a BLURB? like it's a damn museum. like a light paragraph of info#about what the art is and who made it and their links#I am literally sucking you in a strange and peculiar manner. that is extremely helpful#and maybe other artists don't want this AT ALL and they'd rather people not reupload even if it is credited#but I feeeeeeeeel. like 99% of the time this would solve the issue#reposters could genuinely be helping ppl. sometimes the repost gets more traction than the real thing#as long as it credits the creator then that's an okay thing to happen!#that can land somebody a sale! a commission order! a new fan! A JOB#A JOB!!!!!!!!!!#sergle.txt#I didn't write this eloquently AT ALL what the fuck ever barkbarkbarkbark
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