ughnofreeusernames

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“im microwaving them.” “im revolving them like a rotisserie chicken.” all along the correct metaphor was right there!!

#correct

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#well I am not autistic but still #true things that are true

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Saint George and the Dragon, Gustave Moreau, 1889-90

#it's stabbing time #art #dates #St. George's Day

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A Squirmle and her young.

#beautiful #art

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Music fandoms are so funny to me. Oh, you like listening to the funky sounds? Now get ready for the lord.

#The Lord comes whether you are ready for Him or not lol #music

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overwatch is a silly piece of shit on its best days but its continued insistence that magic is real but only in japan is especially hysterical

#nerd #video games #overwatch

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I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.

#dates #Earth Day

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i read Genesis 32 today and how do I even interpret the whole passage about Moses saying he'd rather be erased from the Book of Life than see the people perish (Paul in one of the epistles says a similar statement)

as somebody whose biggest fear is the loss of salvation/ loss of soul, such passages are extremely disturbing and troubling to me, because they are framed as Moses and Paul being exceedingly selfless, to the point they'd trade their own soul in order to save other people (who are stubborn in sin anyways and likely couldn't even care less for such a sacrifice anyway???)

like should I as a regular Christian (not a huge religious figure like Moses or Paul) feel selfish for not being able to love any other person that much that I'd be able to say I could accept being erased from the book of life if they somehow get written in??? like if it was possible for any human being to risk me losing my soul, im sorry to say but i would just abandon them or not love them anymore

maybe it's silly to even think about this passage at all, since it's probably just hyperbole anyway?

#Christianity

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(inspired by this one for the sake of full transparency)

#domestication is very tempting #but probably either ingredients or clutter #which one I would prefer would probably depend on the day #but overall I think instant declutter would be best #the name game

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A tiefling rogue, or a thiefling, if you will,

#puns

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these photos send me over the edge every time, they really had no idea what vibe they were going for:

recently married pastor and first lady? teacher couple working in waterloo road?

or frasier crane's new best friends? carrie bradshaw's frenemy (meta) and mr big's worst nightmare? earth two olivia pope and fitzgerald grant???

Edit:

I raise you...Me and Mrs Jones. They got a thinnnnnng. Going awn.

#doctor who

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Do any of u have decent recipes that are like 5 ingredients (not including spices) and take 45 mins or less to prepare i gotta stop eating sandwiches for dinner

#food #recipes

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"Hey, hold this for a minute?"

*Bestows upon you power as akin to that of a god*

Thanks!

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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

#history

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My bf studied japanese in high school and often says "gambate!" (not sure of spelling) to be like. encouraging. I think it means roughly "let's get this bread." However, as someone who took spanish in high school, it always sounds like a command to me. And as near as I can tell, in spanish it would mean "go shrimp yourself."

#linguistics #shrimp

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It took a while to find, and it’s not the best quality, but I was able to track down at the very least the opening credit sequence to Goncharov

#video #meme #goncharov

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Tudor-esque dress, 1890. House of Worth

#costumes