Old and tired and queer, just really fuckin queer.
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."
- Mary Oliver
Plush Bird from the Altai Mountains of Siberia, c. 400-300 BC.
This plush bird, approximately 2,300 years old, originates from the Altai Mountains in Siberia. Crafted during the early Iron Age, the artifact is constructed from felt and reindeer fur. The bird's form, including its wings and beak, was carefully shaped using stitched felt. The use of reindeer fur as stuffing has allowed the piece to retain its original shape and structure, which remains well-preserved despite its considerable age.
everyone knows that space is very very cold, and the sun is very very hot. so i assume there's a bit of space kind of near the sun which is just right. balmy space
"IS THIS THE DEATH OF ART?" Well art has died before. Art died in both the 1980s and 1940s. Art died in the industrial revolution. Art died when they invented the printing press. Art died when we stopped painting on cave walls. Art died when you, personally, stopped finger painting. You can absolutely be a hater though that's part of it
i fucking hate being an adult with a slowly increasing number of responsibilities its like one day you wake up and youre like aw fuck when was the last time i descaled the coffee machine