all of what they have been saying for years now is true: you don’t know how grief feels until you can hold it, and when you’re holding it it’s crushing you and you say “wow this is heavier than i thought” and you try to convey this but no one around you can see grief so it just looks like you’re crumpling under your own weight and you say “i don’t want to endure this” but you really have no choice
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seeing you in every moment, is that what grief is?
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David Hockney (1937), Pretty Tulips, 1970
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a pity she does not exist a shame he's not a fag...
Andrew in Drag - The Magnetic Fields
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a pity she does not exist a shame he's not a fag...
Andrew in Drag - The Magnetic Fields
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a pity she does not exist, a shame he's not a fag
the only girl I've ever loved was andrew in drag
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I hope he knows that hes my muse
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observation on the train
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ph. Danko Maksimovic - Madrid, Spain (2023)
Film: Kodak Ultramax 400
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beautiful women named library hold ready keep messaging me
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This is a part of a bigger quilt I’m making, but the stained glass effect was so pretty that I taped it up for a while so I could enjoy the light ✨
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finished print :)
digital render of a screenprint I'm working on about trauma
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two of a few prints created about personal ecojustice actions mainly in the spirit of solarpunk <3
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