floatingbook

[floatingbook]

the Tapestry illustrations: Ella Lee

[floatingbook]

An audience member stopped World Science Festival host Jim Holt from speaking over physics professor Veronika Hubeny

follow @the-future-now

[floatingbook]

Unknown

豆鼠木彫根付

Netsuke of a Rat Grasping a Soybean Pod

Edo period (1615–1868)

[floatingbook]

“Bilingualism strikes me as a kind of synesthesia. Instead of seeing colors associated with letters and words, instead of hearing melodies, what I hear with language is the play and echo of the other language. The option to say it differently, and thus to live it differently. Language is not only a means of communication or description. It’s a framework in which we process existence. Yi writes: “It is hard to feel in an adopted language, yet it is impossible in my native language.” As every bilingual person and translator knows, there are certain words—a feeling, a way of being—that is absent in one language but perfectly brought to life in another. A word that, by existing, gives permission to be. What if you need that which does not exist in your language?”

— Yoojin Grace Wuertz, “Mother Tongue”

[floatingbook]

‘Wild Textiles’ Is a Practical Guide for Turning Foraged Materials into Fiber-Based Works

[floatingbook]

The more I think of myself as just another animal, the better I feel about my body. Yup I have breasts, I'm a sexually mature female human. A caribou does not feel bad that her antlers have grown in. I eat, I am an animal. No other animal on Earth feels shame at the thought of eating besides humans. A mouse does not worry if her face is asymmetrical, a lizard does not attempt to take up less space, a boar does not think about her body hair. Dysphoria can only ever exist within the confines of a human society. Who made you feel so bad you felt the need to self implode? A person? A collective? There's nothing noble or profound about self destruction, even single celled organisms want to live.

[floatingbook]

Unbought and Unbossed by Shirley Chisolm

[floatingbook]

Give me tonight to be inconsolable. so the death drive does not declare

itself, so the moonlight does not convince sunrise. I was born before sunrise—

when morning masquerades as night, the temperature of blood, quivering

like a mouth in mourning. How do we author our gentle birth, the height

we were—were we gods rolling stars across a sundog sky, the same as scarabs?

We fit somewhere between god and mineral, angel and animal,

believing a thing as sacred as the sun rises and falls like an ordinary beast.

Deer sniff lifeless fawns before leaving, elephants encircle the skulls and tusks

of their dead—none wanting to leave the bones behind, none knowing

their leave will lessen the loss. But birds pluck their own feathers, dogs

lick themselves to wound. Allow me this luxury. Give me tonight to cut

and salt the open. Give me a shovel to uproot the mandrake and listen

for its scream. Give me a hard face that toils so closely with stone, it is itself

stone. I promise to enter the flesh again. I promise to circle to ascend.

I promise to be happy tomorrow.

Imagine Sisyphus Happy by Nicole Sealey

[floatingbook]

Gerda Wegener (Danish, 1886-1940)

Mermaids, 1918

[floatingbook]

work in progress ❤️‍🔥

[floatingbook]

I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back, someday, without bitterness, to the wild and weedy dunes.

Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

[floatingbook]

The Infinite Plane: A Glossary, Complete and Unabridged.

Another beady thing for you today.

[floatingbook]

Victorian and edwardian era ladies with their cats

[floatingbook]

Selynn Lee - An Orange Cat Named Persimmon. Acrylic on panel.

[floatingbook]

<<3 gay people are not responsible for your feelings <<3

[floatingbook]

Not to be a drama queen here but I think this black pill thing is a nihilist psyop trying to convince feminists to give up and be complacent, but in the lazy resentful liberal way. You know, like Marxist guys who don’t tip because they don’t believe in the tipping system.

Who cares if you can’t save every woman? Who cares if the fight is longer than your lifetime? Who cares if the odds feel unsurmountable? That’s just how hard the fight is, not a barometer of its worth.

I don’t change the world, but in my work and my personal life I have definitely changed it for some women. Imagine the ripple effect if we all do that.

Selfish and kinda childish behavior to think you have to be the savior for a movement to matter tbh

[floatingbook]

Stephanie Glax - Self-portrait with cigarette (ca. 1908)