kydrasaur - Tumblr blog

[kydrasaur]

what are your hobbies?

I have a garden that I love to work in every day.

During the lockdowns, I learned the difference between having a garden, and tending a garden. It turns out that I just love to tend my garden. I love to walk in it, smell all the smells, prune it and tie it up where it needs it, keep the soil healthy, and leave it alone when I've done enough.

In a lot of ways, I use my gardening time as a metaphor. One that was particularly meaningful to me lately came when I was pruning this feral tomato that showed up in one of my beds late last year. As a general rule, when I get any volunteers, I leave them alone, except to keep them away from things I've planted myself. But in this case, it was growing so fast and getting so out of control, I had to rein it in a bit, with some pruning and gentle redirection of the parts which were tied to the trellis.

I started thinking about the individual stalks as parts of my life experience: here's one that doesn't have anything growing on it, but if I follow it all the way to this point, I can see that it's providing support and nutrients to this huge, thriving, massively flowering hunk of the plant. It turns out that part may look like it isn't doing anything, but without it, this other part that's gorgeous wouldn't exist.

I could have just looked at it and seen a stalk that wasn't doing anything. I could have easily pruned it right then and there, and only after would I have discovered this lush, thriving, beautiful part of the plant that can't exist without this other part. I was so grateful that I took the time to look at the whole thing, to see that bare stem in context, to appreciate it.

I don't know if this particular metaphor lands on you, but it landed real hard on me. It inspired a wonderful moment of reflection and gratitude, and I also got excited for the ... I mean, it's at least a dozen, but maybe more ... little cherry tomatoes I'm going to get when they finish ripening.

I have recently noticed that, as long as I can remember, I have felt like I can't slow down, like I can't take time for myself, that I should always be working or trying to work. I've been working on healing as much of my CPTSD as I can, and part of that includes doing my best to give myself permission to slow down, to take entire days or even weeks off, because I have earned it. It's such a struggle for me.

And that's where my garden is a metaphor again: it may not be full of blooming flowers or tons of vegetables right now, but that doesn't mean it isn't growing. Maybe it needs to be watered and fed today, and tomorrow, I can just walk through it, and enjoy it.

It's one of my very few hobbies that are mostly private, that I keep for myself. I freely and enthusiastically share my love for classic arcade gaming, Tabletop and RPG games, and all my super nerd shit, so I like that I have this one thing that's just for me.

[kydrasaur]

A Garden Witch’s Parable

There once was a garden. It was not large and it was not extravagant, but it was green and strong and beautiful. It yielded herbs and vegetables. Though small, it fed the stomach and the heart of the gardener who tended it.

One day, a plague of mites came upon the garden. The infestation spread quickly. The green leaves withered, the proud stalks bent and fell, and in one fell swoop, the garden was nearly destroyed.

The gardener saw this and lamented. So much hard work wasted, so many lovely plants wilted. When the weeding and disposal work was done and the mites were finally eradicated, nearly the entire garden was gone. Only a few plants remained.

For days, the gardener sat and looked at the ravaged garden. The sight of so many empty pots and so much emptiness where there had been greenery and beauty was saddening. The gardener wondered if it was worth trying again so late in the season, if perhaps there was no point.

Then, one fine day, the sun came out and shone on one of the last remaining plants. It was a chili pepper plant which had somehow survived the mites mostly unharmed. The light glowed on the few healthy green leaves left in the garden. Despite everything, the plant was still tall and strong and showed signs of bearing fruit. 

The gardener saw this and thought, “Surely if there is one plant, there might one day be more. Surely if this one plant survived, all is not lost.” And so, the gardener got to work. Soil was turned, weeds were cleared, and new seeds were planted.

The gardener sat back and surveyed the scene. There was no new greenery yet. The new seeds would take time to grow. But where before there was fallow dirt and emptiness, the gardener now saw the potential of what could be.

The most important thing is not a lack of failure. It is a refusal to give up. 🌿

- Bree NicGarran

[kydrasaur]

the whole set together!✨ i'll be making tiny prints of these to give out at the nyc show this tuesday!

[kydrasaur]

Is this your idol?

[kydrasaur]

✨the stars are the same as ever✨

[kydrasaur]

make the world a little more f*cking weird @falloutboy

[kydrasaur]

grief seed

[kydrasaur]

[kydrasaur]

we should talk more about cities that are vampires. cities that are cold and wet and sink into your bones and stay there. cities that are hungry and want to live. dead cities that dont know they're dead and suck the life force of their people to maintain the delusion. cities with harbors that are actually mouths; one-way entries. cities that are devastatingly lonely and see consumption as love

[kydrasaur]

why did no one tell me quantum computers looked like that

[kydrasaur]

[kydrasaur]

Façades

[kydrasaur]

[kydrasaur]

Brendan Fitzpatrick “Self Portrait In Sharp Relief”, 2020 Oil on linen, 50 x 50cm

[kydrasaur]

[kydrasaur]

…..What great births you have witnessed! The steam press, the steamship, the steel ship, the railroad, the perfected cotton-gin, the telegraph, the telephone, the phonograph, the photograph, photo-gravure, the electrotype, the gaslight, the electric light, the sewing machine, & the amazing, infinitely varied & innumerable products of coal tar, those latest & strangest marvels of a marvelous age. And you have seen even greater births than these; for you have seen the application of anæsthesia to surgery-practice, whereby the ancient dominion of pain, which began with the first created life, came to an end in this earth forever; you have seen the slave set free, you have seen monarchy banished from France, & reduced in England to a machine which makes an imposing show of diligence & attention to business, but isn't connected with the works. Yes, you have indeed seen much—but tarry yet a while, for the greatest is yet to come.

Letter from Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) to Walt Whitman, 24 May 1889 on the occasion of Whitman’s birthday. (The entire letter is 8 pages).