#Abramowicz

[polish-art-tournament]

paintings* round 1 poll 57

Chicken War (Wojna kokosza) by Henryk Rodakowski, 1872:

propaganda: I am not polish, and my knowledge of polish history is spotty, so the title made me really curious: chicken war? that sounds interesting! what could that be? [answer from wikipedia: the colloquial name for a 1537 anti-royalist and anti-absolutist rokosz (rebellion) by the lower and middle Polish nobility.]

Elisabeth Habsburg receiving the legates of her father Ferdinand Habsburg by Bronisław Abramowicz, 1883

propaganda: do you see the tiny tiny dog? Its sooo tiny.

[random-brushstrokes]

Bronisław Abramowicz - Feast at Wierzynek's (1876)

[real-reulbbr-band]

"who lifts you in your production? Is it Alonzo?" “Tumble from this. with my boyfriend.”

(The Wrong cat died - Episode 124) “Jean Michelle Sayeg “Victoria” CATS: US national tour five"

Timestamp: 20:40

[oldsardens]

Bronislaw Abramowicz - Portret Mlodej Kobiety. 1879

[travelbinge]

By Kuba Abramowicz

Kaneo, Ohrid, Macedonia

[chicago-geniza]

Turning 30 very soon and thinking about the future and transition and such and the tl;dr is avoid Brain Jail but mostly I am thinking about how dad (1951-2010)'s obituary says "He received a BA from Harvard in 1972, a master's from Yale and a JD from Cornell" as an opening salvo, is curt about his accomplishments and coy about his lack of relationships, and dad's brother, who was not given up for closed adoption at birth despite similarly difficult poverty/immigration circumstances and similar developmental disabilities that run very strongly in our family, lived from 1947-2019 and his obituary opens "Terry will be remembered as a happy person that everybody loved." My views on LEGAL family abolition are very strident and my views on the immediate post-WWII period and how the US exploited immigrants through the adoption system and how this was reduplicated in the 70s-90s in Korea, Vietnam, and VERY CRITICALLY, the uhhh Asian border regions of Russia in the 90s, and how I see it in almost everyone I grew up with make me so insane I don't know what to do

Like you cannot talk about family abolition without talking about international and critically TRANSRACIAL adoption without talking about Christian missionaries without talking about the criteria for diagnosing genetic disease without talking about CLOSED adoption without talking about the history of the birth certificate and the passport without talking about the eugenic history of the medical profession without talking about [I am Gong Show'd off the stage]

[defiant-art]

dr. abramowicz be upon ye

[facesofcinema]

The Thing (2011)

[strawberry-selfships]

new f/o bc im normal

his ✌️ its so cute hes so cuuuteeeee

[theonlyadawong]

Chicago

Directed and Chroeographed by Marc Robin

Fulton Theatre, 2019

(Photos by Kinective)

[krautjunker]

Florian, der Karpfen

Buchvorstellung Beim Schlendern durch ein Buchgeschäft sprang mir ein in jadegrünes Leinen gebundenes Büchlein mit silbernen Lettern und einer zauberhaften Fischzeichnung ins Auge. Bildquelle: Büchergilde Gutenberg Siegfried Lenz, einer der bedeutendsten Nachkriegsschriftsteller, der in seiner masurischen Heimat Schwimmen und Angeln vor dem Lesen lernte und im Zweiten Weltkrieg bei der…

[simena]

Leon Abramowicz

[jungle-angel]

Family Ties Are Stronger Than Time (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You're supposed to beon bedrest for a bit after just having had the boys so Rhett decides to take Amy with him to visit an old friend and learns something about a family member that shocks him

Notes: A very, very Happy Hannukah to all who celebrate, I feel bad I haven't done much but this has been sitting in the back of my brain for a while. I hope it came out well enough, I was nervous writing it but I'm hoping it came out well enough 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Warnings: Mentions of war, birth etc.

"Alright sweetheart," Rhett said to Amy. "You ready?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed excitedly.

She hopped down the steps of the general store you both owned with Rhett helping her down onto the snowy sidewalk and into the truck where he buckled her into her carseat. He placed the blue and gold box full of baked goods next to her, hoping that they wouldn't spill over on the ride out of town. He and Cecelia had painstakingly made them for three days, hoping that they turned out alright.

Down the roads they went, out of downtown and back to the more rural areas in town where ranches became a more common sight than buildings. They passed by the Waldorf school where Amy and Hannah both attended kindergarten and preschool respectively, the grounds now covered with snow and the farm across the street with it. Rhett had to laugh a little as he had lost count of how many times he had gone to the farm across from the school to help fix a tractor or help the farmers with their cows.

Finally, they came to a lonely little stretch of ranch, the old farmhouse sitting on top of a little hill with stretch after stretch of fence surrounding it. He pulled up to the garage and parked the truck, letting Amy out and taking the box with him.

"Go ahead Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "Go ring the doorbell."

Amy rang the little bell next to the door and in a split second it was opened by an elderly woman with white hair, her eyes lighting up when she saw Rhett and Amy.

"My sweet I didn't think you were coming!" she exclaimed happily.

"What, Sara? Ya'll thought we were gonna ignore ya'll?" Rhett chuckled.

"You.....you, you get in here, come, come in," Sara beckoned.

Rhett and Amy both went into the house and removed their coats and shoes. "Elie around at all?" Rhett asked.

"No, no, he went to go help Officer Joy or something," Sara told him. "Here, I'll fix you both something."

Rhett loved coming down to visit Sara. Ever since he was a little kid, he loved the way the elderly Polish woman made him feel welcome in her home and had even taught him a little bit of her language. Sara and Elie Abramowicz were as close with the Abbotts as the Duttons were, more like family than friends.

"Where is (y/n)?" Sara asked.

"She's all holed up in bed," Rhett chuckled. "Boys were born two days ago."

"Ah and on the first night of Hannukah no less," Sara said with pride.

"Oh, speaking of which," Rhett said, seating himself on the old, rickety barstool at the kitchen counter. "Made these a few days ago."

He gave Sara the box and when she opened it, her face lit up. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Rhett laughed before he and Sara hugged. "Didn't burn the kitchen down makin'em either," he laughed.

"Oh Rhett," Sara sighed. "You know I haven't been able to make sufganiyot since Mama passed away. Thank you. As if Elie and I didn't owe your family enough already."

"Sara what the hell are ya'll even talkin about?" Rhett asked her. "You don't owe us nothin."

"Oh but we do," Sara insisted. "And it all goes back to your Oma."

"My grandma?" Rhett asked.

Sara nodded.

"Wh.....what'd Oma Heidi have to do with anything?"

Sara scrunched her deeply wrinkled brow. "You mean to tell me that your Papa never told you?" she asked him.

Rhett shook his head.

"Here," Sara said, putting the box of fresh sufganiyot next to the toaster. "You stay and I tell you."

Rhett stayed put, keeping a careful watch on Amy who was in the living room playing with Elie and Sara's boarhound, Boris. He waited for Sara to finish making a mug full of heady black tea before she seated herself across from him.

"You know that Elie and I used to live in Warsaw?"

Rhett nodded.

"I remember a long, long time ago after the invasion," Sara began. "We were trapped in our city like animals, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Elie and I, we were so young, fifteen and seventeen years old and in terrible danger. Every night we all prayed for a miracle."

Rhett could almost see it before his very eyes and the terrible scene that played out in his mind like a movie.

"Your Oma had come to us with a group of people who claimed they could help," Sara continued. "French and German resisters who were bent on getting people out of the hands of the Nazis. We didn't trust them at first, but quickly we realized we had no choice. "Six hundred of us fled from Warsaw in 1943," Sara explained. "Six hundred. We went on foot, by rail and by truck, all the way to a safe place where we hid."

The more Rhett listened to the story, the more the shock ran through his very core. Royal had never said anything about his mother or about what she had done before leaving Switzerland.

"You see Rhett," Sara said. "It is because of your Oma that we and so many others lived. That is why Elie and I remain close with your family. After we came to America, your Oma and I remained very close friends, so much so that she came to fetch me the night you were born. I made a promise to your Oma that I would watch over you when she passed Rhett.....and Elie and I intend to keep that promise."

Rhett could feel his eyes burning. He had never known. "Why didn't Dad say anything if he knew?" Rhett asked her.

"Do not blame your father Rhett," Sara answered. "That was your Oma's wish. Your father knew how much pain she had gone through for others and didn't wish to inflict that pain on anyone else."

He felt a few loose tears falling from his eyes when he heard Sara's story. "Wish she was still here," he croaked.

"Ah but she is," Sara assured him. "I know she is Rhett."

It took him a while to process the story he had just heard, but after a while, Rhett felt an immense sense of pride, knowing how strong his ties were to the people who were like family to him.

Rhett heard a truck pulling up a little while later when who should appear but you and Royal with Hannah, each of you carrying a little carseat that safely held Tatum and Tanner, your twins.

"Hey Sara," Royal called as he entered. "We come bearing a Hannukah gift for you and Elie."

"Royal Abbott, you march into my house while your son is here...."

Royal laughed, unable to make out the rest of what she had been saying.

You and Sara talked a good long while while Rhett talked things over with Royal. Surprisingly enough, Royal was more than understanding about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya'll sooner son," Royal said. "I saw how much pain it had caused Oma.......I didn't want any of that pain passed onto you guys."

Rhett tried hard to hold back the tears in front of his father but he couldn't. Royal pulled him in and held his son when he saw that look in Rhett's eyes.

When all was said and done and everything had settled, you and Rhett gathered in the living room with Sara and Elie when he had returned, the two of them absolutely head over heels for your boys. Cecelia had joined you a little while later along with the rest of Sara and Elie's family. The grandkids all taught Amy and Hannah how to play dreidel and the delighted shrieks and shouts that came from the living room had you and Rhett in the best of moods.

"Think they'll sleep ok tonight?" you asked.

"No doubt darlin," Rhett chuckled. "Just wait till Christmas Eve."

You half laughed and half groaned at the thought, knowing Amy and her Dutton cousins would all be up till some ungodly hour, having eaten all the candy in their stockings. You and Rhett shared a sweet kiss as you watched the kids. Rhett looked out the living room window and saw that one of the stars was shining a little brighter that night, mouthing a silent "thank you" to his Oma Heidi, who he was sure, was watching over you all.

[nine-frames]

"We spoke on the phone two days ago."

Taken, 2008.

Dir. Pierre Morel | Writ. Luc Besson & Robert Mark Kamen | DOP Michel Abramowicz

[oldsardens]

Leon Abramowicz - Blumenstillleben

[radykalny-feminizm]

I recommend you reading this article. The nuns are at the very bottom of the Catholic Church's hierarchy, and their voices often remain unheard. The convents are often very hostile environments, where the unconditional obedience is the most important value. Nuns are alone with all their struggles. They need a permission to do anything, including going to visit a therapist or studying. They work very hard, many hours per day. Not only that, but they often don't have any money of their own. Being a nun is like being a modern slave. Remarkably, it's very different in male convents. It shouldn't be surprising though, as the Church is built on misogyny.

For my Polish followers interested in the matter: please read "Zakonnice odchodzą po cichu" by Marta Abramowicz.