#hate can buy things

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[yuviur]

Shot by Carol, on one fateful Saturday morning

[cursedvida]

Shipping the two main characters of a fictional work is the most normal thing in the world if these two characters have mental and emotional maturity, regardless of whether they belong to different species. If they are able to communicate with each other, rationalize situations, and make their own decisions, shipping tends to be inevitable. I understand that there are people who don't like Mae/Noa because everyone has their own tastes and preferences, and that's something that can't be argued, but it would be nice if the excuse for hating didn't just boil down to "they're different species" because that doesn't fly. It seems like a poor excuse, not to mention bullshit. I mean, they could elaborate a post with various theories on why the couple doesn't work, and that would be legitimate, but to limit everything to the issue of species? Honestly, it sounds like a desperate attempt to have something to hate about the ship in favor of their own preferences, and that makes me not take their complaints seriously at all. Taylor Swift already said that 'haters gonna hate' but it would be nice if they did it with coherent arguments and not just a tantrum

[canisalbus]

Does machete enjoy being a priest?

Not as much as he had hoped.

[myokk]

“Class, today we’re going to repot the baby mandrakes because they’re getting a bit too big for their current homes! Aren’t they cute?”

[alpacacare-archive]

why you booing me im right

[merildae]

Having set up my new apartment, I think I am realizing I have built for myself everything my 16year old self ever wanted.

I have a cool customized bedroom where I can

•Listen to any music I want on my radio or record player

• Read all my favorite books I’ve curated in a pretty bookcase

• Make any kind of art I want at my home studio

• A closet full of cool clothes that reflects who I am

My pantry is full of food that I like and doesn’t have a lock

I live close by to my gym and I’m the most fit and healthy I’ve ever been in my life

I’m out as trans and I’m 9 months into medically transitioning

I have a really cool job at a museum

I show my art at a gallery

I have freinds

And I have firm boundaries with my family and finally privacy and safety from their control etc etc

I think my recent birthday, this move, and Mother’s Day put me in a reflective mood and realizing I’ve made for myself a life that I used to think I could never have as a teen and I’m like safe from the hell that was my childhood home..

It’s a weird feeling. A good place to be at 28 though I think. I feel like I’ve rescued my hopeless suicidal 16 year old self

[rotationalsymmetry]

Tumblr pet peeve 27: the people who apparently spend so little time in reality that they think the main appeal of fake leather is that it's vegan and not that real leather is fucking expensive. Seriously when's the last time you bought something made out of real leather? That shit costs so much money.

[estravenlover]

HATER NATION!!! what’s the most annoying fan interpretation of aziraphale and crowley

[miss-reagent]

the way this new wallpaper lines up with my poster..... i'm sweating 💦

[seenthisepisode]

i will say with my whole chest that i hate what is happening with music marketing right now. i hate that a song needs to be a tiktok trend. i hate that one album is being released in 23 ways to trick people into buying multiple albums because there are different covers and different photos inside. i hate that one album is being rereleased multiple times as deluxe and then the super deluxe and then super secret version with one additional song just to make the numbers!!!!!! i hate that people without vinyl players buy multiple vinyls of the same album just to own them and collect them. i know no one is making anyone buy multiple versions of the same fucking album by putting a gun to their head BUT COME ONNNNN its all about the money and people and just giving into that!!!!!!!!

[soldier-poet-king]

I can just....go buy new stuff??? And my mother can judge but she can't stop me???? I can buy new pillows frequently BC my fucked neck and jaw and I don't have to stoically suffer to save money or whatever hero martyr complex she insists on making us all endure??? I can buy new tank bras that are both comfortable and don't make my brain scream even tho I haven't worn my current ones to absolute shreds yet??? And she can't stop me??? Her disapproval won't actually make the world end even if it feels like it will??? I can inhabit my body in ways that do not create mental or physical pain by spending (a tbf not even that much amount) of money???

WHACK

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #2932 - January 10th Patreon / Discord Server / Itaku / Bluesky

[transmascutena]

thinking about how akio sees his younger self in utena and wondering if there's any fondness there. doesn't change the horror of what he does to her obviously but i do wonder

[what-inthe-goddamn]

Can’t get nothing past Boone ;-;

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the high prices of fucking Everything is so exhausting i stg