#my HEART!!!!!

[sunglassesmish]

big man… little cat…..

[iamacolor]

sometimes a women-only poetry recital in celebration of a lost trial is the best spot to see a cetacean 🐬

“Though there are many sayings, life is to gladly become a piece of coal for someone other than myself. From the day the floors grow cold to the day spring comes, the most beautiful thing in the streets of the Korean peninsula is a truck that farvidly climbs up the hill with coal. As if it knows what it has to do, coal burns endlessly once its body catches fire, but I was oblivious even though I had warm rice and soup everyday. Because I feared becoming a lonely lump of ashes after loving others with my whole being, I haven’t become coal for anyone. When I think about it, life is to shatter myself into pieces. I had never thought of cleaning the streets for others to tread when the world is slippery from early morning snow.”

[pyotrkochetkov]

it’s the hysteria patient anon from earlier and yes you nailed it. he just seems like such a gentle giant (off the ice of course), so humble and hardworking and he’s also blessed with THAT face and THAT body and THAT voice.

thank u lord for blessing us with andrei 🫶🏼

like he absolutely knows he’s hot yet at the same time is so bashful about it, HE’S AN ENIGMA

and oh my god i can’t believe i forgot to bring up his VOICE 😵‍💫🫠

THANK YOU GOD, ELENA AND IGOR

[joopsworld]

I don’t think y’all get it

This means EVERYTHING to me

[yona-protection-squad]

100 percent on board with the idea that Yona and Sidon would name one of their children Link ABSOLUTELY

[casuallyhollering]

tucking herself in for bed 🥺

[crusheswhimsandfancies]

I love him so much😭😭😭

[blackskorpi0n]

🐹!!!!!!

You are one of the most supportive and talented people I know!!! I'm always in awe of everything you create aND YOU KEEP GETTING BETTER!! and on top of that, you are insanely beautiful!?!? JUST HOW!!! I always feel so blessed when you drop a selfie <33 i'm so happy you're in my life

I AM LITERALLY GONNA CRY FR NAT OGM ILYYYYY SO MUCH 😭🖤🖤🖤🖤 PLEASE!!!!! UR AMAZING🥺🥺🥺🥺🫠🫠🫠🫠😭😭😭😭😫😫😫

[all-thestories-aretrue]

OH NO another yasha and caleb conversation that also unsurprisingly left me tears. I can't convince myself of this but maybe I can convince you. You have worth and value. Let yourself a bit of happiness. Yasha giving Caleb a hug!!!!! I love them so much 😭😭😭

[funnelcloudd]

DREAMY SIGH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[hawkinslost]

oh   my   god........

[spooksier]

young artist posting your work online, heed my warning. im holding your face so gently in my hands, you have to stop caring about numbers right now and start caring about making the weirdest and most self-indulgent art you possibly can

[leiandroid]

"free palestine," he shouted until his last breath. aaron bushnell, we will never forget you.

as much as bushnell's actions has moved us all, please seek other ways to take actionable measures against the injustices we face in the world. none of us wanted him gone, and the least we can do is prevent another such tragedy by supporting each other in our efforts to enact lasting change.

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[all-chickens-are-trans]

god i'm so tired of everybody's bad faith interpretations of everything. where's the trust. where's the forgiveness. where's the understanding that most things are complex and most people have many layers. and like the black eyed peas once said. where is the love

[the-dragon-girl-27]

It is the middle of a Sunday afternoon. You have nothing on, and aren't expecting visitors, deliveries or post.

Unexpectedly, there is a knock at the door.

you are greeted by...... her