#the riding school

[shitty-check-please-aus]

What we need to do is convince all the disney adults in america that high speed rail would be a preferable way of getting to disneyworld compared to driving or flying. We could maybe harness their fondness for the monorail or something, but this is a group of people that has time, income, and passion that we could leverage. If we could direct 5% of the enthusiasm they have for limited edition popcorn buckets into calling their representatives and demanding high-speed interstate rail, we could get it by 2030

[saturnvs]

stjärnfall / falling stars

[owlssin]

PACIFIC RIM PACIFIC RIM I LOVE PACIFIC RIM

[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.

[kelocitta]

Anthro Au Survivor drafts feat. too much worldbuilding because I cant just put pants on a slugcat like a normal person & my godawful handwriting

The Survivor (Their full, scavenger-given name includes the 'The') was separated from their family while traveling between colonies and stranded in the dangerous unpopulated wilds. Against all odds they managed to survive (and wander) far longer than they should have been able, but rather than reconnecting with their (or another) slugcat family, they instead made contact with one of the many wandering scavenger troops- But unfortunately not one that had ever met a slugcat nor had any idea what to make of a stranded one. Regardless the group gave it their best, ended up committing to the role of slugparents, and The Survivor and their troop still consider themselves close family long after Survivor finally reconnected with their sibling. (They're a bit of a mess though, understandably)

[morganbritton132]

Tim, out of an act of pure desperation, runs to his neighbor’s house and asks his butler how to remove a stain from a shirt he’s supposed to wear that evening.

Alfred, of course, helps and that turned into him answering all of Tim’s questions (“why does my pasta keep boiling over?”) which in turn, turns into little home ect lessons a couple times a week.

Tim likes this because he likes Alfred and now he knows how to cook more than just butter noodles and pizza rolls. Alfred enjoys the company while everybody is out of the house.

And this is going great until Bruce spontaneously decides to pick Jason up early from school.

They get home during one of these lessons and Jason is like, “Hey, it’s Tim Drake, right? Do you know when you’re coming back to school? I can let Mrs. Simmons know.”

The silence is loud.

Tim definitely implied to Alfred that the reason he could come over in the middle of the day was because he was homeschooled.

[crystallizsch]

DID SOMEONE SAY FILIPINO TWST (no one did it's just me 😔)

below the cut is stock photos of what is a trike/tricycle in the philippines (what they’re riding on) if you're unfamiliar!! and also some rambling about my heartshackle trio ;;;

i referenced the one on the left, there's usually supposed to be a screen where ace is popping out (and also i think deuce would prefer riding the one on the right where it's an actual motorcycle and not just a bike)

i like to think that the trio found this tricycle trashed and broken somewhere and they tried to fixed it up so they could all take a ride on it

ace and deuce kinda fought who’ll be the first to ride it and deuce only won because they all agreed deuce was the one who actually knew (for the most part) how to fix the thing

++++ some more concepts/hcs between them in this au(???) 😳

all three of them are childhood friends who grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same elementary school. unfortunately in high school they ended up in different schools, but they all still remained close friends 🥹

grim exists but as a regular cat who “belongs” to yuuna (yuuna was just grim’s favorite out of the three). technically he’s just a neighborhood stray, yuuna can’t really keep him as a pet at home (and neither can ace/deuce) but somehow grim keeps finding the heartshackle trio whenever they’re all together. and so grim just became part of the group.

yuuna has a physical album of photos dedicated to all the times they go to jollibee. they take a photo with the jollibee statue every single time they all go there.

[moxiepoxart]

Stan’s new ride

[minnow-doodle-doo]

Middle school, especially Gotham Academy, can be the worst but they got each other.

[morepeachyogurt]

what is adolescence if not leaving and being left?

1. iain s. thomas | 2. alison zai @alisonzai | 3. @chloeinletters | 4. mikko harvey | 5. fleetwood mac | 6. the breakfast club (1985), john hughes | 7. lorde | 8. miranda july | 9. richard siken | 10. @mavra-matia | 11. homer | 12. amy hempel | 13. mitski | 14. katrin koenning | 15. freya ridings |

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 114

Jack and Maddie figure out the truth. They can’t possibly hurt there boy. Even if they knew he was just a spook with pretend emotions.

So they inform the Giw.

The GIW waits for no one. In the middle of the school day they arrive at the highschool. Now when i was in highschool we had reinforced doors and they remained locked the entire school day. They had to buzz you in and out.

So the Giw arrive banging on the door ordering the arrest of Danny Fenton aka Phantom.

Turns out the staff and students of Casper high are ride and die. They all had weapons on them. They literally get attacked multiple times in a day.

This turns into a huge stand off.

Casper high protects there own. Dash and Paulina absolutely not letting Danny out of thier sights. No way. He’s in danger! Sam and tucker weren’t even in school that day. Jazz was pulled early.

No one os getting through to them. Jocks just throwing balls and weapons at the Giw from the roof. Paulina trying to disguise Danny but his ecto signature prevents that.

They have the whole school surrounded with anti-ecto weaponry so Danny can’t even sneak away.

Just the school protecting and hiding Danny. All until the JL get involved.

Government reached out to them as there is clearly a mind control or hostage situation happening. It had been 4 days. Something was clearly possessing them. Why else would the school be hiding the ghost boy?

[black-and-yellow]

The walk home from UA

[saturnvs]

but imagine this: a fjording that is also a unicorn :)

[nutmargaret]

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[legogradstudent]

Collaborating on a project with several colleagues, the grad student is unable to identify exactly what he is contributing.