#unrelenting

[punkrockgrantaire]

Lynda Carter and Neil Gaiman managing to set their flags on opposite sides of the Goncharov debaucle, each representing one camp, the camps being “teehee this is fun” and “I will kill you myself if you bring it up again”

[howifeltabouthim]

That this was not the darkest part of my childhood, can you imagine?

Lisa Taddeo, from Animal

[somekindofadeviant]

I am tired, so very tired, of folks who spend almost all of their time in fandom talking about what they hate about the show, the characters they loathe and why in intricate detail, rather than the things that bring them joy. Didn't you come to fandom because you liked the thing?

[ribbittrobbit]

want to write a scifi horror comic called dust war where the enemy is the Dust inspired by the dust that coats my entire apartment and against which I CANNOT WIN

[shepardyke]

where are all these porn bots coming from jesus christ

[torchtour]

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4

bro i hate living in ohio i thought a squirrel got trapped in my bathroom (again) but i opened the door to this absolute tomfoolery. do i need to involve cops or can i just call animal control?? idk how long it's been in there but if it fucked with my toothbrush ill be livid

(inspired by the lovely work of @squidflavoredsoup !!)

[helen--richardson]

"The best part of being fat is being soft and comfy to cuddle with" "The best part of being fat is knowing people like you for your personality and not your looks" Wrong. The best part of being fat is getting to swim in ice-cold water for FAR longer than my peers. My skinny friends can barely last 10 minutes in the pacific ocean without losing feeling in their fingers meanwhile i can be in there for HOURS. I was born to swim in glacial lakes and icemelt streams. Also I float.

[stuckinapril]

Honestly it boils down to reparenting yourself & rewiring your own neuronal pathways & telling yourself a firm “stop” when you notice your mind slipping down negative loopholes & being present in the moment & enjoying being mid task rather than waiting for it to end & not thinking of inertia as your baseline and natural way of living

[tenth-sentence]

The excitement of earlier years was replaced by the hard, unrelenting slog of cost cutting and repositioning.

"Westpac: The Bank That Broke the Bank" - Edna Carew

[phantomrose96]

I think we should have a turn of phrase for "I'm not in the right, but I AM annoyed with this situation, so I just need to go bitch to a friend about this before I suck it up and go do the right thing" because more and more I'm finding this is a critical element of functional adulthood.

[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.

[tazmiilly]

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . it was a painful feeling . . . she walked around with it all the time, hanging from her neck.

Lisa Taddeo, from Animal

[beatsforbrothels]

Infant Island - Unrelenting

[doctorcurdlejr]

Sure

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)