thelma2017dirjoachimtrier

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

“For some reason, we are truly convinced that if we criticize ourselves, the criticism will lead to change. If we are harsh, we believe we will end up being kind. If we shame ourselves, we believe we end up loving ourselves. It has never been true, not for a moment, that shame leads to love. Only love leads to love.”

— Geneen Roth

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

wait sigmar polke is actually goated

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

Hi! I was so into your tumbler 4 years ago. (now I'm 29)

I visited your tumbler again today when I saw an old photo on my phone that captured your post.

I'm glad you didn't change your username after all this time. I tried to find your tumbler recently, but I couldn't find it, and that's when I felt lost. 🥲

"What is this?" I'm sorry. You would think so I'm just glad I found you.

How sweet of you… The old one is gone and in the void forever, unfortunately. But this one gives way to a fresh start. I hope you have a lovely day ❤️

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

The importance of touch is that it places you. It is the medium of the articulation of a relationship. Touch yields two different senses–that of connection and that of separateness. It makes for a sense of oneness … as well as for a sense of difference. One thing is sure: if we are not touched, we might begin to suspect that we are not here.

Kathleen Woodword, Aging and its Discontents

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

“The thing about rarely being seen, the thing about being called words that always bounce off me or fall flat at my feet, is what a heart balm it is when she looks right at me like she does. How she heals me with that sideways flicker-in-her-eyes look. That you-just-wait-until-I-get-you-home look. How her hands on me helped me own all of this body again. Her hands on me how she takes me takes what she wants and then gives it back to me when she is finished, gives it back to me better somehow. And I mean all off me. More whole. All the sweeter because it took so long for me to find myself, to truly live inside all of me.”

— ivan coyote, gender failure

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

“lover, mine. sweet forest canopy, oh mossy floor. be brook to me, and clearing. solid floor, my sturdy roof; true like timber your quiet grain. hearth, and thrill of flight. your years on the trail, our two meanders. well-met, worn and ready, we come home.”

— holly k. iglesias

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

The Unfinished Dance (Henry Koster, 1947)

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

WELCOME BACK

INDEED

[thelma2017dirjoachimtrier]

In the Bible, Saint Martha is best known for being the sister of Lazarus, of returning-from-the-dead fame. However, according to a French folk tale, she later visited Provence in the south of France and tamed a ferocious dragon-like beast called the Tarasque, which had been terrorizing nearby villages and eating the locals. This event is still celebrated with an annual parade in Tarascon on the last weekend in June, featuring a float shaped like the Tarasque.

There’s a tradition in art of depicting the Tarasque caught mid-munch by Martha, with a pair of legs hanging out of its mouth and a very contrite expression on its face, like a puppy who’s been found eating your socks. Here are a few of my favourite Tarasque-shaming pictures.