Howl's Moving Castle
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Three Goblin Art

oozey mess
trying on a metaphor
NASA
occasionally subtle

titsay
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
AnasAbdin

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies
Keni
almost home
Acquired Stardust
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Discoholic 🪩

pixel skylines
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Mike Driver
art blog(derogatory)

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@aevarswall
Howl's Moving Castle

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poetry is the ghost of the poet who poured his soul onto the page and reading it a hundred of more years later is all well and fine, until you catch a spark of that connection to the author light a glint of light on a mirror and suddenly you know what he felt and you've felt what he feels and you understand your soul or humanity or even with discernment, God just a tiny bit better. that's where the magic happens. that little moment of awe and wonder when you understand in your heart.
like i'm sorry what do you mean that this guy was like Going Through It in his mind and arguing with himself, but then he took a walk and saw the beauty of living and wondered at creation and felt a burst of light in his heart??? AND HE WROTE IT DOWN FOR US. 😭✌
So I did actually write this last night (Saturday) while getting sleepy from slightly-expired benadryl (as suggested by my mom for an itchy response to... something?) and whilst trying to read The Two Voices by Lord Alfred Tennyson (it's very long ok) and trying to understand it better after finding out he wrote it after losing a dear friend and contemplating life and death. And no, that's not even close to a scenario I am in--praise God--But like, I can feel his sorrow through the pages with 200 years of time betwixt us.
Again the voice spake unto me: ‘Thou art so steep’d in misery, Surely ’twere better not to be.
‘Thine anguish will not let thee sleep, Nor any train of reason keep: Thou canst not think, but thou wilt weep.’
I said, ‘The years with change advance: If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
---
I said, ‘I toil beneath the curse, But, knowing not the universe, I fear to slide from bad to worse.
‘And that, in seeking to undo One riddle, and to find the true, I knit a hundred others new:
‘Or that this anguish fleeting hence, Unmanacled from bonds of sense, Be fix’d and froz’n to permanence:
‘For I go, weak from suffering here: Naked I go, and void of cheer: What is it that I may not fear?’
‘Consider well,’ the voice replied, ‘His face, that two hours since hath died; Wilt thou find passion, pain or pride?
‘Will he obey when one commands? Or answer should one press his hands? He answers not, nor understands.
‘His palms are folded on his breast: There is no other thing express’d But long disquiet merged in rest.
‘His lips are very mild and meek: Tho’ one should smite him on the cheek, And on the mouth, he will not speak.
‘His little daughter, whose sweet face He kiss’d, taking his last embrace, Becomes dishonour to her race–
‘His sons grow up that bear his name, Some grow to honour, some to shame,– But he is chill to praise or blame.
‘He will not hear the north-wind rave, Nor, moaning, household shelter crave From winter rains that beat his grave.
‘High up the vapours fold and swim: About him broods the twilight dim: The place he knew forgetteth him.’
-----
And while I was maybe crying about it last night because of the benedryl...Today I still found the parts I understood to be very profound. Especially near the end. The man had BARS.
--
‘Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly long’d for death.
‘’Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life, not death, for which we pant; More life, and fuller, that I want.’
---
So heavenly-toned, that in that hour From out my sullen heart a power Broke, like the rainbow from the shower,
To feel, altho’ no tongue can prove, That every cloud, that spreads above And veileth love, itself is love.
And forth into the fields I went, And Nature’s living motion lent The pulse of hope to discontent.
I wonder’d at the bounteous hours, The slow result of winter showers: You scarce could see the grass for flowers.
I wonder’d, while I paced along: The woods were fill’d so full with song, There seem’d no room for sense of wrong;
And all so variously wrought, I marvell’d how the mind was brought To anchor by one gloomy thought;
And wherefore rather I made choice To commune with that barren voice, Than Him that said, ‘Rejoice! Rejoice!’
Like...
AHHHHHHHHHHHH?!?!?!?
Fata Morgana
a superior mirage caused by warm air resting on patches of colder air in an atmospheric duct that acts like a refracting lens. Objects on the horizon could appear to be mirrored, distorted, or float. This form of mirage could be the reason for the Flying Dutchman Legend.
i’ve watched this like 8 times in a row
Me and my dog post-apocalypse after we find a broken crate of canned peaches washed up on the beach
Source

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From the book Cut these words into my stone: ancient Greek epitaphs (Wolfe, Michael)
FUCK QUICK DOES ANYOME HAVE A COPY OF THAT MEME WHERE TWO PEOPLE ARE TALKING AND THEN ONE PERSON SAYS SOMETHING BIZARRE AND THEN THEYRE DRAWN AS AN ALIEN
I need it STAT
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU
I want to say unironically that this process of describing something to tumblr followers and then begging them to find it is a better search engine than the rest of the market right now. This was an act of desperation after increasingly frustrated searching and not even duckduckgo got me there but within 0.0001 second of posting on here--results immediately. the future of knowledge searching lies in direct crowdsourcing as we've all been enshittified back to "asking around"
looks at you upsidedownly

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dont worry kid. if you just devote yourself to your craft and put enough time and energy into practice one day you will also be able to make art that gets 50 notes on tumblr dot com
Only day you can rb this
You just hate me because the patterns on my clothes move around like they do on chowder and yours don’t
On November 12, 1833, there was a meteor shower so intense that it was possible to see up to 100,000 meteors crossing the sky every hour. At the time, many thought it was the end of the world, so much so that it inspired this woodcut by Adolf Vollmy.
better quality version

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if you would, please pray that God directs me to a job soon
this is how i feel when ppl say genshin has diverse body types sorry