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Hello and welcome! You can call me Kit :) Tags for original posts & reblogs listed below. Look around. Stay a while.

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi

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pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith

Discoholic 🪩
occasionally subtle
Xuebing Du

shark vs the universe
$LAYYYTER

blake kathryn
Cosmic Funnies

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almost home
RMH
Misplaced Lens Cap

gracie abrams
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@fervent-bookwomb
BOG DIRECTORY:
Hello and welcome! You can call me Kit :) Tags for original posts & reblogs listed below. Look around. Stay a while.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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my thing i haven’t made is so good 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
thank fuck countless hours i devoted to this blog paid off.. people i think are cool think im cool
dont make it weird but i see some of you on the dash and i get really gay
You can call it love if you want

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Mammal in a Sunday Dress, by Georgina M. Cox, 2026
Mammal in a Sunday Dress explores the uneasy relationship between femininity, civilisation, and the animal body. At first glance, the figure appears modest and withdrawn. Her posture is composed, her gaze seemingly lowered towards her bare feet, recalling the conventions of nineteenth-century portraiture where women were often depicted as passive objects of observation. Yet as the viewer moves closer, the illusion collapses. Her eyes are not lowered at all. She is looking directly back. The delayed eye contact transforms the encounter. The viewer approaches believing they are safely observing a woman; instead, they realise they have been observed themselves. The work refuses the traditional power dynamic of portraiture, denying the comfort of anonymous spectatorship. Looking becomes a reciprocal act. For Cox, the painting considers humanity's persistent desire to separate itself from the rest of the animal kingdom. The title quietly undermines this distinction. A "mammal" is not another creature—it is us. The Sunday dress, rich with cultural associations of femininity, morality, and respectability, becomes an attempt to distinguish ourselves from nature. Yet clothing cannot alter biology. Beneath lace and ritual remains the same vulnerable animal body. The work also reflects on the historical relationship between women and nature. Across art, religion, and philosophy, women have repeatedly been positioned as closer to instinct, emotion, reproduction, and the body itself, while men have been aligned with reason, culture, and civilisation. Mammal in a Sunday Dress does not reject this comparison. Instead, it questions why proximity to nature has so often been treated as something lesser. Chiaroscuro isolates the figure within darkness, allowing the luminous dress to symbolise the performance of civilisation while the bare feet quietly return the body to the earth. Neither is presented as more truthful than the other. The painting exists in the tension between performance and instinct, refinement and biology. Mammal in a Sunday Dress ultimately asks a simple but unsettling question: if every layer of culture were stripped away, what would remain? Not a king. Not a saint. Not a gentleman or a lady. Only another mammal, looking back.
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Pjackk url held and actively used by someone who's not even funny with it is the bad ending but in a meta sense it's a fitting trajectory for pjackk's corpse so carry on
It’s like watching the corpse of an old friend being piloted by a mind control parasite except the mind control parasite is not genre conscious enough either be convincing but just a little off or to be obviously false in horrific ways, rather just kinda half-assedly toying with the corpse and doesn’t even really want it that much, which is a deeply appropriate outcome for Pjackk’s continuing desecration
we're saying hi if you want in on this
i imprinted on your dope soul and kind nature bro
Jennifer’s Body (2009) || Hannibal (2013-2015)

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riding the highest horse you’ve ever seen back to my glass house
the unimaginable power of saying "huh, guess that's not for me" and moving on with your life
Phantom Thread 2017, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson
all i'm saying is that if i wanted someone calling themselves "gemini" to correct me with the wrong information I would go to a pride event
settings > wound > my wound > reopen
do not forget this

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i know this is tumblr and we’re all playing perverts but i just think some of you would be excellent company for a late night walk and a four hour conversation about absolutely nothing
checked under the sink a bit ago and saw i’ve got an angel infestation. annoying bastards. it explains all the weird dreams and salt pillars and how my neighbor’s dog kept barking in latin the other day, i guess. i’ll have to pick up some more glue traps tomorrow. i’m just hoping my cat doesn’t manage to catch any of them before the traps do; last time, i found a bunch of halos and chewed-up wings, and it was a whole thing with the vet. eight hundred bucks and a vision of the heat death of the universe later, and they tell me not to worry, it happens all the time, and to bring her back if she still has more than two eyes after a week. what a fucking scam.