vintage barbie illustration pride icons ❤

Andulka
Three Goblin Art
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes

tannertan36
AnasAbdin

@theartofmadeline

Love Begins

Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n

Discoholic 🪩
Show & Tell

JVL
Keni
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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@malphasegg
vintage barbie illustration pride icons ❤

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young malenia
im so excited for shadow of the erdtree miquella my boy....
In order to show my support for palestine, I thought I would make a post— in typical bird nerd fashion— highlighting some information about one of the many symbols of freedom for the palestinian people: the palestine sunbird.
you’ve seen this bird everywhere lately I’m sure,
so, you may be wondering.. why is this bird so important?
In 2013, Israel campaigned to remove ‘palestine’ from the bird’s name. this failed, however, when the palestine wildlife society (PWS) petitioned to instead adopt it as palestine’s national bird as a direct defiance of the campaign.
in 2015, the palestine sunbird was officially declared the national bird of palestine.
the palestinian artist khaled jarrar designed a border control stamp featuring the sunbird with which he stamped passports as a cry for freedom.
more recently, khaled jarrar has also created these postal stamps for the same message— in defiance of israel’s efforts to erase palestine.
here you can find an incredible, short documentary detailing his work across the years to use his art as a protest against the plight of the palestinian people.
another palestinian artist, rasha eleyan, uses the sunbird in her work as a motif for the strength and boldness of palestinian women:
(source)
the palestinian poet tamim al-barghouti has tied the palestine sunbird’s beauty to resilience, in saying: “whenever you face injustice or roughness, remember to defend yourself by finding beauty… document, prove, and defend it because all beauty is resistance.”
the palestine sunbird is a symbol of hope and strength. It’s a symbol of fighting back against the odds and refusal to go quietly into the night— refusal to be erased.
continue to support palestinian artists.
continue to support palestine.
raise the voices of those who now, more than ever, need to be heard.
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free.
Mahmoud Darwish, from "Mural", trans. John Berger and Rema Hammami [ID'd]

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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happy birthday to my best friend grey 🐇🩵🫂🛌
make whoever scored lowest on the RAADS test go talk to the pizza delivery guy
All the best boy hugs for Karlach
porcelain
Bootslike
the fucking character design in this movie man death looked like he would fit right in a soulslike

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Transparent pins taken from the Arquives' button collection!
extra juicy ❤️🔥
[ID: realistic art of strawberries lying on a white surface /end ID]
Legendary protest singer Phil Ochs, who died 40 years ago, updated "Love Me I'm A Liberal" in 1971 to call out "the arming of Israel."
"Israel was presented as the solution to our anti-Americanism. “Goodbye, America, goodbye Yankee fashions, let’s go to Palestine, the hell with your depressions!” our forebears like Meir had sung in the ’30s, to the Yiddish tune “Zum Gali Gali.” We changed “Yankee fashions” to “Yankee fascists” (and “Palestine” to “Israel”). Zionism was “the national liberation movement of the Jewish people” so we were like the Vietcong or Black Panthers — as if privileged suburban kids like me were in any need of national liberation."
jerma eating burger but hes a muppet

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opéra côté costume - opéra national de paris (1995)
i am shrunken down and brought to the gnome world and when i attempt to assimilate to their culture I use an acorn cap as a hat and they all laugh cheerfully at my silly mistake of wearing what they use as a bowl like a cap and though this is a transgression that would have humiliated me in my human life I am instead laughing alongside them at my humorous misunderstanding
they ask me what I would like to eat and knowing that gnomes enjoy fruit i ask for my favorite fruit, an apple, and they all laugh raucously and say that i must be very hungry indeed to desire an entire apple rather than just a small chunk, and i go along with their joke and say that while my body may have shrank my stomach has not! and they all guffaw with delight until their faces turn red and see that my request is met and we all sit around a toadstool and share many apple slices together
over my time spent with the gnomes, my antics are still regarded with much delight. though i am past the age in which i am confused by their customs and norms, i occasionally pretend to be clueless about simple and easily understood things, such as shock at how toads are as tall as I am. they all continue to laugh at my feigned surprise, and sometimes join in, asking me if I need any help distinguishing what berries are for eating and which are for painting. i laugh, too. there is a sense of grace that comes with my shortcomings amongst the gnomes. they are entertained by my misunderstandings, yes, because life is to short to not be jolly.
i wake up one morning back at my original size. the small cavern in the roots of a tree that i lived in is destroyed in my sleep. my clothes, tailored from cut-up scraps of fabric, are shredded around me. i am a human again. i am horribly embarrassed.
the gnomes of the community gather around where i sit, all looking at me and exchanging glances with each other, none of them speaking the obvious. i can no longer stay here, now that i am not their size. but i was part of their community. i became one of them, indistinguishable from these people only from my past. how am i supposed to return to the world of the humans now? there is no life left for me there. that is not a life where i may fish for minnows in a babbling brook and feast off a bounty of raspberries. i am distraught. i cry.
my community comforts me. friends, all minuscule to me now, pat me wherever they can reach, nimbly dodging the tears that fall from my face. one of them offers me water. they don't have any containers that are big enough for me, they apologize, so just this acorn cap filled with morning dew will have to suffice.
i take the acorn cap and look at it in my hands. it is so small now. with a sniff, i put it atop my head.
the gnome chuckles. then laughs. then bends at the waist, bellowing with laughter, supporting himself on my knee. then i am laughing too, face red, tears still falling, and my community of gnomes laughs with me as well, so loud that a flock of birds takes off in the distance, and i am still laughing even as i stand to my feet and lumber away, back to where i once came.