Janaina Medeiros
Origami Around
shark vs the universe
d e v o n
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Game of Thrones Daily
JVL
Sade Olutola
One Nice Bug Per Day
we're not kids anymore.
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Three Goblin Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from Malaysia
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@regalwright
You know what, fuck it. Figure skating is now my favorite sport. Unless there's another one that will let a competitor dress up in a silly costume and do all these silly jumps and wiggles and fall on purpose, IN THE OLYMPICS, there's no contest
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Look!!!!!!!
Y'ALL!!!!! ITS AN ANIMATED FILM!!! OF A CROW!!!! IN 1932!!!!!! SINGING ELECTRONICALLY SYNTHESIZED MUSIC!!!!!! AND ITS FROM SOVIET RUSSIA!!!!!!!!!!
IT WAS MADE BY THIS PERSON NAMED NIKOLAI VOINOV USING AN INSTRUMENT HE INVENTED CALLED THE VARIOPHONE THAT GENERATED SOUND USING PAPER CUT-OUTS!!!!!!! HONESTLY THIS IS ONE OF THE COOLEST THINGS I HAVE EVER SEEN! GO CHECK IT OUT!!!
This is the only known film created for Edison's Kinetophone that has a surviving soundtrack. The Kinetophone was an amalgamation of the Kinetoscope (a device for playing film in a personal viewer) and a phonograph that could play back recordings on wax cylinders. Unfortunately, kinetophones were unable to synchronize the footage and audio during playback. These two recordings weren't digitally synced until the 90's (courtesy of legendary film editor Walter Murch)!
Also huge shout-out to the two homies waltzing next to the violinist.
My love for this man's performances knows no bounds.
Whenever I'm feeling down, I know I can turn to Harpo's music. He was truly one of the most talented and innovative harpists.
Which artist should I study for my final Spanish Project
Luis Buñuel
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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by Koji Takashima / 高島光司 Splash! (Mrs. Takashima) / 撒水 (1951）
These petroglyphs were made by the Fremont people (named for the Fremont river near where they once lived) in what is today Dinosaur National Monument. They were originally discovered by the Núuchi-u (Ute) and Diné (Navajo) people who believed they were made by people who lived in the region before Tééhoołtsódii flooded it because Coyote had kidnapped her children. It is unclear what happened to the Fremont people. Some hypothesis are that they may have become part of the Ancestral Pueblo or Numic-speaking people.
Thinking about the fact that my father used to refer to my cats as “fur rats.”
Like, doesn’t that imply that actual rats don’t have fur?
Y’all, I just got invited to go ghost hunting
Looking for advice. What should I expect? What’s the proper ghost hunting conduct?
Why I stand with Planned Parenthood
Multiple gynos refused me an IUD because “oh, it hurts so much to put in when you’ve had kids! We don’t want to put you in pain!!”
I was at a 7-9 on the pain scale regularly for my periods, and the docs were determined to make me run the gauntlet.
“But what about the pill?”
“Symptom-swap.”
“Have you thought about depo?”
“Mood drop.”
“And the patch?”
“Family history of breaking out in rashes.”
“Well, what about the nuva ring?”
“How will that NOT give me the same symptom-swap issues?”
“…”
“Look, I’m in pain so bad I wake up in the middle of the night. I’m in pain so bad I didn’t know I had appendecitis. I need SOMETHING.”
“Have you tried an ibuprofen protocol?”
“YES.”
“There are yoga poses that help with cramping.”
“I can’t uncurl from the ball of pain I’m in. How the hell am I supposed to hold position?”
“Well, how much caffeine do you drink? That could be a factor.”
“I have three cups of coffee a day and drink lots of water.”
And so on.
Then, one day, I made an appointment and went to Planned Parenthood.
“Yeah. Hi. I have incredibly painful periods that are fucking crippling me, and I need an IUD.”
“Okay. Do you have a chart of your periods I can look at?”
“Yup.”
“Okay. Looks like you have regular, heavy periods where the pain is worsening. Is that right?”
“Yup. And the fatigue. And the mood swings. And all of it.”
“Fatigue and mood swings, too?”
“Yup.”
“…is there any history of endometriosis in your family?”
“Yup. I’ve never been diagnosed, though. They say it takes a biopsy.”
“The biopsy can confirm tissue, but if you don’t have excess tissue, it doesn’t really help. You can have endo without excess tissue.”
“Okay. So, what are my options?”
“I suggest Mirena. Paraguard can make period symptoms worse even though it’s got no hormones while Mirena has a low-dose hormone that should help with all your pain and other issues. Here’s all the info on both of them. Here are models of both of them. Why don’t you take everything with you, read through it, then call if you have any questions? We can go ahead and schedule for insertion before you leave, and you can just call and say which type you want after you’ve read up. Is that okay?”
“…Yeah. That’s. That’s fine.”
“Do you have any questions right now?”
“Um, I got told a bunch I shouldn’t get an IUD because the insertion will hurt too much because I haven’t had kids.”
“Looking at the pain you’re usually in, I think you can handle it. It will definitely hurt, but it should only last about twenty seconds.”
“Twenty seconds?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been refused the best option for dealing with my symptoms because of TWENTY SECONDS?!”
“Sadly, we hear that a lot.”
Planned Parenthood treated me like a PERSON who was in pain, not a walking uterus bitching and moaning about womanly things. Planned Parenthood showed me respect and kindness and respected the knowledge I brought of my own medical history to the conversation. Planned Parenthood respected my autonomy where other doctors rarely had and paid attention when I explained why I felt the IUD was the best choice. Planned Parenthood showed me I mattered, and I want to show how much they matter to me.
^ the difference between a person’s symptoms being diminished versus believed.
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I see it a lot in my students that the ONLY mode they can engage with literature on is one in which they either say it's good because it's "relatable" or it's bad because they "can't relate to it" as well, and I feel like this is a symptom of the same problem. An unwillingness to engage with fiction outside of its ability to be a mirror to your specific worldview and set of morals. But art doesn't exist to give you moral purity badges--it's a mode of expression that produces conversations between artists and readers. And to engage in those converesations on an adult level you need to learn to process the discomfort of flawed human realities productively.
For real!!! It's healthy to engage with different types of fiction, both for catharthis and for our analysis skills! It takes practice to decipher the messages media sends you, and engaging with problematic content both helps you better recognize said messaging in other contexts. No media is 100% unproblematic either. Everything is influenced, intentionally or not, by society. So it's impossible to consume completely unproblematic media. Everything has some bias. And that's okay. What's more important is learning about that messaging, and reframing your own mindset. Not just trying to seek out purely unproblematic media (that doesn't even exist) or feeling guilty about enjoying something.
also someone ask me my thoughts on how we discuss cis male violence & trans people & how it fails trans men
i love you all
cis male violence towards transfems is often used as the proof of the latter's womanhood: they, like cis women, experience the violence of cis men, and therefore they are just another kind of woman who experiences the same misogynistic violence.
but then trans men are, once again, left in a strange position of not being able to fit in well in the cisbinarist narrative. we also experience the violence of misogynistic cis men.
and on one side, you have transphobes who love taunting trans men about this. they love mocking trans men for not wanting to be in men's prisons, for fearing cis men, demanding that if we're real men then we won't mind being physically threatened and attacked by cis men. we're told that if we're real men then we won't have any fears about going in men's bathrooms or men's lockerrooms, because cis men don't (according to them).
and on the other side, you have other queer folks who say that trans men don't have any reason to fear cis men. they say T makes you pass super fast & no one really minds trans men anyways, and so any trans man who has concerns about cis men's violence is just being overdramatic and has a victim complex.
and then this comes together to both transphobes and other queer people who mock and get angry at trans men for wanting to stay at historically female colleges, who need access to women's shelters, for not being "real men" and also not fitting in good enough to the cisbinarist model of trans activism.
anyways this is why transunitism is vital to transmasc liberation & translib in general. for transmascs specifically it brings awareness to why and how we are still marginalized for our genders, while still being men and equally as male as cis men. but for all trans people, it also allows us to take a stand for how we are hurt- actively, deeply hurt- by cis women, especially powerful cis women, and vocalize why cis women-dominated spaces are not immediately a safe haven.
I would also like to be clear that bobwhite quail, despite weighing like 6oz, would absolutely fight god and win. I used to keep them in with my peafowl and I had to stop because the bobwhites kept picking fights with the peafowl. and winning.
Can confirm.
When Tina Turner left her first husband - who was also her boss, captor, and brutal tormentor - she snuck out of their Dallas hotel room with a single thought in her mind: "The way out is through the door." From there she fled across the midnight freeway, semi-trucks careening past her, with 36 cents and a Mobil gas card in her pocket. As soon as she decided to walk out that door, she owned nothing else. When she filed for divorce, she made an unusual request. She didn't want anything: not the song rights, not the cars, not the houses, not the money. All she wanted was the stage name he gave her - Tina - and her married name - Turner. This was the name by which the world had come to know her, and keeping it was her only chance to salvage her career. Things could have gone a lot of ways from there. She could have labored in obscurity for decades, maybe making records on small labels to be prized by vinyl connoisseurs in Portland. She could have stayed in Vegas, where she first went to get her chops back up, and worked as a nostalgia act. And, of course, given what she had been through, she might have … not made it. What happened instead is that Tina Turner became the biggest global rock star of the 80s. I'm old enough to barely remember this, but if you aren't, it was like this: The Rolling Stones would headline a stadium one day, and the next day it would be Tina Turner. A middle-aged Black woman - she became a rock star at 42! - sitting atop the 1980s like it was her throne. She managed this because of whatever rare stuff she was made of (this is a woman whose label gave her two weeks to record her solo debut, Private Dancer, which went five times platinum); because she decided to speak publicly about her abusive marriage and forge her own identity, and in doing so give hope and courage to countless women; and also because - in a perhaps unlikely twist for a girl from Nutbush, Tennessee - she had her practice of Soka Gakkai Nichiren Buddhism, to which she credited her survival. She remained devout until the end. Tina's second marriage - to her, her only marriage - was to Edwin Bach, a Swiss music executive 16 years her junior. Of him, she said, "Erwin, who is a force of nature in his own right, has never been the least bit intimidated by my career, my talents, or my fame." In 2016, after a barrage of health problems, Tina's kidneys began to fail. A Swiss citizen by then, she had started preparing for assisted suicide when her husband stepped in. According to Tina, he said, "He didn't want another woman, or another life." He gave her one of his kidneys, buying her the remainder of her time on this earth and perhaps closing a cycle which took her from a man who inflicted injury upon her to a man willing to inflict injury upon himself to save her from harm. Born into a share-cropping family as Anna Mae Bullock in 1939, she died Tina Turner in a palatial Swiss estate: the queen of rock 'n roll; a storm of a performer with a wildcat-fierce voice; a dancer of visceral, spine-tingling potency and ability; a beauty for the ages; a survivor of terrible abuse and an advocate for others in similar situations; an author and actress; a devout Buddhist; a wife and mother; a human being of rare talent and perseverance who, through her transcendent brilliance, became a legend.
Credit: Will Stenberg
van gogh’s brush strokes. x
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when you're younger you make fun of it because it seems boring but one of the best parts of getting older and maturing is recognizing how simply lovely all that cliche shit is. sunsets really are so endlessly satisfying. the hint of lilacs in the breeze really is soft and delicate and sweet. sometimes it feels good just to successfully clean the sink, to find an affordable appliance in the color you've been wanting, to try a new recipe, to finally get through that one television series like how you've been meaning.
it seemed stupid because they tell you - it'll feel quick - but it does feel quick. when i was younger it was like time was molasses. i couldn't get out of there fast enough. all the eras of my life stretched out into taffy. but then you are 29 on a walk with a friend and you both just stop to smell the lily of the valley at your feet. you are both standing there, quiet, enjoying the simple moment of peace.
they say it gets better a lot, which used to have no meaning to me. better for me was undefined and daunting. but here is one way it got better without me trying - a few days ago i was walking my dog and stopped to stand in a sunbeam, turning my cheeks up at the shaft of golden fairylights, the dustmotes in the wood all shivering their little dancing bodies. a stranger stopped and kind of cocked her head and said basking? and i laughed nervously, already moving to get out of her way. instead, she said can i bask with you? and we stood there, full adults, a soundless hum in our chest. when the clouds came back over the sun, we made that awkward small talk - yeah i didn't expect it to be this chilly! and haha spring allergies are comin'.
and you pour yourself a cup of tea and are delighted when you measure the sugar ratio perfectly and you manage to parallel park correctly on the first time (probably because nobody was looking) and yoga really did help your lower back mobility and brown paper packages really do tug on your heartstrings and you love sweaters and furry blankets and watching your little potted plants grow one new and shining leaf and you want to find your younger self and say. yes, i am nostalgic for summers that bent like wheat and were buzzing with low energy and sleep. but darling. adulthood gets better because the time condenses into a prayerbook of your own psalms, these tender beautiful memories. it gets better because things become prettier, gentler, kinder to you - somehow. without you even noticing. you just get to the top of the hill and you realize - oh, this is the thing i've been missing.
literally amazing how many different songs the human mind can store. we are music boxes
fr it's like i have a 24/7 radio going on in my head that i have varying levels of control over. rn its playing "i need a hero" by bonnie tyler. its been doing that for the past hour and a half.
