acequidwrites

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“Untitled” (2014) by Nguyễn Hoàng Nam ☀ Child in purple áo dài claims her persimmon kingdom

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Underground is a weird place

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'beaten to a pulp on the bed of moss' - stephen j. shanabrook

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>A sheep died in a bog. The top of the sheep’s back was not submerged and rotted away. The submerged parts remained perfectly preserved.

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"The Alpilles" and "Mont Gaussier", Yoann Crépin

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4 shades of blue captured in a single image in Antarctica

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the wildlife photographer of the year peoples choice award is always fun

there's a stoat hiding in that last one

source - go check out the rest of the awards too, they're really incredible

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Anniversary of APOLLO 11 MOON LANDING

On July 20, 1969, 109 hours and 42 minutes after launch, Neil Armstrong and Edwin ‘Buzz’ Aldrin entered the lunar lander ‘Eagle’, made a final check, and the Eagle undocked from the lunar orbiter ‘Columbia’, where the third member of the crew Michael Collins, stayed in orbit around the moon. Partially manually piloted by Armstrong, the Eagle landed 0 degrees, 41 minutes, 15 seconds north moon latitude and 23 degrees, 26 minutes east moon longitude. Armstrong stepped out, and Aldrin followed 20 minutes later: human beings stepped on the moon for the first time. The two men spent 21 hours and 26 minutes on its surface. One of the astounding aspects of the mission was the seeming simplicity of the technology used to get man to the moon. According to Oliver Gassmann, professor of Technology Management, the mobile phone in your pocket has one million times more memory than the Apollo 11’s computer. Same about the procesor: the latest phones typically have more than 100,000 times the processing power of the computer that landed man on the moon 50 years ago.

“It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.” –Neil Armstrong

(gifs from the documentary Chasing The Moon, 2019)

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(by Seele An)| Hangzhou, China

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Land of the Giants, 1968

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Get these ai writing assistants out of my face!!!! I don't care if my writing is bad at least it is mine!!!!

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thanks for the tag @delilahprofitt !! <3 ^-^

currently reading: fahrenheit 451! looooveee a bradbury and have actually never read this one before so i’m excited

last song: suckerpunch by all time low. band of my life need to see them live this year (and maybe it’s actually gnarly katseye and maybe i felt that revealed nothing new about me-)

last film: PACIFIC RIM!!!! coolest movie ever made unfortunately not taking arguments at this time

last series: ummm oh yeah squid game s3. havent finished it yet tho 🤫

sweet/savory/salty: savory. but actually sour…i love you balsamic vinegar and pickles and kimchi

tea or coffee: tea :) green or oolong or earl grey. and also all of them

working on: an og novel actually 🫣🫣 ok and also a pacific rim AU maphinz fic and idk what’s wrong w me bc actually i don’t rly write AU but like the voices won’t stop speaking to me…the whispers are so loud….. and Also some other maphinz stuff kicking around bc the brainworms are so big and powerful they cld be in dune. and like. my job i guess 😭

People I want to get to know more: @that-one-scared-gay @marvellouspinecone @taikoturtle no pressure at all tho ofc ^^

@crashandfurious ty for tag like always crashie!

currently reading: postcards from the edge!

last song: chateau lobby #4 (in c for two virgins). i haven't listened to father john misty since high school but yesterday i remembered how jb liked real love baby (← normal way to engage with music)

last film: oh. room. it was all right. i only watched it 'cause i read the book in an effort to try to learn to write better kidfic

last series: pop star academy :)) ty for the reminder to cancel my netflix; i literally only got it for that

sweet/savory/salty: sweet i think <3

tea or coffee: shitty black coffee from the office keurig right now. but chocolate ibarra

working on: THE MAPHINZ DIVORCE FIC which is going to be over 10k i fear. have not forgotten about red sun either. also this lettymia (maybe it's gen, idk) lompoc years foster care a.u. i've been toying with for a while... ...and finally getting my stupid fucking license (crashie we are in the same boat 😭). and fixing my potassium levels and NOT DOING ANY MORE EXTENDED FASTING!! at least not after these next few months. and applying to postgrad fellowships. and a legal memo about a specific kind of chatbot for my job lol

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE tagging everybody even those of you who haven't been on here in a hot minute but hi @omegatual @billys-pilgrimage @jenluvr2001 @acequidwrites @imdreamingwiththestars @indignancies @siewmai @purrtyhatemachine @imaginemnu no pressure ever~

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oh to have foxes play where I've laid to rest

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no you do not need to hold fictional characters "accountable". they are not real.

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If you're reading this...

go write three sentences on your current writing project.

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I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.