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Newsom saw so many parallels between [the legend of Ys] and her own that it freaked her out. There were the themes of decadence and excess, of fathers and daughters and boundaries burst, not to mention details like the meadowlark and the heroine’s underwater metamorphosis. Then Newsom stumbled across the clincher: according to Breton folklore, on calm days along the coast you can hear the sunken bell of the cathedral of Ys, tolling evermore. Later, as Newsom finished the fantasy novel, she stumbled across yet another uncanny echo of her own tale: a line that spoke of “that damnable bell,” a direct sample, as it were, from “Sawdust & Diamonds.” ��To me that seemed like the craziest coincidence,” says Newsom. “It seemed like a confirmation, a chiming confirmation, that all was at it should be.” Such synchronicities had ghosted her throughout the project, as the interwoven stories of her convulsive year became even more bound together in her lyrical retelling of them. That, of course, is one of the gifts of the creative imagination: a sort of gratuitous grace that can shelter us from the gaping sky, an excess of meaning that is capable of redeeming the mess we’re in without denying how fucked up it is. Many of us have sensed a secret logic working through our lives, and at first Newsom resisted it. “I fought angrily against seeing particular types of poetic organization because it seemed awful to see my own life and these actual events in that way. But when you put forth an intention into the universe to speak a certain truth and narrate a certain period of your life, you start to see the sorts of symmetries that you are not usually supposed to be able to see until you are on your deathbed and your life flashes before your eyes. And you see exactly why everything happened. And even the most painful things you’ve ever been through can seem unbearably beautiful.”

(via parksandwreck)

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kay-rasmus-nielsen-

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epic thread

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I hope we can form a community where a woman can speak up about abuse and not suffer another abuse by not being believed and instead being ridiculed. That’s why we don’t speak up — for fear of suffering twice, and for fear of being labeled and characterized by our moment of powerlessness.

Lupita Nyong’o for The New York Times (via valyriansword)

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“My savior who came to ruin my life. My Tamako, my Sookee.“

The Handmaiden (2016) dir. Park Chan-Wook

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Little boy about to receive a dog for his birthday (1955)

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Finished it!

Plz don’t repost!

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Woonyoung Jung on Tumblr

Print Shop

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Women who are beyond done with all of this shit.

(via)

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period drama + sea (requested by anonymous).

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Why Do Animals Like Capybaras So Much?

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Princess Mononoke ( もののけ姫 ) Hayao Miyazaki

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