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my toxic trait is never tracking my periods so every 28 days i gaslight myself into thinking the world is ending when the pms symptoms hit me like a freight train

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Knights kissing

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this is the funniest overlap to me. elsa killed those guys

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Blodeuwedd, born of magic and flowers In Welsh mythology she is conjured from flowers to be the wife of Lleu, who is cursed to never marry a mortal woman, but when she falls in love with another man and conspires to kill Lleu she is turned into an owl so that she may never show her face in daylight again. Prints

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Gillian Hills | The Owl Service (1969-1970)

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when rhiannon met blodeuedd

concept art for a developing story, rewriting the magic of y mabinogi

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It also takes art to restore old paintings that look like scabs...

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chilling in a hoodie and sweatpants and armoured breastplate, gauntlets and greaves

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I’m Gonna Be (500 miles) is honestly just such a pure, solid good song. The lyrics are cute af and actually resemble a long-term committed and happy relationship and to top it all off you can scream ‘DAHDADADA’ and the top of your lungs in a pub and someone will scream it back to you. 

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genuine question — how is donating money going to help Palestinians if no food is going in? What is the money for?

Medicine, water, supplies, food, fuel (much of it black market being upsold at egregious prices) — these all cost money and pretty much all Palestinians in Gaza have no source of income now. It’s drops in the bucket compared to ending the siege and occupation but it’s one way to do at least something small to help. Others are in need of money to evacuate when the border opens again (which hopefully is asap…), tuition and supplies for school to continue studies despite it all. Another fund is focused on trying to rebuild farmlands in Gaza to get food again that way.

I can’t tell anyone what to do with their money but I don’t think this mindset of “well nothings going in so we can’t help” is helpful for people on the ground who are the ones saying that donations can and do help them survive.

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NGC 6357 also known as the War and Peace Nebula is a large star-forming region and emission nebula located in the constellation Scorpius, approximately 5,800 light-years from Earth.

Credit: Mark Sansom

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This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.

e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.

I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.

This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.

And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.

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Khaled Marwan | The Muse