#Literary and Visual Arts

[max11237]

Errant Destinations (Jewish Women in the Americas)2024(for free)

Description:

Errant Destinations is a collection of nine literary chronicles in which contemporary Chilean-Jewish author Andrea Jeftanovic reflects on travel in its multiple variations, with reference to diverse fields of study, including references to cinema, literature, and the visual arts. Jeftanovic transforms travel into an art form, inviting the reader to participate in literary and geographical encounters in foreign places such as the tunnel that unites Sarajevo bombarded during the Balkan War; the diffuse maritime delineation between Chile and Peru; an organization for relatives of victims of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict; the hidden corners of Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector’s characters; the hotel room in Cienfuegos where Castro stayed in two distinct historical moments; an

[starscreamingg]

Okay I'm so sleep deprived so pardon whatever this is but something that's got me FUCKED up about ai generated pictures songs writing is that it just fucking kills the ability to analyse for me because there's no fucking INTENTION behind it. Like why was this decision made why were these colours used what does that say about the work NOTHING because a bunch of programming took work that DID have intent and theme and purposeful choices and turned it into SLOP. Like I COULD analyse this but it doesn't MEAN anything it's EMPTY I want to EXPLODEEE

[wordsnstuff]

Standing Water: Wordsnstuff Writing Challenge [in collaboration with RUNT magazine]

Welcome to RUNT Magazine. We are an indie print publication celebrating visual art, literature, and the distinctions that make us human. Our aim as a magazine is to cultivate a vibrant community that promotes exploration and creativity instead of stifling it.

We’ve put together these prompts to hopefully inspire you to submit to our upcoming issue with the theme of STANDING WATER [click link for more info!]. If you feel inclined to express yourself in a different media, we accept all forms of writing (fiction, non-fiction, essays, poetry, etc.), photography, art, or anything that moves you! There is no submission fee and we encourage you to submit as much as you like.

The deadline is December 31st, 2024 and we can’t wait to see what you come up with! Submit for free here!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Write from the perspective of a favored toy of your childhood.

If future you met present you, what would you talk about? What would you think of each other?

Your hometown has mysteriously disappeared. As you stand looking where it once stood, what memories come to mind?

You’re aging (spoiler alert). Write dual perspectives about one character who embraces that fact and one that rejects it.

You wake up in your childhood bedroom, magically a child yourself. You get to experience a Christmas as a kid again. Describe what you’ve missed about this as an adult, even down to the smells.

It’s been MANY years since you’ve stopped aging. You’ve watched friends and family pass on, never letting yourself fall in love or get attached. You spot someone that you remember from your childhood, also unchanged. Who is it? Do you say anything to them?

You’ve just discovered you were switched at birth. What do you imagine the life you could’ve had was like?

Tell a true story about your childhood. The first one that comes to mind. Maybe even the one you don’t think is even worth writing about at all.

You’ve spent decades running from the small town that labeled you a weird kid, but when you find an old yearbook and see your old self staring back at you, you realize you’ve made a nightmare of the only person who understands you. Make amends with the younger version of yourself, you were just a child.

Every morning, you sit at the same desk, doing the same work, feeling your potential slowly wither away, but you convince yourself it’s fine. What would happen if you stopped telling yourself that this is all there is?

Write the day in the life of an inanimate object that feels it is not being used to its full potential.

Write your first break up from the other person’s perspective.

Your spouse is a writer and has been incredibly secretive about their current book. It’s been published and as they’ve finally allowed you to read it, you’re slowly realizing this all sounds far too familiar.

You awake with your eyes closed, but you don’t remember falling asleep. “It wasn’t your fault,” you hear a voice say. What do you see when you open your eyes?

A once famous person reflects on their career as they slowly being to feel they are being forgotten by the public.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Check us out on Instagram.ᐟ

Submission Link

⟢ no fee ⟢ no limit on submissions ⟢ any type of writing or art medium

RUNT Website

[steinkauz-does-nothing]

whenever im thinking about stans and their relationship i end up believing in "stan fell first, ford fell harder" but with a twist.

see, stan loved ford his whole life, openly and unashamedly. he knows ford means more than just family to him (and don't get me wrong, family's EXTREMELY important to stan, but he was still willing to sacrifice everything and everyone he ever knew and loved for a chance of saving ford, including the kids). maybe it wasn't obvious for him what kind of love it was, initially, but it's always been there, something he knows he can't run away from (he tried). so it's kind of easier for him to accept this truth - why would it be anyone else if ford is everything he ever wanted?

with ford it's a bit trickier. of course, he loved stan, always did. but this love was buried beneath years and years of "hatred" and repression and focusing on the wrong things. it takes him to lose stan to finally see how cruel he was to him. and from that moment the dam breaks — he's flooded with these intense feelings of love, guilt, yearning, it consumes him, makes him reevaluate his priorities, his attitude. stan's sacrifice changes ford, and that is sudden — he spends considerable time trying to understand what exactly is stan to him before reaching the inevitable solution. and from that point ford makes sure stan knows just how much he means to him, makes sure he's never feeling alone and abandoned ever in his life, to the point where i can see him being overbearing in his affection — but it's not like stan is complaining.

and then they kiss and everything is perfect forever

[chicago-geniza]

NICKEL BOYS WAS *CRAZY* GOOD AND WORTH SEEING IN THEATERS SPECIFICALLY HOLY SHIT

[mishkakagehishka]

But honestly i do judge people who use chatgpt for their college work. Literally if you chose to study something, why would you use ai for your work. If you chose something you want to study, doesn't it feel like a waste to not do your own research and work for essays and the like.

[antlervelvetmag]

antler velvet is a new indie arts magazine that wants creators, aesthetes and consumers of the arts to submit their work for publication. our prompt for this edition is MOULT. how might you moult? how do words moult? TELL US!

[nectarof-the-gods]

A Reflection on Plath’s Tulips

"The tulips are too excitable, its winter here" -Sylvia Plath, Tulips In the stillness of the hospital, void and white, Sylvia Plath's tulips burst with an overwhelming brightness. I've always been drawn to the way Plath uses imagery to convey emotional strain. The tulips in this poem are not just flowers but a force and a reminder of the chaotic world outside her fragile but peaceful state. I can relate to her desire for aloneness in that hospital, yet those tulips forbid from letting her rest. They demand attention, they pull back Plath to life from her peaceful world when all she craves is isolation. The poem is about how we often crave the peace, yet life interrupts with its vibrancy. Do you ever feel like the world is too loud, too vivid, when all you want is silence? The tulips are a reminder of things we cannot escape, the constant pull of life, the responsibility of existence, the weight of emotions we'd rather avoid, I often find myself overwhelmed by the noise of life, craving peace and silence, only to have something bright and alive pull me back. What do tulips represent to you? Is there something in your life that, like the tulips, forces its presence when all you want is quiet? How do you cope with life’s demands when all you want is silence? What's your personal “tulip" something that brings you back to life when you want to escape? Feel free to share your own poems inspired by Tulips or similar themes. I’d love to read your interpretations and reflections.

[dildaaronkiduniya]

Openly - a photo-poetry book.

This is my first book ever in collaboration with Roshni Riar, a Vancouver based poet. All the poems have been translated to Punjabi by me.

Book can be purchased at -

https://www.guntajdeepsingh.com/shop/openly-the-book

[petitephilo]

[tropicalfreckles]

Legit if I had the money to travel I would like to go to other countries and learn about their culture, experiences and folklore. I've been obsessed with folklore in general since I was a kid when I also got into mythologies. I would read legends, fairytales, etc; and it was all awesome. I wanted to go to the countries their originated from to learn more.

[taro-pdf]

I am proud of this shark emocon thing I made

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[xxhe-m]

Arabia in Blue, Ж

ibuprofen dust, ebony ink, blue ink, torn up birthday card, unnamed arabic quote book and acrylic paint on found print board

Oct 2023

From the Series “Sharps”

Name Your Price 🪸

[thirdwednesdayorg]

Sea Otter Cove / Lucy Mitchem

Lucy Mitchem / Portland Oregon

[sunnnfish]

I hate all the pressure on artists to like. Idk. Say things? Like so much about being an artist nowadays is like marketing yourself and having like. A purpose. Like. Why can’t I be like Yume Nikki creator Kikiyama and like never say a word about my creations. Idk. It’s like. I do have motivations and stuff behind what I make sometimes but it’s soooo hard to put into words. It’s also like incredibly simple to me. It’s not that deep. There is so much pressure to have everything explained to everyone. Damn bitch just figure it out I don’t even care