#seeing when the other is hurting

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

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[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[hajihiko]

It runs in the family

[teaboot]

tranny freak :)

[valtsv]

when a character says "please don't do this" and they're begging: 🥺

when a character says "please don't do this" as a warning:

[apollos-olives]

i've been thinking about this for months but honestly i think no one knows how to interact properly with palestinians. we've already gone over the whole "parasocial relationships with palestinians are bad" thing but then there's the other issue of just using palestinians as news outlets. so many people followed me because i was talking about palestine and educating people on tumblr about palestinian culture and that's literally all they use me for. they don't care about me as a person, as an actual human being, who has a life outside of just talking about palestine online.

i notice when no one interacts with me outside of that. i notice when no one treats me like a person with likes and dislikes and hobbies and interests. no one really interacts with my personal posts that talk about my day-to-day life. no one really cares about it when i share about my work, my school, my family. no one cares about seeing palestinians as people with real lives. they only see palestinians as history books, or news channels. they only share our posts and our stories when it relates to the occupation. i've posted hundreds of small posts about my life and my struggles and my celebrations and my activities and no one cares. and i'm not demanding anyone to care, but it does tell me that people only follow me for the information i can give them, and that they don't follow me because they actually really care about me as a person. people see me as a news outlet. as an object. just an information machine. and i've seen this happen to other palestinians on here as well, not just me.

palestinians have lives. we have personalities. we're just normal people who are undergoing genocide. the best way to comfort those in need is to befriend them and let them know that you care about them. yes, please donate, please advocate, please keep boosting palestinian voices and sharing palestinian news. but also please talk to us!! treat us as people!! we have likes and dislikes and hobbies and personalities and we're human beings just like you!! please treat us more kindly and interact with us outside of just the genocide. we want to be treated as humans. only following palestinians for news and education and nothing else plays a part into the dehumanization aspect of the genocide. we just want to be treated like normal human beings.

i've seen this happen to other palestinians on this site and other places as well. i've had several discussions about how people don't interact with us unless it's about the genocide. it's really isolating and makes us feel as though no one cares about us as individuals with different beliefs and personalities. we just want people to actually care about who we are as people outside of our oppression.

[sunlit-mess]

consumed by the inevitable

[royaltea000]

Been binging the 1986 series again and drew my ver in some of his slays

[partfae]

when elrond finally sailed i like to think that he saw celebrían waiting for him on the shore and leapt from the boat, splashing through the waves until he could run to her, unable to bear even another moment apart.

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

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[boygirlctommy]

i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"

[bertoyana]

X-MEN: DAYS OF THE FUTURE PAST (2014)

[dykedvonte]

Jimmy only commits his worse moments when he’s alone with each individual character.

It’s implied he corners Anya in her room. He brutalizes Curly when everyone else is busy under the guise of medicine. He convinces Daisuke to go into the vent when Swansea can’t stop him. He kills Swansea after everyone is dead. It really highlights the type of violence he commits. He is a coward, he won’t take his chance if there is a possibility of active conflict, yet, he jumps on the opportunity to do so when there’s no risk. Not just when there’s no one to stop him but when he knows there’s no one to witness it. To judge and directly call out his faults.

No one outside himself to really see him as the monster he would never admit he is.

[wistfulwatcher]

bau members + near death experiences