#the white point

[dansnaturepictures]

29/08/2023-Lakeside and home

Photos taken in this set: 1. A nice moth that came into a moth trap we did last night. 2. Yarrow out the front. 3. Mugwort on my Lakeside lunch time walk. 4. White-point moth. 5. Acorns on my way to Lakeside, I enjoyed seeing these at Lakeside too on a day I enjoyed oak. 6. A beautiful and dazzling Brimstone moth, we had more than one in the trap a distinctive moth I had enjoyed seeing before this was my first home sighting. I was pleased to see this one. 7. A gorgeous Shuttle-shaped Dart, a fascinating new moth for me. Seeing this alongside a few other new ones and firsts for the year made my moth year list my highest ever, the fourth of my five year lists I've reached this point with this year with the other (my dragonfly and damselfly year list) being my joint highest ever total which I am thrilled with. 8. An adult Great Crested Grebe at Lakeside, I enjoyed great intimate views of it and its calling chick which was a key moment on the walk with others seen. 9. Dogwood, great to see flowering and berries I do enjoy this in the late summer/autumn. 10. View on a lovely lunch time walk.

Other moths seen from the trap were Vine's Rustic again after last night, my first ever Lesser Yellow Underwing and Pale Mottled Willow, Large Yellow Underwing, a stunning Willow Beauty and my first Square-spot Rustics of the year I do love these. A fun activity that we've not done before doing a trap and I think we'll do more. Some fine views of Small White and Speckled Wood were highlights at Lakeside, with Common Darter and a pretty Long Hoverfly seen too. I was fixated on a cheery flock of Long-tailed Tits with Chiffchaff and Great Tit mixed in whilst in the southern fenced off area, with Blue Tit possibly seen too and heard in the garden today. Blackbird, Carrion Crow, Magpie, Woodpigeon, Moorhen adult and young, Mallard and great views of Lesser Black-backed Gull and soothing Wren heard feeling springlike funnily enough as I heard it for a minute were other Lakeside highlights. Cress and dock out the front, giant broad-leaved clovers at Lakeside, knapweed, thistle, ragwort carpeting the place nicely, fleabane, bird's-foot trefoil, lady's bedstraw, my first self-heal for a little while, water mint, great willowherb, purple loosestrife, yarrow, a wealth of rose hips and hawthorn berries were great flowers seen at lunch time. Collared Dove, House Sparrow, Jackdaw, the immersive sight and fluent calls of Starlings and snails on the balcony were good from home sightings today.

[holographings]

70s loumandaniel sandwich for @/DarkishGrey302 on twt <3 <3 <3

[mod2amaryllis]

adding something to my "adult advice that i had to discover for myself either because no one told me or when i saw adults do it as a kid i couldn't possibly understand," featuring such hits as "grill sandwiches with mayo" and "almost no quality matters more than flexibility," and it is:

clean your house before a vacation because returning to an already clean house is waaay better than sex

[pangur-and-grim]

I'd say he's grown somewhat since February!

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[bixels]

“America has no culture” is an inherently racist statement. Especially when talking about California, which has enormous populations (yes, plural) of Hispanic and Asian immigrants.

It’s such a self report that you see the American hegemony, the American monolith, as a singularly white entity that’s worthy of scorn. I want that person to look at the Black American NYC Miku design and tell me with their full chest that that isn’t culture. Especially when modern pop culture owes so much to Black American culture — hip hop, language, streetwear and fashion, pop music, jazz — as is actively erasing their roots, saying all of America has no culture is a dumbass statement.

Also, “all the US Mikus are dressed in generic casual street style for coolish weather.” The original Brazilian Miku is wearing sunglasses, a crop top, short shorts, a bikini, and flip flops you absolute dunce. If you’re gonna be rude at least be consistent.

[lyss-butterscotch]

The art of violence

[polin-erospsyche]

I love the difference between Pen and Colin. She’s loved him for years, silently but unwavering. While he’s just come to the realisation that somewhere along the line he’s fallen completely head over heels for her and he is UNHINGED about it. All I’m saying is Colin wouldn’t last a minute in the asylum where they raised her.

[felinefractious]

Arabella Beauchador of Bluepeaches

🐱 American Shorthair

📸 Blue-Peaches Cattery

🎨 Sable Silver Classic Tortoiseshell Tabby Sepia Bicolor

[im-here-homie]

a happy audience is the key to the academy's heart

shadow milk design by @catxolotlquoise

[aaaaaaafrogs]

Finally finished my most ambitious Hatchetfield project yet. Every box in the border represents a different Nightmare Time, as well as Hey Melissa, Trail to Oregon, Workin’ Boys, the BBQ monologues and Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel. The three large boxes at the bottom represent the three main musicals. It’s 18x24” and made with sharpie :]

[dansnaturepictures]

13/08/2023-Shipton Bellinger and home

Photos taken in this set are of: 1. The White-point moth, another lovely moth to see at home this morning. 2. Common crimson-and-gold moth at Shipton Bellinger, an eyecatching species to see joining in a great surge in moth sightings for me especially this weekend. 3. Wall Brown, it was an honour to get to see these vibrant and energetic butterflies so well again after seeing our first of the year here two weeks ago. Today was one of our best ever days for seeing them with a fair few seen and top quality intimate views of them with wings open and closed they were widespread around here. It's funny to think I was worried as to if we'd see one this year after missing them at the coast where we often see them, this place is certainly a gem it's been a revelation for them, we first came here for Brown Hairstreak but Wall Brown is an important one here too. Unusually for Wall Brown I got great close up chances for photos today and it's a novelty seeing a species I mostly have at the coast inland, so even though this is one of the first butterflies I (retrospectively from a photo) ever identified early in butterfly days there feels something pleasingly fresh about seeing them here. 4. A Brown Hairstreak it was an honour to see again today, I spent some glee filled moments with this astonishing and angelic butterfly, what an honour to see them. I hadn't seen one of these until 2021 so there is a great freshness with these for me too and I feel very lucky to have had two visits here seeing these beautiful butterflies this year. 5, 7 and 8. Views at Shipton Bellinger. 6. One of a few bees I enjoyed caked in pollen on the bold woolly thistle flowers. 9. Some hawthorn berries on a tree. 10. Wild parsnip one I enjoyed a lot today, with interesting flies on.

At Shipton Bellinger it was also good to see Holly and Common Blue, Gatekeepers, Small Heath, Green-veined White, Speckled Wood, Peacock, ermine moth I believe Spindle ermine, ladybird, Common Red Soldier beetle, prominent mossy rose galls which I'm enjoying appearing of late, beautiful Roesel's bush cricket and my first ever Lesser Hornet hoverfly which is gorgeous. Magpie, Carrion Crow, Woodpigeon, Great Tit and Blue Tit were nice to see too, with Collared Dove which I took a picture of somewhat photobombed by a flying House Sparrow which was interesting, Goldfinch including young and seen well and intimately in the garden whilst I had my hair cut there Starlings seeing House Sparrows in the buddleia then also home bird highlights today. My first Morning-glory Plume moth of the year was also nice to see at home with four-leaved pink sorrel and other flowers enjoyed in the garden. Other highlights of the many flowers enjoyed at Shipton Bellinger were my first soapwort and goldenrod of the year, some more mugwort this week, viper's-bugloss, eyebright, red bartsia, rosebay willowherb, centaury, common toadflax, loads of wild basil again, knapweed, scabious, herb-Robert, hedgerow crane's-bill and melilot. Another brilliant wild weekend.

[ryllen]

god forbid yuu to eat when grim & sebek are competing on food °˖✧o🌭(⁰▿⁰)🌭o✧˖°

[lover-of-mine]

#which could mean nothing

inspired by @stagefoureddiediaz 💙

[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.

[cuppajj]

i had a vision