Do you ever see people whose faces echo another era?
I’ve seen women with the round faces, sparse brows and high foreheads of medieval illuminated manuscripts.
Men with dark brows that meet in the middle, olive skin, strong noses and jaws–Byzantine men, ghosts of Constantine, reanimated faces from the Fayum Mummy Portraits.
Women with soft figures and the large eyes and prim, petaled mouths of the 19th century.
Grizzled men whose brows predicate their gaze, whose wrinkles track into their thick beards and read like topographical maps of hardship and intensity–the wanderer, the poet; Whitman, Tolstoy, Carlyle.
Faces sculpted into the perfect, deified symmetry of the pharaohs–almond eyes, full lips, self-assurance 3,000 years in the making staring at you at a stoplight.
Plump, curved white wrists curled over purse handles in the waiting room and you think Versailles, Madame Pompadour, Marie Antoinette, Catherine the Great. Wide cheek bones, courage and sorrow in the scrunched face of the old man in line behind you and it’s Geronimo, Sitting Bull, Tecumseh. Reddened skin, thick forearms, hair and beard and brows burned by the cold into a reddish corn silk and you think Odin, the forge and the hammer and skin stinging from the salt of the ocean.
Virginia Woolf’s quiet brand of gaunt frankness surveys you in passing in the parking lot. Queen Victoria’s heavy-lidded stare and beaked nose are firmly, uncannily fixed on a sixth-grade classmate’s face.
Renaissance voluptuousness on the boardwalk by the beach. Boticelli’s caramel androgyny in a youth smoking on a bench outside the mall.
Jazz age looseness spurs the tripping gait of the man who watches you paint with his hands in his pockets, and he smiles a Sammy Davis Jr. smile and tells you that you look familiar, that he’s sure he’s seen you somewhere before, but he doesn’t know where or when.
“I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”
ah to be 14 in your high schools GSA and we all have short or dyed hair, wearing large hoodies, same fashion sense of flannels/black leggings/graphic tees, we all wear the same thick framed glasses…
if you ever looked like this once in your life i want you to know that i love you devistatingly so you are my bretheren and our kinship is stronger than anything else
I don’t want a sugar daddy but can I have like a sugar auntie? Just a sweet old woman who gives me money cus she knows I’m going through it and she believes in me and her grandkids don’t ever call so she writes me in her will.
This woman is named June Ayres and she has owned and operated Reproductive Health Services, which is currently the only clinic in Montgomery, Alabama, for about 30 years. May I suggest that you donate the price of that beer to The Linda D Foundation, which helps Alabama women afford reproductive services including birth control, emergency contraception, and abortion services? http://alabamareproductiverightsadvocates.com/thelindadfoundation/
This gifset is from an incredible documentary called Trapped. You can find or organize a screening or stream it for free here: http://www.trappeddocumentary.com/
It’s seriously an amazing movie about some amazing people.
This woman’s casual level of “Fuck You” herosim is exactly what I aspire to be in life.
Seriously please consider donating to the National Abortion Federation. Not only do they do provide access to abortion providers and funding help for people who need abortions, they also actively work with lawmakers and legislators to convince them to fight to protect abortion and the right to have one.
I just watched The Conjuring 2, and while it’s on my mind in a similar vein to this post, I also want to spread some appreciation for Javier Botet because GOD DAMN LOOK AT THIS SHIT
He has Marfan Syndrome, which is a rare connective tissue condition that gives him bizarrely elongated limbs and allows him to do unnatural things with his body, and he’s built quite a resume for himself appearing in horror movies
Like Doug Jones, he also appeared as three of the ghosts in Crimson Peak:
But you may have also seen him as The Crooked Man in The Conjuring 2:
Eddie’s leper in IT:
The Nina monster in all three REC movies:
Set, the God of Death in The Mummy (2017):
The titular creature in Mama:
He did motion capture work for the Xenomorph in Alien: Covenant:
And he most recently appeared in Insidious: The Last Key and the Slender Man movie!!
He’s done other more obscure horror movies too but basically this guy is adorable and inspiring and an amazing talent and I adore him 8D
Had the opportunity and fucking owned it
Imagine your niche skill is ‘my body moves in eldritch and unfathomably terrible ways’ and finding a way to make a successful career out of it
This National Park Just Shoots Poachers to Protect The Rhino Population
Kaziranga National Park has been successful in the conservation of rhinos — to protect the fellow critters, its workers will shoot and even kill a potential poacher. To date, the park has killed 50 people.
As I get older I’m finding that a lot of the “intellectuals” I used to admire are actually just condescending and pretentious. And also realizing how much more important it is to be present, considerate, and empathetic because nobody really knows what they’re talking about and anyone who claims to know everything about anything is feeding you bs.
“When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.”
- Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
I am also realizing that actual intellectuals make their subjects easy to understand, and faux intelectuals will attempt to baffle.
“If you can’t explain it to a six year old, you don’t understand it yourself.”
