i want people to know i’m struggling but i don’t want people to know i’m struggling do you see my problem
Places of Middle Earth #9: Rivendell
"In all the days of the Third Age, after the fall of Gil-galad, Master Elrond abode in Imladris, and he gathered there many Elves, and other folk of wisdom and power from among all the kindreds of Middle-earth, and he preserved through many lives of Men the memory of all that had been fair; and the house of Elrond was a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, and a treasury of good council and wise lore."
(The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age’)
As silly as this may sound, I really wish I could visit Rivendell. I’d probably get lost on the way but if I made it there, if it was a place I really could get to, I would never want to leave. (And sometimes my heart hurts knowing that certain things cannot be real no matter how hard I wish for them to be and I get really emotionally upset about it.)
It’s not silly. I told my mom when I was a kid that I was going to grow up to be an elf and live in Rivendell, it’s real to me, damn it…
(I am also a firm believer in checking the backs of wardrobes and closets, but thats a personal problem…)
My goal is to be very, very cute but also very, very spooky
when I commit to a person, I FUCKING COMMIT. if their depression, anxiety or life comes knocking, you bet your ass i’m at the door with a double sided axe waiting for a good fight.
you cant expect people, to always be happy, even if they are in love. because life doesn’t stop for anyone. But you can be there for the good fight.
my god why can’t everyone be like this
I like selfies because I am in complete control of how I am being presented that is powerful like boys on facebook laugh at the “stupid girls taking mirror selfies” and media mocks “generation selfie” but maybe that is because girls are controlling how they are presenting images of themselves to the world and that is scary to them
This is a really good point, damn.
A parents sacrifice.
This killed me
this actually made me tear up
Reblogging again because this is so real.
reblogging again during this graduation season, just shows a pursuit of education isn’t just for the student
(Marginalised Orientations, Gender Alignments, and Intersex)
- a blanket term referring to everyone who isn’t a dyadic cisgender heterosexual and heteroromantic person.
- it’s shorter, more inclusive and easier to pronounce than LGBTQIAP+
- not a slur like “queer”
There are a LOT of really great scenes in How to Train Your Dragon 2 but this is the one that had the most impact on me and FOR GOOD REASON:
- It’s such a sweet and genuine song first of all.
- It’s sung, at first, by this HUGE masculine viking who spent the better part of the first movie being super cold and distant, leaving his emotions at bay. Now he’s allowing himself to open up and express his feelings and that’s totally okay woah!!
- Along with that his movements around Valka are slow and gentle, allowing her to either reciprocate or walk away. He never grabs her or tries to shove her right back into their relationship. He’s aware of how much time has passed, of her guilt, so homie’s playin it cool.
- But yeah, ultimately SHE’S the one who agrees to the dance and picks up the pace and it’s SO GOOD to see both figures treating each other with so much love and respect.
- Even better is that both parties are ADULTS, the mom and dad figures of the film series. Adults get written out or ignored so often in children’s movies, either by being dead throughout the entirety of the series OR by only showing up at key moments. Both Valka and Stoic are essential to the film, as is their relationship and Valka’s reason for leaving.
- Did I mention how sweet and genuine the song is? Damn near every romance song in a kid’s film is built up to some schmalty love anthem but HTTYD2 takes a quieter, more human approach.
This isn’t even touching on the little details Dreamworks’ adds to their facial expressions and their movements and gosh everything here works so wonderfully please watch How to Train Your Dragon 2
in the iliad helen speaks the last lament for hector. the only man in troy who showed her kindness is slain—and now, helen says, πάντες δέ με πεφρίκασιν, all men shudder at me. she doesn’t speak in the iliiad again.
homer isn’t cruel to helen; her story is cruel enough. in the conjectured era of the trojan war, women are mothers by twelve, grandmothers by twenty-four, and buried by thirty. the lineage of mycenaean families passes through daughters: royal women are kingmakers, and command a little power, but they are bartered like jewels (the iliad speaks again and again of helen and all her wealth). helen is the most beautiful woman in the world, golden with kharis, the seductive grace that arouses desire. she is coveted by men beyond all reason. after she is seized by paris and compelled by aphrodite to love him against her will—in other writings of the myth, she loves him freely—she is never out of danger.
the helen of the iliad is clever and powerful and capricious and kind and melancholy: full of fury toward paris and aphrodite, longing for sparta and its women, fear for her own life. she condemns herself before others can. in book vi, as war blazes and roars below them, helen tells hector, on us the gods have set an evil destiny: that we should be a singer’s theme for generations to come—as if she knows that, in the centuries after, men will rarely write of paris’ vanity and hubris and lust, his violation of the sacred guest-pact, his refusal to relent and avoid war with the achaeans. instead they’ll write and paint the beautiful, perfidious, ruinous woman whose hands are red with the blood of men, and call her not queen of sparta but helen of troy: a forced marriage to the city that desired and hated her. she is an eidolon made of want and rapture and dread and resentment.
homer doesn’t condemn helen—and in the odyssey she’s seen reconciled with menelaus. she’s worshipped in sparta as a symbol of sexual power for centuries, until the end of roman rule: pausanias writes that pilgrims come to see the remains of her birth-egg, hung from the roof of a temple in the spartan acropolis; spartan girls dance and sing songs praising one another’s beauty and strength as part of rites of passage, leading them from parthenos to nýmphē, virgin to bride. cults of helen appear across greece, italy, turkey—as far as palestine—celebrating her shining beauty; they sacrifice to her as if she were a goddess. much of this is quickly forgotten.
every age finds new words to hate helen, but they are old ways of hating: deceiver and scandal and insatiate whore. she is euripides’ bitchwhore and hesiod’s kalon kakon (“beautiful evil”) and clement of alexandria’s adulterous beauty and whore and shakespeare’s strumpet and proctor’s trull and flurt of whoredom and schiller’s pricktease and levin’s adulterous witch. her lusts damned a golden world to die, they say. pandora’s box lies between a woman’s thighs. helen is a symbol of how men’s desire for women becomes the evidence by which women are condemned, abused, reviled.
but no cage of words can hold her fast. she is elusive; she yields nothing. she has outlasted civilisations, and is beautiful still. before troy is ash and ruin she has already heard all the slander of the centuries; and at last she turns her face away—as if to say: i am not for you
New Zealand-based photographer Holly Spring has stumbled upon a foolproof formula for capturing beauty: whimsical scenery, a realistic blend of photography and digital art, and her remarkable, one-handed daughter, Violet.
Spring recently shot a striking portrait series of 4-year-old Violet, who suffered early in life with Hirschsprung’s Disease and is missing her left hand. The series has rightfully gained recognition for both its composition — which earned Spring the NZIPP/Epson Iris Portrait Creative Photographer of the Year award in 2014 — and its positive message. While Violet may not be fully able-bodied, Spring said she wants her to understand her limitless potential.