Beau Taplin (via vvedis)
This! This! THIS! A thousand times this!
I’ve always been a fat girl, I was a fat girl, I’m a fat woman. And my Dad saw me going out to a party once, and I was wearing hot pants, purple hot pants, really ill advised. And I was about to leave the house, and my dad saw me, so he called me in and asked me to sit down.
And I thought, “Euh, I’m going to get ‘The Talk’ now, the “get home early” talk.
But he said, “Okay, you’re wearing very short shorts”, and I said, “Yeah, that’s what you do”, like ‘you’re the fool’.
And he said: “Yeah, well, wearing those shorts they way you are is going to attract a lot of attention, from a lot of men.” So that slightly dumbfounded me. And then he said, “Listen, you deserve all of that attention, because you are a beautiful princess. You are the most beautiful girl at that party and you deserve that attention. But, because you are the most beautiful girl there, you must the choose the right boy. Do not give your attention to the wrong boy.
And never, never, think yourself other than absolutely fantastic.
So I went out that night feeling like a Queen, and I didn’t talk to any boys, because they didn’t deserve me.
|—||Dawn French (via jillbiden)|
I had the opportunity to pick up some broken pieces of glass and put them together to make something whole and lovely. I cut my thumb in the process, but it was a worthwhile project. It felt a lot like how life is.
from XXII by Adrienne Rich
When suffering finds its way to us or us to it, may we rest in our identities as your beloved children, and through that understanding trust that we are not alone. And when those who suffer find their way to us or us to them, may we create a safe place for them to sit down and weep, and help to ease their suffering. Help us to not give ourselves away to the brokenness of our world, but rather to give ourselves over to your grace, peace, and perfect love.
I am royalty. The crown on my tooth is proof. For some, silence is golden, but for me it is the lifting up of my voice. For when I speak, my words brush off that golden crown tucked behind my smile, and they come out dipped in gold.
That is to say my words are precious. That is also to say they are heavy.
It is costly to speak.
Is it any wonder that it is exhausting to heave out these words from the vault that is my heart? Any wonder why I hesitate to offer them to you should you mistake our conversation for transaction instead of gift?
It is indeed costly to speak, but I want that vault door to be sprung wide open within me and to empty myself of my riches. (They’ve never been mine anyway.) I have an opportunity to be generous when others are not so fortunate—I will not fail them for fear of debt.
The sharing of my story is the wisest investment in the kingdom that I can make. And so I will.
Thieves, no longer will you rob me. No longer will you rob us.
Jessica Williams KILLED it last night talking about street harassment.
This is important
that last one
I am reading Night by Elie Wiesel. It’s required for a class I’m taking in the fall—God, Evil and Suffering. I haven’t even made it out of the preface and already I’m crying. I’m crying because I learned that the Nazis threw infants into fiery ditches while they were alive.
(I paused for a good long while—and still not long enough—when I read that truth for the first time.)
I’m crying for those babies. I’m crying for the eleven million murdered in the Holocaust—five to six million of them being Jewish. And I’m crying for all sorts of atrocities that continue today..
I’m crying for the 273 school girls who were kidnapped by Boko Haram Terrorists in Nigeria on April 15th. I’m crying for the unaccompanied children at the U.S. southern border seeking safety and refuge from drugs, violence, and trafficking in their home countries. I’m crying for the continued violence in Gaza. I’m crying for the beheadings of Christians in Iraq by ISIS terrorists. I’m crying for Michael Brown, and for all of the Michael Browns who have been killed, and for all of the young black men who make their way in this world fearing they could be next. I’m crying for the people I know and love who have been victimized by violence.
I’m crying because there are a gazillion atrocities occurring every second of every day in every corner of the world that I am not aware of. That my life can and does go on while the lives of others do not. I’m crying because I’m grateful my life has gone in spite of the violence I have experienced.
I am crying. I am praying.
I have no answers. I have only faith. And it is not enough. And yet… It is everything.
I do believe God is in the violence—not in the violence itself, but in the despair and ache and suffering it produces. I believe that God is present with those who have been and who are impacted by it. I have faith that God is at work for good in the midst of all the bad. I have faith in resurrection. I have faith that Jesus didn’t just go to hell and back for us, but that Jesus goes to hell and back with us. I have faith in the power of forgiveness and in the power of loving one’s neighbor. I have faith.
I am crying. I am praying. And I have faith that the Triune God hears me, and that my cries and prayers matter, and that yours do to.
Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.
"It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding."
-from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak-
An open call to action to ALL artists everywhere!
Announcing WORLD ART DROP DAY on September 2nd
All artists, (that means students and professionals, painters and cartoonists, sculptors and illustrators, animators and fine artists, EVERYONE who creates) this September 2nd is World Art Drop Day. Wherever you find yourself that day, drop a piece of your art and tell someone where to find it. The world needs this right now. We need to feel a little more connection to each other and there’s nothing like the bond two random strangers can make through the act of creating and giving.
I recently just finished a cross-country art drop this summer and it was exhilarating. The emails and responses I received from the finders ran the gamut of funny to touching. I want that for everyone!
Here’s how it works:
- Draw a picture and hide it somewhere.
- Take a photo of either the art or the hiding spot or a combination of both.
- Post the image, the city you dropped it in, and a hint on any social media of your choice. Be sure to included the hashtag: #artdropday
- Then move on, hoping someone finds it. OR hang around and meet your new friend.
I need your help spreading the word on this. Reblog it, retweet it, facebook it, or even tell someone in person!
September 2nd, lets connect the whole planet with art!
We think comics and illustrated poems will probably count, too.
I LOVE THIS!