“Because Without Our Language, We Have Lost Ourselves. Who Are We Without Our Words?”

If you like enemies to lovers filled with all the best tropes PLEASE go watch this show🙏🏼

I felt like it was my civic duty to let you all know

Not all heroes wear capes ✌️

Every time you look up at the stars, it’s like opening a door. You could be anyone, anywhere. You could be yourself at any moment in your life. You open that door and you realize you’re the same person under the same stars. Camping out in the backyard with your best friend, eleven years old. Sixteen, driving alone, stopping at the edge of the city, looking up at the same stars. Walking a wooded path, kissing in the moonlight, look up and you’re eleven again. Chasing cats in a tiny town, you’re eleven again, you’re sixteen again. You’re in a rowboat. You’re staring out the back of a car. Out here where the world begins and ends, it’s like nothing ever stops happening.

‘Lost At Sea’ by Bryan Lee O’Malley

More super sweet work by Gyo Fujikawa

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I’m again at a loss for words, and turning to those who know better. I keep thinking of Gloria Steinem’s dedication in her memoir, ‘My Life On The Road.’ I had the honour of listening to her speak about this book when she came to Melbourne in 2016. Her dedication is still one of the most perfect and fierce I’ve ever read:

‘THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO:

Dr. John Sharpe of London, who in 1957, a decade before physicians in England could legally perform an abortion for any reason other than the health of the woman, took the considerable risk of referring for an abortion a twenty-two-year-old American on her way to India.

Knowing only that she had broken an engagement at home to seek an unknown fate, he said, “You must promise me two things. First, you will not tell anyone my name. Second, you will do what you want to do with your life.”

Dear Dr. Sharpe, I believe you, who knew the law was unjust, would not mind if I say this so long after your death:

I’ve done the best I could with my life.

This book is for you.’

✊❤️

Star-crossed lovers ✨ Decided to do one last reylo art for the last day of 2023, Happy New Year!

We would have babies and get fat and quit drinking and not spend every waking moment together. We would turn up to events for which we had accepted invitations without texting absurd excuses. We had grown up. It was an essential part of letting go, deciding which ribbons of the past we wanted to tie around our fingers and which were best left on the maypole. I could weep for the unfairness of it all now. For the necessity in closing the door on the travelling salesman of youth. I could weep with such fondness for us all.

- 'You'll Be Sorry When I'm Dead' by Marieke Hardy