Saw A Tiktok Of A Mother Taking Her Very Tiny Daughter To An Art Museum And She’s Just Walking Around

I’d divorce him too lmao

Oh ok so it turns out ive been borrowing grief from the future ! it turns out ive been preparing to lose the things i love rather than basking in the light of them while they last. Maybe i should nt do that

I’m putting together a book of all the short comics I’ve drawn over the past year to have for sale at my spring conventions! Not sure what the title will be yet, but the uniting themes of all the stories seem to be Girls and Magic.

I drew this selkie comic really fast and it bounced all around tumblr which was cool, but the messy lettering and simple coloring bugged me so I cleaned it up a bit. 

Your parents can love you and still be shitty abusive parents. They can mean well and still fuck up. They might fuck up without even knowing it's abuse.

Sometimes I think about how, when I was 5, my dad would make grilled cheese sandwiches and cut them into dinosaur shapes for me. Other times when I was hungry, he would refuse to feed me at all, because he decided that 5 was old enough for me to cook for myself when he didn't feel like doing it.

I think about how he taught me to swim, and fish, and (yes) throw a ball. In the summer, at night, he would wrap me in a huge comforter and carry me around outside to show me the constellations. But I hated being left alone with him because he was often bad tempered, mean to me for no reason, and I couldn't count on him for basic things like food.

Sometimes I think about how my mom raised hell in my high school principal's office in front of multiple faculty members because they weren't complying with my IEP (disability required accommodations). She always saw red if someone else laid a finger on me, even figuratively. When we were at home she screamed at me for things I had no control over and said I was using my illness to get my way.

I think about how she bought me art supplies and paid for lessons for all of my hobbies. She attended every single concert, performance, and game. I don't think I went a day without being told she loved me while growing up, and she constantly told me how proud she was. But I could never trust her mood and she could go from loving mother to terrorizing me before I knew what was happening.

My parents love me but I still flinch if someone in my vicinity washes a dish a little too aggressively. My parents never intentionally traumatized me, but my nervous system never knew the difference. Neither of my parents saw anything they did as abuse; they believed they were good parents. It wasn't until my mom was in her mid 60s that she grasped that her own childhood had been abusive, too.

They're not bad, irredeemable people. They're complex people with a lot of their own trauma who lacked many skills necessary for good parenting. I could hate them for it, but I don't. I'm not obligated to forgive them, and I don't think I have, and I don't know whether I ever really will. My parents damaged me a lot in ways that have affected my whole life, and I still have good memories with them.

Girl what do you mean there’s a goal to sex? You’re literally naked, get a grip

Something I keep repeating over and over again.

You must cultivate your relationships.

It sounds silly. It sounds like something that should be common sense. But I feel like I have had to tell so many people that you need to give as well as be open and recieving.

Your relationships with the Divine (and anyone) must be tailored gently. "I saw this thing and it reminded me of you" so you send a link or a photo to someone you care about? Yeah that principle applies to the Divine, too. A rock. A photo. A piece of art. You bring them.

You also sit and talk. Have a coffee. Have a drink. Water. Dinner. You share a meal. You hold conversations. You hang out and bask in an afternoon setting sun and admire the birds.

If you are not doing this, That's why your relationships with the Divine feel flat and empty. It is not just about going through the motions, lighting a candle, offering incense. It isn't just about routine and saying the words. Your work with the Divine isn't your 9-5 job. And it doesn't deserve the same cold detachment you treat your job. It isn't to pay your bills. It's for spiritual and personal enrichment and growth.

via @swatercolor [insta]

the ides of march is taking place at the white house this year

from your friendly neighborhood librarian:

all books are good books.  you are not a “lesser reader” if you only read manga or comic books or a “better reader” for reading academic heavy texts.

reading is reading no matter what it is, be it a graphic novel, a romance, a classic, an audiobook, a picture book, a cookbook, fanfiction, fucking whatever, read what makes you happy

reading is supposed to be fun and don’t let elitism sap any joy out of it