“Borgen Aftonfrid” (Rough translation is Castle of Evening Peace) in Sjölanda, Sweden. This house whas built by John A Ekström by and by as he collected stones during walks in the forest. He longed for a peacful place to write his poems about nature.
Contributed by Helen Niklasson.
The Moor King
Detached fresco transferred to canvas, 190 x 65 cm
Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan
A lot of people have been asking for more information on sources for paintings I’ve been posting in this thread, so I thought I’d add some info on artists and subject, as such is available.
Too bad :(
No. I know it’s temping, but don’t. Murdering somebody for their orientation is wrong.
A new Evolution Series locomotive being transferred from GE Transportation’s test track to BNSF tracks for pickup.
massive paper to write but would rather masturbate
Adults asked a bunch teens how they Internet. Here, a 15-year-old female tries to explain the appeal of tumblr. [via pew pdf]
Yes, we did. View the full report here, complete with some neat infographics and interactive data explorers: Teens, Social Media and Privacy
RIP Elijah Harper 1949-2013: Iconic First Nations leader who said ‘no’ and changed the course of Canadian history (x).
In 1990, he held up an eagle feather in the Manitoba legislature and voted no to allowing the Meech Lake accord to come to vote. His opposition was viewed as a key moment in the accord’s eventual fall. Harper felt First Nations people were not being recognized in the constitutional process in a meaningful way:
“The problem is we, as Aboriginal people, have not been dealt fairly, and also the governments have not dealt with the aboriginal issues the way we would like them to have. I think we have always been dealt with as second-class citizens and aboriginal nations are not a priority for first ministers and governments across this country.”
His family released this statement.
“He will have a place in Canadian history, forever, for his devotion to public service and uniting his fellow First Nations with pride, determination and resolve. Elijah will also be remembered for bringing Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people together to find a spiritual basis for healing and understanding. We will miss him terribly and Love him forever.”
He was a hero among First Nations people who helped power the movement for Indigenous rights and equality. His legacy continues to inspire Native people across Canada today. He was a true example of being “Idle No More” over 20 years before the movement’s birth.
Wah-chay and meegwetch, Elijah Harper.
During the Rwandan genocide, when neighbors killed neighbors and friends betrayed friends, some crossed lines of hatred to protect each other.
At the time of the 1994 Rwandan genocide, the Mufti of Rwanda, the most respected Muslim leader in the country, issued a fatwa forbidding Muslims from participating in the killing of the Tutsi. As the country became a slaughterhouse, mosques became places of refuge where Muslims and Christians, Hutus and Tutsis came together to protect each other. KINYARWANDA is based on true accounts from survivors who took refuge at the Grand Mosque of Kigali and the madrassa of Nyanza. It recounts how the Imams opened the doors of the mosques to give refuge to the Tutsi and those Hutu who refused to participate in the killing.
Because I spend so much time now in a very professional, gender normative work environment, I have to remind myself that I love weird people, I am weird, I want to be weird, and being normal is truly horrifying. I’m thinking of that experience of seeing someone on the street or on the bus who is working some kind of weird, non-normative look and feeling some delight and relief, like the person’s existence is making space for you. I have often felt that way when I see other visibly queer or visibly trans people, or other kinds of rule-breakers. It’s beautiful to see people taking those risks and its wonderful to have those moments of mutual recognition with a stranger in the midst of a hostile world.
Dean Spade (Queerture: Q & A With Dean Spade)
I remember when I got out of the system for the first time. I’d been in this closed world. Where either I was at home with my parents, or in some kind of institution, or in special ed, or in day programs. So my entire interaction was with disabled people of some sort or another — usually some combination of mental illness and developmental disability (the mental institutions and special ed I was in were mixed psych/DD usually, and I was usually considered both myself), and also physical disability sometimes.
Then suddenly I was out in public.
Around mostly people who either weren’t disabled, or you couldn’t tell they were.
And it was like culture shock.
I couldn’t take it. I kept expecting people to be making unusual sounds, moving in unusual ways, talking to themselves, breaking out in screaming fits. And nobody was doing it.
And it was very uncomfortable and felt like there was no place for me.
And whenever I saw another disabled person, especially someone behaving in ways that would get them labeled with a mental illness or developmental disability. I was so happy. And felt like maybe there was a place in the world for me after all. P
I didn’t know this, but I moved like that too. I didn’t look normal. I’m told this by people who knew me at the time. That I firmly believed I looked normal, but I very much didn’t, to the point that even though I could sometimes speak, people treated me as “low functioning” a lot of the time, or thought I had an intellectual disability. That’s only gotten more extreme with time, but apparently it was quite apparent even back then.
So what would happen.
Is other disabled people would was up to me on the street and start talking. They always spotted me and wanted to have a conversation. I never understood why I was being singled out, because I didn’t know I looked different myself. And I didn’t even know it was weird that so many disabled people walked up to me and started talking, all the time, whenever I went out.
Except I went for a walk with a friend.
And after awhile, she turned to me and asked “Do this many people always walk up and talk to you in public? Because that isn’t normal.”
It took me years to realize they were having the same reaction to me, as I did to them. They knew I was one of them and they wanted to feel less alone. And I was a fairly good listener, in that I was passive and would let people talk to me endlessly about anything, whether it “made sense” in typical terms or not.
Anyway there was a long time when if I saw someone disabled, I would feel so happy. Like I wasn’t alone out in this strange world where everyone acts normal and thinks the rest of us don’t exist. Pretends we aren’t there. Ignores our presence, wishes us gone. It meant something to me that there were more of us.
In this case it wasn’t usually people making a choice. It was people, like me, who couldn’t pass even if they wanted to. So it wasn’t like we were making a brave choice to show ourselves, it was more like we had to, whether we wanted or not. But still. It meant a lot to me that I wasn’t alone in a world of people who all behaved the same. And I must have had the same effect on others, given how people reacted to me.
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