SERPENT D’OCÉAN

-SAINT-BREVIN-LES-PINS, FRANCE

Given its location on the shore, the Serpent D’Océan can be seen as a strangely living creature rising from the ocean waters or a purposefully preserved skeleton held above the shallow waves depending on the level of the tide upon a given visit. But despite the changing tides, fantasy, art, and horror have rarely been so steadfastly intertwined. 

Learn more about the aluminum skeleton of Chinese mythology emerging from a French shore at Atlas Obscura
steadfastly

phur tshugs su - intensely; steadfastly, ardently, firmly, with ardor [RY]

phur tshugs su - intensely, steadfastly, ardently, firmly, w ardor, piercingly, [mind/ eyes] fixed on [IW]

phyir mi ldog pa’i smon lam chen po thebs pa - resolved steadfastly never more to be reborn in samsara [RY]

dmigs - intention of the mind, see, visible, visualization, imagination, frame of mind, mind on one point, consciousness, idea, attainment, perception, acceptance, concentrating steadfastly, concepts, fixation, visualize [JV]

maryftwchester said:

dean being one of those nervous mother-types when he's pregs with his first kid: always thinking 'what if' and telling cas they cant burn any incense in the house, steadfastly avoiding fish, and when the baby's born, boiling her bottle and pacifiers between each use. with his second kid though: "babe, can you check on [baby no. 2], i think he's chewing on the dog's toy" bc obvi they have a dog and probably also three cats at this point

cas buying cute maternity blouses for dean once dean starts to show * u *

after much pleading and arguing and make up sex during dean’s first trimester, they decide to name their baby “anna marie” after anna and mary ; u;

yeah but dean buyin all those cute lil baby books and making cas read to dean’s tummy at night before they go to bed so their baby knows cas’ voice when they’re born (dean already spends all day talking to baby when cas is out in the garden or farmer’s market)

dean calling his momma up for advice during his pregnancy and them meeting every sunday to bake and eat and spend time together and dean looks at mary with admiration bc dang this lady popped out two of these suckers what a HERO and mary smiling knowingly when dean checks his phone to respond to cas’ last message bc those two dorks are so IN LOVE

rexy you need to nOT

Banna Drabble Fest A-Z

LILY

John sat in his chair, legs spread and hair mussed. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his back soaked in sweat although he had long ago discarded his waistcoat. He rarely if ever let himself get this disheveled, but he had never experienced a day like this before. His wife was upstairs giving birth to their first child and he was here in the sitting room trying not to go insane.

He listened to his wife’s screams and cries and wished he could do something, anything, to help her. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. How must Anna feel?

His mind wandered over the past few months and how they had struggled to find a name for the child. Anna insisted it would be a boy and steadfastly refused to entertain any girl’s names. John had responded with just as much fervor that it would be a girl. They had decided whoever was correct would choose the name.

He had almost drifted off when he heard the most piercing scream yet and then silence. He leaped from his chair and held his breath until he heard the cry. The cry of his child. A few minutes later Mrs Hughes came halfway down the stairs, “Mr Bates? Your wife and daughter will see you now.” The smile on her face was that of a proud grandma.

John bounded up the stairs despite his knee. He burst into the bedroom and made immediate eye contact with Dr Clarkson, “Don’t worry, Mr Bates,” he smiled as he wiped his hands, “your wife and child are fine. The baby is perfect.”

"Just like her mum," John smiled as he approached and kissed Anna. He looked at his daughter and then smirked back at his wife.

"Go ahead, John," she teased tiredly, "you might as well say it. I know you’re dying to."

John chuckled and responded, “it’s not that often that I’m right and you’re wrong Mrs Bates. You must let me enjoy it.”

Anna held the baby out toward her husband, “Would you like to hold her you silly beggar?”

John took his daughter in his arms for the first time. He kissed her forehead and ran his finger across her tiny hand. She gurgled and John had tears in his eyes as he said, “Hello Lily…I’m your Da.”

the reason i’m so shaken by this is informed by a few related things that coalesce into this reaction i’m having… 

robin williams is someone who children grow up with in their movies. he sparked my interest in performing arts, and as i got into my preteen years and saw his less early-childhood-targeted work, it’s that stuff that made me think that sticking with my music lessons and staying in theatre might be worth something. like i specifically remember appreciating things like jumanji in relation to believing that performing arts could be worth something

and then when i was a teenager going through mental health issues, knowing that someone i had been a fan of for so long had his own and realising that he was still struggling with them, and overcoming them, was important to me… idk i just. celebrity deaths like this, related so closely to personal struggles, upset me so much. i just want everyone to be ok, i want my childhood heroes and especially those that stuck so steadfastly with me beyond my childhood to be ok and knowing that they are often not is hard

Photographers and viewers of photography tend to support “sensitive” and “tasteful” documentary style work, a fact that reveals, among other things, our guilt and discomfort looking at truly difficult work.

The guilt isn’t entirely unwarranted, both because of the facts of poverty and marginalization in America and because of the history of how cameras have been used. The colonialist history of white men travelling to colonies “owned” by their countries and photographing the “natives” was, and is, troubling in part because of the power imbalance between subject and photographer—a dynamic sometimes made obvious by the lack of clothing on the subjects. The work was sometimes used by colonialists and Christians to show the “potential” of the natives, to be civilized, colonized, Christianized. These extreme historical cases are helpful because they clarify a dynamic that to a limited extent, still exists.

Today, the tradition of photographers making somber, dignified portraits of poor people—the clichéd yet steadfastly popular kind where we are meant to interpret the dignity of these kind but struggling folks through their bright, crisp eyes—needs a reconsideration. Not only is this type of work uninteresting; it is actually offensive. Its aesthetic agenda is to pronounce, in a heavy-handed way, a judgment of goodness on its subject (i.e. “look into the eyes of this kind man; do not judge, for he is poor but good; he is your equal”). Traditionally, this has been a safe, widely condoned documentary strategy, but it is ultimately uninteresting—and unfaithful to the complexity of reality—to wrap people up into such a neat package of comprehensibility. Furthermore, this strategy is founded on two faulty premises—that the photographer knows his/her subject well enough to claim his/her dignity, and that the photographer has the ethical authority/superiority to make a judgment of goodness. If there is any kind of photography that recalls the colonialist-Christian mission, it is this.

To photograph people in a less controlled and controlling way is not only more interesting, it’s more faithful to reality and more appropriate given the complexity and unpredictability of people. Perhaps the most offensive thing a photographer can do is to make a simplistic image of another person, an image that is easily interpreted, therefore denying the subject any complexity. It is a sign of progress and of a largely-reconstructed culture that we are so sensitive to behavior that in any way reminds us of our ugly past (with regard to our treatment of minorities and the poor). But another sign of progress would be a culture that allows for the possibility of ambiguity, difficulty and contradiction in its documentary work.
—  Gregory Halpern, “On Documentary Ethics" (2013)

i got cute dark red lipstick today and cute leggings and those crop top?? tube top?? things so i can show off my tummy and cute shoulders and also real bras not sports bras but femme bras that are cute n shit im wearing a pink plaid one right now

today was a good day

The answer to all humanity's problems is both simple and complex

Simple in that all we have to do is start loving and respecting each other, despite our differences, and to each purposely work towards the common good rather than just our own; as opposed to making an easy virtue out of whatever benefits to others happen to sprout from our own self-concerned pursuits.

The second, more complex answer is the incredible, inefficient and sometimes cruel and violent contortions we must put ourselves though to keep our societies propped up, because we steadfastly refuse to do the first.

Day 7 of #yogapartypeople is my Patchimottanasana, a #workinprogress . When I’m practicing Bikram in the hot room, I come so close to touching my head to my feet. Sometimes even to the point of frustration because I’m so close! But I’m reminded that there was a time when I couldn’t even reach my toes, so for this #workinprogress I am thankful. “A yogi starts each day a new. Every morning we set our intention for the day. We live that day and then we are done with it. Some days we reach our goals, some days we do not, but in the end we steadfastly accomplish our intentions.” ~ David Yglesias @bexmaddy @namastechante @yogawithkarel #yoga #fitness #forwardbend #patchimottanasana #bikram #bikramyoga #hotyoga

The Moon was blessed with borrowed light and never did the Sun ask for reward. But instead the Sun gave its shine to the moon with blessing to make it its own. This is the selfless egoless nature of the most powerful luminous force. To bless the world with illumination even in the dead of night. So with tears streaming down my face, I say thank you to Bellur Krishnamachar Sundararaja Iyengar, Mr BKS Iyengar for lending your light, for showing the world your wisdom and helping us to understand yoga. Thank you for all of your work, your teachings are timeless and will ensure the world will still be blessed with shining come nightfall after you’re gone. My heart is broken. To all of my dear friends who are mourning today, my love and thoughts are with you. Let us honour this greatest teacher by walking steadfastly along the path. #yoga #iyengar #bksiyengar #yogi

Some Things Don't Change || Fili & Bilbo

On occasion, Fili found himself wishing for some piece of his world before Rivendell, before Bree. Days like that found him on the edge of the Shire, watching the hobbits with a small smile. Fascinating people, he had decided a long time ago, who deserved more credit than they often got. He figured that Bilbo was well, still hale and whole despite what they had put him through.

The green door of Bag End beckoned to him, but he steadfastly ignored it, knowing he couldn’t do anything to reveal to their burglar that he and his brother and uncle still lived. Sighing, he dropped his head to his hand and stayed that way for a few moments.

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