life is better in the garden

Today my mom told me a kind of funny story. Yesterday she called me and said she lost her new glasses which cost over $500 to replace. She cannot afford another new pair of glasses and is only eligible for a free replacement every five years. She said, “Looks like I’m blind for five years.” 

With hopes of seeing their return, she said she was going to pray to St. Anthony. She also said she would give up temporarily drinking, though her day yesterday was crummy, if it meant she could be reunited with her new glasses. This is the type of Catholicism I have observed my whole life from my parents - their bartering of habit for favor, or enactments of self-betterment as a sort of public-spiritual practice. St. Anthony is the only saint I can remember praying too and one of the few whose patronage I understand. 

Today while my aunt was gardening she found my mom’s glasses. My mom determined this was a combination of her own efforts and saintly grace. She told me she was going to drink two beers tonight (maybe toasting to the Saint) and that “the universe does not run out of ways of working.” Obviously how my mom uses religion is opportunist but I do not think it is empty, just treating vision with sacrifice. This treatment is kind of optimistic, surrendering to a faith away from dwelling, toward a semi-mystical trust supported by arbitrary breaks in daily habits. I have not lost anything recently but there are some less arbitrary things I would like to find. The universe, I guess does not run out of places for opportunity as I am sure, there are saints for better jobs and romantic love. I think it is on my end, as it was with my mom, to create an earthly way of working against waiting, or overthinking about things and perhaps find a new saint, who does not hear so much from my family. 

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
—  Ralph Waldo Emerson
7 reasons why solarpunk is the most important speculative fiction movement in the last 20 years
  1. It’s hopeful. Solarpunk doesn’t require an apocalypse. It’s a world in which humans haven’t destroyed ourselves and our environment, where we’ve pulled back just in time to stop the slow destruction of our planet. We’ve learned to use science wisely, for the betterment of ourselves and our planet. We’re no longer overlords. We’re caretakers. We’re gardeners.
  2. Scientists are heroes again. And not just physicists and astronomers. Knowledge of biology and earth sciences matter, they’re the building blocks for a future on Earth. Scientific literacy isn’t just for academics – it’s part of daily life. People know how the things they use work, and if they don’t, they can access that information. 
  3. It’s diverse. Solarpunk is rooted in using the environment, so it looks different in different places. Alternative energy is best when specific to place (I imagine geothermal, wind, tidal, and hydroelectric energy sources are still used in certain places) so no overarching government system is needed. Communities can organize themselves, taking their own location and needs and history into account. Brazilian, Inuit, Egyptian, Pacific Northwest, and New Zealand solarpunk can all look very different, but be unified in resourceful, intentional, low impact living.
  4. Individuality still matters. In a post-scarcity society, ingenuity and self-expression are not sacrificed on the altar of survival. With solar power there’s no reason not to go off grid, if that’s what you want to do. Communities can self-organize. You can find a community that suits you, or go live by yourself if that floats your boat.
  5. There’s room for spirituality and science to coexist. Solarpunk is rooted in a deep understanding and reverence for natural processes. There’s room for spirituality there, be it pagan, Buddhist, Sufi, Transcendentalism – anything. There’s so much to explore, from nature worship to organized monotheistic religions, and how they interact with solarpunk.
  6. It’s beautiful. The most common solarpunk aesthetic is art nouveau, but again there’s room for diversity, incorporating art styles from multiple cultures in respectful, non-appropriative ways. The most important aspect of solarpunk aesthetic is the melding of art and utility. The idea of intentional living is strong in art nouveau, but it’s not the only art movement with that philosophy.
  7. We can make it happen. Now. Earthships. Permaculture. Aquaponics. Algae lighting. Compostable products that turn into fields of flowers. Buy Nothing organizations. Tiny, beautiful, efficient homes. Solar power cells you can see through. That’s all happening now. Solarpunk is within our grasp, at least on a personal level. I’m not saying there aren’t still big, ugly infrastructures devoted to unethical consumption, but we can start to tear them down. We can build a solarpunk world with stories and small changes. And small changes lead to big changes. That’s the real beauty of solarpunk. It’s not a post-apocalyptic power fantasy. It’s not a wistful daydream, or an elite future only for physicists. It’s something we can work towards right now. It’s tangible.

If you are in a place, doing something that doesn’t make you happy, find the courage to leave and start over with something that does.

Tell me who you’ve been seeing; even if I have never heard of them–that will be all the better. I try to invent you for myself, but find I really have only 2 twigs and 3 straws to do it with. I can get the sensation of seeing you–hair, lips, colour, height, even, now and then, the eyes and hands, but I find you going off, to walk in the garden, to play tennis, to dig, to sit smoking and talking, and then I can’t invent a thing you say–This proves, what I could write reams about–how little we know anyone, only movements and gestures, nothing connected, continuous, profound.
—  Virginia Woolf in a letter to Vita Sackville-West, 7 September 1925
“Do I want kids?”

For @carryon-countdown: Moms. 


I’d like to just have one, I think.

One child will be enough, because it will be

my child.

They’ll have a silly middle name, like Scrum

or Snow.

You should always have a funny middle name,

it makes life more funny.

I’ll take them to the gardens, and they will

love the rosebuds as much as I do.

I will raise them to make the world a better place,

to fight for what is right.

I will teach them to dance, laugh,

and not take life too seriously.

They will have my hair and Davy’s nose and

they will never feel like they don’t belong.


Not as long as I am alive.


I never do things by halves.

I want at least five, and I want them now.

Martin doesn’t know it yet, but we will be

the best parents.

I will teach them to stand up for themselves,

they will be the most powerful thinkers.

They’ll chase after knowledge, and 

look out for their own.

Lucy’s child will be silly, I’m sure, so

my children will need to look after him.

I’ll have a theme, as far as names go.

It’s orderly that way.

I’ll name them all after cities, or perhaps 

they’ll have names that all start with P.


That sounds just perfect.


I will not have children as soon as I graduate.

I have things to do,

I have a school to run.

I have all the time in the world.


when I do,

I will do anything to keep them safe.

They will have Malcolm’s composure and my strength.

I will feel fire in my child’s magic.

Our heritage will be in the brown of their skin,

the line of their nose.

They will be a Pitch, through and through.

And, if I am not there to see them grow,

I hope they will find someone

to hang the moon for them.

I hope they will

carry on

carry on

carry on.

the PAULyamorous ❤ PAULrus 💁🏻‍♂️ has visited u 💦💦💦 Goo goo 🥂 g'joob! 🍾 Send this 📲 to 🔟 other 🥚Eggmen 🍳 or the joker 🤡 will laugh at you 😂😂😂 If you get 0️⃣ back you’re a loser 😒😒😒 If you get 1️⃣ back you’re going to lose that girl 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ If you get 2️⃣ back you’re only half the 👼 you used to be 🍳🍳🍳 If you get 4️⃣ back you better run for your life 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ If you get 5️⃣ back your ❤ will get a ticket to ride 🚃🚖🛴 and they won’t care 🙅🙅‍♂️ If you get 6️⃣ back you’ll get by 👌 with a little help 👍 from your friends 👯👯‍♂️ If you get 7️⃣ back you’ll get high 🚬🌴🌳🌲 with a little help 👍 from your friends 👯👯‍♂️ If you get 8️⃣ back you’ll feel fine 😏😏😏😏😏 If you get 9️⃣ back you’ll get a taste 👅 of honey 🐝🍯🐝 If you get 🔟 back Paul McCartney will cropdust 🍑💨 you in an English garden 🌷🌹🌻🌼🌲 waiting for the sun ⛅️🌤☀️ if the sun doesn’t come you’ll get a bottle 🍾 of Paul’s 🍑💨 to use as perfume 👃💕 from standing in the English rain 🌧☔️

any gardener will tell you that tending plants can teach you many, many lessons that you can translate to your everyday life.  to be observant, to try to anticipate problems before they occur, how to deal with problems and come up with creative solutions… gardening teaches you about patience, timing, action, etc… 

however, when i look at my cacti and succulents i keep in my home, i remember the valuable lessons that they have taught me unlike any plant i have kept in my summer garden.  

that, sometimes, to be nurturing, to be a real caretaker, means letting things be.  the lesson that omission is an action.  inaction is an action.  withholding water, letting the plant sit in its dry soil, letting it search for the few drops of moisture it wants, is better than regular “care” and watering, like other plants need.  the succulent leaves seem full to bursting with water, dark green and happy with life, but that is only when i care for them by “not” caring for them.  

makes me pause and think about how adaptable we have to be in our approaches to love and interpersonal relationships.  not everyone needs the same kind of “care” to bloom and be healthy… we are all programmed to need different kinds of care… in varying amounts…

Originally posted by thisiskayleigh

ayyy build a community garden ayyy have a collective living space ayyyy share skills with one another ayyy trade clothes/other items ayyy try and live your ideas in your daily life ayyy build a world where our goals are more palatable to the common person ayyy doing something small is better than doing nothing ayyy

I love this trend of Tumblr posts that’s like “Love yourself…but check yourself.” because it’s important to remember that yes, you are a special snowflake, but you also need to remember that everyone else is just as much of a special snowflake, with their own unique reasons why they’re special, and you shouldn’t be shitty to them if you don’t want them to be shitty to you.

Why A Bookstore?

Why open a bookstore?  Why do it in Prospect Lefferts Gardens?  Why do it now?  What does it mean to open an independent bookstore in an urban neighborhood in the fall of 2016?

We’ve obviously thought about this a lot – over the past year or two, and more intensely in the last few weeks.  To take on a project this big we’d better have a pretty good reason for it.  On one level, we think it’s a good business model; we know how to make it work, and it gives us and our employees a pretty good quality of life.  But there are easier ways to make a living, which any of these talented folks could do if they wanted.  So why this?

The more we consider it, the more it seems that one of the primary things that we do as booksellers is to make space.  

To turn a white box of a retail store into a bookstore, we commission shelves and tables as places for books.  We make space on those shelves for stories, ideas, instructions, images, experiments and wonderlands and difficult theories and passionate language and transcendent art and goofy nonsense – a big chunk of the collective human experience, all these words and pictures by which humans communicate with other humans.  You could probably order any of these books in the imaginary space of the digital. But making physical room for them, letting them jostle each other and pile up in beautiful stacks and come under a customer’s hand unexpectedly is something different.

We have plans for events in the new bookstore, from free story times and book groups to panel discussions and book launches.  When we host an author in the bookstore, they have the chance to encounter their readers in real life, and readers have the chance to interact with the human behind the words in a way that’s not possible anywhere else. Again, you could read interviews online and listen to podcasts and even email an author, but being in a room with a creator in real life is something different.  And the conversations we host onstage are sometimes big ones – about the state of the world, about how we live together, about the past and the future, about individual experiences and their implications for understanding great truths.  Making space for these conversations is one of our biggest responsibilities, and we know that enormous things can happen in that space.

And primarily the space that we create is for people.  Unlike almost any other kind of retail, a bookstore is a place where people can hang out whether or not they’re buying something.  They can strike up a relationship with a bookseller who shares similar tastes.  They can chat with a neighbor who is perusing a book they love (or hate).  They can mingle at book parties and banter at the front desk and whisper in the corners.  They can have conversations with fellow humans, in a space that isn’t work and isn’t home – it’s a third space, like a bar or a barbershop, with the books and the authors there to give context to the day-to-day interactions.

There are spaces in the world that are not welcoming, and not safe. There are spaces that feel exclusive to people of a particular income bracket, or a particular ideology, or a particular gender or sexual identity, or a particular ethnicity.  There are voices that want to unmake spaces, to wall out, to silence, and to disappear.

A bookstore is the opposite.  A bookstore is an answer. A bookstore is a welcome.  It is a space for books, for people, and for the conversations that happen when books and people come together.  We think this kind of bookstore, in this kind of neighborhood, at this particular time, is exactly what we want and need. So we do it – because making space with a bookstore is the best work we can do.

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded
—  Ralph Waldo Emerson
Chasing Cars (Dean Ambrose x Reader)

More Dean fluff yas I literally love writing it. Like, if I could it’s probably all I would ever write, sorry not sorry. This was requested by anon for Chasing Cars, originally performed by Snow Patrol. This version is the Sleeping At Last version, like the one they used in Grey’s Anatomy. Gonna have to say I like this version better than the original, oops. Enjoy!

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The History of a Muse

Originally posted by psychocheery

*I won’t say it’s my best, but I am trying to get back into the groove of things. Requests? xoxox*

You had spent most of your days in the past seven centuries exploring art galleries, and you were proud to say you had yet to grow tired of it. Art had always fascinated you. It spoke to you. No wonder you had found yourself drawn to Klaus.

“Y/N, I shouldn’t be surprised that you are popping back up in my life.” You turned around, a smile drawn across your lips as you came face to face with the devil himself.

“Oh relax, Nik. I’m not here to cause trouble. I never have seen New Orleans’ Sculpture Garden before,” you responded as he stepped closer to you.

“Then I guess it won’t be polite of me to escort you there.” He offered his hand, which you gladly took. Klaus could be barbaric at times, but he knew better than to be any less than a gentleman with a lady like yourself present.

As he escorted, you couldn’t help but think back to the first time Klaus ever offered you his hand. It was in the late 1350s, before the New World had even been discovered, and you almost instantly fell in love with him. Klaus must have felt the same because not long after, he turned you. Where you saw the painter in him, he saw a muse in you and decided to give you eternal youth.

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