nature with all its wonders

I did some outdoors sketching during a brief glimmer of sunshine, but the on-flowing mysteries past the broad river-bend were barred by a beaked guardian.

anonymous asked:

Hey so when you started rp did you have any prior acting experience? Or did you just pick it up through your rp? I ask because i work a lot with actors and you have some amazing skills just wondering if its all just natural talent :)

(( OOC: I started acting in Jr. High and joined a productions company in high school. :) Haven’t really had a chance to act since then, so this has been fun, and I definitely feel like this blog has helped me practice and improve quite a bit, which has been nice to see. *bounces* :D Also, THANK YOU! )) 

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During the day, everything seems normal. At night, this beach turns into something out of a fairy tale.  

By day, this beach in the Maldives islands seems like any other tropical paradise. By night, however, the beach turns into another world thanks to the bioluminescence from the phytoplankton known as dinoflagellates in the water.

The ethereal blue glow is caused by a reaction between the dinoflagellates’ cell membrane and electrical signals. 

No magic, no chemicals, just nature in all its wonder.

This is a kind of love that not many
others understand. 

You call her Cinderella,
like she is a miracle for simply existing.
Like she is miracle for still growing,
for still being kind, for still caring.
Like her softness is a natural wonder
all on its own.

She calls you Ariel,
as though she is a whole new world
that you never thought you would
be a part of.

As if you both wear the other’s
heart like a goddamn crown.

The first time you kissed her she 
gave her body to you with a quiet,
desperate sort of surrender. The first
time she kissed you, you smudged
your lipstick on her lips, her cheeks,
her eyelids, and she laughed into your mouth.

How clumsy this love is.
How innocent.

How beautiful, how tender, how soft.
You, mermaid with a tail full of forgiveness.
Her, princess with a body full of forgetfulness.

—  FOR THE GIRLS WHO LIKE GIRLS by Darshana Suresh
Callout post for all sapphic girls

Sapphics are Problematic and I’m going to tell u why:

  • lesbians are all amazing goddesses sent here straight from Artemis herself to grace this earth
  • bi girls are literally incredible and all radiate like brilliant suns with unending poise and beauty?
  • pan girls are literally Incredible and Amazing and are all so strong and incredible and ethereal tbh like how??
  • ply girls are like,, The Most Gorgeous and they are all so intelligent and funny and every single one is so gifted
  • wlw without labels are all like warriors commissioned by Athena to protect and love and also be badass af
  • questioning sapphics are wonderful Fairy Nymphs who give nature all its beauty and are responsible for every flower ever
  • trans wlw are like angelic mermaids who are so caring and protect all the sea creatures

Anyway y’all have been warned do not approach any sapphic unless you are prepared to fall in love immediately and forever with them bc they are so amazing don’t ignore this message sapphics are dangerous!!!

“Speaking of technical achievements, however extraordinary, they may be only wonderful to those who have no knowledge of the mechanism or agents linking the effect to the cause. To be truly wonderful there must be about the manifestations observed an element of mystery which the human race has not yet fathomed. That inanimate matter should run into organic forms must be considered a wonder, because we have not yet ascertained why and how this is brought about.”


“The human being is one of the greatest mysteries of nature and consequently a wonder. And so is life in all its manifestations. But a time may come when all the subtle and involved processes that are part of our living existence will be laid bare and understood, and then the element of wonder will be removed.”


–Nikola Tesla


“Great Scientific Discovery Impends.“ Sunday Star, Washington D.C., May 17, 1931.

Rome, 1888 (oq au)

my fifth entry for the @oqpromptparty, friday. 
199. Robin & Regina meet & fall in love in their 50’s. 
ff.net


He was in Rome since, merely, a week, and he was already in love. Not with a woman – it was entirely too early for that, although his caring nature could have eased one’s way in his heart and gained his affections. He was in love with the city…

His cousin, Margherita, had so kindly proposed an Italian escapade – at her place, she’d written, in a morning letter, to mellow his gloomy mood and cheer him up, for he was too shamefully sad and she didn’t think it was wise nor healthy, too brood after his late wife.

Marian had died after an exhausting sickness which the doctors couldn’t treat. Their son of thirty, Roland, had come back from America – a long trip by boat, he’d missed the funeral, but said he wanted to be there for his father. Robin had relished his grandchildren’s love, children he’d seen for the first time. But Marian and his memories were craved in his heart, and staying there in the very same house where they’d created those memories was simply too much. Roland had soon noticed the deterioration of his manners, patience and moods.

Margherita’s invitations had come one day, as he was having breakfast with Roland and his wife Grace. Come here with us, Margherita had written, this air and this sky will do wonders for your mind, you’ll go back as a new man.

So Italy it was. A long journey, preceded by the goodbyes to Roland and his family, the hugs with his grandkids and his daughter-in-law. He’d given orders for the house to be looked after while he was gone. The servants had splayed white cotton pieces of fabric above tables and sofas, and some of them had gone to work elsewhere, as he didn’t know when he’d be back in England. Margherita and his husband had welcomed him with kind words and a behavior that was – maybe – a bit too coddling for his liking. As if he were a convalescing man, they’d lower their voice when passing ext to his room on the first day, until he’d asked them to stop, that he wasn’t sick, he was melancholic.

But then, Rome had bloomed in autumn, and the season of dancing and great meetings had reopened. It was lively, the capital, and Margherita’s house was in such a perfectly situated place, that he’d fallen for blue skies, the nearby fountains and the roman ruins.

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But what about human nature? Can it be changed? And if not, will it endure under Anarchism?

Poor human nature, what horrible crimes have been committed in thy name! Every fool, from king to policeman, from the flatheaded parson to the visionless dabbler in science, presumes to speak authoritatively of human nature. The greater the mental charlatan, the more definite his insistence on the wickedness and weaknesses of human nature. Yet, how can any one speak of it today, with every soul in a prison, with every heart fettered, wounded, and maimed?

John Burroughs has stated that experimental study of animals in captivity is absolutely useless. Their character, their habits, their appetites undergo a complete transformation when torn from their soil in field and forest. With human nature caged in a narrow space, whipped daily into submission, how can we speak of its potentialities?

Freedom, expansion, opportunity, and, above all, peace and repose, alone can teach us the real dominant factors of human nature and all its wonderful possibilities.

Anarchism, then, really stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion; the liberation of the human body from the dominion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. Anarchism stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals for the purpose of producing real social wealth; an order that will guarantee to every human being free access to the earth and full enjoyment of the necessities of life, according to individual desires, tastes, and inclinations.

This is not a wild fancy or an aberration of the mind. It is the conclusion arrived at by hosts of intellectual men and women the world over; a conclusion resulting from the close and studious observation of the tendencies of modern society: individual liberty and economic equality, the twin forces for the birth of what is fine and true in man.

—  Emma Goldman

Expectations can kill a simple man

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10x11 "There's No Place Like Home"

Dean's Struggle Against the Mark and
the Urge to Have A Drink - Part IV/IV

I am still torn about how I want to read this scene. Mainly because the two readings are almost polar opposites.

That shot is not only the last shot of the episode, but also the last shot to concentrate on the struggle Dean faced this episode about giving in to his darkness and aligned with that to drinking. With this shot we revisit the shot from the beginning of the episode in which Dean’s hands shake because he is holding a weapon and the mark and him are remembering what is possible if you give in or lose control.

Now given that it is revisting this shot from the beginning, there is a difference. This time Dean’s hands are still and that fact, I can see explained in two very differeing ways.

1) Based on how they shot this scene - with light streaming in from above, which is a major difference to Dean’s room which doesn’t even have a window to let natural light inside (which btw is a wonderful metaphor all on its own), there is the possibility that Dean’s hands are still, because in some way he might have learnt how to control himself and the mark a bit better and prove  to him that he is far from a lost cause or weak, but someone with willpower.

2) Dean’s hands are still, because the mark got in part what it wanted or rather the part of Dean that gets lost in the darkness and loves that feeling was fed enough to stay silent for a while by Dean beating up Dark!Charlie. If that was the case, it would mean the absolute opposite to reading 1, because then the mark won.

At the moment I am unable to tell for sure, which reading is more supported by the look on Dean’s face. At the moment for me it could go either way.

What gets me most about this scene however though is how he is looking up. I’m sure I’m not the only one, who had to think of something very specific here, something that was made a point last episode. But to say it out loud: Yes, to me Dean looking up to the “sky”, sending a question upwards (“Will I be okay?” for example) might not have been a formal prayer, but something like a silent confession and cry for help. I’m pretty sure someone got the message…

Some days you just need to walk with nature & let it do the talking. You’ll find yourself more relaxed, refreshed & filled with new wisdom that goes beyond words.
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Pamela Gallegos is a person standing behind all the beautiful artworks of Pom Graphic Design. She’s a Peruvian Artist born in Miami. She creates her art with pencil, oil markers, acrylics and rapidograph to include digital as she has an accomplished career as a graphic designer in the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale.

Pamela has been inspired by different cultures, like the Inca one, travels and art movements. Her art focuses on natural elements, not only floral but animal as well, and ethnic motifs. As her works are so colourful and vivid, she communicates in this way life and forces of nature in its abstract form.

All the wonderful colours and shapes she mixes in her artworks show her own and very personal vision of a world in which different cultures, dreams and patterns mix: “My work is a mix of handmade and mixed media, with a combination of vibrant colours, organic shapes and of course elements of nature, which are my number one inspiration.”