these are just the tracks i use most often

crowplant  asked:

oi you make beautiful things! i don't want to be a bother but wcif all the stuff (ok i'll hold my horses) from the interior you just posted? well not all the stuff but you know some stuff that's easy to track down/you use a lot or w/e. thank you!

First of all, thank you so much! It’s not a bother at all.

That said, I’m not going to do preview pics because that’s a lot of items. I hope that’s okay!

There’s some repeats from my last WCIF, but I figured it’d be good to have all the links in one place. Here’s the sets I use the most often:

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sorin  asked:

ok now i got to ask you the same lol. What deadly sin are you guilty of the most?

Sometimes I end up giving 7 times the information needed when answering an ask. This is one of those asks. I actually have a tag for each sin to keep track of each sin haha.

Envy - Definitely my most prominent sin. I’m a very envious person. I envy a lot, I envy too much. My envy will be the death of me.
Lust - I probably don’t tag this one as often as I should, haha. I don’t really want to bring in examples but if you search my blog, there’s some pretty perverted comments I make in the tags about Nᴏctis
Gluttony - Gluttony isn’t always just eating a lot. It’s addiction to anything. Food, alcohol, internet… I may use too much of the last one.
Greed - The ironic thing is, my url is from the Latin word for greed. Otavarice. But it ranks low now.
Sloth - I’m pretty apathetic about a lot of things
Wrath - I get irritated easily, but I don’t really 
Pride - Most of my negative posts are self destructive

Framed Million Man March commemorative photo, 1995, Washington DC. Photo courtesy of Kamille Washington, 2016.

It was 1995. I had just started kindergarten, and my father had recently retired from the US Air Force after 30 years of distinguished service. He had enlisted as soon as he was able, hoping to escape the poverty of his North Memphis neighborhood. Most Douglass kids grew up to work in local factories; residents were often literally trapped in their community by stalled trains on the railroad tracks that border Douglass on three sides.  

In October of that year, my dad and his youngest brother went to DC for the Million Man March. Listening to the speakers that day, among black men from such diverse backgrounds, Dad felt connected to the black community as he had never before. He remembers seeing Congressman Harold Ford, Sr. (the first black man to represent Tennessee in Congress) and his entourage on his flight back to Memphis. “It was the first time I realized the sheer number of smart, capable black folks in the world,” my dad tells me.  

I don’t remember Dad going to DC, but I do remember this photo. It has always hung in the same place – centered over his squishy couch, carefully matted and framed against the 70’s wood paneling in his den. That image of the march is in the background of all my childhood memories. Any time I was summoned for discipline, it was under the watchful eyes of those million men. They were there when we watched Dominique Dawes win Olympic gold in ’96, and when our family first celebrated those feisty tennis players from Compton. I first read Roots lying beneath that photo, tangled in blankets on the floor near my father’s feet.  

Dad has been making the same joke about that photo for the last 20 years: “Look close, just there! Can you see us in the photo, Baby Girl? We’re the good-looking ones.” 

Story from Kamille Washington, @theblackhotties