Live. Laugh. Love.

catsbeaversandducks:

Amazing Kitten Helps Artist Girl With Autism

Looking at little Iris Halmshaw’s photographs, you wouldn’t think that she was any different than any other 4-year-old little girl. And yet, she is. Iris is on the autism spectrum. The four-year-old girl rarely speaks and has great trouble with interacting with others, but expresses herself through movement and art.
Iris loves to paint. She does so with intense focus and concentration.
Since her diagnosis in 2012, witht he help of many experts, her parents were able to learn about how to help their daughter. Iris changed dramatically in just a short period of time. Although they still have a long way to go with her, they’re having more good days than bad ones. Aside from painting, spending time with her adorable guardian, Thula, a Maine Coon kitten helps her live life more fully.
Thula joins in with every activity, helping keep Iris interested and engaged. Iris’ mom, Arabella, describes Thula as a constant source of amusement and joy even on a grey day.

Check out Iris’ website to see more of her artwork or Follow the Little Miss Masterpiece and her best friend, Thula on Facebook.

Via Kitty Army

(via kaeandlucy)

“I made the word “queer” a part of me
right around when I started college
during a time when
nothing really made sense
and I was looking for a place
to call home.
I know what it is.
It know it’s a word with
skeletons in it’s closet.
A word with a past.
Queer is a word with a body count.
And we took it back.
Because queer was a word they threw
along with their fists
when they wanted it to hurt.
And we smiled back,
bruised knuckles, split lips,
"Come and take it."
Queer loved us
when our fathers looked through us
and talked about grandchildren
we didn’t know if we’d ever be able
to have.
Queer loved us when the law
said we didn’t have the right
to love each other.
Queer loved us when the townsfolk
were setting their fires
and sharpening their pitchforks.
I won’t ask for a show of hands.
I know it’s not safe for some of us.
But I’ll extend my hand to you.
I use this word to stand for love
after all the years it was used to hate.
I use it, because it saved me:
a word like heavy rainfall
on a crop dying of thirst.
I made the word queer a part of me
during a time when no other word
seemed to fit right,
and it’s still the warm hearth I come home to,
and if that’s not revolution,
I don’t know what is.
Because to me,
that’s liberation.
Because if queer can save
that lost little kid
then maybe there’s hope for the ones
who are let down by their parents,
beat up by their peers.
I have to believe that this word can do better.
Because it’s been causing harm for too many years.”
THE “Q” WORD, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

(via backshelfpoet)

“We were discussing homosexuality because of an allusion to it in the book we were reading, and several boys made comments such as, “That’s disgusting.” We got into the debate and eventually a boy admitted that he was terrified/disgusted when he was once sharing a taxi and the other male passenger made a pass at him. The lightbulb went off. “Oh,” I said. “I get it. See, you are afraid, because for the first time in your life you have found yourself a victim of unwanted sexual advances by someone who has the physical ability to use force against you.” The boy nodded and shuddered visibly.“But,” I continued. “As a woman, you learn to live with that from the time you are fourteen, and it never stops. We live with that fear every day of our lives. Every man walking through the parking garage the same time you are is either just a harmless stranger or a potential rapist. Every time.” The girls in the room nodded, agreeing. The boys seemed genuinely shocked. “So think about that the next time you hit on a girl. Maybe, like you in the taxi, she doesn’t actually want you to.””

Andrew Sullivan, Homophobia: The fear that another man will treat you like you treat women. 

(via perfect)

(Source: andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com, via cold-winter-days)

“I want a girl who gets excited to talk to me. A girl who saves stories throughout the day just to tell them to me later. I want someone who texts me every morning to tell me to have a good day, even if I’ve been up at school for 3 hours already. I just want someone who acts like they care. Because I haven’t been getting much of that lately, and when people ask what’s wrong, I don’t know what to say. “I don’t feel loved?” “I don’t feel like I’m being fought for or given the effort i deserve?” It seems to petty to say out loud. i just want to feel excited to talk to someone. I want passion, and I don’t have it.”

what the fuck happened. (via touchmykat)

Oh hey, so relevant.

(via touchmykat)

OMG. Lifeblood

(via taylor-gang-000)

(via kartrashyian)

healthyshrrrr1mp:

I’m reblogging this again because I want to add that images like this are literally 100% the only reason I feel better about my body. Because when I’m having a shitty body image day, I look in the mirror and I remember that there are people who think bodies like mine are beautiful and lovely and sexy and I give myself permission to love myself even though my body is rarely reflected in mainstream media.

healthyshrrrr1mp:

I’m reblogging this again because I want to add that images like this are literally 100% the only reason I feel better about my body. Because when I’m having a shitty body image day, I look in the mirror and I remember that there are people who think bodies like mine are beautiful and lovely and sexy and I give myself permission to love myself even though my body is rarely reflected in mainstream media.

(Source: bluehairedkitten, via accep-t)

pizzapriince:

following back everyone until i find a tumblr gf♡

pizzapriince:

following back everyone until i find a tumblr gf♡

(Source: gu-avajuice, via accep-t)

“I’m not thinking about the day when I’ll see you again, any more than I ever evoke our past — I too am blocked against all memory. But I don’t need to see you — I’m not separated from you, I’m still in the same world as you. You should know that I’m calm, involved, not at all unhappy — I have no regret, no desire, no hope for anything. I’m easy in my mind about you, and this ease of mind comes from the absolute certainty I now have that, if the worst were to happen to you, I should no longer live either […]”
Simone de Beauvoir, from Letters To Sartre (via violentwavesofemotion)
“The roads between our houses collapse, and we make bridges out of apologies trying to reach each other again. The news reporter talks about the abandoned house that burst into flames last week, and we mourn each ghost like we loved them once. Like we danced with them once and our bodies have been aching ever since. We just wanted the wars to stop. We just wanted forgiveness on Sunday. We just wanted words and the right voices saying them. We kept convincing ourselves that we waited too long in the wrong doorways, but the truth is, we would have waited longer and that’s why all of this still hurts.”
— Y.Z, answering machine (via rustyvoices)
“I want you to love me more than you love good literature. More than you love graffiti and sex and home-cooked meals. I want you to love me more than you love the way the grass smells after it’s been cut, the way the world spins around you as you roll down a hill, the way you feel after a full night’s sleep. I want you to love me more than you love all of your favourite things. Because I love you so much. You are all of my favourite things wrapped up into one person.”

Your Favourite Things (K.P.K)

“She sounds enthusiastic even about boredom. And yet her burbly style does not ring true. I have seen her, sometimes, when she thinks I’m not looking: her face goes still, remote, unreflecting. It’s as if she’s not inside it. But then she’ll turn and laugh.”
Margaret Atwood, from Cat’s Eye (via violentwavesofemotion)
“When I woke this morning in the dark, humid bedroom, hearing the rain beating down on all sides, it seemed to me I was cured. Cured of the shuddering heartbeat which has plagued these last two days so that I could hardly think, or read, for holding my hand to my heart. A wild bird pulsed there, caught in a cage of bone, about to burst through, shaking my whole body with each throb. I began to want to hit my heart, pierce it, if only to stop that ridiculous throb which seemed to wish to leap out of my chest and be gone to make its own way in the world. I lay, warm, my hand between my breasts, cherishing the surfacing from sleep and the peaceful steady unobtrusive beat of my rested heart. I rose, expecting at every moment to be shaken, and indeed I was not. I have been at rest since waking.”
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath (via violentwavesofemotion)

mymodernmet:

These stylized portraits are composed of multiple polygons meshed together into single graphic representations. Paris-based artist Vladan Filipovic used a digital low poly technique to produce the Star Wars series, which features a number of characters including Darth Vader, Chewbacca, C-3P0, and Yoda.

“Next year I will not be the self of this year now. And that is why I laugh at the transient, the ephemeral; laugh, while clutching, holding, tenderly, like a fool his toy, cracked glass, water through fingers. For all the writing, for all the invention of engines to express & convey & capture life, it is the living of it that is the gimmick. It goes by, and whatever dream you use to dope up the pains and hurts, it goes. Delude yourself about printed islands of permanence. You’ve only got so long to live. You’re getting your dream. Things are working, blind forces, no personal spiritual beneficent ones except your own intelligence and the good will of a few other fools and fellow humans. So hit it while it’s hot.”
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath (via violentwavesofemotion)