the one problem i have with people my age and younger is that a lot of us do not have hands on hobbies. like i have spoken to so many people my age who go to work, go to school and then fuck around on their phone/computer for hours and then ???????? like no wonder ur depressed and have low confidence in urself. u need to get ur hands on something, feed those dopamine receptors! learn how to play guitar, garden, scrapbook, fucking make model trains. i don’t give a shit, MAKE SOMETHING!!
it feels better than drugs when i finish making a thing—and then show it off or gift it.
and then so people my age say to me ‘well—i can’t draw/paint/knit/etc. like you can. my stuff would be terrible.’ yeah, well duh—a part of developing skill is sucking at something and then practicing it over and over and over again until you suck less. u’ll have a hard time feeling lonely or bored when you can’t stop thinking abt a technique you want to try or something you want to make for someone else. making things has SAVED MY LIFE. it gave me a reason to keep living day after day when i wanted to die.
making things improved my generational relationships (when i worked for the newspaper i would talk to customers abt jamming recipes or cross-stitch, one of my grandmas always gives me pattern books and tell me abt when she knitted things for mom, my other grandma is giving me a wedding quilt that HER grandma gave her 50 years ago because she knows i will appreciate it). it also got me likeminded friends who also make things.
take a ceramics class! pick up water colors, bake cakes! learn to work on cars! make soap. DO SOMETHING THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE STARING AT A SCREEN.
The Middle
I wrote and illustrated this story as a birthday present for my partner, I hope you enjoy it!
did you know that a physicist (Boltzmann) has his equation engraved on his tombstone? what is physics, if not poetry? who are physicists, if not poets explaining the working of the universe lyrically?
This I found myself thinking in the years that followed, on nights when my wife and I played the violin together, when we cooked together, when we walked in our fields watching the movements of the farm robots, when we sat on the porch watching the airships rise up like fireflies on the horizon over Oklahoma City, this is what the Time Institute never understood: if definitive proof emerges that we’re living in a simulation, the correct response to that news will be So what. A life lived in a simulation is still a life.
- Sea of Tranquility, Emily St. John Mandel
A Line made by Walking , Sara Baume //August - taylor swift , edit by @lilacsblossom the unabridged journals of sylvia plath- Sylvia Plath// Wuthering Heights ~Emily Brontë//Mary Oliver from “August”, devotions // Letters of Summer Past by Listy Tamtego Lata VI // august by taylor swift , edit by @lilacsblossom // Mary Oliver , the pond // Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn // the secret life of bees - Sue Monk Kidd// August 3 , 4pm -im not ready//
women in stem. women in root. women in leaf.
The chronicle of the monk Herbert of Reichenau for the year 1021 ends “My brother Werner was born on November 1.“
1021 was not an uneventful year. The emperor began a campaign into Italy. Illustrious abbots died. There was an earthquake. But Herbert took the time to note, at the end of the year, that his brother was born.
Of such acts of tenderness is history made.
there's just something inherently holy about a girl vibing alone in her room
/‘hir,āeth/
noun a homesickness for a home you can not return to or a home that never was.
mae, she/her, 19, physics student & researcher
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