Poetry 365: Thunder, Elizabeth Bishop →
And suddenly the giants tired of play.— With huge, rough hands they flung the gods’ gold balls And silver harps and mirrors at the walls Of Heaven, and trod, ashamed, where lay The loveliness of flowers. Frightened Day On white feet ran from out the temple halls, The blundering dark was… Elizabeth Bishop’s poetry is fierce
Riot Grrrl Manifesto
uhrwerk: alphabetasoup: ariataibi: BECAUSE us girls crave records and books and fanzines that speak to US that WE feel included in and can understand in our own ways. BECAUSE we wanna make it easier for girls to see/hear each other’s work so that we can share strategies and criticize-applaud each other. BECAUSE we must take over the means of production in order to create our own moanings....
I wish attending art events alone didn't make me ab...
(via mandyjanerose) Oh fuck I totally know what you mean. Gigs as well. I’ll move to Canada and be your art-event buddy since there’s probably more going on there than here.