Twmbarlwm Horse by benrhysjenkins on Flickr.

let me love you 0_o

Aww so small

Reporting from Birmingham

HOLY SHIT THE LINE

I’m in a blue oasis so this will probably not hold true for the rest of the state, but holy shit. This line wound through a hall in the library, around a big outflow room, and doubled back into the hall again. My mom said that when she drove past early this morning, the line was ALSO down the block. Later, she saw three buses from a senior living facility pull in on her way to our house. And then she and I went at lunchtime.

People were there to VOTE. I saw—well, on second thought, I’m gonna cut out some people-watching detail here, but I saw a lot of things that struck me about ages, health conditions, personal responsibilities. A number of people had clearly gone to a lot of effort to be there. Some of the voters looked young enough that this might have been their first chance to vote. Somewhere behind me, I heard a man say something in part like “…what a turnout like this…,” and the woman who must have been with him reply, “Well I think we know what it means.”

In other words, a big turnout for Kamala Harris. I’m sure there were Trump voters in that line, but this is, on the whole, not a Trump town. We always go blue. I haven’t seen many yard signs in my neighborhood at all, but I’ve only seen Harris/Walz. My mom has seen exactly one Trump sign this year. (This is why I say my observations will not hold for all of Alabama.) So this is what I expected, but at the same time, THE LINE. I know I’ve stood in line out on the street before, but I do not recall the line ever winding around and doubling back like that. The observation that women over 50 who remember what shit was like before Roe v. Wade are turning out to vote with a vengeance—I think I was seeing that as well, yeah. There were some seniors on a mission in that library.

The thing is that a lot of people are pissed off for a lot of different reasons this election, and then on top of that, there’s a lot of excitement. It’s like the thrill of 2008 plus the urgency of 2020. And everyone in that line still knew that Alabama’s nine electoral votes will go red anyway. Sure, we have downballot races—I just chose the “straight party voting” option, you make one mark and that’s all you have to do, plus one (1) Walker County measure we were voting on—but we all knew that we couldn’t do much to help in this big generational event of a presidential election. Run up the popular vote a little, maybe. But we were all still there by the hundreds on people’s lunch hours, not missing out on this.

Imagine what the enthusiasm’s like in states where it’ll make a difference.

Chilla | Alex De Bonis

When I was 19 or 20, I sewed myself a wool dress for medieval re-enactments. I hated it almost as soon as I put it on. The bodice was cut wrong; the lacing was uneven; the colour was garish; the front closure was historically inaccurate; the embellishments were sewn on with terrible thread. Wearing it, I was constantly aware of its myriad flaws.

Then in my twenties I hit my adult metabolism and didn’t fit into any of my old clothes anymore. I gave my old dresses to my foster mother, who sells costumes for a living, and the green dress sold. It entered the local medieval re-enactment secondhand economy.

Every time I go to an event, someone different is wearing my green dress. It draws my eyes because it’s a lovely colour and the fabric—real wool and enough of it—moves beautifully with the wearer’s body. I never recognize it at first, because every wearer has worn it a different way; it can be mixed and matched, dressed up and down, moved around a good century of history. From ten feet away its lacing looks elegant, its embellishments beautiful gracenotes. I think: Oh my god, that dress looks beautiful. Wait a minute, that’s MY DRESS.

That dress teaches me, every time I see it, to stop looking at myself through such critical eyes. That dress doesn’t just look good, it looks better than most other dresses in its category, because I put in the time and the effort (including using pliers to force a needle through six layers of wool) to make sure it was done right.

It’s my reminder that sometimes the things I do are actually good, and if I indulge my natural tendency to criticize myself in everything, I’ll end up missing when I’m actually awesome.

The Sound of Music (1965) dir. Robert Wise

Reporting from Birmingham

HOLY SHIT THE LINE

I’m in a blue oasis so this will probably not hold true for the rest of the state, but holy shit. This line wound through a hall in the library, around a big outflow room, and doubled back into the hall again. My mom said that when she drove past early this morning, the line was ALSO down the block. Later, she saw three buses from a senior living facility pull in on her way to our house. And then she and I went at lunchtime.

People were there to VOTE. I saw—well, on second thought, I’m gonna cut out some people-watching detail here, but I saw a lot of things that struck me about ages, health conditions, personal responsibilities. A number of people had clearly gone to a lot of effort to be there. Some of the voters looked young enough that this might have been their first chance to vote. Somewhere behind me, I heard a man say something in part like “…what a turnout like this…,” and the woman who must have been with him reply, “Well I think we know what it means.”

In other words, a big turnout for Kamala Harris. I’m sure there were Trump voters in that line, but this is, on the whole, not a Trump town. We always go blue. I haven’t seen many yard signs in my neighborhood at all, but I’ve only seen Harris/Walz. My mom has seen exactly one Trump sign this year. (This is why I say my observations will not hold for all of Alabama.) So this is what I expected, but at the same time, THE LINE. I know I’ve stood in line out on the street before, but I do not recall the line ever winding around and doubling back like that. The observation that women over 50 who remember what shit was like before Roe v. Wade are turning out to vote with a vengeance—I think I was seeing that as well, yeah. There were some seniors on a mission in that library.

The thing is that a lot of people are pissed off for a lot of different reasons this election, and then on top of that, there’s a lot of excitement. It’s like the thrill of 2008 plus the urgency of 2020. And everyone in that line still knew that Alabama’s nine electoral votes will go red anyway. Sure, we have downballot races—I just chose the “straight party voting” option, you make one mark and that’s all you have to do, plus one (1) Walker County measure we were voting on—but we all knew that we couldn’t do much to help in this big generational event of a presidential election. Run up the popular vote a little, maybe. But we were all still there by the hundreds on people’s lunch hours, not missing out on this.

Imagine what the enthusiasm’s like in states where it’ll make a difference.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ☾ Halloween (2x06) ↳ 25 Year Anniversary: First Aired October 27, 1997 “Look, Halloween is the night that not you is you, but not you, you know?“

Every time I've visited another country (I'm a country boy from Texas), and I've shown a genuine interest and curiosity about their culture, 99 time out of 100 the folks there get excited and love sharing their world with me. Honestly, it's the only way to travel. I've had so much fun traveling and meeting new people. It's the best way to destroy stereotypes and build bridges.

She sure told me!

i am going to dedicate my life to mastering the art of making the people around me feel seen and loved

‪”Purple Dressage” 14 x 24 inch ink and acrylic on paper.

Available on my website.

#painting #art #horses #equestrian #paintings #artist #horse #equine #horseart #equineart #equine #fineart #animals #dressage #horseshow

https://www.equineartiststevemessenger.com

Me lying down: I feel pretty much fine. What am I doing lying around? I should get up and do something. Or at least sit upright, damn.

Me when I’m upright: oh, Jesus. Oh, damn. Oh, RIGHT—this is why I was lying down.