There’ve been a few responses to/reblogs with tags on my post about DIY clothing embellishments that basically boil down to ‘I’d love to do this but I’m scared it’ll turn out bad/I’m not a good enough artist’. And I get it, I really do! I also want my art things to turn out nicely. But also…making it badly is sort of the point of punk DIY.
Listen. We live in a world that would dearly love to charge you a subscription fee for breathing. The bastards are doing everything they possibly can to figure out how to turn art - stories, visual art, music, textile/fibre art, sculpture, crafts and creations of every kind - into a neat, discrete, packageable commodity, a product they can chop up into little pieces and stick behind a paywall so they can charge you for every drop of it you want to have in your life.
The whole sneering idea that ‘everybody wants to be some kind of creator now’ and anything less than absolute mastery right out the gate is somehow shameful and embarrassing is a tool those bastards are using. It’s a way to reinforce the idea that only a set group of people can create and control art, and everybody else has to buy it.
But art isn’t a product. Art is a fundamental human impulse. Nobody is entitled to a specific piece of art (which is where this message gets skewed into pitting people who love art against the artists who make it, while the bastards screw us all and run away with the money). But making art belongs to everybody. We make up songs and dances and stories, and paint things, and make clothes, and embellish them, and carve flowers into our furniture and our lintels and our doorframes, and make windows out of tiny pieces of coloured glass, and decorate our homes and our bodies and our lives with things we make and make up, simply for the love of beauty and of the act of creation. Grave goods from tens of thousands of years ago show that ancient hominids gave their dead wreaths of ceramic flowers, tattooed their bodies, beaded their shoes. Making things for the sake of beauty and enjoyment is one of the most ancient and human things we can do.
The idea that we can’t, that we have to buy shit instead, because art is a product and you have to have the bestest prettiest most perfect product, is the enemy of joy. It’s the death of culture. And it means that, instead of whatever it is that you cherish and enjoy and value, you get whatever inoffensive (and to whom is it inoffensive?) bland meaningless samey-samey crap that the bastards want you to be allowed to have. What are you missing and what are you missing out on, if you don’t make or modify or decorate anything for yourself, if you don’t think you can because the product at the end won’t be polished or perfect or marketable enough? What do you lose? What do we lose?
It is a desperately vital and necessary thing for you to make shit. For you to know that you can make shit, that you don’t have to just lie back and take whatever pablum the bastards want to force-feed you (and charge you through the nose for). That the bastards need you more than you need them.
Become ungovernable. Be your own weirdly-endearing punk little freak. Paint on a t-shirt. Sing off-key in the shower or at karaoke night or at open mic night. Make up a story where you get to meet your favourite fictional character and you guys hug or fuck or punch each other in the face. Make art. Do it badly. Do it frequently. Do it enthusiastically. Do it for love and joy and creativity and fun and the spiteful joy of thumbing your nose at some smug motherfucker with a Swiss bank account who wants to track your heartbeat and location for the rest of your life in order to automatically pump AI-generated beats matched to your mood into your earbuds for a small monthly subscription fee of $24.99/month. It is literally the only way we are ever going to have even a chance to save art and our own lives from the bastards.
So. Paint that t-shirt.
(Also support artists where you can, and buy your music from Bandcamp.)
soup de jour: soup of the day
soup de jure: soup the government wants you to eat
soup de facto: the soup everyone actually eats
I define a chair as any object that is used to sit on
A big stone? I sit on it, thus it becomes a chair
A stack of wood palets? Let me move my ass and turn that shit into a chair
But wait
Now i moved to sit on a slightly lower stack of palets next to it, which becomes a chair
And i lay my food on the slightly higher stack of pallets; now i use it as a table, it has become a table and is not a chair anymore
But a chair is usually a seat for a single person, so if you sit next to me on the stack of palets, it becomes a bench.
Although a bench is made for sitting, so if we lay back on the pallets after our meal, it becomes .... a bed??
i think that all the people who argue about gender by saying "the woke left cant even define a woman" need to get hit with the "who are you" question by a buddhist monk. no, thats your name, who are you. no thats your profession, who are YOU. no you fucking idiot thats your species, who are YOUU. dumb bitch u cant even define yourself
I've been thinking about this amazing pattern for days....
BEHOLD
rainbow croak army
there is a black one that looks like an orca and one color of leather bag
Amidst all the images coming out of palestine of death and destruction created by the zionist occupation, i think it is important that we take a moment to remember palestine as it was- seen and captured through the eyes of talented photographers like Shahed @shahednhall and remember exactly what was senselessly lost in the past few months.
This is Al-Azhar university, where Shahed used to study. She was an exemplary student, and used to get regularly invited by her teachers to give lectures.
Since the university was bombed and destroyed by the IOF, all she has left are these pictures. Even through all the violence and death around her though, she still makes sure to keep up with her studies through the university's online programme.
This is a shop Shahed had visited only some time before october. She told me it was run by an artist who painted these beautiful home items, and engraved them by hand with customers names. Shahed had photographed them because they were so eye-catching and beautiful, and had sent the woman her photos so she could use them to promote the shop.
Shahed has told me this shop isnt there any more. She is currently trying to get in touch with the woman who used to run this shop again, but shahed doesn't know if she is even alive or not.
Shahed has an eye for beauty in all things, and it shows in her work and in conversation. It has taken on a different meaning now when so much of everything she knows has been stolen by the occupation from her and other palestinians like her.
In her own words:
"As you know, I like to photograph a lot, everyone liked my photography. I was filming everything because a memory can never come back again. This sentence is not understood by many. I am happy because I photograph everything."
What had been a hobby of collecting moments for her has now become something of an archive of all the things in Palestine that have been lost to the zionist occupation.
Shahed's outlook on her photography tends to colour our conversation as well. She finds it is more productive to talk to me about her hope for a better future, rather than all the bleakness around her right now.
"Yes, because I see inside every picture of new hope, I feel a great motivation that I will survive to see that life is more beautiful than what I live at the moment. I seek to return to a life that is more beautiful than the one we live now, a very difficult life because it has turned black and white."
I don't know how anyone can look at her photos and think of anything but hope
The mainstream media in the west and elsewhere can lie all they like- but we will know always that palestine was and is a land full of beautiful people. Never forget that the death, illness and destruction in palestine today was something imposed upon them by the colonizers, and has been imposed upon them for decades.
Shahed doesn't like to share images of misery with me, but please remember that she and her family are suffering right now. The happy children in the pictures, her little sisters, are suffering from severe hepatitis and are no longer recieving treatment due to overcrowding at what hospitals are left in gaza. Shahed herself has been weak and ill for days, narrowly surviving multiple massacres in just the past few days while trying to get food for her family. They all got displaced just last week due to the intense bombing in khan younis, and in doing so have lost precious funds that could have gone into food and clean water. They are starving.
Shahed is only 21 years old but the responsibility of taking care of all 17 of her family members rests solely on her shoulders.
This gfm was verified and appears on hussein @/el-shab-hussein and nairuz @/nabulsi list of vetted fundraisers (#224) so please dont hesitate to donate whatever you can, and please keep sharing!!!
Take this as a call to action, please repost her her fundraiser in your discord servers, in your whatsapp groups. Repost her photgraphy and share her story on whatever social media you have reach, so that people can help because i really cant get her to her goal in time alone.
you! tumblr user!
In one of my film classes last semester we had to tell a story in 3 pictures for a mini assignment so my friend and I did this
people NEED to stop gatekeeping making music like ohhhh i don’t have an instrument ohhhhh i don’t know music theory ohhhhh i’m not gonna pay for some program. SHUT UP. take my hand.
you need NONE of that shit!!!!! there’s a website called beepbox.co. literally all you have to do is press things until it sounds a modicum of nice. it’s easy it’s free and it works on anything which has a browser because it’s a website.
if even ONE person starts making music bc of this post it will be worth it.
making bad music is just as important and okay as it is to write badly or draw badly or sing badly. you AREN’T BEHOLDEN TO MAKE GOOD MUSIC. making music is not utilitarian HAVE FUN. HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!
Kafka ?
can you elaborate on the bug hentai. please. please.
i will not
some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.