I’m going to post this right now at this catholic clinic i work in. Let’s see what happens, shall we?
Too good not to reblog.
(Source: joanvaritek.com)
There has been, and will continue to be, a lot of discussion about what constitutes a human right; what is fundamental and what is ideal, and where to draw the line in between. This is good, as rights (or at least their wording) cannot be static - there will always be a circumstance that challenges our intentions and understanding. Asking, then, what is the most fundamental of fundamentals is an inherently impossible question. Some will say freedom of speech, others the right to shelter, many will advocate the right to equality before the law. Myself, I consider the right to mobility - to leave a place, to enter a place, to travel within and beyond borders - to be paramount.
I am the child of immigrants, themselves the products of a hundred years of drifting cultures, and most citizens of the Americas would say the same. Even indigenous peoples of the continent, of any continent, possess a rich history of migration, displacement, and expansion. We, as people and as organisms, cannot thrive without movement and change, always sidestepping stagnation. And as such, we have countless stories of our misadventures and achievements, our losses and our wonders.
What this project seeks is to share our stories of wandering, whether large or small or comic or tragic, to demonstrate that we are, at our heart, a Migrant Nation.
This is the first official post of my semi-professional project, as remarked upon before, Migrant Nation! Soon to be a repository of all your road-tripping, mixed-race, immigrant-hardship, and otherwise whither-wandering storytimes.
Hard at work! This is my equivalent of those shitty men-at-work gifs sites used to have while they were being relaunched. I’m planning to go through my existing posts, delete the fluff, clean up the OCD-relevant stuff, and go forward with this as a more publicly oriented mental health blog. This is partially because i’ve outgrown the personal diary approach, and partially because i’ve received a lot of amazing feedback and experiences lately regarding the ups and downs of brain wonkiness. Also, i’m planning to launch an unrelated, semi-professional project soon, so i’m gearing up for that! Alright, thanks for playing, see y’all on the other side.
Well.
That’s…
… accurate.
GPOY. (Shouldn’t it be Gratuitous Picture of -Myself-?!)
Something to accompany the previous post, though I recognize the irony of finding a picture for a post about being frustrated at not being able to take pictures.
(Click-through for original poster, xSilentRob)
Sometimes I wish that I had the skill and the resources to be able to take a quality picture of what’s going on in the instant that I see it. I’m sure a lot of people have this wish from time to time, but being in a relationship with someone who sees the world through the eyes of an artist has increased my regret over being unable to communicate in images. We’re lying together now and watching the storm through our little bedroom window, delighting in the rapid-fire flashes of lightning.
Today was overcast and quite windy, due to the leading edge of the hurricane. I’m not sure if it was because of this or just prolonged by this, but the hangar (where I work) was empty the whole day through - usually there’s 2 or 3 planes being worked on, sometimes as many as 9 or 10. Definitely a slow day, maintenance-wise.
As the storm started approaching in earnest, we got various reports of a tornado watch (more south and southwest than where we are, but as a regional airline that’s pretty important) that eventually became a tornado warning - tornadoes sighted or highly likely. Pretty much everything gets grounded at that point. I happened to be walking back through the hangar when they were towing in the one plane that was around, silhouetted against a purplish-grey sunset, and noticed there was a dragonfly darting in and around all the equipment.
I’m not even really sure that, given the chance, it would have made all that good of a photo - it’s possible that the beauty of it is composed entirely of overlapping concepts and context and a camera would belittle the experience. But nevertheless, it was beautiful.
