Catalystcorvid - Whimsy, Creativity, Delight.

Two rules for creating anything.

1) Make it weird.

2) Make it with love.

"メイドの日なので再放送🫖⚡️" by しば (@kabenianaippai)

Start

Blog theme is officially up and running, folks. It's nothing groundbreaking, but I think it looks nice 😎

Is sorrow the true wild?

And if it is—and if we join them—your wild to mine—what’s that?

For joining, too, is a kind of annihilation. What if we joined our sorrows, I’m saying. I’m saying: What if that is joy?

The Book of Delights -- Ross Gay

I just found the funniest font ever

Like. What is this. Why is this. Who is the target audience of this?

twenty years across the sea

Trouble

He’d wanted the persimmons and asked her for them, but when she gave him the brown paper bag, brimming over, he was taken aback. Did he really need that many ? Still, he brought them home to his wife, and soon there were persimmons ripening on the kitchen counters, lining the windowsills. Each day, growing more and more succulent until the air was thick and sweet with their scent. At breakfast, he’d break one open with his spoon—the skin supple and ready to give—stir it into his hot cereal. Indescribable, the taste. And a texture he might have described as sea creature meets manna from heaven. When he ate one, he thought of her. And when he saw her, he thought of the persimmons. When her arm brushed, just barely, against his, did he imagine they both felt the same quickening? In myth, fruit is usually the beginning of disaster. And the way they made themselves so obvious— an almost audible orange against the white walls— made him wish he’d never asked her for them, didn’t have to smell them sugaring the air with ruin, as he sat there, face lowered to the bowl, spooning the soft pulp into his mouth.

Bonfire Opera : Poems. -- Danusha Laméris.

oh, that’s fluff. that’s fluff of my character that I think should get run over by a bus.