zeldathemes

dynamicafrica:

Spotlight: Photographer Damion Reid and the “Beauty of the Black Woman” Project.

How do you describe what a black woman is? How do you even begin to define her?

You don’t. You leave that up to her.

As black women, as black people, we are well aware of our complexities - whether inherited or otherwise. What’s more, despite our differences being used to divide and separate us, whether through experience or heritage, history has played out in such a way that we are and will always be connected to each other in ways words cannot even begin to describe. As romantic as this may sound, and though there is so much beauty in who we are, there’s a lot of pain that we are still forced to triumph through. Despite all this, as we combat that which has manifested in our lives through both structural and internal racism, it’s so important that we look for ways to find and recreate ourselves on our terms.

Living in a world where black women have to constantly defend their existence and personally find ways to continuously reaffirm their beauty and self-worth, it’s hard not to love what Damion Reid does.

As a Communications Major, Reid was, to say the least, troubled by the negative images and stories he’d often come across of Black women and Black people in the Diaspora. In the Spring of 2002, armed with his camera and desire to show the multi-faceted reality of Black women, he began approaching women he’d see in public in an attempt to capture the “Beauty of the Black Woman.”

Ridding himself of mainstream notions of what beauty is or is supposed to look like, Reid opted to go for something deeper when approaching women, "I share a spiritual bond with Black Women. They are the only people that can understand what me a Black Male goes through. That is beauty to me. I go with my feelings. If it feels right to approach someone, I will do it."

So far, the responses Reid has received have been incredibly positive and wonderfully surprising, “Sometimes the Women are shocked that I want to photograph them. They were not used to be called beautiful, much less photographed.”

For Reid, this is a “never-ending project.” He does plan on taking things further and is currently working on a project that concerns Black men in the Diaspora. 

All photos courtesy of Damion Reid.

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gallifreyan-detective:

Requested by Anon.

The best moment in tv history

year-of-the-deanmon:

fandoms-have-the-tardis:

tyleroakley:

decaffeinate-o:



I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T BE TEACHING ME THIS.

We need this if we are to becoming hunters

I have been staring at this for a good 10 minutes…like i get it but i don’t, how does lock picking work

year-of-the-deanmon:

fandoms-have-the-tardis:

tyleroakley:

decaffeinate-o:

image

I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T BE TEACHING ME THIS.

We need this if we are to becoming hunters

I have been staring at this for a good 10 minutes…like i get it but i don’t, how does lock picking work

stabla:


i went to my great aunts funeral today, which was interesting and sad because i found out so much about her. 
she got the first face lift ever in new zealand
she had a “glass act” (pictured above) where she would wash her face and body in broken glass and not get slightly scratched. when members of the audience tried, they were grievously injured.
she once hypnotized 500 people for fun and then asked them to go and stand on a highway, so that cars couldn’t pass. she got in a lot of trouble because the crowd got so large that there was a national traffic crisis.
her act included hypnotizing people into walking to work in their underwear, with their consent of course, and one of the men who had actually done it came to the funeral.
at her funeral all these people who had been in her act showed up and talked about how great she was, how she was gifted and crazy and i suppose i’m sad and happy about it.

stabla:

i went to my great aunts funeral today, which was interesting and sad because i found out so much about her. 

  • she got the first face lift ever in new zealand
  • she had a “glass act” (pictured above) where she would wash her face and body in broken glass and not get slightly scratched. when members of the audience tried, they were grievously injured.
  • she once hypnotized 500 people for fun and then asked them to go and stand on a highway, so that cars couldn’t pass. she got in a lot of trouble because the crowd got so large that there was a national traffic crisis.
  • her act included hypnotizing people into walking to work in their underwear, with their consent of course, and one of the men who had actually done it came to the funeral.

at her funeral all these people who had been in her act showed up and talked about how great she was, how she was gifted and crazy and i suppose i’m sad and happy about it.

supernatural meme: [3/10] scenes→ Dean confronting John  [1.21]

Emma “bedroom eyes” Swan & Killian “I’m so screwed” Jones
cupidmike:

mjwatson:

A Response to ‘Women Against Feminism.’
Imagine this:
The year is 2014. You are a white Western woman. You wake up in the morning in a comfortably sized house or flat. You have a full or part-time job that enables you to pay your rent or mortgage. You have been to school and maybe even college or university as well. You can read and write and count. You own a car or have a driver’s licence. You have enough money in your own bank account to feed and clothe yourself. You have access to the Internet. You can vote. You have a boyfriend or girlfriend of your choosing, who you can also marry if you want to, and raise a family with. You walk down the street wearing whatever you feel like wearing. You can go to bars and clubs and sleep with whomever you want.
Your world is full of freedom and possibility.
Then you pick up a newspaper or go online. You read about angry women ranting about sexism and inequality. You see phrases like ‘rape-culture’ and ‘slut-shaming.’ You furrow your brow and think to yourself: ‘What are they so angry about? There is no such thing as sexism anymore.’
Now imagine this: 
The year is 2013. You are a 25 year-old Pakistani woman. A few months ago, you married the man you love. A man you choose for yourself. You are also pregnant with his child. You see your life stretching out before you, filled with hope and happiness. Suddenly, you and your husband are dragged away from each other. You are both beaten with bricks and batons. You can’t fight back. You can’t escape. No one comes to help you. Through your fading vision, you look up, and look into the eyes of one of your assailants: into the eyes of your father.
The year is 2013. You are a 23 year-old Indian woman. You are a physiotherapy student with a promising career ahead of you. You are sitting on a private bus travelling home alone on a warm December evening. You gaze out of the window as the buildings of New Dheli rush past you and feel content. Suddenly, a blunt force hits the back of your head and you fall to the floor of the bus. A group of strange men are standing over you. They bring the metal bar down on you again and again and again until all you can taste is the blood filling up your mouth. You pray that you will die soon. And you do, but not then. You are raped, beaten, and tortured over and over again. Death is slow and agonising.
The year is 2014. You are a 13 year-old girl from Niger. You no longer live there though. You are now living in the neighbouring country Nigeria, sitting alone in small room on a small bed in a small apartment high above the city of Kano. You are not allowed to leave. Your stomach is swollen from the unwanted life growing inside of it. You had no choice. The father is a man in his 40s. He is a businessman. He has bought you as his wife. You were a penniless, uneducated girl when he came for you. You don’t know of any life you could have had. Neither did your family: just one less mouth for them to feed. You still have the body of a child, and it’s straining under the pressure from the one inside of you. You feel like you’re about to be split in two. You don’t wonder if you will survive the birth. A part of you doesn’t want to.
These are fictionalised accounts of real events that have happened to real women living in our world today. They follow the past 250 years of women and men campaigning for women to be given equal rights to men to prevent these kinds of injustices and abuses on the grounds of gender taking place. Over the course of this time, campaigners – Feminists, both female and male – have been locked up, beaten, tortured, and even killed, in the pursuit of equality. They did this with pen and ink and print; they did this with their voices; they did this with their bodies; they did this with art and music; they did in courts of law and halls and houses of government that they fought be to allowed into.
They did this so that women would no longer been seen as property, livestock, breeding machines, sex objects, punching bags, or infantile morons. They did this not just for themselves, but also for their daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters for generations to come. They did this for women they would never meet – women who lived across countries, across vast oceans, across the entire globe, and even across time.
They did this so that women like me – a white Western woman – could attend school and university; to learn to read, write, and think critically; to gain a degree; to get a job and be paid an equal salary to a man in the same position; and to sit here with my own computer and type all of this.
Feminism is a movement for freedom, equality, choice, love, compassion, respect, solidarity, and education. We may argue, we may disagree, we may struggle to understand the choices and perspectives of others sometimes, but these core beliefs of the movement have never changed, and they never will.
That is why I am a Feminist.
If you feel that you have so far lived your life unaffected by even the mildest form of sexism – anything from feeling uncomfortable when a man catcalls you in the street, to feeling scared walking home alone at night in a secluded area – and are treated with love and respect by every man in your life, then to you I say: I’m glad for you. If you don’t think you need feminism, then that is a victory for the movement. You have fulfilled all those dreams that every suffragette being force-fed in prison and every ‘witch’ burnt at the stake dreamed you would one day.
But perhaps take a second to consider the life of the Pakistani woman who was beaten to death by her own family for marrying a man of her choosing. Or the life of the Indian woman who was raped, beaten, and murdered on a bus by a gang of men. Or the life of the little girl in Niger who was sold to a man more than twice her own age and forced to carry a baby that may kill her to deliver. Do they still need feminism?
And perhaps take a second to consider this too: Even in our liberal, Western world, why do women still only fill 24% of senior management jobs? Why are more women than men domestically abused or even killed every week at the hands of their male partner or ex-partner? Why is there still a pay gap (in the UK specifically) of 15% for women doing the same jobs and working the same hours as men?
And what about on a cultural level? Have you ever noticed how comedy panel shows usually only have one female panellist compared to 4-5 male ones? That almost every dieting product on the market is solely aimed at women? How a lot of newspapers and advertising campaigns will use a sexualised or pornographic image of a woman to sell news or products that have nothing to do with sex?
Or perhaps on a personal level: Do you choose to wear certain clothes because you want to or because you feel ‘unfeminine’ if you don’t? Do you choose to cover yourself up because you want to or because you feel ashamed or intimidated by a man looking at your body? Do you shave your legs and underarm hair because you want to or because you will look ‘ugly’ if you don’t? Did you parents dress you in pink as a baby because they liked the colour or because you were born a girl? Do you want to have children because you want to or because you are a woman?
When you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, do you see yourself through your own eyes, or through the eyes of the men that will look at you when you walk out the door?
The fact is, like it or not, you still live a world where gender matters. Where gender controls not just the entire course of your life – but the lives of women all over the world. Every second, a child will be born female in a country where she will persecuted for this random biological occurrence for the rest of her life. So before you hold up your anti-Feminist placard proudly and smile at your own sense of empowerment, think not what Feminism can do for you, but what it can do for that one girl. She needs someone to stand up for her. That someone could be you.
[ x ]

Read this. Read all of this. Then read it again.

cupidmike:

mjwatson:

A Response to ‘Women Against Feminism.’

Imagine this:

The year is 2014. You are a white Western woman. You wake up in the morning in a comfortably sized house or flat. You have a full or part-time job that enables you to pay your rent or mortgage. You have been to school and maybe even college or university as well. You can read and write and count. You own a car or have a driver’s licence. You have enough money in your own bank account to feed and clothe yourself. You have access to the Internet. You can vote. You have a boyfriend or girlfriend of your choosing, who you can also marry if you want to, and raise a family with. You walk down the street wearing whatever you feel like wearing. You can go to bars and clubs and sleep with whomever you want.

Your world is full of freedom and possibility.

Then you pick up a newspaper or go online. You read about angry women ranting about sexism and inequality. You see phrases like ‘rape-culture’ and ‘slut-shaming.’ You furrow your brow and think to yourself: ‘What are they so angry about? There is no such thing as sexism anymore.’

Now imagine this:

The year is 2013. You are a 25 year-old Pakistani woman. A few months ago, you married the man you love. A man you choose for yourself. You are also pregnant with his child. You see your life stretching out before you, filled with hope and happiness. Suddenly, you and your husband are dragged away from each other. You are both beaten with bricks and batons. You can’t fight back. You can’t escape. No one comes to help you. Through your fading vision, you look up, and look into the eyes of one of your assailants: into the eyes of your father.

The year is 2013. You are a 23 year-old Indian woman. You are a physiotherapy student with a promising career ahead of you. You are sitting on a private bus travelling home alone on a warm December evening. You gaze out of the window as the buildings of New Dheli rush past you and feel content. Suddenly, a blunt force hits the back of your head and you fall to the floor of the bus. A group of strange men are standing over you. They bring the metal bar down on you again and again and again until all you can taste is the blood filling up your mouth. You pray that you will die soon. And you do, but not then. You are raped, beaten, and tortured over and over again. Death is slow and agonising.

The year is 2014. You are a 13 year-old girl from Niger. You no longer live there though. You are now living in the neighbouring country Nigeria, sitting alone in small room on a small bed in a small apartment high above the city of Kano. You are not allowed to leave. Your stomach is swollen from the unwanted life growing inside of it. You had no choice. The father is a man in his 40s. He is a businessman. He has bought you as his wife. You were a penniless, uneducated girl when he came for you. You don’t know of any life you could have had. Neither did your family: just one less mouth for them to feed. You still have the body of a child, and it’s straining under the pressure from the one inside of you. You feel like you’re about to be split in two. You don’t wonder if you will survive the birth. A part of you doesn’t want to.

These are fictionalised accounts of real events that have happened to real women living in our world today. They follow the past 250 years of women and men campaigning for women to be given equal rights to men to prevent these kinds of injustices and abuses on the grounds of gender taking place. Over the course of this time, campaigners – Feminists, both female and male – have been locked up, beaten, tortured, and even killed, in the pursuit of equality. They did this with pen and ink and print; they did this with their voices; they did this with their bodies; they did this with art and music; they did in courts of law and halls and houses of government that they fought be to allowed into.

They did this so that women would no longer been seen as property, livestock, breeding machines, sex objects, punching bags, or infantile morons. They did this not just for themselves, but also for their daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters for generations to come. They did this for women they would never meet – women who lived across countries, across vast oceans, across the entire globe, and even across time.

They did this so that women like me – a white Western woman – could attend school and university; to learn to read, write, and think critically; to gain a degree; to get a job and be paid an equal salary to a man in the same position; and to sit here with my own computer and type all of this.

Feminism is a movement for freedom, equality, choice, love, compassion, respect, solidarity, and education. We may argue, we may disagree, we may struggle to understand the choices and perspectives of others sometimes, but these core beliefs of the movement have never changed, and they never will.

That is why I am a Feminist.

If you feel that you have so far lived your life unaffected by even the mildest form of sexism – anything from feeling uncomfortable when a man catcalls you in the street, to feeling scared walking home alone at night in a secluded area – and are treated with love and respect by every man in your life, then to you I say: I’m glad for you. If you don’t think you need feminism, then that is a victory for the movement. You have fulfilled all those dreams that every suffragette being force-fed in prison and every ‘witch’ burnt at the stake dreamed you would one day.

But perhaps take a second to consider the life of the Pakistani woman who was beaten to death by her own family for marrying a man of her choosing. Or the life of the Indian woman who was raped, beaten, and murdered on a bus by a gang of men. Or the life of the little girl in Niger who was sold to a man more than twice her own age and forced to carry a baby that may kill her to deliver. Do they still need feminism?

And perhaps take a second to consider this too: Even in our liberal, Western world, why do women still only fill 24% of senior management jobs? Why are more women than men domestically abused or even killed every week at the hands of their male partner or ex-partner? Why is there still a pay gap (in the UK specifically) of 15% for women doing the same jobs and working the same hours as men?

And what about on a cultural level? Have you ever noticed how comedy panel shows usually only have one female panellist compared to 4-5 male ones? That almost every dieting product on the market is solely aimed at women? How a lot of newspapers and advertising campaigns will use a sexualised or pornographic image of a woman to sell news or products that have nothing to do with sex?

Or perhaps on a personal level: Do you choose to wear certain clothes because you want to or because you feel ‘unfeminine’ if you don’t? Do you choose to cover yourself up because you want to or because you feel ashamed or intimidated by a man looking at your body? Do you shave your legs and underarm hair because you want to or because you will look ‘ugly’ if you don’t? Did you parents dress you in pink as a baby because they liked the colour or because you were born a girl? Do you want to have children because you want to or because you are a woman?

When you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, do you see yourself through your own eyes, or through the eyes of the men that will look at you when you walk out the door?

The fact is, like it or not, you still live a world where gender matters. Where gender controls not just the entire course of your life – but the lives of women all over the world. Every second, a child will be born female in a country where she will persecuted for this random biological occurrence for the rest of her life. So before you hold up your anti-Feminist placard proudly and smile at your own sense of empowerment, think not what Feminism can do for you, but what it can do for that one girl. She needs someone to stand up for her. That someone could be you.

[ x ]

Read this. Read all of this. Then read it again.

legendarystar-lord:

i guess howard couldn’t have predicted how hard the 2008 economic crysis would hit hydra

the-bucky-barnes:

…and that’s how Bucky came to hate pumpkin flavored everything.

taylorswift:

This is a good example of what I typically wear on planes, in front of lots of other people who all have eyes.

taylorswift:

This is a good example of what I typically wear on planes, in front of lots of other people who all have eyes.

spoopy-giraffe:

spooky-fiona-glenanne:

y10k:

I don’t throw the term genius around loosely, but..

I had a friend who had a wallet made from a Stayfree extra long wrapper and she took it travelling in Asia and a guy picked her pocket and he dropped it and screamed when he thought he had a pad in his hand.

That is the most beautiful story I’ve ever heard

spoopy-giraffe:

spooky-fiona-glenanne:

y10k:

I don’t throw the term genius around loosely, but..

I had a friend who had a wallet made from a Stayfree extra long wrapper and she took it travelling in Asia and a guy picked her pocket and he dropped it and screamed when he thought he had a pad in his hand.

That is the most beautiful story I’ve ever heard

How I draw faces

castiel-is-the-fallen-angel:

swordcane:

andlatitude:

image

1) circle with lines

image

2) face, head, neck

image

3) nose

image

4) eyes, mouth, eyebrows

image

5) haaaiiir

image

6) everything else

image

image

image

image

image

image

thnx 4 help Steph

I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

HOVER
Mew-Mew!!!
Come one! Come all! The Circus of the Socially Awkward Weirdos (CSAW) is in town, and it dragged in one kiwi teen who goes by the name of Srishaa. She can sing, she can fail at dancing, and she can entertain you all with her lack of gymnastic ability and utterly ridiculous clumsiness. But wait there's more, she can also spout random fandom knowledge on command, stress about her education, and treat you to lame jokes. She really is quite useful. So, come one! Come all! The Circus of the Socially Awkward Weirdos (CSAW) welcomes you.
HOVER