Emotional And Expressive Photographs Showcased By The NYC Dance Project
Fashion and beauty photographer Ken Browar and dancer and photographer Deborah Ory are the founders of the NYC Dance Project have explored the world of dancers intimately through their lenses, documented in a book called the Art of Movement.
This is the Fall Shark. Reblog and u will have all the sweater weather, crunchy leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, and cold nights in front of fire places u can imagine this season
If you don’t believe Russian fairy tales are hardcore, remember that in “The Death of Koschei the Deathless”, Prince Ivan first encounters
Princess Marya Morevna amid a field of corpses spanning from horizon to horizon, which turn out to be an invading army that the Princess has just slain in battle, apparently single-handedly. She then invites him into her tent and spends two days and nights banging his brains out, and that’s how he ends up getting married.(Later, the Princess goes off to fight another war and leaves Ivan to look after the housekeeping, with strict instructions not to go into a particular basement. Of course he disobeys, and finds the eponymous Koschei the Deathless bound in enchanted chains, because apparently keeping immortal sorcerers chained up in your closet is just a thing that you do when you’re
Princess Marya Morevna. The subsequent accidental unbinding sets off the main plot, making this tale one of the relatively few instances of the traditional forbidden-room device in which the disobedient spouse is the husband rather than the wife.)
Why I:
- A) love “Fairy Tales,”
- B) Love Russian “Fairy Tales” in particular, and
- C) Look askance at anyone waxing poetical about “Fairy Tale Romances”
Also, check out Vasilisa the Beautiful
Yeah, “Vasilisa the Beautiful” is also a pretty good one – though personally, I prefer the versions where it’s clear that Baba Yaga is fully aware that she’s being used as an unwanted stepchild disposal service, and she resents it, so she’s torn between free child meat and taking the opportunity to give the stepmother an ironic comeuppance. You don’t often get to see her conflicted like that!
Beautiful woman with fire-shooting skull on stick? I’m pretty sure several of my followers want to be her.
Baba Yaga is so important and also let’s not forget how many Russian folktales involve people losing their hands in an almost Star Wars-like amount because its a damn lot.
You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.
Case: #273402
Status: Disastrous.I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying!
I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed.
Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster.
I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again.
“I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and…
She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me.
“Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do.
The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside.
I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own.
Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out.
“What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face.
“If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him.
As Francis runs from the room he soils himself.
I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.”
Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.WELL GODAMN, WE HAVE OURSELVES A WINNER
Holy shit I’m gonna cry that’s beautiful.
Every single cursed moment of my tumblr existence has led me here. I am whole. I am complete.
*mad cackling*
My anger is justified.
ealdor 