And it doesn’t matter that she didn’t ask to be beautiful, or to be born in a lake, or to live forever, or to not know how men breathe until they stop doing it. Well, I do not want to be beautiful, or a woman, or anything. I want to know how men breathe.
This body of work is an exploration of the extent of cultural appropriation and encourages a discussion about it. I give the appropriator and the appropriated the opportunity to defend themselves and create a dialogue between them, while maintaining a neutral stance myself. I am not attacking those who appropriate, merely educating and creating awareness. I’m also exploring appropriation myself, and discovering the carying degrees of it within this visual conversation.
I’d like to make this a long term exploration, with a lot more participants as a form of generation-wide debate. If you’d like to be photographed to add your point of view, please do not hesitate to pop me a message here or an email at sanaahamid@yahoo.com and we could work something out!
unknown photographer, a spot of december sun filtering onto the platform of victoria station, 1934
from london: portrait of a city by reuel golden; p. 164-165
The Execution of Anne Boleyn → And then she knelt down saying, “To Christ I commend my soul, Jesus receive my soul” diverse times, till that her head was stricken off with the sword. And on the Ascension Day following, the king wore white for mourning.
teen wolf rewatch | 2x10, fury
“werewolves, hunters, kanimas… it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon!”
oh yes, yes, don’t worry, I’m okay! It’s just my foot that hurts everytime I try to walk? But I’m definetly with my legs crossed on the bed right now, so no worries :P
okay so
1. i had so much fuuuuuuun
2. ate good food
3. had more fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun
4. i’m managing to go to sleep before the usual time go me
5. i love you all
6. i’m happy despite the fact that the wound beneath my left foot got bigger and more painful
