Hel, great goddess, daughter of Loki,
She who guards the spirits of the dead,
Our friend [Name] has come to you now.
As [Name] kneels before you, Hel,
Know how much s/he was loved in this life,
And how many s/he loved in return
Before s/he crossed over.
S/he was an honorable soul,
A soaring spirit,
A brave warrior.
Watch over her/him, Hel, as s/he crosses the bridge,
From this life to the next.
And welcome her/him with glory,
That s/he may live on forever in our hearts
And memories.

-Prayer to Hel, Norse Goddess of the Underworld (via bragison)

You know what else it costs to write about and talk about consent? I’m going to be super real with y’all. It has cost me the vast majority of my relationships with men. Not all at once, but eventually, over time, one by one. It was one sexist joke too many, it was one boundary-crossing-creep-defender over the line. It was the constant microaggressions or the combination of being privileged and defensive about it and unable or unwilling to do any better. Most grew weary of arguing about feminist issues, or about the fact that I wouldn’t let them just win those arguments, even though they usually had no idea what they were talking about. They couldn’t deal with the fact that I won’t allow anyone to say disparaging shit to and about me and mine. Or they won’t or can’t do better after I explain how to do better many many times and finally I have to peace out on them for my own safety. I have at present a tiny handful of guy friends. One I get into arguments with nearly every time we talk. I fear that relationship may go the way of most of my past relationships with subtly sexist men—away, that is to say. Which is really too fucking bad. Because the truth is, I don’t hate men—I hate male privilege. I really like men, shit, I love them actually, some of them. I miss having men friends, but not enough to let the mild misogyny slide. I have got to take care of me and mine. That’s where we clash, because I refuse to just smooth things over, to just let things go. They’re accustomed to deference and I’ve taught myself to drop that habit as best I can.

Guest Post: On the costs of talking about consent - Consent Culture (via ceeainthereforthat)


La Diablesse" at the underwater sculpture park in Molinere Bay off the west coast of Grenada. These sculptures are not housed in an art gallery but are on the actual sea bed. These sculptures help the coral reefs, acting like a nursery for its renewed growth and development. La Diablesse is a sinister figure from Grenadian folklore

Top photo can be found here and bottom photo credit: Jason De Caires Taylor