#food for ts
[ID: four photos showing various details of my casual cosplay of Jester from critical role. 1: shows me from the waist up eating a pink donut. I’m wearing a blue Jester wig with a pink bow, lollipop earrings, rainbow bracelets, white t-shirt and a dark green hoodie. 2: shows the top of my t-shirt and the lowest part of the neck. the t-shirt is white with a donut embroidery. i’m wearing a pink ribbon choker with a red teardrop gem and a longer necklace with a locket at the end. the locket is open and inside is a picture of beau. 3: a pair of feet wearing pale seafoam green shoes with pink ribbon laces, and purple socks with a pink donut pattern. 4: three pins pinned on a dark green fabric. one is shaped like a heart and has text that reads “girls like girls”. the second is a rainbow, and the third is a pegasus, for lack of a unicorn. /end ID]
I did this very gay casual Jester cosplay back in the beginning of October, and then slightly forgot to post anything? But here are Some Highlights!
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[ID: a digital drawing of Jester from critical role. she’s in an oversized teacup (or perhaps she’s just very small), her skirt floofing up over the edge, and her legs kicking up in the air on one side, while she’s leaning her arm on the handle. Her other arm is holding up a huge donut. there’s other (similarly proportioned) baked goods and berries floating all around Jester and the teacup, and from the edge of the teacup hangs a tea bag label in the shape of the symbol of the traveler. curved around the bottom and top of the image is text that reads: “I like my clerics like I like my tea. Strong, sweet, and with baked goods”. /end ID]
somehow it took me ages to actually post this but HERE SHE IS im so happy with this its so cute imo!! i entirely stole (with permission) this quote from @grandmafftarkin, so all credit goes to her for a) saying it in the first place, and b) inspiring me to do this entire artwork.
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Forever. Doge will never die. doge shade. doge rescue from underworld. doge.
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Half a century later,
I am checking and rechecking
an egg to make sure
it’s still good. I press
my nose against the rotten
planet, cold as a half-sung
song. Halved, I am
more than your weight,
still. When you died,
where were your teeth?
Where was your breath?
Breathe on this window for me.
Let me draw flowers on it.
Half a century later, geese tap
at my yard as if checking
for solid ground. Do you
think about twisting its fat
neck? Why do I think about
twisting its fat neck, about
that lovely puncture?
When you died, the guards
shouted industry and agriculture
into the air, their breath humid
enough to grow a mole.
I buy lettuce from the grocery
store and wash nothing.
When you died, you gulped
at the air, you slept with both
eyes open. You dreamt of
the fattening dough of the sky,
of geese singing in the future.
Loss sat in a living room
you didn’t have. Loss settled in
like heavy whipping cream,
like a new kind of mud.
Over a century later,
my teeth sharpening
for something to come.
I eat and eat and eat again.
Year after year, I leave eggs
by your grave, by ground
I can’t seem to find.
Jane Wong, from “When You Died,” How to Not Be Afraid of Everything (Alice James Books, 2021)
Shavuot celebrations in lockdown took a strange form, but a wonderful one. Cooked up a storm yesterday, with bourekas, blintzes and cheesecake, then studied at zoom session after zoom session until a dawn shacharit on my own rooftop. It was perfect. I miss my being with my community in person, but this was definitely still a treat.
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