Sibiriens skrifter

22 years old; Stockholm, Sweden. Life as it is: Literature, feminism, equality, history, dreams, movies, love, university, childhood memories, present day problems (paying rent and angsting over unwashed dishes), work, photographs, books, poetry, music, love, culture(s), ideologies, travels, wine, religions, human rights, politics, the future, the rising sun, summer, science fiction and fantasy, libraries, erotica, friends, tea, family, philosophy, art, theater, fashion, dancing, dinner parties, jane austen, trains, fika, chocolate, roses, gardens, the archipelago, perfumes, children, stargazing, nature, sitting by the ocean, graphic novels, comics, the scent of a forest after the rain...
60sforever: A Swedish Love Story Japanese Poster

60sforever:

A Swedish Love Story Japanese Poster

jaynajaynajayna:

When Joseph-Nicephore Niepce took the first photograph in 1828, his photographic plate required an exposure of eight hours. That exposure time was drastically reduced across the course of the nineteenth century, so that by the 1890s the Collodion process had cut exposure times to two or three seconds.

Nevertheless, a three second exposure meant that subjects had to stand very still to avoid being blurred, and holding a smile for that period was tricky. As a result, we have a tendency to see our Victorian ancestors as even more formal and stern than they might have been.

These pictures are drawn from the Flickr group “The Smiling Victorian” and show a perhaps surprising side to the people who’s “now” was a hundred years before our own.

(via historicalslut)

liberated-soul: fuckyeahsouthasia: “Seventeen year old Neela is one of more than 2,700 victims of acid attacks in Bangladesh over the past 10 years. ‘My husband was angry…because he claimed a dowry but my family couldn’t provide one’, she says. ‘His plan was to sell me in Saudi Arabia - when I refused he threw acid on me and he fled.’”http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/photo-essay-acid-attack-survivors-fight-back-6267821.html   “Acid is thrown in women’s faces or forced down their throats almost daily in Bangladesh. Such violence melts skin and bone, often resulting in blindness. The country has become a hotspot for acid attacks, mostly on women, because of land disputes, refused marriage proposals and domestic quarrels. A woman’s face is seen as sacred; to permanently scar it brings dishonour on her family and is a public mark of shame. It makes it hard for a woman to get married or gain employment and she becomes a financial and social burden on her family. ActionAid helped to found the Acid Survivors’ Network (ASN), which is a support group for acid victims in Bangladesh.  As well as helping them to regain their confidence, rebuild their lives and help them to earn a living, ASN offers the victims legal support to help prosecute the perpetrators.”

liberated-soul:

fuckyeahsouthasia:


“Seventeen year old Neela is one of more than 2,700 victims of acid attacks in Bangladesh over the past 10 years. ‘My husband was angry…because he claimed a dowry but my family couldn’t provide one’, she says. ‘His plan was to sell me in Saudi Arabia - when I refused he threw acid on me and he fled.’”

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/asia/photo-essay-acid-attack-survivors-fight-back-6267821.html
 

“Acid is thrown in women’s faces or forced down their throats almost daily in Bangladesh. Such violence melts skin and bone, often resulting in blindness. The country has become a hotspot for acid attacks, mostly on women, because of land disputes, refused marriage proposals and domestic quarrels.

A woman’s face is seen as sacred; to permanently scar it brings dishonour on her family and is a public mark of shame. It makes it hard for a woman to get married or gain employment and she becomes a financial and social burden on her family.

ActionAid helped to found the Acid Survivors’ Network (ASN), which is a support group for acid victims in Bangladesh.  As well as helping them to regain their confidence, rebuild their lives and help them to earn a living, ASN offers the victims legal support to help prosecute the perpetrators.”

sacrifices: Real-life Grave of the Fireflies: (Photo) Stoic Japanese orphan, standing at attention having brought his dead younger brother to a cremation pyre, Nagasaki, by Joe O’Donnell 1945 This photograph was taken by an American photojournalist, Joe O’Donnell, in Nagasaki in 1945. He recently spoke to a Japanese interviewer about this picture: “I saw a boy about ten years old walking by. He was carrying a baby on his back. In those days in Japan, we often saw children playing with their little brothers or sisters on their backs, but this boy was clearly different. I could see that he had come to this place for a serious reason. He was wearing no shoes. His face was hard. The little head was tipped back as if the baby were fast asleep. “The boy stood there for five or ten minutes. The men in white masks walked over to him and quietly began to take off the rope that was holding the baby. That is when I saw that the baby was already dead. The men held the body by the hands and feet and placed it on the fire. “The boy stood there straight without moving, watching the flames. He was biting his lower lip so hard that it shone with blood. The flame burned low like the sun going down. The boy turned around and walked silently away.”

sacrifices:

Real-life Grave of the Fireflies: (Photo) Stoic Japanese orphan, standing at attention having brought his dead younger brother to a cremation pyre, Nagasaki, by Joe O’Donnell 1945

This photograph was taken by an American photojournalist, Joe O’Donnell, in Nagasaki in 1945.

He recently spoke to a Japanese interviewer about this picture:

“I saw a boy about ten years old walking by. He was carrying a baby on his back. In those days in Japan, we often saw children playing with their little brothers or sisters on their backs, but this boy was clearly different. I could see that he had come to this place for a serious reason. He was wearing no shoes. His face was hard. The little head was tipped back as if the baby were fast asleep.

“The boy stood there for five or ten minutes. The men in white masks walked over to him and quietly began to take off the rope that was holding the baby. That is when I saw that the baby was already dead. The men held the body by the hands and feet and placed it on the fire.

“The boy stood there straight without moving, watching the flames. He was biting his lower lip so hard that it shone with blood. The flame burned low like the sun going down. The boy turned around and walked silently away.”

(Source: ace-su, via liberated-soul)

staghunts: “This one is very serious, guys: I came upon these two on the sidewalk. They were having a conversation. “Excuse me,” I said, addressing the girl: “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is there anyway I can take your photo?” “Why would you want my photo?” she asked. “Because you look beautiful,” I said. And she did. She was Sudanese. There is a very distinct beauty among people from the Sudan, and she was filled up with it. Suddenly the man cut in:  “I was just telling her she was beautiful,” he said.  Naively, I assumed I had just walked up on one stranger giving a compliment to another. I wanted to capture the moment. “Let me take your photograph together,” I said. The man seemed reluctant, he started smiling nervously and inching away. But the girl called him back.  “Come take a picture with me,” she said. Encouraged by her attention, he returned. She put her arm around him, and I took the photo. As I examined the photos on my camera, the man started whispering to the girl. She answered him in a loud voice: “I told you! I’m not that kind of girl.” She seemed agitated now. Finally sensing that I had misread the situation, I stepped between them. The man began hurrying down the sidewalk. When the man left, the girl’s demeanor changed completely. She seemed shaken. Her eyes were tearing up. “He just offered me five hundred dollars to go out with him,” she said. “And then when I said ‘no,’ he offered me one thousand. Why does this always happen to me?” “It happens a lot?” I asked. “All the time,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m getting emotional. I just can’t go out of my house without this kind of thing happening. I have a son. I’m a mother. I would never degrade myself like that. I just don’t understand why this keeps happening.” “Do you mind if I tell this story?” I asked. “Please,” she said. “Tell it.” Let’s hope this man, and all men, realize the emotional damage they are inflicting on the women they try to buy. In the meantime, feel free to SHARE.*

staghunts:

“This one is very serious, guys:

I came upon these two on the sidewalk. They were having a conversation. “Excuse me,” I said, addressing the girl: “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is there anyway I can take your photo?”

“Why would you want my photo?” she asked.

“Because you look beautiful,” I said. And she did. She was Sudanese. There is a very distinct beauty among people from the Sudan, and she was filled up with it. Suddenly the man cut in: 

“I was just telling her she was beautiful,” he said. 

Naively, I assumed I had just walked up on one stranger giving a compliment to another. I wanted to capture the moment. “Let me take your photograph together,” I said. The man seemed reluctant, he started smiling nervously and inching away. But the girl called him back. 

“Come take a picture with me,” she said. Encouraged by her attention, he returned. She put her arm around him, and I took the photo.

As I examined the photos on my camera, the man started whispering to the girl. She answered him in a loud voice: “I told you! I’m not that kind of girl.” She seemed agitated now. Finally sensing that I had misread the situation, I stepped between them. The man began hurrying down the sidewalk.

When the man left, the girl’s demeanor changed completely. She seemed shaken. Her eyes were tearing up. “He just offered me five hundred dollars to go out with him,” she said. “And then when I said ‘no,’ he offered me one thousand. Why does this always happen to me?”

“It happens a lot?” I asked.

“All the time,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m getting emotional. I just can’t go out of my house without this kind of thing happening. I have a son. I’m a mother. I would never degrade myself like that. I just don’t understand why this keeps happening.”

“Do you mind if I tell this story?” I asked.

“Please,” she said. “Tell it.”

Let’s hope this man, and all men, realize the emotional damage they are inflicting on the women they try to buy. In the meantime, feel free to SHARE.*

(via magierhiland)