Héhé, moi aussi !
13.03.2026 08:55
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Héhé, moi aussi !
MERCI. 🥰 Ça fait du bien de changer de tête. C'est une coupe qu'on m'avait interdite parce que "tu comprends, ça n'ira pas à un visage rond comme le tien" et j'ai décidé que merde. Mon visage m'appartient, aucune coupe n'est réservée à un physique très mince, rébellion. J'en suis très heureuse !
(Rien à voir mais on notera également sur la photo mon soutien à la série animée #LaQuêtedEwilan qui est, disons-le, une magnifique adaptation des livres de Pierre Bottero.)
Pour les personnes qui ne savent pas, j'ai déjà un historique d'adoption d'animaux à plumes - deux poules, par exemple. Deux poules très câlines restées chez mes parents à la campagne.
Ces pigeons apprivoisés sont tout aussi affectueux, paraît-il ! Et ont l'habitude de vivre en appart parisien.
C'est le moment de vous révéler à quel point j'ai traversé une phase triste et pas drôle. Ce geste, changer de coupe, c'est mon moment Mulan.
Aussi j'adopte bientôt deux pigeons domestiques. Stay tuned.
Merci à la coiffeuse du magnifique Studio Monah plein de personnes queer. Qui m'a reçue avec pour seule consigne "j'aime les oiseaux et je voudrais une coupe aérienne" et quelques photos !
On a qualifié mon changement de tête de coiffure d'elfe, de Lumine, de corbeau, de waifu des années 90, d'inspiration pour un chara design de jeu vidéo, et de fesses de 🐔. J'adore chacune de ces qualifications. Vous êtes géniaux.
Sortie le 7 mai : Comment écrire de la fiction ? 65 Maladresses des jeunes manuscrits
La première maladresse, et c'est dans le livre, c'est : "Ne pas travailler comme on en a besoin" – et j'avais besoin, au cours du projet interminable qu'est La Succession des Âges (un point de situation détaillé…
Récap des évènement de printemps des IANA ! On a hâte d’entamer cette nouvelle saison de salons et dédicaces en tous genre... 😊
@barbaramayol.bsky.social @benjaminlupu.net @lordystardust.bsky.social @kastavrou.bsky.social sky.social @mremond.bsky.social @noemyrina.bsky.social @sarnier.bsky.social
Rien de tel, pour un premier post par ici, que l'actu de la famille de plume. 2026 s'annonce formidable !
Les IANA sur Bluesky : @barbaramayol.bsky.social @benjaminlupu.net @lordystardust.bsky.social @kastavrou.bsky.social @mremond.bsky.social @noemyrina.bsky.social @sarnier.bsky.social
“Hell yeah!” Screams a crow against a rainbow backdrop, their eyes sparkling in trans colors.
The crow is clearly the Chaotic Queer Corvid Collector familiar, now showing off their rainbow tipped chest feathers as they raise their wings and smile, “Real artists are still making cool shit!”
📣🐦⬛ real artists making cool shit! 🎨🌈
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An illustration of an old truck in the woods filled with pumpkins, with a pumpkin frog, several ghost frogs, and ravens about
welcome autumn! 🍂 🎃
![[...]
with all the shit they throw at you, how do you, like the pigeons, not give a fuck?
How do you take their tools of violence, their spikes and poisons and architecture of rejection, and turn it into a place to rest, to resist, to refuse, to begin again and anew?
To hold on to something that wasn't supposed to survive?
And in that question, what becomes more and more urgent to me is this: there is no pure place waiting for us.
No serene after. No untouched before. There is no return.
No original home that hasn't already been turned to ash, paved over, turned into parking lots, or over-mythologized to the point of disappearance.
Sanctuary isn't out there, someday. Just like there's no place left to go back to.
Violence won't disappear. But maybe, just maybe there's another way to live with it.
What we have is here.
This mess. This grief.
These haunted cities built on stolen land and stitched together with surveillance cameras.
This world, fraying at the edges, sinking, spilling, aching.
And still it's here that pigeons build their nests. It's here that sanctuary begins.
It's not a wall.
Sanctuary is not escape. Not a fence. Not a border or a locked gate.
Sanctuary asks:
What do we do in the filth? How do we respond to a collapsing world?
How are we in relation?
How do we love?
How radical is our love?
How do we organize?
How do we listen?
How do we stand
even with trembling knees against cruelty, punishment, and pride?
How inclusive is our love?
Are we only loving when it's easy? Or are we loving when it costs us something?
I believe it lives in how we stay close
to what scares us. How we sit with what hurts, until it begins to unravel us at the seams.
Right here
where we make friends with our demons. Where we give up the chase for revenge. Where we stop. And refuse.
Not passively.
But actively
through how we love and forgive
thank you lovely pigeon"](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:nir4547i63s5plxcz43l3kx4/bafkreibtqwsrxmsw2ht4q7arct4kuq5tdcgm2rqt3pelae5772asut2ycm)
[...] with all the shit they throw at you, how do you, like the pigeons, not give a fuck? How do you take their tools of violence, their spikes and poisons and architecture of rejection, and turn it into a place to rest, to resist, to refuse, to begin again and anew? To hold on to something that wasn't supposed to survive? And in that question, what becomes more and more urgent to me is this: there is no pure place waiting for us. No serene after. No untouched before. There is no return. No original home that hasn't already been turned to ash, paved over, turned into parking lots, or over-mythologized to the point of disappearance. Sanctuary isn't out there, someday. Just like there's no place left to go back to. Violence won't disappear. But maybe, just maybe there's another way to live with it. What we have is here. This mess. This grief. These haunted cities built on stolen land and stitched together with surveillance cameras. This world, fraying at the edges, sinking, spilling, aching. And still it's here that pigeons build their nests. It's here that sanctuary begins. It's not a wall. Sanctuary is not escape. Not a fence. Not a border or a locked gate. Sanctuary asks: What do we do in the filth? How do we respond to a collapsing world? How are we in relation? How do we love? How radical is our love? How do we organize? How do we listen? How do we stand even with trembling knees against cruelty, punishment, and pride? How inclusive is our love? Are we only loving when it's easy? Or are we loving when it costs us something? I believe it lives in how we stay close to what scares us. How we sit with what hurts, until it begins to unravel us at the seams. Right here where we make friends with our demons. Where we give up the chase for revenge. Where we stop. And refuse. Not passively. But actively through how we love and forgive thank you lovely pigeon"
🖤
"Images that completely turn my❤️to jelly these days are pigeons building nests on antipigeon spikes.
Finding home in the cracks of a hostile world.
Building sanctuary in the filth, the noise, and all the myriad ways they're told: you don't belong here. we don't want you.
And I ask myself:
[Cf alt]
Chaque année, des milliers de corneilles sont tuées. Pourquoi cette solution ne sert strictement à rien www.lezephyrmag.com/destruction-...
Frustrated little dude gripping a pencil saying “how do I pack this down into something I can actually share?” While swirling rainbows labeled “INFINITE POTENTIAL” float around them. Little dude frowns at a tiny grey box, exclaiming “all that work for THIS?!” Little dude shoves the grey box into another little guy’s hands; Frowning, stomping off, and saying “Here you go, I made this, it sucks.” Second little dude cracks open the box, swirling rainbows project out onto their face. Second little dude stares in awe at all the swirling rainbows now floating around them.
Sometimes we’re unsatisfied with a thing we made because when it only existed in our head, we saw all the things it could have been and when it’s done we know all the things that it isn’t, but we can’t see the way it expands into a million new things when someone else unpacks it in their head. 🖊️🦑
Yay bienvenue Noëmie ! 🧡
Half body illustration of Neve and Rook from Dragon Age: Veilguard. Both are sitting down next to a bay window. Rook is kissing Neve's shoulder while she looks fondly at Rook.
Close up
[ #art ]
🧡💚
Commission for @vacantghouls.bsky.social
Nounou Ogg. Une vieille sorcière fumant la pipe et jouant du banjo, assise dans un fauteuil. Elle tape du pied de ses souliers rouges, et à côté d'elle, un chat borgne à l'oreille à demi-arrachée affiche un air mauvais.
10 ans aujourd'hui. GNU Terry Pratchett
The world's on fire, make friends with crows. 🐦⬛💕🦐
Couverture des Ombres de Willowthorne
La première dédicace de Willowthorne, ce sera à Paris à la super librairie le Nuage Vert (pas loin du Jardin des Plantes), le 6 février à 19h30.
Comme la librairie est très cool mais pas très grande, c'est uniquement sur inscription (via le Facebook ou l'Instagram de la librairie).
Protect Trans Youth logo
Now more than ever 🏳️⚧️
Do not obey. Disobey. As much as you can. As much as you need. Disobey and exist in spaces where your joy and self actualization are against the rules.
Disobey.
Un appel à texte autour de Lovecraft ! ➡https://t.ly/Ghrzq
A vos claviers !
#Lovecraft @miskatonicasso.bsky.social #HPL #Appelatexte
My page on Bluesky is a safe space and you will always be welcome and safe here 🏳️⚧️
Please, be careful everyone 🙏
C'est trop drôle qu'il soit mort à l'anniversaire des attentats de Charlie, ce matin les bourgeois sortaient des "je suis charlie" et "on doit pouvoir rire de tout", et cet après-midi on peut tester en direct leurs convictions
Cover design and illustration for « La Mer Chantera ton Nom » by Laura Nsafou (Albin Michel)
Omg mais félicitations !!!!!!
Je confirme qu'il claque, ce recueil.