This Tree Is Growing 40 Different Kinds Of Fruit At Once

This single (and quite colorfully blossoming) tree grows 40 different varieties of peaches, plums, apricots, nectarines, cherries, and even almonds — but just how does it do it?

It does it through the process of chip grafting. After sculptor Sam Van Aken bought a failing orchard in upstate New York full of hundreds of different fruit trees, he began the pain-staking process of grafting several of the different varieties together into one tree. Six years later, the result is this 40-fruit bearing tree, which includes some heirloom varieties that are centuries old.

Image: Sam Van Aken


Jesus and I thought I had identity problems.

“Where are those old friends with whom in years gone by I felt so closely united? Now it seems as if we belonged to different worlds, and no longer spoke the same language! Like a stranger and an outcast, I move among them—not one of their words or looks reaches me any longer. I am dumb for no one understands my speech—ah, but they never did understand me! It is terrible to be condemned to silence when one has so much to say.

Was I made for solitude or for a life in which there was no one to whom I could speak? The inability to communicate one’s thoughts is in very truth the most terrible of all kinds of loneliness. Difference is a mask which is more ironbound than any iron mask.”

Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to his sister (1886)  (via violentwavesofemotion)

Song to the Siren by Cocteau Twins • 4 plays



"Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow:
O my heart, O my heart shies from the sorrow” 

I am puzzled as the newborn child
I am riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Should I lie with Death my bride?
Hear me sing, “Swim to me, Swim to me, Let me enfold you:
Here I am, Here I am, Waiting to hold you”

my favorite version  

especially during these times, I think that the most...


especially during these times, I think that the most important thing for Muslim women to be doing is exactly what men do to be considered “a man,” and that’s fostering independence. 

whether it’s considered cultural or religious (or perhaps even both, which is what usually happens with Muslims), daughters are especially treated as delicate entities by which many insist that they should never be harmed by the very harsh world. And yet, people fail to realize that women already battle the harsh world physically, emotionally, and sometimes even mentally. 

It’s unfortunate because the double standards cut deeper than the very harsh world many assume women cannot overcome. When young boys graduate any form of schooling, attain their own residence, start collecting their very own income, it’s considered a respectable aspect of their growth. But if women insist, especially if Muslim women insist, to graduate with their PhD, attain their own income, move out before they get married, it’s considered blasphemous and shameful.

I wish I can tell you that this isn’t Islamic, but Muslims have made this Islamic (and yet continually forget the life of Khadijah, especially her life before marrying Muhammad). I wish I can tell young girls whom I teach that the intertwining of their ethnic and religious culture does not affect how their decisions for the future will be viewed by others, but it will, and it does.

Tomorrow, if I were to choose to move out, continue with my schooling, put my relationship status on a hold, and work a job that I love, I would be a shame to the family. But if my older cousin were to attain all of these things, he would be considered manly and wise. 

So what’s a woman to do? What’s a Muslim woman to do? Follow your heart; follow your head, too; don’t be disappointed at the people who will never come to understand you, and hold tight on to those who care about your ambitions and your dreams. Do what you believe is the best thing for you, and tawakal ‘ala Allah. 


If the breeze, in the garden of memory,
Wants to scatter the petals; then, let it be.
The pain, resting in some niche of the bygone age,
If wishes to kindle again; then, let it be.
Although you behave like a stranger now, so what;
Come and spend some time, face to face.

—Faiz Ahmad Faiz, from “Let It Be” in Memory Poetry of Faiz Ahmad Faiz. Vudya Kitaban Forlag, 1987

“And why don’t you write? Write! Writing is for you, you are for you; your body is yours, take it. I know why you haven’t written. (And why I didn’t write before the age of twenty-seven.) Because writing is at once too high, too great for you, it’s reserved for the great - that is, for ‘great men’; and it’s ‘silly.’ Besides, you’ve written a little, but in secret. And it wasn’t good, because it was in secret, and because you punished yourself for writing, because you didn’t go all the way…”

The Laugh of the Medusa | Hélène Cixous (via missmaudlin)

“Woman must write her self: must write about women and bring women to writing, from which they have been driven away as violently as from their own bodies. Woman must put herself into the text - by her own movement.”

Helene Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa (1975)

    Send me a cup of coffee.

  • Espresso: Describe your usual morning routine.
  • Decaf: Impersonate one of your friends.
  • Macchiato: Name two things you think go well together and why.
  • Latte: List three aspects of your personality that you love.
  • Flat White: Confess the most recent crime you committed.
  • Iced: Make the weirdest face you can.
  • Cappuccino: Describe your ideal wedding.
  • Drip: Post a photo of a stuffed animal you own.
  • Mocha: Name one of your guilty pleasures.
  • Doppio: List two of your dream travel locations and why.
  • Black: Recall the worst insult you've ever received.
  • Americano: Post a photo of your favorite outfit.
  • Kopi: Describe an incident when you tried something new.




Gaza Artist Turns Israeli Air Strike Smoke into Powerful Sketches

As the world looks on with horror at the growing civilian toll in Gaza, and Hamas and Israel consider the terms of a U.S.-proposed ceasefire, one young Palestinian architect is responding to the crisis through art. Gaza-based Tawfik Gebreel aims to send a message, in the “universal humanitarian language understood by all peoples of the world.” He is using photos of the smoke thrown up by rocket strikes and reworking the images with symbols of hope and unity.

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