Louise Glück, from “October”, Poems 1962-2012

russian classics aesthetic

Brothers Karamazov: orthodox monasteries, deep woods, starry nights, the sound of paper being torn, dimly lit rooms, withered roses, an unfinished letter, piles of books, the sound of shattering glass, ticking of clocks in a silent house, heavy wooden furniture, the air before a storm, the smell of earth, a crowd of people dressed in black, distant murmurs, emptied streets, the fear of walking alone in dusk

Crime and Punishment: coldness of the skin against a blade, slender pale fingers and slightly shaking hands, a red stain blooming on white fabric, lonely steps in a corridor, the slow dripping of water, looking out of the window into the thickening darkness, a single dying candle on the table, listening to one’s breath and counting heartbeats, too many stairs, the desire to be invisible, a subtle memory of kind word

The Idiot: classical statues, wealth covered with dust, a dark house tainted with inherited madness, an unsettling feeling, long walks in a park, useless chatter, a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench, a melancholic face, an unexpected spring rain, the joy of reading one’s favorite book, the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around, looking at cloudless sky  

Anna Karenina: fields of crops, flowers brought from an early morning walk, the wind caressing a girl’s hair, a bowl of fruit, the smell of ripe pears, the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea, children’s laughter coming from the garden, soft sunlight and white curtains, the sensation of velvet against skin, pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor, a sudden silence in a room full of people

War and Peace: a glass of wine, the brightness of  a crystal chandelier, white lace, a raging snow storm, the sound of a door being gently closed, the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room, indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light, the sound of a saber being drawn, closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing, the sweet smell of strawberries, a pair of gloves left on an armchair, light scent of powder

The Master and Margarita: the chaos of a lively city, ambient jazz in expensive restaurants, jumping on a moving tram, the sight of Moscow from the roof of a house, yellow flowers in a vase, leaning out of the window, shelves stacked with books, a small tin box with old photographs, strange shapes in the night sky, laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony, colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind

Eugene Onegin: a lonely mansion, reading a book in the parlor, faint piano melody lingering in falling silence, long evenings, passing seasons, discussing french novels of the moment, unspoken thoughts, leaning against the door frame, quickly averted glance, eating a peach absent-minded, bright mornings, footprints in snow, a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby   

A Hero of Our Time: byronic boredom, getting up late in the afternoon, the hidden unspeakable sadness of existence, shakespeare’s tragedy opened next to untouched breakfast, cigarette smoke, polished boots, walking with one’s coat wide open letting the night chill break through to the bone, carved wooden chair, fading warmth of the ashes late in the evening, the thought of farewell  

Fathers and Sons: birch groves, morning mist, moss covered stones near a  moor, scientific books, white roses, cheap champagne, shabby pocket-watch, light-hearted irony, a maladroit cello sonata, freshly mowed grass, leaving thoughts come and go, a slow yawn, picturesque plates and bowls filled with traditional dishes, drinking tea on the porch, longing for the future   

Doctor Zhivago: a strange feeling of loss, writing poems in a diary, traveling by train, the hesitation before touching someone’s hand, the gaze of one lost in thought, the warmth of cinnamon, a scarf brightly embellished with flowers, a glass of water, two people listening each on the other side of the door, a threadbare jacket, the tempting void, the evanescent serenity of yesterday  

Dead Souls: horses in a merry gallop, delicious smells mingled, grotesque and bizarre tragedy, luxurious attire cheap soul, masks, a perfumed love letter, the triumph of sarcasm, an unattached wheel rolling down a dusty road, the atmosphere of commedia dell’ arte, puzzling speeches, a baffling caricature drawn on a handkerchief   

Cherry Orchard: a lone chair in an empty room, falling blossoms, old samovar, the unsettling need for change, a mirror reflecting full moon, the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance, a piano out of tune      

This came across my tiktok months ago, and I couldn’t put my finger on what the aesthetic was. But this is Dark Academia if I’ve ever seen it. It takes my mind to a place I know exists, but I’ve never been.

Art school critiques 🥴

одинокая элодея

С понедельника стартует неделя реферата по истории

Russian Tsaritsas

(1472-1598)

Ivan the Terrible and the Souls of His Victims, Mikhail Petrovich Klodt (1835-1914)

“Local fog in Venice has a name: nebbia. It obliterates all reflections … and everything that has a shape: buildings, people, colonnades, bridges, statues. Boat services are canceled, airplanes neither arrive, nor take off for weeks, stores are closed and mail ceases to litter one’s threshold. The effect is as though some raw hand had turned all those enfilades inside out and wrapped the lining around the city… the fog is thick, blinding, and immobile… this is a time for reading, for burning electricity all day long, for going easy on self-deprecating thoughts of coffee, for listening to the BBC World Service, for going to bed early. In short, a time for self-oblivion, induced by a city that has ceased to be seen. Unwittingly, you take your cue from it, especially if, like it, you’ve got company. Having failed to be born here, you at least can take some pride in sharing its invisibility…”    – Joseph Brodsky // Watermark

Times are troubling and hard right now-but never forget, your Beet loving Grandmother loves you very very much and wants you to be safe.

And for you to eat your vegetables.

reading about random things. educating yourself on cultures that died ages ago. excitement in learning new languages. having a cup of hot coffee/tea on a rainy sunday morning. staying up late to finish reading that one book. quoting shakespeare for no specific reason. listening to slow music while doing school work. singing your favorite song off key when no one is watching. smiling at animals. wearing clothes that makes you feel comfortable. laying on bed after a long tiring day. late night drives on empty roads. complimenting strangers. helping an elderly person to cross the road. hugging your best friend. smell of earth after rain. making others laugh. holding hands. 

bro stop chanting in dead languages you’re scaring the hoes

there’s such an unhealthy stigma, especially in academic communities, surrounding taking time off or dropping out. putting education above your health and well-being isn’t okay and should not be the standard. obviously there are positives to school/college/uni, but the environment created by the education system can be so horrifically damaging in so many ways, and demonising stepping away from or leaving it only makes it worse. as much as education is important, your health and well-being are infinitely more so. 

it is okay to take breaks. it’s okay to take a year off. it’s okay to leave if that’s what you need to do. dropping out does not make you stupid, nor does it make you a failure. take care of yourself first and foremost. traditional education is not the only way to learn.

knowledge is everything. educate yourself on whatever speaks to you. master whatever moves you.

A Perfectly Normal Interview with Carmen Maria Machado Where Everything Is Fine

Ruth Bader Ginsburg was appointed to the bench twenty-five years ago today, but she was a groundbreaking litigator for women’s rights long before then. Her greatest legacy may even be in the cases that she argued as an advocate before what was then an all-male Supreme Court—and won. Click the link in our bio to see images of the Justice growing up, from a young girl in Brooklyn to a law graduate who left Columbia as co-valedictorian (but with no job offers) to a young mother and the phenomenon we now know as R.B.G.