Avoidance

"

Don’t ask me why my happiness has perished,
Why I don’t love the love that pleased me then,
No longer can I call someone my cherished—
Who once felt love will never love again;

Who once felt bliss, no more will feel its essence,
A moment’s happiness is all that we receive:
From youth, prosperity and joyful pleasantry,
All that is left is apathy and grief…

" 

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin, Don’t Ask Me Why

Mental breakdown time, you guys.  Just had a good cry in the bathroom.  Finals, I h8 u.

"Next to the sisters is another girl. She is a beauty who was outfitted by the top dressmaker in Moscow; she’s wearing lovely, dainty little shoes. She looks as though she will be the bane of our existence." 

Sofia Khvoshchinskaia, Reminisces of Institute Life

zaidxxil:

Le Sacre du Printemps

We did some cut and paste in my Narrative class last week… Basically as we sketched we ripped and put back together our drawings.  I really loved it, and got a lot out of it, though everyone else in my class got very abstract and messy and I just reverted back to my second true love, collage.

         There are those who have no time to do anything but toil; those who, by no design of theirs, must work to survive - and thus they feel the pain or pleasure of that work.  Much of the men and women in texts are not such active laborers, and their stories are those of aristocrats languishing in ennui, or the bourgeois clambering for love and connections and success (of which they have little and will find little).  This can illustrate a number of things about social stratification, but it can also illustrate this: that when people have the time for comfort and solitude they will still throw themselves into the tragedies of companionship, love, and hate - often repeatedly.  People would rather be unhappy than feel nothing, and would rather be rejected than know no one.

"For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints." 

Robert Louis Stevenson, An Inland Voyage  (via liquidnight)

Persian angel, 1555

lagubeko:

Daniel Dove.

cocotazo:

Katherine Bradford

slugbait:

Sangram Majumdar
as if, 66 x 72 in, oil on linen, 2012

 http://www.sangrammajumdar.com/2012.html