“Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.”
― Arthur Rimbaud
“There are times now, and my life has changed so completely, that I think back on the early years and I find myself thinking: It was not that bad. Perhaps it was not. But there are times, too—unexpected—when walking down a sunny sidewalk, or watching the top of a tree bend in the wind, or seeing a November sky close down over the East River, I am suddenly filled with the knowledge of darkness so deep that a sound might escape from my mouth, and I will step into the nearest clothing store and talk with a stranger about the shape of sweaters newly arrived. This must be the way most of us maneuver through the world, half knowing, half not, visited by memories that can’t possibly be true. But when I see others walking with confidence down the sidewalk, as though they are free completely from terror, I realize I don’t know how others are. So much of life seems speculation.”— Elizabeth Strout, My Name is Lucy Barton
Sure, my summer’s — technically — begun about a month ago, but those languid days, I’m afraid I must admit, dear reader, have been whittled away in bed or at various cafes around town.
Twenty-five days down, a hundred and seven more to go.
Here’s how I intend to keep myself productive (and sane) before the time comes for me to pack my bags for London:
get a job read.
It turns out that I don’t particularly want to be employed — not for this summer, at least, and not at a soul-crushing nine-to-five. After all, it must be self-evident that hammering out inane promotional articles at one’s desk simply cannot hold a candle to late morning brunches with my mom and afternoons spent with my best friend, traipsing through museum galleries as we get up to our typical shenanigans. Surely I ought to spend more time with the people that I hardly get to see during the semester?
And so I shall devote some of my time to reading, instead, partly in preparation for the following academic semester (because I’m a nerd), and partly to catch up on my mammoth to-read list.
The following’s some of the books that I intend to finish by the end of this break, though this list will be updated (if I’m not too lazy to do so) as I receive more recommendations and acquire more ‘loot’ from bookstores:
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
Lady Audley’s Secret
The All’s Well That Ends Well
Too Much and Not The Mood
What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours
At Your Own Risk: A Saint’s Testament
Footsteps: Literary Pilgrimages Around The World
On a side note, please do drop me book recommendations, if you have any, for they’ll be much appreciated!
— Lidia Yuknavich in “The Other Side of Burning”, in the May/June issue of Poets & Writers Magazine (2017)
“I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me. I need not flatter any man; he has nothing to give me.”
― Virginia Woolf
“The past is always tense, the future perfect.”
– Zadie Smith
“The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality, I like their completeness, I like their anonymity.” – Virginia Woolf
HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY! What an excuse for me to make yet another doodle and collage of my favourite authoress instead of studying for my linguistics midterms.
“She looked before she drank. Looking was part of drinking. Why waste sensation, she seemed to ask, why waste a single drop that can be pressed out of this ripe, this melting, this adorable world?” — Virginia Woolf, Between The Acts
today I learned that sartre owned a cat named ‘nothing’.
and so my decision to name the cat that i’ll eventually own, when i move out of my parents’ place, ‘woof’ after ‘virginia woo(l)f’ doesn’t seem like such a cruel one, after all.
“It’s bad too to tell you how tired I am — so maddeningly tired — but maybe I have to be tired to wake up — I’ve had enough — I feel bored to distraction with people and things — I’m ready for my own company again and lots of it too.”— Georgia O’Keeffe, from a letter to Alfred Stieglitz featured in My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz: Volume One, 1915-1933