grace

grace / infj / ravenclaw /old books & late nights & big dresses & sprawling cities & fairytales & art & wanderlust & stars

[thecollectibles]

LUSH Series - Gouache by Madeleine Bellwoar

[whitepeopletwitter]

[asoftwrongness]

ode to Flora

[battlechick]

this is literally the sweetest thing ever 🥺

[gay-hamlet]

just remembered that chuck palahniuk quote

[gay-hamlet]

“your handwriting. the way you walk. which china pattern you choose. it’s all giving you away. everything you do shows your hand. everything is a self portrait. everything is a diary.” going off the rails my good folks

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

“Do you imagine at night someone going to bed the very moment you are going to bed? Turning out the light? And isn’t it so quiet you swear the heart is telepathic. Isn’t it–”

— Beckian Fritz Goldberg, from “Eros in His Striped Shirt,” In the Badlands of Desire (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 1993)

[hedgehog-moss]

this post about the RMS Carpathia:

At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.

and this one about our robots meeting future aliens:

but we built robots, who have beat-up hulls and metal brains, and who have names; and if the other people come and say, who were these people? what were they like?

the robots can say, when they made us, they called us discovery; they called us curiosity; they called us explorer; they called us spirit. they must have thought that was important.

and the I Have Seen the Top of Clouds essay:

The only thing we can say for sure is that we will die, but we will die having gone so far above our primordial ponds and primate forests that we saw the tops of clouds.

have different starting points but all reach a similar conclusion, which might be, quoting the first post, “It matters that they cared, and it matters that they tried.”

[la-petitefille-deactivated20210]

“I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.”

— Brian Andreas, Story People (via thelovejournals)

[angesirene]

“To dream of souls in flowers, to dream of gentle smiles,”

— Juan Ramón Jiménez, tr by Robert Bly, from “Nocturne,” wr. c. 1903 (via niimph)

[lizziebennet]

to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you down like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.

Ellen Bass, “The Thing Is”  (via lizziebennet)

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

every morning i wake up & get my coffee & i recite in my head this excerpt from ‘invitation,’ by mary oliver:  “it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world.” & i just say it over & over again until it sticks to my mind for the rest of the day. it is a serious thing. i am alive. i am so lucky. this fresh morning i get the chance to live again & again & again

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

every morning i wake up & get my coffee & i recite in my head this excerpt from ‘invitation,’ by mary oliver:  “it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world.” & i just say it over & over again until it sticks to my mind for the rest of the day. it is a serious thing. i am alive. i am so lucky. this fresh morning i get the chance to live again & again & again

[fdcastamere]

Visit Original Link

In the late spring of 1193, Richard I composed a song. It was a ballad of melancholy and abandonment, of frustration and homesickness. The haunting melody accompanied lyrics written in Occitan. It is known, after its first line, as ‘Ja nus hons pris’. It is a song that would survive more than eight centuries.

The lyrics of the two most famous verses are:

Ja nus hons pris ne dira sa raison

adroitement, se dolantement non;

Mes par confort puet il fere chancon.

Moult ai amis, mes povre sont li don;

honte en avront, se por ma reancon

sui ces deus yvers pris.

Ce sevent bien mi homme et mi baron,

Englois, Normant, Poitevin et Gascon,

que je n’avoie si povre compaignon,

cui je laissasse por avoir en prixon.

Je nei di pas por nule retracon,

mes encor suit ge pris.

———

No man imprisoned tells his story

rightfully, as if he were not sorrowful;

but for comfort he can write a song.

I have many friends, but poor are their gifts;

shame on them, if for my ransom

I must be two winters imprisoned.

It is well known by my men and my barons,

English, Norman, Poitevin and Gascon,

that I do not have the poorest companion

whom I would leave to remain in prison.

I don’t say this for their reproach,

but still, I am imprisoned

Dan Jones, ‘The Plantagenets: The Warrior Kings and Queens Who Made England’

[post--grad]

absolutely nobody requested this, it’s mid-august and 105 degrees outside, here it is anyway. as usual, this is based on my own personal taste, which turns to delta blues, spiked cider, and ghost stories in the fall. italics are favorites. (winter) (summer)

jams

spooky: creepy covers / southern gothic megamix / in the woods / witch hymns / dark delta blues / me & the devil

indie & folk: as autumn leaves turn / a chill in the air / cozy log cabin / fallen leaves 

instrumental: autumn rhapsody / november / infinite instrumentals / autumn overture

ambiance

stovetop magic. put a 2 or 3 cups of water in a small saucepan. add apple slices, orange peel, cloves, and cinnamon. heat on low until your whole house smells amazing. don’t forget to turn the burner off when you’re done.

pomanders, you guys. get yourself some firm oranges and stick some cloves into them. dry them for a few days in a cold, dry room, or dust with orris root to keep from getting moldy. you can leave them in a bowl or hang them up by the window, and they smell incredible. (example - you don’t have to score the peel if you don’t want to)

it’s decorative gourd season.

candles! fall is a good time for darker, woodsier scents – cedar, fir, etc. i still like my candles to smell light and clean, though, so finding a “heavier” scent cut with a sharper one – citrus, lemongrass – is nice.

background sounds: hogwarts library / autumn cold front / autumn in the suburbs / the comforts of home / autumn crows / kitchen witchery

study break material

spooky book recs (crowdsourced)

movies & tv

100 halloween movies (missing practical magic, the best spooky movie in existence)

best halloween tv specials (again, i’m offended, the psych specials aren’t listed)

most popular horror tv series

ghost adventures masterpost

snacks

beverage of choice: warm spiced cider. heat up some cider in a saucepan before you pour it into a to-go mug. maybe get fancy and drop a cinnamon stick in there. i use trader joe’s spiced cider because i’m no longer living in the land of a thousand apple orchards.

the adult version: hard cider (or a pumpkin beer!) with a cinnamon sugar rim. dip the rim of a tall glass in your choice of liquid – i usually just use water, but you can also use simple syrup, apple juice, or even maple syrup for a stickier rim. then dip it in a mix of cinnamon and sugar. pour your cold cider in there and enjoy~

homemade salted pumpkin seeds. pumpkins: in season, ubiquitous, cheap. buy an ugly-lookin one from the discount bin, scoop out the guts and separate the seeds into a bowl. swish them around in water until they’re mostly clean and pat dry on a paper towel. add olive oil and salt (and pepper, if you like), pour them onto a tray, and bake for 30-40 minutes at 300. yields a crunchy, salty snack that’ll last you a few days. 

that’s the classic version; here are six different seasoning options.

you can add those seeds to other seasonal trail mix ingredients (granola, pretzels, dried cranberries, nuts, etc.) for a snack that’ll last a full week.

in-season veggies: squash, broccoli & cauliflower, brussels sprouts, radish, lettuce & chard, mushrooms, sweet potatoes, turnips, pumpkin.

in-season fruit: pears, apples, cranberries, grapes, kumquats, pineapple, persimmons, pomegranates.

baked goods

pumpkin bread (or pumpkin muffins, you know yourself best)

pear cranberry gingersnap crumble. it’s so good. i’ve made it three times now and every time it blows my mind

easy apple cake i beg my roommate to make me every few months

mini french apple cakes, in case you want to take a fancier apple-themed bake break.

actually, just have smitten kitchen’s entire fall line-up. 

study advice

open that window! it’s crisp as hell out there!

it often feels like september is the real beginning of the new year, rather than january 1. it’s a good time to do some cleansing & purging. organize your desk! donate some clothes! sage your whole house to dispel negative energies!

if you’re trying to start out organized, this term-long to-do list might help you out.

set a budget for your school supply shopping, and for god’s sake, take stock of what you already have in the back of your closet before you buy 7 more notebooks.

layer. you know those academic buildings haven’t figured out how their climate control works yet, plus it’ll be cool in the morning and roasting by two, so give yourself some options.

i know many of us really look forward to getting back into the school schedule after the summer, but it’s okay if you’re not feeling energetic or excited about it. it’s really okay. just do yr best :)

[ahsteria]

tag yourself ; times of day

dawn - herbal tea, clouds turning pink as the sun enters the sky, thick blankets, falling cherry blossom petals, washing their face with cold water, natural hair

noon - light wash jeans, rainbow sprinkles, wishing on dandelions, lips shining with gloss, spinning a pen between their fingers, skin stained with paint

twilight - a gleam in their eyes, doodling potential tattoos on their arms, finding cute tops in thrift shops, breathing in stardust, an open mind

dusk - flickering candles, taking long showers, holding someone close, walking in the rain, peaceful thoughts, letters from a lover, silk nightclothes

eve - watching the stars through a vintage telescope, lying in bed with headphones on, homemade cookies and milk, streetlights illuminating their face

midnight - nostalgia from watching old cartoons, driving on an empty road, neon signs, adrenaline, speaking to strangers, feeling alive, red lipstick

[bakwaaas]

someone said ‘the version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility’ and wow

[sometimestuesday-deactivated202]

I think you wrote something once and I can’t find it or exactly remember but I think it went like this “There should be a word for the feeling you get when you’re in an airport in a city you’ve never been to and you hear someone call your name and you turn around for a second” did you write that? Sorry this is such a weird request but it’s been bugging me

megan practices ballet on the roof, asks ‘how long do you think I canstay up here before people start to get suspicious of my intentions?’

              here’s a rule of thumb:almost everything you do is just fine right up until somebodyhands you medicine for it

quick, someone look up a meaning for the word ‘human’– no, not the noun I mean the adjectiveok, ‘forgivable.’wow how great is that? and what a relief too! and the trees laugh & the frogslaugh & the dirt laughs & everything else in the universe laughs             knowing humans wrote the dictionary

i’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that thingsexist even when there’s not a word for them.              ‘like you know what I mean like that feeling you have when you’realone in an airport for a 3 hr layover in a city where no one you knowlives

       & you hear someone say your name                 & in that brief moment before you realize they’re talking       to somebody else, you look up.why isn’t there a word for that very specific kind of loneliness?’