Bella

21 : She/Her

[ablogofnature]

Source

[eesirachs]

summer reading list—unconventional critical religious theory

catherine keller; face of the deep

minnie khumalo; "judges 19 and non-con: sado-kantian aesthetics of violence in the tale of an unnamed woman," in rape culture and religious studies

griselda pollock; "femininity: aporia or difference," in the matrixial borderspace

monica r. miller, "i am a nappy-headed ho: (re)signifying 'deviance' in the haraam of religious respectability," in ain't i a womanist too

avivah zornberg, the murmuring deep: reflections on the biblical unconsious

saidiya hartman, "venus in two acts"

avgi saketopoulou, sexuality beyond consent: risk, race, traumatophilia

rhiannon graybill, are we not men? unstable masculinity in the hebrew prophets

vanessa sinclair, the queerness of psychoanalysis

sigmund freud, introductory lectures

alphonso lingis, excesses

kristeva, revolution in poetic language

elizabeth grosz, volatile bodies: toward a corporal feminism

luis menéndez-antuña, bridging the interpretive abyss

griselda pollock, psychoanalysis and the image

kristen neumann, the routledge handbook of senses in the ancient near east

elizabeth wright, psychoanalytic criticism

mieke bal, death and dissymmetry: the politics of coherence in the book of judges

reed calrson, unfamiliar selves: possession and other spirit phenomena

marcella althaus-reid, indecent theology: perversions in sex, gender, and politics

black and koosed, reading with feeling: affect theory and the bible

papenberg and zarzycka, carnal aesthetics: transgressive imagery and feminist politics

[bobbole]

Thanassis Stavrakis, A man carrying a sheep on a motorcycle during a wildfire in Patras, western Greece, August 2025

[havingapoemwithyou]

Advice by Langston Hughes

[paper-wounds]

Fortesa Latifi, from The Truth About Grief.

[shopping4images]

not every shadow is yours

acrylic paint, pencil, archival inkjet print on canvas 30x40”

2025

Tashi Salsedo

[ashstfu]

my god, i crave slowness. deliberate living. conversations that last entire afternoons.

[ashstfu]

i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

[aaaangel444]

[hollywoodsdeadyeah]

[ashstfu]

propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins

[mercysmixtape]

March 8

The last day of a trip is a curse and a blessing.

I miss my mom, my home, my bed, my routine, but mostly my mom. I've decided I don't want to live without her. At most, a couple houses down the street. I know I can do this on my own now. (The first day, I wasn't so sure.) But I'd rather do it with her. It's not necessarily an amazing experience if she hasn't had it too. I enjoyed the trip, don't get me wrong, but I feel the need in my bones to come back, come back with my best friend and show her around, explore together instead of separately.

I'm grateful for the lovely souls I've met on this trip. Different, yet delightful and authentic. Isabella, Abigail, Kayla, Jordan, Claire, Payton, Adrienne, Chinyere, and Sophie, thank you for accepting me into the group of amazing, diverse creatures that perfectly compliment each other. I can't forget about Ryan, Wil, and Orion, of course. (And Jackson and Samantha, who I didn't get to know that much, but seem like incredibly kind people.) And I won't forget how we were treated by others, and I promise to always defend you. You all have a right to be angry and fight for yourselves. (Especially you two, Abigail and Claire. Nothing will take away your unique experiences as Jewish people, especially not some gossiping Christians/Agnostics taking 'cute' pictures in front of Jewish memorials. Always fight for yourselves and others as fiercely as they fight against you. And Chinyere, too, for what was said about black individuals in Austria. We will know history as it was, and fight to the ends of the earth for it, even against our colleagues. And gossip is never acceptable, but especially when it is in the form of a stab in the back. And Kayla, too, for being disrespected as not only a human, but as a woman surrounded by strangers in a foreign country. You have the right to stand up for yourself and I'm very proud of you for doing so. Also, tell me how things go with the German guy.)

I know most of us will keep in touch. I already have plans with someone after we get back home. It feels difficult for me to meet people who are similar to me. I feel quite different from those around me, and feel the need to alter myself to fit their interpretations of what the best person should be. I'm thankful that I could be my authentic self with all of you. I felt supported and I hope you felt the same with me. We've only known each other for a few days, but I feel no shame in saying that I will miss you all and think of you frequently.

(Miles walked)

And, of course, thank you Dr. Hansen-Glucklich and Dr. Rotter for the opportunity of this experience.

(Feat. Operation Wild Goose Chase)

[mercysmixtape]

March 7

Today was a day full of friends.

I grew up homeschooled. Social anxiety plagued me from a very young age. Introversion has been part of my soul from my creation. I've found it difficult to gain friends.

I'm thankful for the ones I've met here. We liked the small town, the quiantness drew us in more than the noise and hustle of the city. I got to know people on a deep level, something that I remember daydreaming about as a child, in my bedroom, without anyone to call my friend. I think I like this feeling.

[mercysmixtape]

March 6

Today, I confronted the norms of rich and poor, and lose.

I wonder why people feel the need to have so much money. I think we've decided cohesively that wealth is power. If one wishes to show off, they should show the money they have. I understand, unfortunately, from a capitalist American point of view, though. You hate rich people, but you want to be them still. I just don't want to focus on money and gold things. In a Catholic church, I feel like it is double-sided. The Bible says to give what you don't need; we don't need these gold-leafed paintings and sculptures carved out of marble. As pretty as it is, it isn't necessary. Anyway, that's what I thought about while visiting the church and parliament today. Oh, don't even get me started on parliament. Having conversations about houseless people in a building filled with enough gold to cure world hunger feels a bit sickening to me, personally.

And the shoes, oh, those shoes. Interestingly enough, I felt more emotional looking at the shoes than going to Mauthausen. Perhaps because I could see individual people, human beings, living and breathing and breaking souls. Mauthausen is only a place—a place where people died, yes, but the stench is gone. The bones are buried and burned into the air, returning to the earth years earlier. The shoes are permanent, left in the wake of a red river. Flowers and rocks aren't enough to compensate for the souls, young and old, that left the earth too early.

[mercysmixtape]

March 5

Today, I was met with death.

It was a little difficult to face it with last year's events. My little girl, my papa, gone just like that. It was jarring for my mind to comprehend the amount of death I was surrounded with. The birds, the crows, the bugs, the flowers, the friends, they remind me, though, of life.

I wonder how many people grieved as I do. And how many people are still grieving. There is no time limit, and there's no starting point. Sometimes, I feel like I've gone through it, then I travel back to the beginning... Today reminded me to schedule an appointment with my therapist.

[mercysmixtape]

March 4

Today, we visited Mauthausen.

I saw one of the girls crying. It reminded me that I have become desensitized to this event. Too much information is too overwhelming; the mind cannot comprehend that much tragedy. It shuts down. This sometimes reflects itself in the form of suppression or denial, or a complete disinterest. I know we are not supposed to discuss politics. Therefore, I will only say that it feels eerily similar to life as of now.

I stood, alone, for a couple moments. It was quiet, almost silent in this place. I heard birds chirping. It reminded me of the life here. I imagined the birds hunted, shot as they flew through the free, crisp air for their unknown last wonder through the sky. Suddenly then, my heart felt heavy. The skies stay for eternity, but the birds visit, and they leave. The birds deserve to stay, though. To visit the sky whenever it best suits their schedules. But what happens when their schedule is cut short? They return to the earth, through their bones, picked at by predators, humans and other animals alike. Their remains are only accepted by the earth as they return to it. I feel tired when I step back out of the gates, birds singing still. At least, for the time being.

Most people ask me if I'm sure. Am I really sure I want to study the Holocaust? I'm not stupid; I feel the tension rise and silence fill the room when I mention it. But then, people closest to me say I'm a poet, a philosopher, a psychologiclst (the three Ps... a comedian to some). I tell them, when they stay to listen, that it only serves to remind me of the beauty in the world. Beauty doesn't exist without the ugly. The most intelligent people in the world know the most about the ugly, but choose to not partake in it. What is the reason to live other than living in the beauty? This is our home. Does it really matter where you've come from or choose to go? One day, I hope, life will be kind. Life, and everything that comes with it.

And it's not lost on me in any stretch that I left the space as I was when I entered.

[mercysmixtape]

March 3

Today tested me, that's for sure.

Most of all, it tested my love for myself.

Something that I have learned from this trip, even just after a couple days, that I know how to advocate for myself. Setting boundaries is difficult for me. But sometimes I need to do it. I left early. I took a taxi. Got back on my own, because I had to, in order for my mind to have some room to recuperate.

I am not for everyone, and this isn't the first time I've realized it, but the first time I've accepted it. Many believe I'm beautiful, and many believe I'm ugly. I don't mind either way. I believe I'm beautiful, and so do the people I've let into my life. Stares and scoffs mean little to me. What matters most to me is how I can best serve myself.

I may not be able to measure it, but I know I can weather it, whatever it is.

Before all of this, though, I found that pesky guy: Dionysus. Oh, Dionysus, I seem to find you in the most opportune of places. I like to think that he was reminding me to forget about my anxieties and doubts. I am respectful, of course, I'd hate it if I wasn't. But that doesn't mean I have to rid myself of who I am. I like to think that he transferred some of his energy to me, a true maenad. His energy flowed through my veins as I danced, then he set me free, back to my worrisome and saddened state; he doesn't want to deal with that, after all, he fought hard enough to escape it from himself.