wannabe writer and poet. @metamorphological - Tumblr Blog

Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien

musings on touch the hand has twenty-seven bones, natalie diaz haiku #11, tathev simonyan the touch, anne sexton isn’t the air also a body, moving?, natalie diaz ulysses, james joyce you are jeff, richard siken lady, i will touch you with my mind, e. e. cummings to your hands…, vahan teryan (translated by tathev simonyan) state of emergency, joy sullivan i was reading a scientific article, margaret atwood one of those kisses, viggo mortensen

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Slowly I Married Her, Leonard Cohen

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Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma

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Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

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Yeah now we've entered the back pain stage

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The way I see it, Art has two functions: escapism and confrontation. It serves as both a sanctuary and a mirror. Through escapism, Art creates landscapes where burdens dissolve, where the ordinary is transformed into the extraordinary. It reminds us of the boundless beauty that is preserved in the world and the immense potential that we harbor. It paints a picture of what could be.

But Art also confronts. It grips us by the shoulders, demanding that we open our eyes to the raw, unadorned reality of existence. It challenges the lies we tell ourselves and the illusions we construct, and forces us to reckon with the depths of our humanity. In confrontation, Art becomes the wound that refuses to heal until we take care of it. With its blood and pus, Art paints a picture of what is.

Though it might seem so, these functions are not opposites — they are intertwined; a good piece of art achieves not just a balance but a fusion, where escapism and confrontation become two edges of the same sword. This dual-edged nature is what gives Art its power. The escapist edge whispers of what the world should be; the confrontational edge reveals what the world truly is.

A sword with one dull edge is incomplete, blunt and purposeless, and, certainly, a useless weapon against any enemy, leaving its wielder defenseless and vulnerable in the face of danger. In the same way, Art that leans too heavily on either escapism or confrontation becomes unbalanced. Pure escapism is shallow and hollow; it risks becoming an empty distraction. Pure confrontation, on the other hand, risks alienating and overwhelming the audience without offering hope.

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Hence why I believe that “The Lord of the Rings” shall never lose its relevance, as long as humankind endures. It is a perfect example of such a sword, forged to become a timeless masterpiece. On one hand, it offers an escape into a meticulously crafted world — a place where our imagination soars, lifting us from the ground, holding us gently under the arms, and flying us high above our reality. And in that flight, we gain the perspective of a bird, seeing the world in its entirety: the beauty and the terror, all at once. For at its heart, LOTR is a profound confrontation with the deepest truths of human existence and the human experience. It is a mirror and a guide — a manual of sorts, on how to remain human in a world that conspires to make you less.

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It’s not about romanticizing the mundane but about being receptive to the beauty that’s already there. The mundane isn’t void of meaning or romanticism; it’s rich with stories waiting to be uncovered and retold, beauty waiting to be seen and acknowledged — a flicker of sunlight on a windowsill, a stranger's smile in passing, the muffled music from your neighbors through the wall, the way steam rises from a cup of tea. Yet, to see it requires more than just looking — it asks for a surrender, a willingness to let go of cynicism and to meet the world on its own terms. Perhaps this is where the art of living begins — not in searching for grand happenings but in learning to embrace the quiet magic of what’s already in front of us. The extraordinary doesn’t need to be created; it has always been there, nestled within the folds of the ordinary, waiting patiently to be seen.