amelia, in vignettes

I'm Amelia. 23 years sweet. I guess the title's self explanatory. Among my portraits you'll find writing, music, art, and a few other things I admire. This is an 18+ blog - PLEASE DO NOT SERIAL LIKE OR REBLOG MY CONTENT BECAUSE IT MAKES ME UNEASY. -

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Goodbye, for now

Hello. It’s me, bashfully interjecting myself into your thoughts should you happen to stumble upon and read this. If anyone’s noticed, my presence on this blog has stagnated quite a bit recently, and if you’re wondering why, I’d like to be honest and say it has to do with the fact that, sadly, I’m not as healthy as I wish I were.

I set out to do something I never thought I’d be selfish enough to do, earlier today. I did not see it through, evidently, because I am still here. But, you know, I am in a space where the idea to follow through no longer fills me with the guilt that is sufficient enough to stop me. 

And so I would like to just step back from this blogging endeavour to perhaps disappear for a while. I say this not to alarm anyone--only to let you know that I’ve decided to go away for a bit. Maybe fix myself up a little. Imagine I’ve gone on a long holiday or something. Somewhere good and far away from the things that hurt me. I’ll do what I’ve always done, like read and write and sing tuneless little ditties, except imagine me... better, finally. I want you to imagine me at peace. I’ll be doing it, too.

Thank you for your company. And for your strange and funny words. Thank you for answering my questions and sharing your stories with me. I’ll be around these parts, still. Only much quieter. So do still say hello or goodbye or nice tits or something like that. I’ll be there to answer you.

[saccarinee]

“Between two musical notes there exists another note, between two facts there exists another fact, between two grains of sand, no matter how close together they are, there exists an interval of space, there exists a sensing between sensing—in the interstices of primordial matter there is the mysterious, fiery line that is the world’s breathing, and the world’s continual breathing is what we hear and call silence.”

— Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H (via letters-to-nobody)

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Maple, amber, and orchard!

Hello, bonjour, buenos días! A wave to you. Thank you for these questions.

maple - is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did?

You know, I’ve always wanted to be able to garden. I kill everything I put my hands on when it comes to handling flora, save for the odd cactus or succulent. I own a ball of moss I mostly ignore (because I can afford to!) and it lives in a round terrarium where it grows more monstrous by the passing months. 

But yes, I think gardening would be an excellent hobby to take with me in old age–it’d give me a bit of purpose, or so I assume. I’ve always loved flowers and it makes me sad that people know this and buy them for me (hah, as if it happens often), because it only means that they will eventually, most certainly die. And then everything smells off.

amber - share an unpopular opinion that you may have.

I have never really cared for Drake and I continue not to understand the appeal.

orchard - share one thing that you’d like to happen this autumn.

Something within the realms of possibility or… otherwise?

I suppose I’m looking forward to my first paycheck. Though I have a hard time really feeling that I might fully deserve it. It’s just so strange to me and I don’t think I could ever get used to that idea: that the way I spend my time is quantifiable. I think this feeling will haunt me in every one of my work ventures! 

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Maple, cider, amber 🐝🐝🐝

Hey, m’darlin. I see those bees. I hope they’re a sign of peace.

maple - is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did?

I’ve always wanted to be able to make my own clothes. I have a very particular vision, you see. I want to emulate the virtue and grace of a dutch milkmaid via square-necked blouses with a shit ton of frills and lace, but also I want to pair that with skirts short enough to make a priest blush. Are you with me on this? Good.

cider - a food that you disliked as a child but now enjoy?

Oh, I used to hate cilantro. Now, it’s in most things I cook. Whenever I realise we’re out of cilantro I let loose this long sigh of annoyance and whisper under my breath, “Fuck. No food tonight then.”

I realise this makes me sound as though all I eat is stalks of cilantro by the bunch. And you know… I’m willing to let people run with that vision.

amber - share an unpopular opinion that you may have.

How could you ask me this question? I do not like Rupi Kaur’s writing at all. I think a good portion of her work is overrated, underdeveloped, and overly-saccharine. That she has managed to make money from writing things like:

the way they

leave 

tells you

everything

(answers) by Rupi Kaur

–makes me a little angry, to be quite honest. Her words don’t provide me much comfort or even a sense of shared pain–I think for me to feel those things takes a bit more. And I guess that is one reason I can assume she might not carve deeper into the structure of her own material to reveal her more detailed and nuanced experiences of pain or happiness: leaving things ambiguous enough allows more people to go, “Fuck, yeah. Me too! What a thought.” And that just makes me roll my eyes. It’s as if enjambment has this magical ability of making the ordinary a little less so.

I went to

the bathroom

and took a shit

and when I flushed

I saw that what I’d shat

was

gone.

(a disappearing act) by Amelia 

But of course, she is an artist, all the same. Just because I don’t take her work all too seriously doesn’t mean it isn’t so for anyone else. There, you have my uglier bits out on display.

[oi0u98ygth-deactivated20260120]

nobody nobody nobody no body noo body nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobo

[bpdvanillaice]

who would win in a fight: hozier vs. sufjan stevens

hozier:

ten feet tall, making face-shots difficult

capable of a sub-sonic vocal blast that may paralyze an opponent for several seconds

is a level 10 lgbt ally, allowing him to use fire balls and limited lightning magic

sufjan stevens:

extremely sneaky

exudes an aura of sadness which has the chance to emotionally devastate his opponent

sharp little claws

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@meandering-hedonist

[arkadyrenko]

Le beau mariage (1982) dir. Eric Rohmer

[tsaifilms]

Behind The Scenes Of ‘Lady Bird‘ 

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WOW i’m so fucking depressed this is so beautiful and so heart wrenching at the same time

[sukebangang]

“Chinese culture is very collectivist- they value the needs of a group over an individual. Sometimes it is good but it doesn’t really encourage creativity or individuality. You get reprimanded for speaking out or for being different. A lot of shame comes from not living up to the community’s expectations, especially if you have immigrant parents who left everything behind for a better future. Then there is all this burden to become a doctor, teacher, dentist and lawyer. Success is too narrowly framed for it to be achievable, it’s a lot of stress. Of course, not all families are like this. Personally, it was really difficult for me to just do what I wanted” Mixed Media by Akina up now on Sukeban Magazine 

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“She brings his hand down to her mouth, kisses his fingers. He bends over to kiss her hair and mouth. Open to her, nourished by her. He’s warmed by her graciousness. By her desire to please.”

— Susan Sontag, from “Death Kit,” published c. January 1967

[prometheus21]

“If I am a witch, then so be it, I said. And I took to eating black things–coffee, dark chiles, the bruised part of fruit, the darkest, blackest things to make me hard and strong.”

— Sandra Cisneros, from Woman Hollering Creek; “Eyes of Zapata,” c. 1991 (via violentwavesofemotion)

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“There’s a particular sentence of Woolf’s that haunts me; I’ve written about it before, without managing to exorcise it. It appears in her novel Jacob’s Room: ‘It’s not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it’s the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses.’

…In his autobiography, Leonard Woolf writes with pain and some bewilderment about the way in which complete strangers would react to his wife: ‘ … to the crowd in the street there was something in her appearance which struck them as strange and laughable … people would stare or stop and stare at Virginia. And not only in foreign towns; they would stop and stare and nudge one another – “look at her” – even in England, in Piccadilly or Lewes …’

Leonard makes the observation that these incidents tended to happen at moments when Virginia was lost in thought – when she had, in a sense, forgotten herself. There was something in her expression or comportment in those moments, which, taken with her unusual mode of dress, made her appear anomalous to people. Like her clothes, her manner marked her out as a woman who went out into the world without apparently caring how she appeared in it. And, as I would find out when I walked back from Canons Park station without giving my appearance a conscious thought, that is a risky way for a woman to proceed. A woman should never forget that whatever else she is, she is also an object.”

—Joanne Limburg, “What was Virginia Woolf afraid of?”

[maorisakai-website]

[furtho]

Margaret Bourke-White’s photograph of pedestrians, New York, 1930 (via Jeroen)

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Holily and sacredly, and lovingly and lustfully, spiritually, to the very deeps of the unconscious sea, I love you, my wild wise wonderful woman, my girl,

Dylan Thomas, from a letter to Caitlin Thomas written c. March 1950

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A slew of questions for the world's sexiest bumblebee (to be fair, there isn't exactly an abundance of competition, but still) 🐝 What do you wish you hated, but actually like? Do you prefer space, or the ocean? What's your favourite thing to learn about? Also, what've been to most disappointing album releases that you've ever looked forward to?

I am the sexiest bumblebee. All of the other bumblebitches may move out of the way.

What do you wish you hated, but actually like?

This is a hard one! Taking the occasional selfie, I think. In my opinion, it’s not the healthiest nor the most attractive behaviour. And I don’t usually post any of them online for people to judge, but I do send them to people I care about to (hopefully) admire. But really, it’s a way for me to feel a little… well, good about myself! 

Oh, and just as I was about to end on that note, I realise that I run a whole blog based on the premise of taking pictures of my self sans attire. However, I must clarify that I was referring to face selfies earlier, but still, I’m having a hard time differentiating between the attention garnered from one over the other. Ugh, how do I reconcile these two warring thoughts? I can’t. I shall move on.

Do you prefer space, or the ocean?

Both great and terrifying things. I think I’d most likely lose my mind in space. Getting lost at sea means a quick and easy death, so I shall choose the ocean. I don’t really know why I immediately think I’d be in some sort of hopeless and isolated state in both these spaces, but that’s just how my mind is working at the moment. 

What’s your favourite thing to learn about?

I was speaking with @bellainwychelm a bit earlier about our shared interest in reading about people who’d lead ‘tragic’ lives. So recently I’ve been delving into a collection of Kafka’s diaries; the passages are sad, introspective, and overall just beautifully written.  

Also, what’ve been to most disappointing album releases that you’ve ever looked forward to?

Well, when Fleet Foxes came out with their most recent album, I must admit that I was a bit disappointed with the newer sound. It’s a bit like seeing an old childhood friend as a grown adult, and thinking that, yes, this is familiar to me; I know those eyes, I remember that mole on your cheek, but… who the fuck are you? 

I grew to love Crack-Up, in the end. 

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juli Thank you to the gentleman in the first picture, who unwittingly struck a candid pose for the sake of my originally titled ‘Roman Holiday’ photo album.