morg

art history queer she/they

[yugimoto]

stamp collection

[the-evil-clergyman]

The Birth of Venus by Adolf Hirémy-Hirschl (1888)

[the-evil-clergyman]

Selene by Albert Aublet (1880)

[darflores]

my hobbies include knowing and being right

[musestxt]

A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara //  Dancing Bears, William H. Beard

[happyheidi]

(via)

[jiangwanyin]

— vladimir nabokov, in a letter to his wife [24 march 1937] from letters to véra (trans. olga voronina & brian boyd)

[sosuperawesome]

Vincent Giarrano on Instagram

[adrasteiax]

Mary Oliver, from Worm Moon in “Twelve Moons”

[ritikajyala]

He asked me when I fell in love with him and I knew it sounded dramatic to say the moment I saw him, so I told him this story of my grandma who had Alzheimer's- she forgot her name and the words for fruit and food, she forgot her address and how to use the washroom, all her life lost to the disease. The only thing she remembered was her son's name and when that began to fade, the one thing she always remembered was that she loved him, even in illness, even in insanity. She saw this 6 foot 2 man with a scrubby beard and she didn't know him but she said she trusted him, she asked him to hold her hand when she died. When does memory end and love begin? All I know is- she loved him before she remembered him.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[ritikajyala]

There'll be a moment when you realise you're 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom's burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.

Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

[guooey]

Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra

[cottaegecore]

plants and books <3

[somvei]

the longest week (2014)

[phaxes]

[olllua]

[katistry]