Inconsolable Narrative @vasilinaorlova - Tumblr Blog

I found a moment to revisit the About section of my blog Anthropology and Dust.

https://vasilinaorlova.wordpress.com/about/

(Photo: in Moscow in 2013) Vasilina Orlova (Василина Орлова) Vasilina Orlova is a socio-cultural anthropologist, writer, poet, and psychothe

#poet #anthropology #about me

labubu

delulu

glued

blue lagoon

#poem #poetry

Americans will say, created community, close-knit community, and it's a bunch of entangled highways, an endless urban sprawl, and loose parasocial connections on LinkedIn. "Close-knit community": you can feel the dreadful isolation of suburbia. It's ringing in your bones.

#closeness #isolation #suburbia

vasilinaorlova

Perhaps you're unaware, but the famous transgressor and offender of the common morals Sacher Masoch had a wife. The wife wrote memoirs of her own. In memoirs, she described her life with Sacher Masoch and presented herself as his victim, as well as the victim of circumstances. She undoubtedly was, both his victim and the victim of circumstances. Yet I was saddened, having read her memoir, that she perhaps was the woman who inspired Venus in furs and other tropes familiar to all masochists and sadists, but she enjoyed the experience so little.

vasilinaorlova

Wonder

A talking woman,

Wonder amidst marvels,

Was brought to our town,

Shown in circus

And at the Sunday market.

No one

Could believe their eyes,

And if I did not see her with my eyes,

I won’t believe it either.

But here I am to testify, and you have to trust me,

She does exist, an actual talking woman.

[2016; changes 2019]

One time, in the mid-2000th, at a Spanish airport, I saw a thin, lean girl wearing a long green dress, a wide-brim summer hat--the hat was black--and long, up to elbows, green gloves. The girl semi-walked-semi-danced, and I looked at her in awe. Even though we shared the fleeting airport space for a moment, I could not imagine myself in her role. Why not? I also once had a body. Yet she seemed, and was, impossible to replicate or even mimic in any way. A truly otherworldly appearance, a girl in a long green dress and gloves.

#girl #poem #prose poem

I don't remember when

poems

disappeared

from my notes.

#poetry #poem

I hereby

Am, passerby,

Declare

That I

Am not under the stone

Am not under the grass

I'm among us

#poetry #poem

In the future, high heels will be obsolete. I can't imagine high heels will survive into the future. The future will know no high heels. High heels belong to the museum. 👠

#high heels #prose

2016. Enjoying life at the University of Texas at Austin preparing to be an anthropologist for the rest of my life. Before the turn 🛞 that surprised even me.

#selfie #archive

The thought upon looking at New York streets: so many future dead bodies. No one will survive, nobody will be among the living in just 100 years.

#depression

Me in the role of a therapist to my clients, "Fear not, I assure you that I am crazier than you."

#diary

Siberia is closed to me now. The public stance I took against the Russian war in Ukraine ensured that I would never return. Even if I…

A chapter from the novel titled Inconsolable Narrative, on the ghosts of the Soviet ruins, written as a reflection on my anthropological trips to Siberia investigating ruins.

#ruins #chapter #novel

On Writing / Genie

A constant pressure to create forces the writers and singers to produce underwhelming work. One has to be patient and bottle up the genie that wants to break free too soon.

#writing

recurrent nocturnal awakenings

the loss of a previous close-knit community

that they recall fondly

emotional landscape

#poetry #prose

A person is in perpetual becoming, one infinite promise of the future self.

#prose #philosophy

Count your blessings, but

Enumerate your losses.

#poem #poetry

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