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me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))

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Art by Rebecca Hollingsworth (source)

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November 3rd, 2024

My week off is over and tomorrow school starts again. I'm looking forward to teaching my workshop and I'm excited for the time of the year that lays ahead of us. I love Christmas time and the beginning of winter (one month of winter would be nice, then I'd be ready for spring again haha). I had a good week off and I'm really grateful for my life.

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20.07.2024, 10pm-ish ✍🏼 reblog is ok, don’t repost/use

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Moodboard

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makes a to do list. gets too stressed to start on it before it’s waaaaay to late (ohno!!)

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Lately..

I have been feeling low. But I'm slowly regaining my edge and that 'old self' I have been yearning for. That bubbly, fearless, and childish aura I once had. I missed her. I missed her tiny imperfections, all of which I had to butcher and bury while simultaneously hiding the grief of her loss. Those tiny flaws that seemed to bother a handful of strangers but delighted the small amount that held me so dearly and warm. I miss her confidence when facing unbelievably challenging problems, albeit the immature ideals that she once had. I'm very glad to welcome her back. I can't wait for her to meet the older me.

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For our anniversary, we gave each other vintage casalinghi espresso cups, even better to hold than to look at ⛾

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Valentine's is for frites

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February 22, 2024 - Thursday

I finished 2 of my borrowed ebooks so as a treat I went to the actual library and checked out 3 books that I randomly picked up from the shelves (by judging books by their covers✨). I got a poem collection, a YA fantasy, and a random book for genre study! That's my reading plan for this year: half ebooks that I meticulously researched and put on my TBR, and half random books I picked up from the library!

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Spring is coming slow, so slow. In the smoking area outside the village underground I'm truly thawed out. Tucked away on an industrial estate I watch my friend drink something fancy from a local winery under a display of spanners and power tools and am overwhelmed by beauty. A friend brings tulips and no vase can hold them so we have to split the bunch across four jars. A freshly wrapped sandwich at the deli is heavy with goodness. The sun, now hitting the windows across the street, sending light scattering into our bedroom, warm rain like a baptism, like a chain link gently prised apart, like the print fresh lipstick leaves on the glass

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14/30 - Happy Valentine’s Day ! I submitted a huge Psychology assignment and I couldn’t be happier to have it finished. Now I just have my French B2 exam to study for, which is surprisingly on track 📚❤️

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instagram | mimosaboston

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Monet Refuses the Operation

by Lisel Mueller

Doctor, you say that there are no halos around the streetlights in Paris and what I see is an aberration caused by old age, an affliction. I tell you it has taken me all my life to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels, to soften and blur and finally banish the edges you regret I don’t see, to learn that the line I called the horizon does not exist and sky and water, so long apart, are the same state of being. Fifty-four years before I could see Rouen cathedral is built of parallel shafts of sun, and now you want to restore my youthful errors: fixed notions of top and bottom, the illusion of three-dimensional space, wisteria separate from the bridge it covers. What can I say to convince you the Houses of Parliament dissolve night after night to become the fluid dream of the Thames? I will not return to a universe of objects that don’t know each other, as if islands were not the lost children of one great continent. The world is flux, and light becomes what it touches, becomes water, lilies on water, above and below water, becomes lilac and mauve and yellow and white and cerulean lamps, small fists passing sunlight so quickly to one another that it would take long, streaming hair inside my brush to catch it. To paint the speed of light! Our weighted shapes, these verticals, burn to mix with air and changes our bones, skin, clothes to gases. Doctor, if only you could see how heaven pulls earth into its arms and how infinitely the heart expands to claim this world, blue vapor without end.