#heidelberg school

[lionofchaeronea]

Going Home (The Gray and Gold), Charles Conder, 1888

[alkalinetrios]

konica autoreflex tc, on ilford hp5 400

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young I was dating this absolute cocknob right as I graduated high school. More on that later.

As a present ostensibly to me (but mostly my folks) I was whisked away after graduation to spend two weeks in Europe with my parents. The plan was to see London, Paris, and Heidelberg.

I was moody and a teenager and was largely disgruntled by this fabulous adventure. I went along with sullen foot dragging and black looks. I commandeered my reprehensible boyfriends enormous black hoodie and wore it on the trip. At the start of our jaunt into London I mentioned offhandedly to my mom that it was burning when I peed.

“You’re just dehydrated, and your period is about to start.”

She was right on both counts. I upped my water content, and had my period (which may have contributed to my overall ill humors.)

So we found ourselves in a tiny hotel in Paris, a week into our jaunt, when I repeated, “Man, it just really burns when I pee.”

“What?!” my mom demanded.

“I told you like a week ago that it was burning.”

“Augh! Now we have to go to the hospital!” she proclaimed.

“What?! Why?”

“Because,” she snapped, “You have a bladder infection.”

More bickering ensued, and my temperament was not improved by knowing I’d told her I was having an issue a week ago and been ignored.

My dad heard about the itinerary shift with resignation and we trooped down the narrow stairs as a family to ask the concierge where the nearest hospital was.

The absolutely lovely man at the desk was immediately so concerned when we asked for directions. “Is everything okay?” he asked with very genuine sympathy and I muttered that everything was fine, we just needed a quick visit.

Lucky for us the hospital was only a few blocks away. We walked there and the building was massive, home to what appeared to be several separate wings but no obvious main entrance.

We wandered inside and it was like a weird dream. There was no one around. Huge echoing corridors met us as we peered in vain for a front desk or possibly signs. We searched with increasing frustration for anyone to talk to and somehow found ourselves in some tiny back offices.

A woman sat at her desk and looked bewildered to see three lost Americans approaching her. She greeted us and as a family we all simultaneously realized the massive flaw in our current course.

You see, dear reader, we did not speak French. My dad and I both spoke German. I inquired politely if she also spoke German and she shook her head looking increasingly cornered. We asked if she spoke English.

“Leetle…?” she replied.

“My daughter has a bladder infection! Blad-der?” My mother declared this at a high volume as if volume alone could bridge the communication gap, while simultaneously miming over my stomach, circling where she presumed my pelvis was under the gigantic black sweatshirt.

The woman’s expression turned extremely skeptical and she slowly repeated “Bladder…” She scrutinized me for a moment then said, “You go…. This?” And pointed to something purple on her desk.

“The purple signs?” my dad asked.

She nodded and we set off. I was stewing with resentment at my mom for having ignored my first complaint when we were in a country that spoke English. And also generalized hostility about being on the trip and the object of miming. Now here we were in a French hospital, lost and unable to communicate. I also was under no illusions that someone who didn’t know the word for purple would have any clue what bladder meant.

And slowly I realized what had actually happened as I peered at the purple signs. My mother circling my stomach with her hands, gesturing to my middle. The woman’s skeptical face.

“Hey mom,” I chirped, syrupy and smug. “I don’t speak French. But I do know that it’s a Latin based language. And wouldn’t you know, but that purple sign looks an awful lot like it says ‘maternity’ to me.”

“Shut up!” she snapped.

A few minutes later we stood surrounded by the moans of pregnant people and the cries of fresh new lungs wailing at their first taste of cold air.

I smiled sweetly at my disgruntled mother.

Luck was with us however. A nearby father noticed us and came over to ask if we needed help. With perfect English he gave us clear directions.

As we finally approached the right area for walk in services it was clear how we’d missed it the first time. A large swathe of the front of the building was covered in tarps. A huge wall sized window was broken, and construction was taking place, but at least it had a bustle of people and a clear line. We sat down in the queue of chairs.

While we sat some police officers came in. They walked up to a man ahead of us in line and with few words exchanged they handcuffed and led him politely away.

I was genuinely so out of reality. Every new thing that happened was like a bizarre dream from the empty hallways to the maternity ward and now this tarp strewn waiting room in which people could just be calmly arrested.

It was a shock to me then when we reached the front and the nurse spoke with perfectly unaccented English to assess me. Not only did she know bladder but a whole slew of other medical words I couldn’t guess at. I peed on a stick and we waited.

When we got the results she told me it was good because they could give me antibiotics today for my now confirmed infection, but bad because I’d need the doctor to sign off. I nodded and my mom and I were escorted to yet another small room to wait.

When the doctor arrived I felt suddenly gangly and awkward. I’m not tall but I towered over this tiny French woman who radiated calm composure. She seemed to be around my grandmothers age. She looked up at my blushing face and said, “Bladder infection?” Her English had a much stronger accent than the nurse but with the same medical competence.

I nodded.

She nodded too and we sat in a still contemplative moment on my UTI.

“Do you have… boyfriend?”

My face was on fire, every cell of me wanting to flee from this tiny perfect old woman. I nodded.

She nodded too. We sat still in the knowledge that I had a boyfriend and a UTI.

“Do you and your boyfriend do… it?” Her delicate accent stretched it into “eet.”

I don’t know if she didn’t know the word for sex or if she thought saying “it” was kinder but I wanted to melt into the floor and cease to exist to escape my increasing mortification and her meaningful pause. I nodded.

“Okay,” she said kindly. “When you and your boyfriend do… it… you must make pee pee.”

I writhed slightly under the psychic damage of this elegant medical professional saying “pee pee” and I nodded more emphatically hoping she’d desist this torture.

She continued. “If you and your boyfriend do… it… five times? You make five pee pees. If you do it ten times, you make ten pee pees.”

My face had never been hotter, all the blood in my body had volcanoed to my head, pounding in my ears and valiantly attempting to give me an aneurism to end my suffering. There is no mortification as acute to a teenager as an adult talking about sex and here was this medical professional telling me about… it.

Meanwhile, my mother. Who should have been regretting her poor parenting and reflecting on her neglect in failing impart this vital part piece of sex ed to her kid. Alas, she was laughing herself sick the corner. She added to my embarrassment by quietly repeating “pee pee” and “it” under her breath as she wheezed and chortled.

The doctor patted my hand kindly and handed me the antibiotics. I got to spend the rest of my trip in Europe avoiding direct sunlight and listening to my mother parrot “Do you do… eet?”

[ruleof3bobby]

MORRIS FROM AMERICA (2016) Grade: C

It's a weak coming of age story. The overall plot is thin. Didn't like the Morris actor. No good supporting characters. They also needed to dive much deeper into the father/son relationship. 

[octuscle]

If a nerd in highschool suddenly gained muscular body, without an effect on his brains or mental state

How quickly would he actually, naturally change? Maybe the attention gives him an ego?

Or maybe the jocks want to be his friend

How much of a jock could the nerd become?

Project diary, entry 1 (Friday)

My name is Salomon Miller. I live in Providence, Connecticut and am a senior in high school. I wouldn't say I have any real hobbies, but I am interested in art history, architecture, astronomy and geology. And many other things. I read a lot and actually everything I can get my hands on. But my passion is sociology and political science. That's also one of the reasons why I'm writing this diary. Starting next semester, I will be studying at Stanford and have a full scholarship, which is linked to my participation in a project. The Department of Sociology will use my person to investigate the effects of serious physical changes on the psyche and behavior. I won't find out in advance what the physical changes are, but the changes were set in motion with the help of an injection that I received today.

My parents support me in the project. My father is a lawyer specializing in environmental law, my mother is a neurologist and psychiatrist. Neither of them understand why I chose to study sociology, but as they both studied at Stanford, they accept my plans. They don't have many options either, they are both in Europe for a long time. My mother has a research semester at the University Hospital of Heidelberg and my father is currently representing a client in a lengthy case at the European Court of Justice. I've known this situation since I was a child. I'm used to having our gardener or Consuela, our housekeeper, as my social contact. That's not meant in a negative way, I love my parents, even if our contact is often less intensive. This has taught me a certain independence, which I really appreciate.

Today is the Friday evening before the last weekend of the summer vacation. The date was chosen deliberately for the injection. This gives me until Monday morning to get used to the upcoming transformation. At the moment, I feel nothing more than a certain tiredness. Normally I would go for a long walk or read something. But I'm just exhausted and will go to bed early.

Project diary, entry 2 (Saturday)

I woke up at around 03:00 in the morning. I was scared to death. I was almost strangled by my pyjamas. I tried to rip the top off my body. I tore it completely to shreds. I was no longer wearing my pyjama bottoms, which were already lying in tatters in my bed. It was clear to me that the transformation had begun. And a look in the bathroom mirror gave me certainty. My whole body was twitching, just like I'd seen in a Hulk movie. Except I didn't turn green. But my muscles literally grew. In fact, little else has changed. I am still clearly me. Even though my neck was already wider than my head, which is why I almost suffocated in my pyjamas, this was still my face. My hairstyle unchanged. My eyesight was also the same. Fortunately, the head can't get any more muscular, the glasses still fit. My thoughts were running amok in my head, I can't describe the feeling, especially as the cramps didn't stop and the muscles continued to grow. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. At around 04:30 the cramps subsided and I fell asleep again from exhaustion.

When I woke up at around 09:45, I was lying sticky and sweaty in a dried up puddle of semen. Obviously I had ejaculated once or several times. After getting up, I went to the bathroom to assess the change. According to the scales, I now weigh 120 kilograms (I assume that documentation in metric units is more scientific), my height is unchanged at 182 cm. What has actually changed is the length of my penis, which is now 18 cm when flaccid. I have not yet been able to measure the length when erect. In fact, I would have thought that the sight of a muscular man would somehow excite me. But my head has been working like crazy since I got up, I suppose my blood is needed in my brain and is not available for an erection. The shower was still an incredible experience. My body feels great. I had no idea what muscles felt like. However, I realized while showering that I had a problem: None of my clothes would fit me anymore. And my father is smaller than me and, like I was until yesterday, is also more of an ectomorph. My only hope was that José, our gardener, who is probably almost as muscular as me and about my height, had some of his clothes in the dirty laundry. He and Consuela both don't work at the weekend and I didn't want to invade his room.

I was actually lucky and managed to find a pair of jeans, a jockstrap, a T-shirt and a pair of tennis socks in the laundry. Everything smelled very unpleasant and at first I thought about washing it first and then putting it on, but then decided against it. Instead, I went to the mall as I was to buy something new to wear. There is an expense account from the project, which is presumably intended for exactly these cases. Shopping really was an ordeal. As usual, I went to Macy's at Providence Place Mall first, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to find anything in my size there besides clothes for gym class. Then I went to Abercrombie & Fitch for the first time. The sales assistants literally pounced on me. The XXL T-shirts fitted reasonably well, my thighs were too big for the jeans, but shorts were fine. Fortunately, the weather forecast for the next few days is still very good.

Even though I was extremely focused on quickly working through my shopping list and getting back home, I didn't miss the effect I had on my body. Not only did the sales clerks pay much more attention to me, people turned to me, nodded appreciatively at me and greeted me. It all made me extremely uncomfortable. I was glad when I got home again.

Project diary, entry 3 (Sunday)

I'm not really a religious person, but I value the institution of the church as a culturally integrating entity. So I probably would have actually gone to church, but I would have been very uncomfortable in shorts and low-cut t-shirts that exposed my chest. So I spent the day making up my bed, doing the laundry and getting ready for the first day of school after the vacations. My story for teachers and classmates will be that I spent the summer in Europe with my parents and discovered my enthusiasm for the gym out of boredom. I have no idea whether this story will be accepted. As much as possible, I completed the course enrollment online. Because I really have no idea what I can do with this body, I signed up for boxing and wrestling. The alternative would have been football, but I have no experience at all with team and ball sports. Swimming used to be the sport I hated the least, but a few laps in our pool today have shown me that my body has become less streamlined. Although I have a lot more strength, my times are worse than usual.

I have signed up again for the astronomy and chess clubs. Apart from that, I thought it made sense to leave myself enough time to be able to react to unexpected events.

My first real test was my Sunday video conference with my parents. As I can't hide anything, I decided to take the offensive and had the conversation in nothing but my swimming trunks by the pool. Even though I had no real idea of my parents' reaction, I was actually taken aback. My mother scientifically dissected the situation and said that my body was probably more efficient now and therefore I would have a benefit gain. My father disagreed, as he assumed that a bulkier body had a worse ecological balance. In the beginning, I tried to approach this project as objectively as possible. But then I couldn't help but start crying. I was afraid of tomorrow. And my parents actually showed something like emotion and compassion.

Project diary, entry 4 (Monday)

I was expecting something like running the gauntlet. But the first day at school was actually relatively unproblematic. Most of my friends at least pretended to believe my story about my stay in Europe. The teachers were not surprised either and largely went straight back to business as usual. The only noticeable reaction came from the musclemen and jocks. I have the feeling that they never took their eyes off me. When there was eye contact, I received a respectful nod. Otherwise, I felt a bit like a foreign lion approaching a pride of lions. Every muscle of the alpha animals and their water carriers was tense and ready to strike if I got too close to their watering hole. I'm looking forward to my first PE lesson tomorrow.

Project diary, entry 6 (Tuesday)

While the morning was more of a triumph, the afternoon was a debacle. The subject matter in chemistry and physics suits me very well, everything is very interesting. There shouldn't be any significant challenges in Spanish lessons either. But the new Spanish teacher is also an advantage here. Based on her first impression, she probably thought I was a hollow nut. She didn't expect me to have already read Don Quixote in the original and in the contemporary Spanish transcription during the vacations.

I embarrassed myself to the bone in gym class. Of course, after my contrived lie, everyone assumed that I knew my way around the gym like the back of my hand. And I don't even know how to hold a barbell properly. Interestingly, no one laughed at me or anything. On the contrary, they all assumed that I'm extremely underchallenged and told me that I should just train for myself and that I should join them next week after I've learned the basics. But maybe that was just polite contempt.

In any case, I spent the whole afternoon and evening at home watching all the gym tutorials I could get hold of and reading everything I could find about bodybuilding, nutrition and supplements. That's why I skipped the first session of the chess club. But I had to prioritize.

Project diary, entry 7 (Wednesday)

Theory is good, practice is better. That's why I went straight to the gym this morning at 06:00. The school janitor who opened the door for me said appreciatively that my discipline was paying off. The big boys are always the first to arrive in the morning. If only he knew. But in fact I was lucky, I was alone on the training area until 07:00 and by then I had familiarized myself with most of the machines I had learned how they worked in theory and had also developed a feeling for the weights I was able to lift.

The second visitor to the gym after me was the quarterback of the football team. Stephen and I have been at the same school since first grade. Of course I know him. But of course he has no idea who I am. We've never had classes together and someone like me is of course a nobody to him. Or was a nobody to him. Now I was his biggest rival, the only classmate who had bigger biceps and a broader chest than him. And being the alpha male that he was, he sought conflict directly. As far as I know, the jocks and Himbo's call it "cock comparison". Wherever I trained, he did the same afterwards with more weight. After training, he waited for me in front of the shower and said that he had already heard about me. I was the Spanish exchange student. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, the one who had that book with the windmills and the crazy knight at school. The linebacker goes to your Spanish course. Clever to take Spanish as a Spaniard," he said. I shook his hand, introduced myself as Salomon and told him we were in the same kindergarten. He returned the offered hand with a fist bump and said that I must have mistaken him. He had never been to Spain. But I spoke very good English for a Spaniard.

I always prefer to spend my lunch break alone. I like to read or just relax. This time, however, Stephen waved me straight over to him and his boys. He introduced me as Sal and said I should tell him how I liked it in the USA. At first, I wanted to start comparing European democracies with the US, especially in light of the rise of populist tendencies. But then I didn't think that was a good idea and just said that I thought the USA was the greatest country in the world. Stephen gave me a fistbump and all his buddies followed suit. Before English class after lunch, my friend Frederick passed me and said somewhat reproachfully whether I would always eat with the football team now. I laughed and gave him a fist bump and said that I would only eat as long as my primate research project lasted.

Project diary, entry 8 (Friday)

Yesterday was a wild day! I went to wrestling practice. Everyone but me has taken wrestling as a sport since they were in high school. I'm the only one who had no experience at all. Sure, I looked at and read through everything I could find to prepare. But without any practical experience, I really made a fool of myself. Thank God the coach really understood me. He said that he was sorry that bodybuilding wasn't a school subject. And then he gave me tips on how to pose properly. Damn, when I stood in front of the mirror in just my underpants and he touched my muscles to get them in the right position, I got a boner. And he obviously noticed. He then hugged me from behind and massaged my nipples. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I started to moan. He pulled me close to him. I felt his hard-on against my ass. And then I had my first orgasm outside of my bathroom. I was so embarrassed. And it was so great! Since then, I've really just wanted to make my coach proud. I've spent every spare minute at the gym, signed up to the sports club to do more wrestling and spent a small fortune on sportswear. I'm afraid I have a real crush for the first time in my life.

Today I got a telling off from my friends from the astronomy club. I missed the meeting and no longer see them during school breaks. I admit it, I'm neglecting my old social environment. But I have to find my way in my new role. Or rather, I have to find this new role first. Tonight I have a date with a couple of guys from the sports club. We're going to the gym first and then want to watch football in the sports bar. I'm a bit excited because I've tended to spend my weekend evenings alone in front of the computer so far. Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear.

Project diary, entry 9 (Sunday)

Dude, I might be drunk. For the second night in a row. The weekend is one big party. Last night at the sports bar was great. It was a little hard at first to pretend I knew anything about football. But after one beer I didn't give a shit. At some point, someone bought me some booze. Because his team had won or something. I was completely out of it and had to puke at some point. I can't really remember, but I'm afraid I didn't hit the toilet bowl. One of the boys then took me home with him. I really wasn't able to find my way home. Apparently, at some point I invited the boys over for a pool party on Saturday. And it escalated a little bit. Fuck, I probably have to spend the rest of the day tidying and cleaning. But for now I'm going to bed. After I've thrown up.

Project diary, entry 10 (Monday)

I'm a bit embarrassed about my behavior at the weekend. When I woke up on Sunday, a few of the boys were still snoring by the pool. And a few of them were making breakfast on the barbecue. I didn't really get around to cleaning. And then I overslept today too. Consuela suddenly came into my room and asked if my parents knew what had happened here. I gave her 100 dollars from my emergency expense fund and asked her not to reveal anything. She and Raoul actually did a great job. When I got home from astronomy club late at night, everything was pretty tidy again. The two of them are real treasures!

Mondays are not sports days. History, English, math. I admit that math has never been my hobbyhorse. And my teacher has made no secret of the fact that he thinks I'm an overprivileged white boy. When I couldn't answer a question to his satisfaction today, he said something along the lines of "Muscleheads are just all airheads". The whole back row started throwing paper balls at the teacher and hooting in protest. I have never received such expressions of sympathy.

Between school and the astronomy club, I went to the optician and got some contact lenses. Glasses are just so annoying when you're doing sport. And then I went to the hairdresser. I like my haircut. My hair is longer at the nape of my neck than at the sides. I had a photo of Coach with me and said that I wanted to look like this. Hehehe, the hairdresser said that he couldn't take away my muscles. In fact, I'm bigger than Coach. The hairdresser also shaved my beard. I haven't even written that yet, I have the feeling that my beard and body hair are growing faster and thicker. A bush is growing under my armpits and in my pubic area...

The astronomy club was terribly exhausting. I wanted to concentrate on the Jupiter-Venus conjunction. We had the best conditions to observe it today. But the nerds were all just asking questions about what exactly it was like on vacation, how I trained, how I changed my diet. I prepared myself for these kinds of questions. But every one of my answers was scientifically dissected. If it goes on like this, I'd rather look at the stars alone.

Project diary, entry 11 (Thursday)

The last few days have been pretty exciting, which is why I didn't get around to writing the diary. After training on Tuesday I went to the showers. Not all the guys on the team do this, but I just don't feel comfortable in the sweat with a bit of Axe under my arms. I also urgently needed to clear my balls and cock of the hair that was growing and shave my chest. I still can't get used to how hairy I get. In any case, it all took longer than with the other boys and then I was alone with Chuck in the shower. And suddenly Chuck knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. Without warning. I had prepared myself for intercourse in theory and in practice.

In any case, I've been a bit confused ever since. I mean, I have a crush on Coach. And Coach also got a boner when he helped me pose. I mean, he must think I'm hot too. But Chuck says he's had a crush on me ever since he and I spent Friday night together. The night I don't remember. But I'm writing all mixed up...

The blowjob in the shower was definitely sooooo hot. Even though it didn't last long. Boy, I shot my load into Chuck's mouth like that. My cum was leaking out of both corners of his mouth. He French kissed me with my cum in his mouth. Dude, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. And then he grinned and said that edging wasn't really my thing. I had no idea what he meant. In any case, I kissed him again and started wanking his cock. I was far too excited to suck him off myself. Chuck moaned and started twitching. Then he pulled me against him and wedged his cock between our stomach muscles. And then blew his load. Bloody hell! I don't know how long we showered together and soaped each other up.

In any case, I then started to gain practical experience with sexual intercourse. Chuck spent the night with me the day before yesterday and yesterday. The first time we fucked was really awkward. Chuck also asked if I was still a virgin. I said no, of course. But I'm sure he realized that it was the first time I'd fucked someone. And also that I was being fucked. In bed and in the hot tub. The first time I blew him was Wednesday in the school bathroom. We both just had a lot of pressure on our balls before civics. Shit, I'd never thought about sex before, now I can't get sex out of my head.

Practice is coming up. I just jerked off to the idea of forming a sandwich with Coach and Chuck in the shower. That would be so hot!

Project diary, entry 12 (Sunday)

Shit, I love my life. The parties this weekend were so hot. I mean, sure I love Chuck, but my dick has too much energy for one man. And Chuck gets off on me fucking other men too. As long as he's the only one who gets to fuck me. It's a point of honor, of course!

Before I go to bed now, I went to the gym again. To burn off the alcohol. And prepare my muscles for a tough week. I have my first wrestling tournament next Friday. And I've promised Steph-bruh, the quarterback, that I'll drop by football training. The hollow nut still calls me wetback, but has now understood that I'm not Spanish or Latino. And then I have to chat with my mentor from Stanford again. I don't know if sociology is really my subject. Chuck wants to study business administration. He's hoping for an athletic scholarship. Maybe I'm up for that too.

Inspiration found @redneckmusclehead

[mariagalleriax]

Naoki Urasawa's Monster AU where Johan is a fucking loser college student (I feel like I've definitely made a post about this before but I get hit with a brick every morning so it's hard to remember things)

Everyone thinks he's this enigmatic person but his sister knows deep down how much of a deeply unaffected, unserious, and unmotivated individual he is. So much so that he just bullshits all of his interactions with others. But because he's so incredibly beautiful and intelligent, it just backfires and blows up in his face with unwanted popularity.

One by one, people begin to catch on. I like to think that Nina attends school and Heidelberg and visits Munich occasionally. Oh and in this AU, Karl ISN'T a loser and actually remembers and cares for the one woman that loves him and helps him sort out his daddy issues.

An example of a Johan moment:

Karl: Did you finish the paper-

Johan: Were you born because you were wanted?

Karl: Shut the fuck up please

[whencyclopedia]

Robert Schumann

Robert Schumann (1810-1856) was a German composer of Romantic music, particularly piano and orchestral works, as well as over 250 songs or lieder. He was also a musical critic and founded his own magazine. His wife Clara Schumann (1819-1896), a concert pianist and composer of renown in her own right, inspired Robert to attempt larger-scale works such as symphonies.

Schumann's work was not especially popular in his own lifetime, and he was continuously troubled by the spectre of mental illness. He attempted suicide, and, suffering from hallucinations, he ended his days in an asylum. Robert Schumann is today considered one of the greatest exponents of Romantic music, where emphasis is given to personal artistic expression and experimentation, often with inspiration coming from art, literature, and nature.

Early Life

Robert Schumann was born in Zwickau, Saxony, on 8 June 1810. His father, August Schumann, was a bookseller, but his interest went far deeper than merely selling literature, for he translated into German the complete works of Lord Byron (1788-1822) and Walter Scott (1771-1832). This perhaps explains Robert's life-long passion for literature, especially the work of Romantic writers like Jean Paul Richter (1763-1825), his personal favourite. Robert studied at the Zwickau Lyceum in an uneventful youth in terms of academic achievement.

Robert's life turned upside down when his father died in 1826 after suffering some sort of inner mental turmoil. There was further family tragedy when Robert's sister Emilie, who had also been troubled by mental problems, committed suicide. Robert thereafter lived in perpetual fear that he, too, would one day succumb to such an illness. Spoilt by his mother, Robert was "allowed to indulge in such expensive tastes as champagne and cigars while still at school" (Arnold, 1647). Robert had written his own music while still a child, and his skills merited taking private piano lessons in Leipzig where he also studied law from 1828. Unsettled in his studies – it was his mother who had pushed for him to study law – Robert moved on to the University of Heidelberg in 1829. Still not impressing his tutors and still showing little interest in law, which he described as "chilly jurisprudence with its ice-cold definitions", Robert decided to go on a grand tour to see the cultural sights of Switzerland and Italy (Steen, 400).

Schumann did not particularly impress with his piano playing. His hopes of becoming a concert pianist were, in any case, dashed early on in a bizarre accident involving a device he himself designed to strengthen his fingers. That is, at least, the traditional view. Some more modern historians present the theory that the injury came about as a result of a mercury treatment for syphilis (which is noted in his medical records). Whatever the real cause, Schumann certainly suffered a debilitating and permanent hand injury. Instead, then, Schumann turned to music criticism and creating his own compositions. Here he was to have much more success. At last, he had found his vocation. As Schumann himself remarked on completing his first compositions: "On sleepless nights I am conscious of a mission which rises before me like a distant peak" (Schonberg, 182).

Robert Schumann's Birthplace

Unknown Artist (Public Domain)

Continue reading...

[deedala]

🍃w e e k l y t a g w e d n e s d a y🍃

thank you to @energievie for writing the game this week and thanks for tagging me!! also thanks for tagging me for this and also for the pinterest game which im putting down below @lingy910y @gallapiech @suzy-queued @creepkinginc @thepupperino @blue-disco-lights @crossmydna @jrooc @heymacy @wehangout @mybrainismelted @xninetiestrendx @heymrspatel XOXOXO all of you 💖💖💖

Name: deanna

Age: noel-aged

Location: ooohiooo

And now...

What is your DJ name? i dunno, when i worked in college radio it was something about a fish... okay wait yes, lets go with DJ Fishy 🙃

If you were a genre of music, what would it be? whatever chappell roan's the rise and fall of a midwest princess is

What would you title your biography? Wellp

What are the first three things you'd do if you were invisible? i like this idea of sneaking onto expensive modes of transportation. i would do that assuming i had no where else to be and no responsibilities to see to 😆 and i would also rob rich people... and maybe i would go for walks int he middle of the night by myself and feel safe lol

What subject do you wish was taught in every school?  all the important money and personal finance basics that they used to teach but then stopped because it made it easier to prey on adults who didnt know how to manage their credit and debt or do their taxes correctly 😜

When was the last time you tried something for the first time and what was it?  uuhhh...the only thing i can think of right now is a lavender flavored matcha drink that was recommended a few months ago? ive gotten it again a few times (including today!) and its very good. im so happy i know what lavender tastes like now 😆

What is the most underrated city you have ever visited?  this is very hard...i dont even really know how to know how most cities are rated anyway?? i feel like all the cities ive been to and loved are pretty universally rated highly lol. uhhhhh...i dunno.. Heidelberg, Germany? Luxembourg City? one of those.

What day in your life would you like to relive? uuhh i dunno, im going with wedding day because i barely remember any of it, it was such a blur. i would be less responsible and have more fun 😅

If you could eliminate one thing from your daily routine, what would it be and why?  i really love sleeping and going to bed and falling asleep. but i hate waking up and i hate losing the time to unconsciousness. so if i could stay alive and not be tired and never sleep that would be so cool.

How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse?  i like to think i could last pretty long because i am a huge wimp and have great Nope It's Time To Go instincts. Also im good at climbing.

What would be the most surprising scientific discovery imaginable? uuhhh backwards time travel

If you could have any view out your office window, what would you choose? puget sound with the olympic mountain range in the distance

☀️pinterest tag game☀️

i was tagged to do this pinterest game where you search Fashion, Pantone, Mood, and Food and post the first pin from each of the search results. gotta be honest buddies i dont really use pinterest very often and when i do its for random photo references sooooo...

x x x x

i do not know what is happening with that outfit. that is not really a color i would pick but its fine? the mood is pretty but looks kind of melancholy. that last photo though??? oh my god let me climb into there i wanna sit in the cozy rustic kitchen and eat pastries pleaaaaassseeeee!!!!!!

and now to tag in more folks to play either or both of these games!! 💖💖 @michellemisfit @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @the-rat-wins @lee-ow @mmmichyyy @iansw0rld @transmickey @burninface @loftec @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @vintagelacerosette @palepinkgoat @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos @sleepyfacetoughguy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @sleepyheadgallavich @rereadanon @mikhailoisbaby @mickeysgaymom @themarchg1rl @callivich @softmick @captainjowl @howlinchickhowl @spookygingerr @spoonfulstar @steorie @whatwouldmickeydo @burninface

[thegianpieromennitipolis]

SENSI DELL'ARTE - di Gianpiero Menniti

L'ILLUSIONE DELL'ONFALO

Lo stile è davvero uno dei segni tangibili dell'arte, di ogni espressione, sia essa un testo pittorico o plastico, un'architettura oppure un'opera di scrittura.

In un luogo, qualcosa accade.

Si staglia, s'imprime nello sguardo e suscita un irrefrenabile moto d'animo.

È il primo passo.

Prima lentamente e poi con impeto, i luoghi si moltiplicano: non per mera imitazione ma per slancio creativo.

Così, quando nel 1874, a Parigi, nello studio del fotografo Nadar sul Boulevard des Capucines si tenne la prima mostra "Impressionista", il fuoco di quello stile già diffondeva i suoi lapilli nell'emisfero sud del globo, in Australia, a Melbourne.

Lì si formò la scuola detta di "Heidelberg" - dal nome di una località a est, nella periferia rurale della città - e sempre a Melbourne si tenne, nel 1889, la prima mostra passata alla storia con questo titolo: "9 by 5 Impression Exhibition".

Tra i 183 dipinti, almeno 40 erano di Arthur Streeton, non meno di 46 di Charles Conder, assieme ai contributi minori di Frederick McCubbin e Charles Douglas Richardson.

Ma la parte più cospicua spettò, con 63 opere, a Tom Roberts (1856 - 1931) artista di origine britannica.

E britannica sembra essere l'influenza "impressionista" - Turner, Whistler - che colse la vena figurativa di quella che venne annoverata come la prima scuola artistica veracemente australiana.

Ma il ceppo originario s'era già formato nella seconda metà degli anni '80, il "Box Hill artists' camp", con il gruppo di artisti "en plein air" che in seguito costituirono l'ossatura della "Heidelberg School".

Certamente, Roberts fu il più intenso nel lasciarsi cogliere dallo slancio di misurarsi con la cattura dell'istante nella naturalezza del primo impatto.

E se è vero che le sue tele echeggiano Whistler pur concedendosi inizialmente all'impronta vaga di Constable, le stesse mostrano un notevole coraggio nell'esplorare i fondamenti della visione sensibile, della costruzione im-mediata dell'immagine pittorica.

Così, le tracce irrequiete dell'arte migrarono lasciando l'Europa, annebbiata dalla "Belle Époque", nella tragica illusione di essere l'omphalòs (ὀμφαλός), l'ombelico del mondo.

- "Going home", 1889, National Gallery of Australia; "Treno serale per Hawthorn", 1889, Art Gallery of New South Wales; "Andante", 1889, Art Gallery of South Australia.

[thewondermentofillustration]

Arthur Streeton - The River, New South Wales, 1896, Australia, oil on canvas; The Purple Noon's Transparent Might, Sydney, New South Wales; The Murray and the Mountain, 1930, oil on canvas

Sir Arthur Ernest Streeton (1867–1943) was a great Australian Impressionist landscape painter. He was born in Duneed, Victoria, Australia. Aged 15 years, he began night classes at the National Gallery of Victoria School of Design. He also learned the rudiments from studying art manuals and photographs.

At age nineteen, he began an apprenticeship as a lithographer. He also joined a painting group where he painted plein air, alongside Tom Roberts, Frederick McCubbin, and Louis Abrahams. He soon became a full time painter and developed a friendship with Charles Conder. The group of artists often camped and painted outdoors at Box Hill, Heidelberg, and the Yarra. They also provided art lessons and formed the Heidelberg School. During the 1890s, Streeton traveled further inland in New South Wales to explore the outback and the Hawkesbury River.

Streeton traveled to England. He took some time to adjust his artistic identity and become acquainted with very different landscapes. His best market was sending his English works for sale in Australia. Gradually, he began to win recognition in England, France, and the United States.

In 1915, Streeton served as a private in the Australian Army Medical Corps. After three years, he was appointed an official war artist and painted the Western Front in France. After the war, Streeton returned to painting romantic visions of the Australian landscape. By this time, he was a well-established painter. In 1937, was knighted for services to the arts.

[pers-books]

Pamela Salem 1944-2024

Friday, 23 February 2024 - Reported by Marcus

The actress Pamela Salem has died at the age of 80.

Pamela Salem appeared in three Doctor Who stories. In 1977 she played Toos in the acclaimed Fourth Doctor story The Robots of Death. Her voice was used as one of the voices of Xoanon in the previous story, The Face of Evil.   She returned to the series in 1988 playing Rachel Jensen alongside the Seventh Doctor in Remembrance of the Daleks. She later reprised her role as Jensen in the Big Finish audio spin-off series Counter-Measures and 1963: The Assassination Games. 

Pamela Salem was born in Bombay, India, and educated at Heidelberg University in Germany and later at the Central School of Speech and Drama in London, England.

Film work included the role of Miss Moneypenny in the 1983 James Bond film Never Say Never Again, starring Sean Connery. 

Other television appearances included parts in EastEnders, where she played mafia affiliate Joanne Francis, and as the evil witch Belor in ITV's Into the Labyrinth.

Other television guest appearances have included roles in the third episode of  Blake's 7, The Onedin Line, The Professionals, Howards' Way, Ever Decreasing Circles, Tripods and All Creatures Great and Small

She later moved to the United States where she continued her career in series such as Magnum, P.I., Party of Five, ER and The West Wing where she played a British prime minister.

[Source]

[lionofchaeronea]

Golden Willows, Julian Ashton, ca. 1907

[olympic-paris]

Frederick McCubbin (1855-1917) was an Australian artist, one of the founders of the Heidelberg school of Australian impressionism.

His ability to portray the Australian bush is shown in the looseness of brushwork, the backlighting he adopted and his intensification of colour.

This painting, Lost (1907), covers a favourite theme of his - the tragic conflict between nature and the individual in a human drama. It was completed twenty one years after an earlier painting, also called Lost (1886).

The painting features a child who has become lost within the bush landscape, a symbol of vulnerability and anxiety as they are enveloped by their surroundings. The dense bush makes it all the more dangerous, in environmental conditions that are extremely harsh. You are left to speculate on the outcome for this poor desolate child.

[imsorryimlate]

Okay so, back in September when Van Helsing was introduced and it was revealed to me (a first-time reader) that Seward had been a student in Amsterdam, I started looking up international education back in them olden days, and I fell down a rabbit hole.

I had trouble finding proper sources for the 1800s in general and the later years in particular, so please be kind to me. Also I’m not an expert or anything, I’m just a nerd with a library card.

To begin with, international education, especially for medical practitioners, was not unusual. They even had a specific term for it: peregrinatio medica (compare with peregrinatio academica). A medical student was almost expected to study at several universities: in both Lindberg’s book and Ashworth Underwood’s article (see sources below), the students they accounted for often started out with a university education in their home country, and then moved on to two or three (or possibly more) universities abroad.

Because the medical community didn’t have the same ease of communication as we do today, studying under a lot of different masters meant that the students learned more broadly and came into contact with more cutting-edge scientific and medical discoveries. Another important part of their studies abroad was to establish a network of contacts that they could then keep up with via letters, and through that contact keep track of developments in the field.

The educational language was Latin, especially in the fields of medicine and law, and according to our friend Wikipedia it remained that way until at least the 1960s. It is also worth noting that the shared language in Europe for a very long time was primarily French and to a lesser degree German, rather than English, which means that depending on how long our dear doctor Seward stayed in Amsterdam (and perhaps other places?), he might be able to speak French and/or German in addition to Latin.

As for ages, it was not uncommon for students to start their university careers very early, such as their late teens. Johan Henrik Thomander, a well-known Swedish 19th century professor and bishop, enrolled at Lund University at the tender age of fourteen! However, since a lot of international students attended universities in their home countries at first, they didn’t attend universities abroad until they were a bit older; at Leiden, Ashworth Underwood finds that most British students enrolled around the ages of 20-24. Which, you know, with Seward being twenty-nine in Dracula, gives us an idea of when he would have been in Amsterdam (somewhere in the mid- to late 1880s).

By the 1800s, the practise of the peregrinatio medica fell out of fashion, mainly for two reasons: the political situation in Europe was getting increasingly unstable, and the universities started being better in all countries in general. Before, the only way to get the best education was to go to the best university, but as higher education became more standardised, the quality increased across the board. However, studying abroad at several universities was still not unusual (for example: the Russian doctor Nil Filatov studied in Moscow, Vienna, Berlin, Heidelberg, and Prague in the late 19th century).

The thing is... the leading university in the Netherlands for international students was Leiden, not Amsterdam. It was more popular in the 1600s and 1700s for international students to go there, especially British ones.

(Table of Leiden university’s international students from Ashworth Underwood’s article)

By the 1800s, universities in the UK were just as good, if not better. However, medical schools in the Netherlands followed the so-called “German school”, and therefore offered more freedom to students in general with regards to how they structured their studies. In modern times, Amsterdam actually ranks higher than Leiden when it comes to leading universities, but I have not been able to find out when exactly that shift happened. Still, it is more likely that Seward would have chosen Leiden rather than Amsterdam, not only for its prestigiousness but because of its longstanding popularity with British students.

So here are some theories of why Seward chose Amsterdam specifically:

1. University and tuition fees could possibly have been lower at Amsterdam, I don’t know. The cost of living as well. Grell et al. mentions that international students in Leiden preferred to finish their studies as quickly as possible (some in only 3 years rather than the 10 years it took at Oxford and Cambridge) because the cost of living was so high. However, that was back in the 1700s, and I can’t speak to whether or not that would have been the case in the late 1800s, or if it would have differed much from Amsterdam.

2. A lot of people in the fandom headcanon that Seward’s father was Not Great, which might mean he would have tried to micromanage Seward’s studies – perhaps Seward just fled to the first foreign university that would accept him?

3. The Artis. Lindberg and Grell et al. map out the reasons that would attract a student to a specific university, one which is the available facilities, such as anatomical theatres, libraries, and botanical gardens. The zoological gardens of Amsterdam – Natura Artis Magistra – opened in 1838 as a cultural and scientific institution, which included collections of plant, animal, mineral, and ethnographic objects, as well as living animals. It was also a place to enjoy orchestral concerts. It was a prestigious institution, and it was private; a membership in the Amsterdam Zoological Society was an important part of identification with polite society. However, it was open to professors and students at the university.

While Seward would have had access to similar collections in the London Zoological Society’s Regent’s Park Zoological Garden, the collections at the Artis were presumably superior. I like this theory a lot! Seward is such a nerd, and I could see him being attracted to Amsterdam by the promise of access to the Artis.

4. Final theory, and my shameless favourite: what brought Seward to Amsterdam was Van Helsing. Grell et al. point out that one major aspect of a university that would attract students was specific professors. So it got me thinking... we know that Van Helsing is a prominent scientist and scholar in his field, which he states to be matters of the brain. So, perhaps Seward had been interested in the brain and the mind, and read Van Helsing’s research, and decided to go to Amsterdam specifically for him!

It was not something that was uncommon or frowned upon, so I think it would work without it coming across stalker-ish. And as someone who has had a whole host of professors whom I’ve previously greatly admired for their research, only to realise that they're not what I expected when I met them, I kinda love the idea of Seward meeting Van Helsing and being wholly unprepared for how strange and eccentric (and endearing) he is. Going from admiring him from afar to meeting him and thinking he’s a bit strange and then becoming his “pet student”.

Anyway, those were my thoughts. And I’m sorry this post became so long.

 Sources:

English-speaking Medical Students at Leyden by E. Ashworth Underwood

The History of Medical Education in Europe and the United States, With Respect to Time and Proficiency by Eugène J.F.M. Custers and Olle ten Cate

Science and Culture for Members Only: The Amsterdam Zoo Artis in the Nineteenth Century by Donna C. Mehos

Peregrinatio medica: svenska medicinares studieresor i Europa 1600–1800 by Bo S. Lindberg [in Swedish]

Centres of medical excellence?: medical travel and education in Europe, 1500-1789 by Ole Peter Grell, Andrew Cunningham & Jon Arrizabalaga

Dutch Anatomy and Clinical Medicine in 17th-Century Europe by Rina Knoeff

I had to track down the books by Lindberg and Grell et al. in their physical form, so I cannot provide access to them. However, Rina Knoeff’s article was published here, and for the rest of the sources, they are articles and e-books that I’m sure you could possibly find online somewhere ;)

[thebirdandhersong]

popping my head through your window (and possibly shattering the glass woops) to say: I am alive! I've been spending time with family, studying (I can safely say now that Professor Joy is the best and I would 10/10 follow her back to England to take her course at King's College if it weren't for the financial part. She was SO lovely and her class was amazing), preparing for fall classes, chipping away steadily at my essays and my fairy tale novel, hammering out the occasional blog post or poem, cooking, sleeping (or trying to, anyway), doing social things (I had one thing almost every day this week and it just about killed me. Thank God the person I was supposed to meet up with today cancelled, otherwise I'd be pretty much dead), reading TONS (am currently reading Sophie's World, War and Peace, Aggressively Happy, Jamie Smith's On the Road, Gordon Fee's How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth, and the Heidelberg Catechism for kicks, as well as working my way through a few class readings), and have caught up with a few stories I meant to catch up with (in other words: went to watch Barbie in the theatres, which was brilliant and not what I expected, and finished The Bear season 2, which.... I don't know, guys, it was a Lot). Things have been BUSY on the school front and many concerning things have been revealed BUT all is well and all shall be well!!

I shall be back in September. At present things are still SUPER busy. But I shall keep y'all in my prayers! Miss you and love you!!

[bughideout]

New phone theme >_<

Also bcs I wanted to ramble about some of my goals in life

Well in pre-IB I'm going to mainly focus on physics and mathematics AA, both things I'll be taking HL courses in.

My plan is to go to Heidelberg university, atleast, that's my plan right now. I want to study physics, my biggest dreams is to either become a particle physicist or an astrophysicist. Both sound amazing to me.

I've had the dream of becoming a scientist since I was 6, and the last 4 or so years I've loved astronomy in particular. I even own a moon ceiling lamp! Though I'm unable to put it up currently.

The next 3 years I'm going to be in school, then I take two years off to work to afford a surgery I have to have and be able to properly save up to move to Germany.

And then I'll be in school as long as possible, because I love learning. I love physics, I love math, this plan has stuck for a while now even if I've been very indecisive at times.