“Don’t try to make life a mathematics problem with yourself in the center and everything coming out equal. When you’re good, bad things can still happen. And if you’re bad, you can still be lucky.”
— Barbara Kingsolver
— Barbara Kingsolver
if i ever got sentenced to house arrest i’d just laugh at the judge
John Berger Ways of Seeing
I always think it’s funny that artistic nudity is considered educational and is on display to the masses, when in reality those paintings were originally intended for a gentleman’s private boudoir. Famous work like The Rokeby Venus in the National Gallery were literally intended to be high brow pornography…
Also did you know that in the 19th Century and probably prior to that too, men found it difficult to consummate their marriages, because they found female pubic hair so confusing. All of the images they had ever seen of women were of pretty much vagina-less female subjects in art, and prostitutes generally shaved themselves to avoid lice. So when it came to the wedding night, they were in for a bit of a surprise! (Jaded-Mandarin)
What are you saying, pray tell?
— James whistler
— Virginia Woolf, Selected Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)
— Ian McEwan, Atonement (via larmoyante)
Rest in peace, sir.
was probably the best decision that I’ve ever made.
I’ve lived on my own and now I’m home. I supported myself for almost a year before moving back, but it wasn’t because I could not foot the bills or cope with the real world. My decision was based on a need for change and to really dive into gaining professional experience. Unfortunately, for those with art history degrees who are pursuing museum work, that means volunteering or unpaid internships.
And with that understanding, I moved home planning on volunteering in a few places and getting a temp job in an office. Work on the resume, save some money on rent, and get the wheels in motion. To add to the appeal, moving out of my college town was necessary. It was a small town and I was getting really tired of the setting in general.
The first day home, reasonably settled and already feeling refreshed, I printed out my volunteer applications and went the two museums to introduce myself. The first was a small museum in town that had a posted a need for docents. They happily accepted my application and the gears were set in motion. My next stop was at a larger and privately own museum somewhat down the road, a few towns over.
It’s my favorite museum, located in a beautiful area nestled sweetly into the rolling green hills. It warms my heart just to park in the parking lot and to see my old friends, the familiar collection.
So in I walked and went right to the admissions desk. I explained that I had an application for volunteering and I’d like to introduce myself to the person in charge of volunteering. She came down and accepted my envelop but had a meeting and it was nice to meet me, etc. It was kind but I got the impression that it would be another couple pieces of paper in another filing cabinet for a few months. At least I tried, I thought, and went on to the galleries.
Upstairs, after looking at a few rooms, I heard my name called.
The woman’s meeting was postponed and she asked me if I’d like to sit down and have a chat. On our way down the stairs, I received the happiest shock to date: she offered me a job.
I took it. I work in a museum now. Holy shit.
— E.B. White (via newberrylibrary)
— Henry David Thoreau, Walden. (via acknowledgetheabsurd)