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books are portals

🌹m. xxi. lit grad. and this is my book blog. 🌹
currently reading: eleanor oliphant is completely fine by gail honeyman

    • henryclervals:

      “When I was 21 I read “Anna Karenina.” I thought Anna and Vronsky were soul mates. They were deeply in love and therefore had to be together. I found Karenin cruel and oppressive for keeping his wife from her destiny. Levin and Kitty and the peasants bored me. I read those parts quickly. Last year I turned 49, and I read the book again. This time, I loved Levin and Kitty. I loved the fact that after she declined his proposal he waited for a long time to mend his hurt feelings and then asked her again. I loved that she had grown up in the interim and now felt grateful for a second chance. Anna and Vronsky bored me. I thought Anna was selfish and shrill. My heart went out to poor Karenin, who tried to be decent. What has literature taught me about love? Literature (along with experience) has taught me that love means different things at different points in our lives, and that often as we get older we gravitate toward the quieter, kinder plotlines, and find them to be richer than we had originally understood them to be.”

      — Ann Patchett, “A Sentimental Education - Writers on Love” (via zenshipper)

      (via bookcub)

  • briyarmara:

    17.11.18

    i’m well into the last first time of my university career and our dissertation proposals are due soon. my third year english dissertation is actually going to be a creative piece; i am to present a poetry collection for my final project at university. at first i was nervous, and seriously against producing art that will be subject to marking and guidelines. i have taken a course in creative writing every year of study and it has severely impacted my sense of style and voice. i have never been self conscious about it till i had teachers tell me that i should write like this, that this is good writing because it won awards and accolades. but then i remembered that writing is perhaps the most important thing in my life and i want to pursue a career in writing, if not at least engage in the world creative writing in a professional setting. and i need to trust my voice is strong enough, that my words are true enough. i need to believe that my creative output is more than metrics and grades. so i’m reading to gather inspiration– above is night sky with exit wounds by ocean voung and the year of magical thinking by joan didion 

  • briyarmara:

    16.09.18

    the plant shop i went to the other day had a sweet little dog just chilling about and the sheer edenic energy that the place radiated increased sevenfold. the excursion was a welcome reprieve from the stress–but also the excitement–of a new academic year. it’s nice to just be a person buying a plant and not the various roles must perform as a result of my responsibilities and obligations

    • briyarmara: “23.08.18 i went to the scottish national gallery of modern art for the first time during my last day in edinburgh. the piece pictured above “ There Will Be No Miracles Here” by nathan coley always seems to arrest me—i find it...

  • briyarmara:

    23.08.18

    i went to the scottish national gallery of modern art for the first time during my last day in edinburgh. the piece pictured above “ There Will Be No Miracles Here” by nathan coley always seems to arrest me—i find it simultaneously defiant and desolate. coley was one of the first contemporary scottish artists i was exposed to in my secondary school years, his public installation of luminous text made me feel as if these words are bellows from the earth itself

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