songs for autumn evenings #1

(This was supposed to be posted yesterday. Clearly it wasn't.)

I just... have too many feelings about this song.

Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

This is my favourite little french girl in the world.

10.27

I looked through one of my sketchbooks yesterday. I had noted somewhere:

"I wonder how people think. Literally how. What do thoughts look like? Do all people think in pictures like I do?"

A few days ago it occured to me:

What do people think about?

I think too much about fictional characters and their relationships. Spend time making up characters and stories, and then spend time cursing myself for not working seriously on them. Make up crazy what-if scenarios, thinking about what could happen today or tomorrow or the day after.

Also I spend time worrying about how nobody likes me and how I should put my foot in my mouth sometimes and how people might be avoiding me. Then, I think about how ridiculous that is.

I'm ridiculous a lot of the time.

I also think about: the weather, what I should wear, when I'm going to get my hair cut. Cats and food and sleepiness. Fears. If I'm hungry, if I'm tired (I'm almost always tired or hungry). Schoolwork. Things that happened. Things I want to happen. People on the internet, people in my life. Myself: Am I good enough? Am I going to fail? Do I want to be who I am? Will I achieve what I want? Then, soft beds and running water and rain. Or sun.



PS.: I promise there will be pretty pictures next time.
PPS.: I was thinking about starting to write in Greek. Maybe I will. I don't know.
PPPS.: What do you think about?

I'm back.

It's home.

I've got things to do.


(I've posted this song before. I don't care.)

Apparently, inspiring things.

Female student at Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, working with an oxy-acetylene cutter. Date unknown.
(Pratt Institute Libraries)

(Lily Elise, Edwardian actress)

(Bogota, Capital of Colombia)

(Fetish Fiesta, by toerning on deviantart)



(Zoe Saldana, actress)

(Please, if any of you knows the sources for the uncredited photographs, please tell me so I can credit them properly)

PS. I got a tumblr! My username is, surprisingly, Elviella. Tell me if you use it too, I'd love to find you there as well. C:

1.20

My thoughts run through my fingers when I write.
I feel them take shape and become coherent, become true. Their essence is in the words, and the essence of the words is in the writings.
I only really think, really concentrate when I write. The rest of the time my thoughts are endless chains running around my head.
I once read a book about a girl who wrote. That girl wrote because only then she could think. Reading that book, I realised how true that was for me as well.
When I write, and when I talk, is when I truly think. It's easier, much easier to concentrate on something serious then. And then the thoughts run through my fingers and onto the paper, or through my tongue and onto the air. I hear them, I read them, and they're crystal clear, existing and constant.
That's why I need to write. Now I know.

Oh, hi there, summer.

I didn't really see you coming.

Please, wait a little for me to get used to you. I need you and I don't want you to pass without realising your presence.

Welcome in my heart.

PS. I should seriously rethink my latest blogging choices and write something longer than, say, five lines. Yeah.