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chapter three

@greenberetgirl / greenberetgirl.tumblr.com

Silvia, 31, an Italian abroad. ENFP. This blog is like that section in bookshops that encompasses both fantasy and sci fi. There's really no rhyme or reason to it.
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academicssay

Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life as a tenure-track academic due to overproduction of doctoral graduates compounded by institutional overreliance on precarious academic employment

#academia
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rebeccamock

Who wants tea? A while ago I did two animations for AirBnB, for an internal art project. I keep forgetting to share them, I love them both! This one was based on the cosiness, safety, and warmth that comes from being in someone’s home. Also based on my love of tea.

#rebecca mock#tea time
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engagemachine
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brutereason

I find it fascinating that people who choose not to have children are generally assumed to feel really strongly about not having children (or even to feel really strongly against children, anyone’s children, in general). I am probably not going to have children, not because I REALLY REALLY HATE the idea of having children, but because I don’t really really love it. Out of all the major decisions I will make in my life, this one is the only irreversible one. I can sell a house, quit a job, divorce a spouse, whatever. I cannot unhave a child. I cannot opt out of being a parent once I become a parent. I can’t even take a step back for the sake of self-care or whatever, or else my child will suffer.

So for me, having children is fuck yes or not at all. The default will be to remain childfree. Having children should be an opt-in decision, not an opt-out one. Until/unless I develop really strong feelings about wanting to have children, I won’t have them, even if that means I never end up having them at all.

This is really, REALLY well put.

#childlessness for dummies#truer words were never spoken
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sincerelylancelot
❛ different roads sometimes lead to the same castle ❜
                                - the war of the five queens, G.R.R MARTIN
#asoiaf
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bluebeardsbride-archive
The voice isn’t on its own, ringing in a hollow space. Open any page and a full score rises from its word-notes, of winds howling, teardrops falling, diamond earrings tinkling, snapping teeth, sneezing, and wheezing. Storytelling for Angela Carter was an island full of noises and sweet airs, and like Caliban, who heard a thousand twangling instruments hum about his ears, she was tuned to an ethereal universe packed with sensations, to which she was alive with every organ. Acoustics are not the only means, however, that she draws on to convey the lucid dreams she creates in her fiction. Her imagination is spatial, an architect’s axonometric vision, as she moves us through palaces and castles, forests and tundras, dungeons and attics, tracking with us down pathways towards her various sealed depositories of secrets, those bloody chambers. What reader does not explore with her these passages and woodland tracks? Who does not feel the Beast’s dark carriage like a hearse rumbling towards his eerily uninhabited domain? And who does not sense, through her powerful evocations, the pricking of thorns, the jaw-cracking stringiness of granny, the jangling of bed springs, the licking of a big cat’s tongue, the soft luxurious furs and velvets and skin, and the piercing contrasts with ice, glass, metal?

— Marina Warner, excerpt of Chamber of Secrets: The Sorcery of Angela Carter

#Marina Warner#Angela Carter
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