daily prompt: we can be taught.
i’ve learned a couple of lessons in my life. some really didn’t come cheap.
but there are a lot of questions left, questions that bother me.
and i search for answers.
nobody taught us to quit. it’s true. no one ever told us.
they say there’s always the easy choice and the right choice.
i wonder: is there a point when giving up becomes the better choice?
will it ever be alright to throw in the towel?
or do i have to be ashamed to give up on something?
is it even my choice, eventually?
if not, who’s to decide, then?
will my loved ones pressure me into something, and not be aware of it?
will i pressure myself because i believe it’s better for someone else?
will it truly be better for them?
or will i make it worse?
is it even worth it, anymore?
knowing how and when to let go is universally important.
so how come no one can tell the proper way to do it?
how come humans are not born with the ability to make sense of it all?
but maybe we are. maybe we just need practise.
and maybe this is what we have to teach ourselves.
now if you’ll excuse me, i have some giving up to do.
daily prompt: the artist’s eye.
is there a painting or sculpture you’re drawn to?
it was tough to choose only one. here it is.
the portrait of amalie zuckerkandl, painted by gustav klimt.
i wish i were a critic or something, maybe i could describe what it is that captures me about this portrait.
it is unfinished.
it’s sad, even though the canvas is covered in pink and turquoise.
all the colours in the world merge on her skin, and yet she seems to faint.
her eyes speak volumes about how she knows so much but dares to tell so little.
* *** *
when i first saw it during my graduation trip in vienna, i was hooked, immediately.
i read that klimt died in 1918. he never had a chance to finish this portrait.
i sometimes wonder if her dress would have been as black as the ribbon around her neck.
but i can’t imagine anything else than the naked canvas for her gown.
it really emphasizes her expression.
and maybe the painter wondered the same thing.
maybe that’s why he cautiously worked out every detail of her bare skin
and died, before he could think of a shroud.
daily prompt: travelling
ELEVEN PM you zip up your suitcases. this is it. already you wonder
how in the world are you going to carry them around?
TWELVE AM you’re in bed, ready to sleep. the alarm is set. you forgot nothing
or did you?
ONE THIRTY AM you’re awake. you’re excited
will you sleep at all, tonight?
TWO AM the alarm goes off. you think
the best ten minutes of sleep. Continue reading
sometimes it feels like it was yesterday, daily prompt: 21st-century-citizen.
sometimes it feels like someone else’s memory.
an air of purity had surrounded her, when she first noticed me. i was sitting across the fire, and through the flames, i looked over to her, from time to time
wondering where she came from
wondering how many people were in love with her.
and then she noticed. i was embarrassed to stare at her, but her rather tragic face lit up when she smiled, and i couldn’t turn away. she reminded me of sophy gray, who once sat for millais, as a young girl.
oh god, she was hautingly beautiful. Continue reading
this time in response to two daily prompts
misfit posts and morality play.
i vaguely remember a quote that i read somewhere:
for me, maturity is when a person hurts you
and you try to understand their situation
rather than hurting them back.
if this is not maturity, then i wish it were. Continue reading