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Monday kind of feeling :(

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A selection of emojis from a love letter written in 1916.

The final one appears to have been the author's favorite as he wrote: "I'm particularly proud of this one - It looks so natural. Bless its 'ittle 'eart-"

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Love between knights and women in pre-raphaelism.

@danilades.artist on insta - your support means the world to me.

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You’re never too old to learn something new. Never stop studying. 

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Dominika Brudny

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Dalziel Brothers after Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), 1857, wood engraving. Illustration for The Palace of Art in Tennyson’s Poems.

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richard papen was so real for being more upset at his friends not inviting him to a drug fuelled orgy than finding out they killed someone at said event

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donna tartt: literally writes an entire 600 page book about how it can be dangerous to do things just for the aesthetic

us, already making pinterest boards: oh to be a classics student in vermont in the 80s drinking whiskey from a teacup and occasionally murdering people 

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studies at the Musée D’Orsay

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if i could just steal the moon from the sky to keep myself for who else could love her like i do

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It is always exciting to discover new streets.

ig credit: aquietdiary.

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"you are your own home"

-Bianca Sparacino, "The Strength In Our Scars"

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Adored

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I think about coffee. I think about the perceived banality of it in a world where we carry our work wherever we go. I know the culture around it well. Sipping a cup of take away coffee bit by bit, in between paragraphs of an essay or throughout a video call meeting.

This year, in the process of learning to decouple my passions from arbitrary notions of productivity, I began to feel that my daily cup of coffee represented something I’ve outgrown. And rather than a conscious choice I make everyday, it really was more of a tired chore I held onto for the sake of a ritual that no longer means anything to me. I wondered why I even bothered to make it. Nothing about it was pleasurable. I realised I never actually took taste into consideration when I drank coffee.

So then I was interested. I wanted to understand it.

I began my research and fell into a whole new world. It exhilarated me that there is a scientific approach to it. There’s so much to know, new skills to acquire, a whole new community. Something about it felt compatible with a slow and conscious way of living. I found myself falling in love with it.

A couple of months into this love story, I got myself an espresso machine. I delved into grind size, altitudes, single origins and tasting notes. I was coming to a new way of seeing the world, a new appreciation for the bounty of nature, the goodness that comes from working the land, and all the human connections that brings fresh beans to my doorstep. Coffee used to be a means to an end. Up until this year I never thought it could taste like anything other than “coffee.” It feels so silly having gotten to this age without knowing that coffee could taste of rose or lavender or nougat.

As someone who used to always be in such a hurry, coffee now allows me to stay in touch with my thoughts and feelings rather than propelling me into auto-pilot workaholism. Coffee can mean a lot of things. I’m certainly not ascribing one purpose to it. But personally it feels like I’ve reclaimed a part of myself that I had once surrendered to toxicity in the past. I’m nourished.

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Instagram credit: cosyfaerie