When Frederico Fellini Said “i Dont Like The Idea Of ‘understanding’ A Film” And When He Said “i

“You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch. Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it’s really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy. You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can’t write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that’s really not you. It’s not ingrained. It’s not your personality. Your personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like. If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it’s the only way.”

— Julien Smith, The Flinch (via wnq-anonymous)

dreamy

A Lady's Boudoir

Paintings by Delphin Enjolras

French, 1857-1945

small things to add to a hand written letter:

a teabag of your favourite tea

heart shaped note with cute drawings

stickers on the outside of the letter, and inside

handmade paper doll

small print or postcard

a sketch or a little painting or a poem

glitter or sequins or pearls or buttons

small candies or bubblegum

cut out magazine pictures or articles

folded paper, like origami

textile like small ribbons or clothing patches

coins or flat things found in a souvenir shop

pressed flower or leaf

The Grotto of Venus built by Mad King Ludwig II, the perfect place to take a paramour.

I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because “romantic” doesn’t mean “sugary”. It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.

Catherine Breillat  (via mermaidveins)

Detail: Apollo and the Arts, 1897, by Paul Jean Gervais.