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Sharp Objects, 2018, dir. Jean-Marc Vallée

SE01E04 Ripe

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finally saying goodbye to pula until our next meeting 🧃

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and some more postcards from istria

cannot express how i've felt, but the only thing i know is that i'd like to live inside of these fragments 🌾

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ne znam kako ću sebi doći nakon ovog puta 🌾

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istria, 2k23 🌾

#Pula #istria #croatia

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almost like summer

Belgrade, 2k23 ⛱️

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“My mother left me a word in her dialect that she used to describe how she felt when she was racked by contradictory sensations that were tearing her apart. She said that inside her she had a frantumaglia, a jumble of fragments. The frantumaglia (she pronounced it frantummàglia) depressed her. Sometimes it made her dizzy, sometimes it made her mouth taste like iron. It was the word for a disquiet not otherwise definable, it referred to a miscellaneous crowd of things in her head, debris in a muddy water of the brain. The frantumaglia was mysterious, it provoked mysterious actions, it was the source of all suffering not traceable to a single obvious cause. When she was no longer young, the frantumaglia woke her in the middle of the night, led her to talk to herself and then feel ashamed, suggested some indecipherable tune to sing under her breath that soon faded into a sigh, drove her suddenly out of the house, leaving the stove on, the sauce burning in the pot. Often it made her weep, and since childhood the word has stayed in my mind to describe, in particular, a sudden fit of weeping for no evident reason: frantumaglia tears.”

- Elena Ferrante, Frantumaglia: A Writer’s Journey

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„La smarginatura”

The thing was happening to her that I mentioned and that she later called dissolving margins. It was — she told me — as if, on the night of a full moon over the sea, the intense black mass of a storm advanced across the sky, swallowing every light, eroding the circumference of the moon’s circle, and disfiguring the shining disk, reducing it to its true nature of rough insensate material. Lila imagined, she saw, she felt — as if it were true — her brother break. Rino, before her eyes, lost the features he had had as long as she could remember, the features of the generous, candid boy, the pleasing features of the reliable young man, the beloved outline of one who, as far back as she had memory, had amused, helped, protected her. There, amid the violent explosions, in the cold, in the smoke that burned the nostrils and the strong odor of sulfur, something violated the organic structure of her brother, exercising over him a pressure so strong that it broke down his outlines, and the matter expanded like a magma, showing her what he was truly made of. Every second of that night of celebration horrified her, she had the impression that, as Rino moved, as he expanded around himself, every margin collapsed and her own margins, too, became softer and more yielding. She struggled to maintain control, and succeeded: on the outside her anguish hardly showed.

— My brilliant friend, s01e04 „Dissolving margins”, (dir. Saverio Costanzo) [photo]

— Elena Ferrante, My brilliant friend [quote]

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Elena Ferrante, In the Margins

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My Brilliant Friend  - Dissolving Boundaries “what are you doing?” “follow me”

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soon 🤍

Pula, Croatia (by Amirosso Grosso)

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Jennifer S. Cheng, So We Must Meet Apart; “August 24, 2018”

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📍Belgrade, 2k23

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a day in jevremovac 🪴

#botanical #photography #nikonphotography #journaling #belgrade #garden #plantlover

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ffs why am i crying?

birthday cake