#dissertating

[therepublicofletters]

What you think archival research will be: immediate amazing discoveries about exactly what you’re working on

What archival research actually is: well now I want to know about all of the socks that the Archbishop of Florence sent to the Pope in 1512.

#cosimo de pazzi really did that #dissertating #phd #she goes to the courtauld #phdblr #gradblr #archive posting

[latinthusiast]

brick by brick

#dissertating #200ish words today #grad school

[academicspider]

physically, i am trying to write a dissertation proposal. mentally, i am in italy with andrew garfield.

#andrew garfield #dissertating #m speaks

[thescrcservices]

Don't go it alone! Our Ph.D. thesis advisors can help you structure, organize, and refine your research.

Contact us: 6268991983

Mail us: [email protected]

Visit: https://thescrc.org

#cosimo de pazzi really did that #dissertating #phd #she goes to the courtauld #phdblr #gradblr #archive posting

[my-heart-of-heart]

So normal about Jon being like I don’t remember what you looked like but the man who let you die is going to suffer for what he did to you. If only Sasha coulda seen that.

So normal about Jon being like you died hating me and wanting me dead but I’m still gonna make sure this man knows I’m ending him in your name. Sure wish Tim coulda seen that.

So normal about the fact that everyone believed Jon was losing his humanity but no one got to see the ways his love and compassion for the people he lost or who hurt him drove him to that final moment.

So normal about the fact that even after everything Jonah’s done to Jon, the only person he never thinks to get justice for is himself.

#same energy as Jon diving into the buried to save the woman who tried to kill him #for all his flaws Jon’s a good person at his core #he just wholeheartedly believes he deserves to be hated so he never even tries to explain himself #analysis #istg every time I post one of these I get closer to writing a full dissertation on this guy #tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #jonathan sims #tim stoker #tma 200 #sasha james #jonah magnus

[marbrnv]

Writer's block

or is it?

I just can't do it. I can't. I know exactly what to write, I have made extensive notes, I have every aspect covered, but I can't put it into fucking words, let alone coherent sentences that make sense together and deliver the point. I just can't. I'm sitting here and I want to scream. And cry. And punch something.

At the same time, I can't NOT write it. It's been way too long, my advisors are waiting for this goddamn chapter. A month ago I told them I'm wrapping it up, I have the bulk written, but there are a few sections that I really struggle with. Yeah, ok, not untrue. I don't know why I struggle with them, those aren't even my own research sections - just context analysis based on the scholarship that's already there. Why is this so difficult? How can I feel like I know what to write, but at the same time like I don't have a faintest idea?

I thought to myself, ok, it's just a minor section, write it like a usual course paper, 2-3 thousand words, I've done that a hundred times, piece of cake. I didn't care if it made perfect sense, I just had to write it, so I did. I didn't frankly care about the grade that I'd get - at a doctoral level you need to really mess up to produce a B quality paper. We know our shit at that point. And even if it's not great, in the end it always does make sense. But now when it's my dissertation (god, that damn word!), I feel like the same total amateur undergrad with the only difference being that back then I did not have the awareness of being an amateur. When you're 20, every word you write seems like a stroke of genius to you. At least it did to me; but judging by 99.5 percent of my students, this is not uncommon. And you savor it - even if years down the road you shrug at the thought that you could write something so stupid.

In some less grave cases, giving it a little cry helps. This is only partly a joke. But in situations like this one today, not even tears come out. Total and complete paralysis. Texted my phd-student friends from my program to ask if this is what experience sometimes, too. Their answers were king of vague. Yes, no, not the same way.

That made me realize how little we, the grad students, share about the actual pain of doing what we do. The constant, excruciating self-doubt, very often no or very little support because nobody can really relate, especially if your family and friends have nothing to do with academia (my case), and especially if you come from abroad (also my case; don't even get me started on writing as an esl). Nobody takes you seriously, you're just an overgrown student, you don't really make a living (even though I think it's wild that we get paid anything at all for just reading a bunch of obscure stuff and writing some even more obscure stuff for 5-6-7 years). You're kind of at the very bottom. Nobody says it like that, but it does very much feel like it. Not the greatest motivator.

And among ourselves, we kind of play it cool, don't we. We joke and complain about the "hard" things - getting grants, doing research in archives around the world, connecting the dots of our narrative, editing - but not that. Not the fact that most of the time you feel like a child that was left alone in a crowded place, not knowing how they got there or how to get home. Standing there, holding a stupid pink cotton candy in one hand and thinking this is it, now you live on the streets.

Jesus Christ, will this ever get easier.

#phd #dissertating #writing #writers block #doctorate

[weepingwitheredwillows]

#curious how the absolutely massive dissertations in my notes ab supporting artists dont even bother to like a single drawing. curious #tired of this post getting 100+ notes a day while my art gets 0. shut the fuck up

[akajustmerry]

She cried for other reasons too — that the “Succession” chapter of her life has ended. “I’ll never have an opportunity to speak those lines, or get given new lines, new jokes, new worlds for Shiv and Roman to exist in together,” Snook says. “Just sadness for never getting a moment to play with these brilliant actors again.” (When I tell her that Culkin had said to me that perhaps Shiv and Roman might make up at some point, Snook brightens. “I feel like Shiv and Roman would reconcile in a way where he would be the shitty but great weird uncle for her kid, and there might be some sort of strange little family unit that gets splintered off.”) - Sarah Snook, Variety.

Kieran Culkin as Roman Roy and Sarah Snook as Shiv Roy | Succession (2018-2023)

#successionedit #sarah snook #kieran culkin #roman roy #shiv roy #succession #tv #could write a dissertation on how i feel about roman and shiv but it would just be an essay on why i love my brother (and hate him lol) #/

[dekariosclan]

Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

#Please enjoy this huge dissertation about Gale #(which was unintentional) #I originally wanted to talk briefly—BRIEFLY—about why the weave scene is so important to him #And then I….kept writing lol #Please also note that while this focuses on successfully channeling the weave I also LOVE the talk you have with him if you ‘failed’ it! #The same themes apply there because when you tell Gale you still think about being alone together he replies that he hopes to embrace you #It’s all about Gale finally finding someone who appreciates him just as he is and being able to connect with them #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #bg3

[therepublicofletters]

26.10.23 || Having a caffeine-induced archive high from the tiramisù I had at dinner, hoping it lasts me the next three years

#i honestly had such a good day in the archive today it was very refreshing #this doc above ^ was cool because it referenced a statue that we actually know #which is the bust of maestro giovanni chellini by antonio rossellino #and i didn't realise that the pazzi owned it in the 19th century which is super funky #archive posting #phdblr #gradblr #dissertating #also if anyone has recs for milan i am here for another four days two of which will be free

[churchrummagesale]

October 2020

#i'm back everyone!! sorry i was writing my dissertation whew #35mm #north carolina

[heynhay]

merry Christmas klancers 🎅

#I did the whole happy holidays art and I was like yayyyy I’m done I did my Xmas art #but um everyone looked like they were having so much fun w Xmas klance doodles I had to get in #klance #Voltron #vld #art #my art #Keith kogane #Lance McClain #I scheduled this at 2am but now it’s out im no longer abt to pass out I can dissertate in the tags #anyway I think they’d both be pretty awful cooks #like realistically a klance cookie making situation would be like #both of them oversold their cookie making skills and ended up in a contest (hunks the judge) for who could make them best #but they’d both suck. burnt salty raw awful etc etc #and they’d be beefing so hard like they’d take it so seriously #but for the sake of me wanting to draw cute Xmas art #let’s just say Lance is the slightly less horrendous cook and can make some cookies #there is no world I can reconcile Keith with the kitchen #I just know that boy feeds off instant noodles and unseasoned jerky

[plangentia]

postcards from ancient corinth

#corinth #greece #my photography #temple of apollo #my dissertation!! #ruins 🏛️

[tiffanyachings]

thesis defence

#ok let's try this again #for the record i drew this before getting my dissertation results that's just a happy coincidence #the locked tomb #palamedes sextus #camilla hect #* #field sketches #fully committing to the noodle arms for cam looked wrong i had to give her some abs

[shrimpfriedeggs]

touhouvania designs are such eye candy

#yuyuko saigyouji #marisa kirisame #touhou #touhouvania #koumajou densetsu #東方project #my art #OK I need to stop drawing #i need to study and work on my dissertation arghh

[oatflatwhite]

"merlin has bad cgi" "the characterisation in merlin is bad" "merlin has so many plot holes" shut up. bbc merlin was the perfect show to watch on sunday nights at 6.30pm between the ages of 10 to 14. the girls (gender neutral) who get it get it and the girls (gender neutral) who don't don't.

#liz.txt #merlin #bbc merlin #there are so many fucking tiktok dissertations and deep dives and rewrites like on god calm down please #just like... enjoy the show as it is. it is wonderful.