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#rilke my love
metamorphesque · 2 years
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to live for love, to die for love
The Lovers of Valdaro, Franz Kafka, My Liberation Notes (gizkasparadise), The Lark Farm, Rainer Maria Rilke, Monumento Moroni Scarneo,  Monumento Rossi
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sublime-acceptance · 8 months
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small loves
frank o'hara, "steps" | thomas campion, "follow your saint" | weegee "[lovers on a park bench]" (c. 1940s) | rainer maria rilke, "the book of poverty and death III.1" | brassaï, "couple d'amoureux dans un petit café, quartier italie" (c. 1932) | margaret atwood, "variation on the word sleep"
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greenerteacups · 3 months
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Hi! I am an ardent fan of your writing, and I hope to be as sorted and planned as you some day in my own writing journey.
My question is: you have a keen eye when it comes to planning character personality, dynamics, and such. I've also been wading through your ask replies, and your insights into how you write people and how you make them play off of each other is so wonderful to read. If it's not too personal a q, how did you learn how to write like this? Did you go to school for writing, does it come from years of observing people, do you have reading list recs for "how to write real people and real interactions"?
Thanks! This is a really flattering question. I'll try to answer it honestly, because I wish someone had been brutally honest about this with me when I was a young writer.
I didn't go to school for writing. I started doing it when I was about nine years old. It sucked very badly. I kept writing throughout high school, and it still mostly sucked, but some of it was occasionally interesting. ("Interesting" here does not mean "good," by the way.) I took a break in college, and then came back. I've been writing ever since. Sometimes, I feel good about it. A lot of the time, I don't!
I hate giving this advice, because I remember how it feels to get it, and it's the most uninspiring, boring-ass, dog shit advice you can get, but it's also the only advice that is 100% unequivocally true: you have to write, and specifically, you have to write things that suck.
I do not mean that you should make things that suck on purpose. I mean that you have to sit down and try your absolute hardest to make something good. You have to put in the hours, the elbow grease, the blood, sweat, and tears, and then you have to read it over and accept that it just totally sucks. There is no way around this, and you should be wary of people who tell you there is. There is no trick, no rule, no book you can buy or article you can read, that will make your writing not suck. The best someone else can do is tell you what good writing looks like, and chances are, you knew that anyway — after all, you love to read. You wouldn't be trying to do this if you didn't. And anyone who says they can teach you to write so good it doesn't suck at first is either lying to you, or they have forgotten how they learned to write in the first place.
So the trick is to sit there in the miserable doldrums of Suck, write a ton, and learn to like it. Because this is the phase of your path as an artist when you find what it is you love about writing, and it cannot be the chance to make "good writing." This will be the thing that bears you through and compels you to keep going when your writing is shit, i.e., the very thing that makes you a writer in the first place. So find that, and you've got a good start.
Some people know this, but assume that perseverance as a writer is about trying to get to the point where you don't suck anymore. This is not true, and it is an actively dangerous lie to tell young writers. You are not aiming to feel like your writing doesn't suck. You are aiming to write. You are aiming to have written. Everything else is dust and rust. And of course, you'll find things you like about your pieces, you'll find things you're proud of, you'll learn to love the things you've made. But that little itch of self-criticism, in the back of your brain — the one that cringes when you read a clunky line, or thinks of a better character beat right after it's far too late to change — that's never going away. That's the Writer part of you. Read Kafka, read Dickens, read Tolstoy, you will find diary entries where they lament how absolutely fucking atrocious their writing was, and how angry they are that they can't do better. A good writer hates their sentences because they can always imagine better ones. And the ability to imagine a better sentence is what's going to make you pick up the pen again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.
Which is what I mean, and probably what all those other annoying, preachy advice-givers mean, when we say: a good writer is just someone who writes every day. It's that easy, and that hard.
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llovelymoonn · 1 year
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(i’m obsessed with you)
rainer maria rilke book of hours: love poems to god: “extinguish my eyes, i’ll go on seeing you” (tr. anita barrows & joanna macy) (via @derangedrhythms​) \\ anna akhamtova the complete poems of anna akhmatova: uncollected poems and fragments 1957-1966 \\ anna akhmatova poem without a hero and selected poems: “to alexander blok” (tr. lenore mayhew & william mcnaughton) (via @feral-ballad​)
buy me a chai latte
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plutosrobin · 22 days
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hear me out…
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symphonyinc · 5 months
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Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
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randomcanbian · 2 years
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THE WILDS || THE UNSINKABLE EIGHT ↳ (insp.)
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hiramstolowitski · 2 years
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i’m sorry the dandelion scene is still so funny to me. your best friend is completely catatonic from trauma, you’re at the end of your rope trying to find a way to help her in a place with no medical resources, and this girl you’re stuck with whose sanity is cracking like a plastic plate in the dishwasher and is just generally going around pushing everyone to their breaking point decides to help by blowing a dandelion in your face. i’d probably snap too honestly
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many-sparrows · 9 months
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"I find you there in all these things I care for like a brother. A seed, you nestle in the smallest of them, and in the huge ones spread yourself hugely. Such is the amazing play of the powers: they give themselves so willingly, swelling in the roots, thinning as the trunks rise, and in the high leaves, resurrection"
— Ranier Marie Rilke, The Book of Monastic Life poem 22, from The Book of Hours
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jacksintention · 10 months
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Still unwell about Rilke and PH
I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.
Then the knowing comes: I can open
to another life that's wide and timeless.
So I am sometimes like a tree
rustling over a gravesite
and making real the dream
of the one its living roots
embrace:
a dream once lost
among sorrows and songs.
#There's in Rilke and especially in this particular book a lot about the world‚ created in the beholding and loving it‚#and one existing to love the world. There's so much about the world being created by that loving and knowing the world of one individual#person that loves and knows it. A kind of feedback loop of existing and being by love and knowledge that is all a participation#on the act of creation. The person coming to exist to love and know the world‚ and creating the world by loving and beholding it#This is also present on Juan Ramón Jiménez‚ among others‚ but 5 yo me was obsessed with those poems. ANYWAY#This topic made me think of Lacie a lot but in this particular poem that topic + the 'I'm sorry' scene + the figure of Lacie beyond Lacie‚#a Lacie that's legend and real‚ a Lacie always sitting under a tree‚ life ending and life expanding so to speak‚...#That kind of knowing it all in a glimpse that is knowing in an instant and eternal (which again reminds me of Kierkegaard‚#fitting I'd say with Rilke). I'm explaining myself terribly but I don't want to talk too much haha But yeah it all seemed very fitting#There was another poem about spiralling so to speak around god that I also thought was very Lacie but very PH in general#('I live my life in widening circles / that reach out across the world. / I may not complete this last one / but I give myself to it /#I circle around God‚ around the primordial tower. / I've been circling for thousands of years / and I still don't know: am I a falcon‚ /#a storm or a great song?'). The spiralling around god in what is still some sort of emanence or reflection of it while being also#different iterations of the self which all reflect it also reminded me a lot of Cantor's transfinite numbers#Which again is quite fitting and coherent with the other authors and PH imo‚ but I may be biased. Anyway yes. This reminded me of Lacie#I didn't plan on drawing anything at first and now I have to flinch to read the poem#I hope I'll recognise enough of what I've written when I eventually come back to this#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#mine*
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soulwithbody · 4 months
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RIP rilke, you would’ve loved mitski
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paragon-of-anxiety · 2 years
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OBSESSED with the way Leah has to lean down to hug Fatin
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i-translated · 5 months
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I translated "Der Panther" by Rainer Maria Rilke into Russian
Requested and courteously translated into English for me by my good friend @girl-named-cock. Thank you!
As with all my translations, this one is fully rhymed and rhythmic, meaning you can recite it like the original text.
"Пантера" В Jardin des Plantes, Париж
Решётки сквозь пестрящие лоскутья Её усталый взгляд безмерно пуст. Ей кажется, здесь сотни тысяч прутьев, И мир вокруг - их проволочный куст.
В её походке грация и крепость, Её шаги в предельной тесноте Кружатся в танце гордо и свирепо, И дух её не сломлен, лишь смятен.
Лишь иногда сквозь мутную завесу Её зрачков картина тронет гладь, По телу пробежит, достигнет сердца, И прекратит существовать.
***
Please keep in mind that I do not accept constructive criticism. I'm sure someone might have better ideas for certain lines or rhymes, however, self-improvement is not the purpose of this blog. With all due respect, be kind or be quiet. Thank you.
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emilypretissesbitch · 2 years
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you know i used to not be a leatin stan, i just didn’t see it as much as everyone else. but now?… I WOULD RISK IT ALL FOR THEM. in a season full of adorable shoni moments all i could focus on was any scene with fatin and/or leah. give me season 3, give me leatin canon. thank you
(also please recommend some leatin fics because i’m actually in love)
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amplifyme · 5 months
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@randomfoggytiger Just saw your ask and your thoughts on the final chapters. But I'm currently brain-dead and need some time to process and respond. Until then, I want to share this with you. I think you'll know why...
youtube
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thebirdandhersong · 1 year
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songbird's season of general sadness/first real grief/sorrow is coming to an end: (in chronological/journeying order) songs and poetry that helped my heart a lot these past few months :)
Always Good, Andrew Peterson / Marjorie, Andrew Osenga / Ask Polly article I read on a whim: 'My Boyfriend Refuses to Change' / You're On Your Own, Kid, Taylor Swift / One Foot in Front of the Other, Griff / Heavy, Mary Oliver / Monday by @madamescarlette / The Letter, Linda Gregg / Summer's Retrospective by @madamescarlette / Ode to Some Lyric Poets, Gregory Orr
(bonus--from the scraps of writing that came out of this chapter of life, which are slowly being assembled into a more coherent story:)
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#yknow i felt so alone at so many points but i really really wasn't#i had such good friends (here and in my church community) who held my hand so gently#and God used the things i understood best to show me His incredible love at just the right moments#still an ongoing journey but i am so so grateful for the secondhand heart-strength given to me and the tenderness that was extended when i#when i was really at my lowest and saddest and most oversensitive and easily provoked to impatience or anger or depressive spirals#anyway i can't remember who sent me marjorie but thank you so much for that it was such a comfort. it continues to be#and thank you eden for sharing your beautiful poetry!!!! it continues to refresh and encourage my soul#mmmm it's hard to put into words what everything (and by everything i mean: the songs here and on my playlists#and the poetry here and the books i've read during the summer and into the autumn#from cyrano de bergerac to tolstoy to rilke's poems and dorothy sayers and dostoevsky and st therese & st teresa and madeleine l'engle#not to mention the night walks and morning prayers and the wonderful times i've had with the other dorm girls!#suddenly quite overwhelmed by the abundance of love and blessing#immensely immensely grateful for everything. i can be such a little wretch sometimes and wallow awfully for days#or act like a little human machine and try to Rid Myself of all emotional surges. or just focus on all the negative things with astonishing#tunnel vision (you wouldn't BELIEVE). but God has been so gracious despite songbird being a silly goose#and every once in a while having mental breakdowns and having to learn the same lesson (surrender and humility) a bajillion times#anyway!! my heart doesn't hurt anymore!!#and i am learning to take it one day at a time and to Rejoice in all circumstances#slings and arrows of outrageous fortune in year 21#which really is so much harder than i thought at times!!!! but that makes it even more important to do so i think
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