The truth about Smurfs

(via quelvelasque)

(via quelvelasque)

BEING DEVOTED (what I found at the V & A shop)

1) My ”kind” is Jesus. If there isn’t any, I’m ok with blond curly tall smart talented creative rich (young) painter.

2) Difficult to say, Jesus. Difficult to say, BCTCTCEYP.

3)White tunic. White tunic.

4) Think I can wear white tunic for the rest of my life.

5)With Jesus should be partying every night, he knows how multiplying loaves, fishes, and wine. With the Painter is finished. I prefer Jesus.

6)ok, feasible.

7)Yet - a white tunic.

8) I have several white tunics, I swear, I’ll be  wearing them for the rest of my life, without any deceipt.

Le poète  (The poet)

L’art, l’art, que belle chose que cette vanité!!

S’il y a sur la terre et parmi tous les néants une croyance qu’on adore, s’il est quelque chose de saint, de pur, de sublime, quelque chose qui aille à ce désir immodéré de l’infini et du vague que nous appelons âme, c’est l’art. Et quelle petitesse ! une pierre, un mot, un son, la disposition de tout cela que nous appelons le sublime. Je voudrais quelque chose qui n’eût pas besoin d’expression ni de forme, quelque chose de pur comme un parfum, de fort comme la pierre, d’insaisissable comme un chant, que ce fût à la fois tout cela et rien d’aucune de ces choses. Tout me semble borné, rétréci, avorté dans la nature. L’homme, avec son génie et son art, n’est qu’un misérable singe de quelque chose de plus élevé.

Je voudrais le beau dans l’infini, et je n’y trouve que le doute.

G. Flaubert, Mémoires d’un fou, 1838

FASHION WEEK IN LONDON

Unfortunately Fashion week is ruling, and we have to recover some traditional learning.

As far as we got the fact that shoes don’t necessarily have to match with bags, it’s also true that we have to put some boundaries.

If your bag is leopard -which is actually Dolce e Gabbana - and your shoes are velvet blue heels. It’s too much. Even for a non-style blogger as I am.

English Classes (free)

In much more than nine cases out of ten the only objectively truthful criticism would be “This book is worthless”, while the truth about the reviewer’s own reaction would probably be “This book does not interest me in any way, and I would not write about it unless I were paid to”.

George Orwell, Confessions of a Book Reviewer

A WRITER (trying to not have any gay friends)

In a cold but stuffy bed-sitting room littered with cigarette ends and half-empty cups of tea, a man  in a month-eaten dressing-gown sits at rickety table, trying to find room for his typewriter among the piles of dusty papers that surround it. He cannot throw the papers away because the wastepaper basket is already overflowing, and besides, somewhere among the unanswered letters and unpaid bills it is possible that there is a cheque for two guineas which he is nearly certain he forgot to pay into the bank. There are also letters wth addresses which ought to be entered in his address book. He has lost his address book, and the thought of looking for it, or indeed of looking anything, afflicts him with acute suicidal impulses. (…)Needless to say this person is a writer. He might be a poet, a novelist, or a writer of film scripts or radio features, for all literary people are very much alike, but let us say he is a book reviewer.

George Orwell, Confessions of a Book Reviewer

# OPENING A BANK ACCOUNT (LONDON)

“So, Olga, what are you going to study, Fashion?”

“No, I’m studying  Social Media”

“It sounds pretty different. But you look so fashionable!!!”

“well, you got the reason why I’m not studying something which actually I don’t need to learn”

#manythankstoparrucchierediViaCanonicaMillano