#museums
Particle
The ornately embroidered phulkari is a shared tradition for women across Punjabi social classes and religions. Most of the works on display in “Phulkari: The Embroidered Textiles of Punjab from the Jill and Sheldon Bonovitz Collection” pre-date the devastating 1947 Partion of the Punjab region into modern day India and Pakistan. The religious division, mass migration, and loss of life leading up to and after the Partition forced many families to leave behind their treasured phulkaris. Despite such upheaval, phulkaris remain a significant symbol of Punjabi identity.
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This display in Ashmolean Museum shows how touching artwork affects material.
This is why museum staff get really upset when visitors touch stuff Please don’t touch the collection objects!
This is such a great way to do it, though! Don’t just tell people not to touch, show them exactly why they can’t.
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When you got up this morning the sun
Blazed an hour in the sky,
A lizard hid
Under curled leaves of manzanita
And winked it’s dark lids
Later, the sky grayed,
And the cold wind you breathed
Was moving under your skin and already far
From the small hives of your lungs
Wind
A star once looked me in the eye
From high above my window,
Murmuring
“The sky is gruesome,” it said
“How small you must feel.”
For all I can really do is
Stand here
In September’s rain
Savouring…
Soaking it all in
Slipping…
And simply
Holding on to poetry
For dear life
may the flowers remind us
why the rain was so necessary
- Xan Oku
I have gunpowder in my chest
Instead of a heart now,
And it escapes my lips
Shaped like a bullet
With your name on it
Some people become dangerous
When you destroy the things
They hold dearest.
Gunpowder Nikita Gill
I’ve spent a life
Chasing stories
To tell when I’m old.
Atticus
We shall meet in the place
Where there is no darkness
George Orwell, 1984
There is a beautiful thing inside you that is thousands of years old.
Too old to be captured in poems.
Too old to be loved by everyone.
But loved so very deeply
by a chosen few.
Old Souls
-Nikita Gill
the sound around me is too loud,
and my sweater is too thick;
i feel like i’m choking.
wool wraps around me like a noose.
my breath is laboured,
the air is stuffy, and brittle,
and suffocating,
I am Lost Without her Guidance.
The Woolen Noose
“You have to ration sympathy and grief in here the way you ration school supplies.”
-Naomi Novik, A Deadly Education
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –
There is no Frigate like a Book (1286)
-Emily Dickenson
Sometimes there is nothing that
needs to be written.
You are the poetry.
We are the words.
Mankind is the story.
-Raquel Franco
“To love oneself is the beginning of a life long romance.”
-Oscar Wilde
“Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a strange life.”
-Earnest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms.(1929)
“burn it all.”
dark academia x forestcore
“He is all art to me now.”
-Oscar Wilde
