#theo decker
ever look at a piece of art and think of how a simple picture, painting, music, or book transcend time. For it to live through generations of generations, era after era, and yet, here it stays, alive and beating. as it captured the hearts of many before, now it beguiles us with the same intensity, even bringing us to tears, knowing that behind each stroke, note, and word is another person’s soul laid bare. gazing in the depths of the Art, we reconcile with the ghost of its creator, drifting and immortal. in a simple glimpse, we became a part of the undying
I’m tryna become one of Donna Tartt’s characters. I mean I’m already gay and my life is already in a downward spiral, so now I just need is the aesthetic™…
THE GOLDFINCH
I’ve recently finished The Goldfinch and actually forgot to talk about it. On contrary to other books I’ve posted about (tsh, tsoa) this one didn’t give me much to think about. I didn’t feel much after finishing it.
I liked it, it just wasn’t as great as I was expecting it to be. I was surprised when I found out that Boris took the painting but that was actually the peak of emotions in that book.
Till the last page I was waiting for something to move me. And it didn’t. Don’t get me wrong I enjoyed the plot and the characters. It just wasn’t “it”.
What made me cry was that I read over 800 pages and did not feel like my life shifted even a bit.
every time i drive through the city where you’re from i squeeze a little
all i want for christmas is someone who will take me to a library and let me stare at books for hours