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2020-05-24 04:02:04 +0000 UTC View Post
carolinecalloway posts
Since this is a smaller and, ahem, more intimate community t..
Since this is a smaller and, ahem, more intimate community than Instagram—I’d really like to get to know you guys better!!!! I’ll go first. I like to paint. And whether you buy me art supplies off of my Amazon Wish List OR NOT I’ll be naming some of my next paintings after you guys. One of the paintings in the first image is named Smitty ?
My Art Supplies Wish List: https://onlyfans.com/away?url=https://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/wishlist/32AMO7HYEVW4E/ref=cm_wl_huc_view
Refreshments are available for purchase in the lobby.
Refreshments are available for purchase in the lobby.
2020-05-24 03:23:55 +0000 UTC View Post“Having not quite reached her ~twenty-eighth~ birthday, Juli..
“Having not quite reached her ~twenty-eighth~ birthday, Juliet is of an age that stands on the border between immaturity and maturity. At the play’s beginning however she seems merely an obedient, sheltered, naïve ch*ld. Though many girls her age—including her mother—get married, Juliet has not given the subject any thought. When Lady Capulet mentions Paris’s interest in marrying Juliet, Juliet dutifully responds that she will try to see if she can love him, a response that seems ch*ldish in its obedience and in its immature conception of love. Juliet seems to have no friends her own age, and she is not comfortable talking about sex (as seen in her discomfort when the Nurse goes on and on about a sexual joke at Juliet’s expense in Act 1, scene 3).
Juliet gives glimpses of her determination, strength, and sober-mindedness, in her earliest scenes, and offers a preview of the woman she will become during the four-day span of Romeo and Juliet. While Lady Capulet proves unable to quiet the Nurse, Juliet succeeds with one word (also in Act 1, scene 3). In addition, even in Juliet’s dutiful acquiescence to try to love Paris, there is some seed of steely determination. Juliet promises to consider Paris as a possible husband to the precise degree her mother desires. While an outward show of obedience, such a statement can also be read as a refusal through passivity. Juliet will accede to her mother’s wishes, but she will not go out of her way to fall in love with Paris.
Juliet’s first meeting with Romeo propels her full-force toward adulthood. Though profoundly in love with him, Juliet is able to see and criticize Romeo’s rash decisions and his tendency to romanticize things. After Romeo kills Tybalt and is banished, Juliet does not follow him blindly. She makes a logical and heartfelt decision that her loyalty and love for Romeo must be her guiding priorities. Essentially, Juliet cuts herself loose from her prior social moorings—her nurse, her parents, and her social position in Verona—in order to try to reunite with Romeo. When she wakes in the tomb to find Romeo dead, she does not kill herself out of feminine weakness, but rather out of an intensity of love, just as Romeo did. Juliet’s suicide actually requires more nerve than Romeo’s: while he swallows poison, she stabs herself through the heart with a dagger.
Juliet’s development from a wide-eyed girl into a self-assured, loyal, and capable woman is one of Shakespeare’s early triumphs of characterization. It also marks one of his most confident and rounded treatments of a female character.“
—Sparknotes.com
You guys SAID you wanted more pussy pics......... This is wh..
You guys SAID you wanted more pussy pics......... This is what you meant, right?
2020-05-23 06:24:42 +0000 UTC View PostCan someone please come brush my hair out of the way? It’s r..
Can someone please come brush my hair out of the way? It’s ruining my artistic vision for Juliet.??♀️??♀️??♀️
2020-05-23 06:18:26 +0000 UTC View PostU know her OnlyFans vids are fire when they’re the same shit..
U know her OnlyFans vids are fire when they’re the same shit she texts her bf???✨
2020-05-22 03:55:22 +0000 UTC View PostChanging expressions behind my wings :)))) You guys asked f..
Changing expressions behind my wings :))))
You guys asked for videos and you will get them!???
Romeo. Romeo. Wherefore artboi Romeo. (I will never not thi..
Romeo. Romeo. Wherefore artboi Romeo.
(I will never not think this caption is funny)??
Next up: Juliet Capulet PART ONE (The Juliet photos turned o..
Next up: Juliet Capulet PART ONE
(The Juliet photos turned out so good I’m splitting them up into two parts ?)
“Partially based on Fitzgerald’s wife, Zelda, Daisy is a bea..
“Partially based on Fitzgerald’s wife, Zelda, Daisy is a beautiful y*ung woman from Louisville, Kentucky. She is Nick’s cousin and the object of Gatsby’s love. As a y*ung debutante in Louisville, Daisy was extremely popular among the military officers stationed near her home, including Jay Gatsby. Gatsby lied about his background to Daisy, claiming to be from a wealthy family in order to convince her that he was worthy of her. Eventually, Gatsby won Daisy’s heart, and they made love before Gatsby left to fight in the war. Daisy promised to wait for Gatsby, but in 1919 she chose instead to marry Tom Buchanan, a y*ung man from a solid, aristocratic family who could promise her a wealthy lifestyle and who had the support of her parents.
After 1919, Gatsby dedicated himself to winning Daisy back, making her the single goal of all of his dreams and the main motivation behind his acquisition of immense wealth through criminal activity. To Gatsby, Daisy represents the paragon of perfection—she has the aura of charm, wealth, sophistication, grace, and aristocracy that he longed for as a ch*ld in North Dakota and that first attracted him to her. In reality, however, Daisy falls far short of Gatsby’s ideals. She is beautiful and charming, but also fickle, shallow, bored, and sardonic. Nick characterizes her as a careless person who smashes things up and then retreats behind her money. Daisy proves her real nature when she chooses Tom over Gatsby in Chapter 7, then allows Gatsby to take the blame for killing Myrtle Wilson even though she herself was driving the car. Finally, rather than attend Gatsby’s funeral, Daisy and Tom move away, leaving no forwarding address.
Like Zelda Fitzgerald, Daisy is in love with money, ease, and material luxury. She is capable of affection (she seems genuinely fond of Nick and occasionally seems to love Gatsby sincerely), but not of sustained loyalty or care. She is indifferent even to her own inf*nt daughter, never discussing her and treating her as an afterthought when she is introduced in Chapter 7. In Fitzgerald’s conception of America in the 1920s, Daisy represents the amoral values of the aristocratic East Egg set.“
—Sparknotes.com
Emeralds are what Daisy would have wanted for these posts.
Emeralds are what Daisy would have wanted for these posts.
2020-05-20 21:34:27 +0000 UTC View PostI was really proud of my Daisy Buchanan costume ☺️ I waited ..
I was really proud of my Daisy Buchanan costume ☺️
I waited three weeks for this sheer 1920’s flapper dress with embroidered daisies to arrive from England and I borrowed my grandma’s emerald earrings, also from 1920’s and also in the shape of daisies (shhhhh don’t tell on me)
Dagny, about to DESTROY your company and take you for every ..
Dagny, about to DESTROY your company and take you for every penny you're worth ⚙️????
(Or Kim Jung Un idk)
when you’re proud of your buns so you post them on the inter..
when you’re proud of your buns so you post them on the internet
2020-05-15 05:00:38 +0000 UTC View Post“Dagny is the heroine and primary narrator of the story. Her..
“Dagny is the heroine and primary narrator of the story. Her great stature comes from the combination of characteristics that she possesses. Her knowledge of engineering and industry enables her to expertly run a transcontinental railroad. Her understanding of physics allows her to identify the virtues of Rearden Metal. The independence of her judgment lets her stand by the metal and her railroad in the face of virtually unanimous social opposition. Her dauntless determination drives her to build the John Galt Line. The qualities that make Dagny a towering character are the same qualities that make real-life individuals such as the scientist Marie Curie and the innovative educator Maria Montessori great heroines. Like these women, Dagny has an unswerving dedication to truth, regardless of social opinion. The dedication to truth supports her ability to discover new knowledge and create new products.
The same attributes that make Dagny great also make John Galt great — and Aristotle, Michangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Isaac Newton. Rand dramatizes a crucial point in Dagny's character: Human greatness equals rational achievement irrespective of gender. Great human beings employ their intellectual ability to create the values on which human life depends. Stature of character is not gender-specific.
A reader may question why Rand portrays Dagny as an engineer — as a genius specifically in the field of heavy industry. If Rand's purpose is to portray a woman's intellectual prowess — to show that a gender-based difference between a woman's cognitive functioning and a man's doesn't exist — why not present her as a great writer, mathematician, theoretical scientist, composer, or artist? Why does she portray her as a brilliantly creative industrialist? In addition to the relevant plot considerations, Dagny's career path makes a philosophical point: If intellect is more life-giving than brawn, then women can run machinery, create new physical products, invent, innovate, oversee heavy industry, raise the material standard of living, and so on. The human intellect, regardless of gender, shapes the physical environment in order to me*et human survival requirements. Ayn Rand doesn't believe that faith can move mountains. However, in the character of Dagny Taggart, Rand shows that a rational woman can create and deploy the technology to move mountains just as effectively as a rational man.
Like Galt, Dagny is much more than a pure intellect. Her emotional life is equally as intense as Galt's, and for the same reason. The men of the mind value man's life on earth; they love the industry, technology, and science that promote life. They feel enormous admiration and attraction for the giants among mankind who are responsible for progress. This admiration and attraction is why Dagny falls to her hands and knees, dirty and disheveled, shaking with excitement and screaming for Rearden, when she realizes the nature of the abandoned scrap of a motor she finds in a junk pile. This same admiration and attraction is why her body aches with a desire for Galt that verges on physical pain when she is in his home in the valley, and is why she races desperately back to New York when she hears the news of the Taggart Tunnel disaster. Dagny has committed mind, body, and soul to man's life on earth — and to the achievements and achievers that make life on earth possible.”
—Cliffnotes.com
“Basically what we have here is a dreamer. Somebody out of t..
“Basically what we have here is a dreamer. Somebody out of touch with reality. When she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly.”
—The Virgin Suicides
Lux Lisbon down to fuck after class
Lux Lisbon down to fuck after class
2020-05-13 04:46:36 +0000 UTC View PostThe other half of the yellow bow outfit ?
The other half of the yellow bow outfit ?
2020-05-13 02:52:47 +0000 UTC View Post
Which literary heroines do you want to see next?
Which literary heroines do you want to see next?
2020-05-12 01:33:11 +0000 UTC View PostUp next: Lux Lisbon from the Virgin Suicides
Up next: Lux Lisbon from the Virgin Suicides
2020-05-12 00:34:43 +0000 UTC View PostThe ice-skating scene during the Great Frost with the “feral..
The ice-skating scene during the Great Frost with the “feral” Russian princess Sasha is my favorite part of the Sally Potter Orlando film. What’s yours?
2020-05-12 00:13:06 +0000 UTC View Post"The Great Frost was, historians tell us, the most severe th..
"The Great Frost was, historians tell us, the most severe that has ever visited these islands. Birds froze in mid-air and fell like stones to the ground. At Norwich a y*ung countrywoman started to cross the road in her usual robust health and was seen by the onlookers to turn visibly to powder and be blown in a puff of dust over the roofs as the icy blast struck her at the street corner. The mortality among sheep and cattle was enormous. Corpses froze and could not be drawn from the sheets. It was no uncommon sight to come upon a whole herd of swine frozen immovable upon the road. The fields were full of shepherds, ploughmen, teams of horses, and little bird-scaring boys all struck stark in the act of the moment, one with his hand to his nose, another with the bottle to his lips, a third with a stone raised to throw at the ravens who sat, as if stuffed, upon the hedge within a yard of him. The severity of the frost was so extraordinary that a kind of petrifaction sometimes ensued; and it was commonly supposed that the great increase of rocks in some parts of Derbyshire was due to no eruption, for there was none, but to the solidification of unfortunate wayfarers who had been turned literally to stone where they stood. The Church could give little help in the matter, and though some landowners had these relics blessed, the most part preferred to use them either as landmarks, scratching-posts for sheep, or, when the form of the stone allowed, dr*nking troughs for cattle, which purposes they serve, admirably for the most part, to this day.
But while the country people suffered the extremity of want, and the trade of the country was at a standstill, London enjoyed a carnival of the utmost brilliancy. The Court was at Greenwich, and the new King seized the opportunity that his coronation gave him to curry favour with the citizens. He directed that the river, which was frozen to a depth of twenty feet and more for six or seven miles on either side, should be swept, decorated and given all the semblance of a park or pleasure ground, with arbours, mazes, alleys, dr*nking booths, etc. at his expense. For himself and the courtiers, he reserved a certain space immediately opposite the Palace gates; which, railed off from the public only by a silken rope, became at once the centre of the most brilliant society in England. Great statesmen, in their beards and ruffs, despatched affairs of state under the crimson awning of the Royal Pagoda. Soldiers planned the conquest of the Moor and the downfall of the Turk in striped arbours surmounted by plumes of ostrich feathers. Admirals strode up and down the narrow pathways, glass in hand, sweeping the horizon and telling stories of the north-west passage and the Spanish Armada. Lovers dallied upon divans spread with sables. Frozen roses fell in showers when the Queen and her ladies walked abroad. Coloured balloons hovered motionless in the air. Here and there burnt vast bonfires of cedar and oak wood, lavishly salted, so that the flames were of green, orange, and purple fire. But however fiercely they burnt, the heat was not enough to melt the ice which, though of singular transparency, was yet of the hardness of steel. So clear indeed was it that there could be seen, congealed at a depth of several feet, here a porpoise, there a flounder. Shoals of eels lay motionless in a trance, but whether their state was one of death or merely of suspended animation which the warmth would revive puzzled the philosophers. Near London Bridge, where the river had frozen to a depth of some twenty fathoms, a wrecked wherry boat was plainly visible, lying on the bed of the river where it had sunk last autumn, overladen with apples. The old bumboat woman, who was carrying her fruit to market on the Surrey side, sat there in her plaids and farthingales with her lap full of apples, for all the world as if she were about to serve a customer, though a certain blueness about the lips hinted the truth. ‘Twas a sight King James specially liked to look upon, and he would bring a troupe of courtiers to gaze with him. In short, nothing could exceed the brilliancy and gaiety of the scene by day. But it was at night that the carnival was at its merriest. For the frost continued unbroken; the nights were of perfect stillness; the moon and stars blazed with the hard fixity of diamonds, and to the fine music of flute and trumpet the courtiers danced.
Orlando, it is true, was none of those who tread lightly the corantoe and lavolta; he was clumsy and a little absentminded. He much preferred the plain dances of his own country, which he danced as a ch*ld to these fantastic foreign measures. He had indeed just brought his feet together about six in the evening of the seventh of January at the finish of some such quadrille or minuet when he beheld, coming from the pavilion of the Muscovite Embassy, a figure, which, whether boy’s or woman’s, for the loose tunic and trousers of the Russian fashion served to disguise the sex, filled him with the highest curiosity. The person, whatever the name or sex, was about middle height, very slenderly fashioned, and dressed entirely in oyster-coloured velvet, trimmed with some unfamiliar greenish-coloured fur. But these details were obscured by the extraordinary seductiveness which issued from the whole person. Images, metaphors of the most extreme and extravagant twined and twisted in his mind. He called her a melon, a pineapple, an olive tree, an emerald, and a fox in the snow all in the space of three seconds; he did not know whether he had heard her, tasted her, seen her, or all three together. (For though we must pause not a moment in the narrative we may here hastily note that all his images at this time were simple in the extreme to match his senses and were mostly taken from things he had liked the taste of as a boy. But if his senses were simple they were at the same time extremely strong. To pause therefore and seek the reasons of things is out of the question.)… A melon, an emerald, a fox in the snow–so he raved, so he stared. When the boy, for alas, a boy it must be–no woman could skate with such speed and vigour—swept almost on tiptoe past him, Orlando was ready to tear his hair with vexation that the person was of his own sex, and thus all embraces were out of the question. But the skater came closer. Legs, hands, carriage, were a boy’s, but no boy ever had a mouth like that; no boy had those breasts; no boy had eyes which looked as if they had been fished from the bottom of the sea. Finally, coming to a stop and sweeping a curtsey with the utmost grace to the King, who was shuffling past on the arm of some Lord-in-waiting, the unknown skater came to a standstill. She was not a handsbreadth off. She was a woman. Orlando stared; trembled; turned hot; turned cold; longed to hurl himself through the summer air; to crush acorns beneath his feet; to toss his arm with the beech trees and the oaks. As it was, he drew his lips up over his small white teeth; opened them perhaps half an inch as if to bite; shut them as if he had bitten. The Lady Euphrosyne hung upon his arm.
The stranger’s name, he found, was the Princess Marousha Stanilovska Dagmar Natasha Iliana Romanovitch, and she had come in the train of the Muscovite Ambassador, who was her uncle perhaps, or perhaps her father, to attend the coronation. Very little was known of the Muscovites. In their great beards and furred hats they sat almost silent; dr*nking some black liquid which they spat out now and then upon the ice. None spoke English, and French with which some at least were familiar was then little spoken at the English Court."
—Orlando by Virginia Woolf