queer poet and visual artist. @leromanovs on insta
Humming What I Don’t Understand
“I am like a young girl in love with Mozart and must have him placed highest whatever the cost… I shall beg Mozart to forgive me because his music did not inspire me to great deeds but made a fool of me — I, who through him lost the last grain of reason I possessed, and now spend most of my time in quiet sadness humming what I do not understand, haunting like a ghost what I cannot enter into… To take him away, to efface his name, would be to overturn the only pillar that hitherto has prevented everything collapsing for me into a boundless chaos, into a fearful nothingness”.
Egon Schiele and the Art of Going Insane
So there is this painting, which you are maybe familiar with entitled, Seated Woman with Legs Drawn Up. Austrian artist and Gustav Klimt protégé, Egon Schiele painted it in 1917, two years after he had married one Edith Harms. Edith was, by all accounts, a perfectly charming woman with a perfectly respectable middle-class background. However, the sitter for Seated Woman with Legs Drawn Up is decidedly not Edith.
I’m the Madwoman Locked up in the Attic of Your Favorite Gothic Novel, and I Actually Don’t Really Mind It Up Here
“What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight, tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.”
Despite Creating Entire Fantasy World in Her Head, Author Cannot Wrap her Mind around the Idea that Trans Women Are Women
J.K. Rowling, known primarily for her authorship of the wildly popular Harry Potter series, is reportedly continuing to defend trans-exclusionary feminist perspectives in recent posts and interviews. Despite backlash from various organizations and individuals citing concerns for trans youth who might be impacted by her commentary, the author (ironically also sometimes known as Robert Galbraith), has decided to stick to her guns.
Confessions of a Second-Hand Psychonaut
I’ve never done any illicit drugs, although I’ve come close. Once when I was nineteen, a girlfriend begged me to smoke with her, and so I put my mouth around a strawberry flavored joint, ready to experience any sort of high. But I couldn’t bring myself to light the damn thing. My girlfriend was disappointed—she was not one of those people who liked getting high alone. My doubt made her doubt me, or something like that.
You Probably Know My Ex: The F*ckboy Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard
You probably know Soren Kierkegaard as the writer of some of the most formidable philosophical and theological works of the nineteenth century. Maybe you don’t really understand anything he’s written (because let’s face it, he kind of sucked at communication even at the best of times and avoided conciseness like the plague), but vaguely know of him from your annoying philosophy major friend.
An Introduction to White Trash Cooking
In the Mojave desert, my father is spreading warm peanut butter on a slice of wonderbread. It is our first solo camping trip since the divorce, and he is attempting to make things seem as normal as possible. He slathers grape jelly on another slice of bread, winking at me.
How Bad Was Your Latest Break-Up on a Scale from One to Wuthering Heights?
1.) For starters, why don't you tell us how you met your ex: a. Well, it was kind of sweet actually—we were high school sweethearts. I remember it took me ages to work up the courage to ask her out one afternoon after soccer practice. Even after how things ended, I wouldn’t change a thing—our first kiss under the bleachers is still one of my fondest memories.