Interviewer: What Difference In Usage Would You Point Out In These Three Languages [Russian, English,

Details: Seascape, Alfred Thompson Bricher, 1890

ACHILLES AND THE LONDON BOY:

ArtBreeder Photo Board

Alexander FitzDonald

Theo Fraser

Diana Mayor

Alexander’s golden hair shone in the glass sunlight, a moment so perfect it seemed it could fracture at the smallest breath. His eyes looked like green crystals, flicks of blue emerging in the sun.

Alexander didn’t notice this, but Theo did, gazing up at the window. He looked back down at his tattered copy of the Iliad, wondering what book Alexander was reading. The sun was setting, making the world look like a haze of pink and purple. Theo looked at the cotton candy clouds, unaware that Alexander was looking right down at him, sitting on the bench next to the road. Alexander closed his book, Jane Austen’s Emma, and smiled a little half-smile, looking at the way the orange sky reflected off of Theo’s eyes. Those eyes flicked to his, Alexander turning away a few seconds too late, the grin disappearing from his face. Theo’s smile, on the other hand, only widened. Alexander chided himself for his incompetence and looked over at the door of his room, still seeing those gilded curls. He blinked quickly, trying to get them out of his vision. He looked back down at the sidewalk; the boy had gone from the wooden bench. He forced himself to look back at his book.

i love knowledge. i love knowing even the smallest of things. i love translating text and finding hidden meanings. it doesn't matter what it is, learning something new every day has always been a source of true happiness.

versailles

I dream and I dream and I dream.

The Hermitage Museum. Saint Petersburg, Russia. 10/04/2015

An Ode to Pools of Moonlight

Shimmering lace

Falls to the floor,

Like a spool of silk

Unraveling,

Revealing a dimension

Not thought of,

Not seen.

The stars melt into your waterfall

That ebbs and flows

In turn

With the tide.

A million darlings wish on your missiles,

Your projectiles of light,

Falling through the sky.

Your same image

Reflects upon the Earth,

Ever shining,

Above us all

Like a silver thread

Connecting humanity.

An Ode to Rays of Sun

Sweet, mellifluous rays of sunlight

seep through every crack, every seam

invading every crevice, every nook

until there is no space for night.

A million threads,

golden as fresh honey,

bright as a thousand suns,

tether me to the sky.

The shine of silk or velvet,

the beauty of a field of dandelions,

the yellow light,

sends a haze over everything,

obscuring all that is not good.

The morning is acissmus,

the night, a palimpsest.

Until you see the stars.

Oh, the stars deserve their own poem.

I cannot do them justice as a simple end to another.

How can one call themselves human without being enamored with the heavens?

current favourite words:

• esoteric: likely to be understood or enjoyed by only a few people with a special knowledge or interest

• hubris (greek tragedy): excessive pride towards or defiance of the gods, leading to nemesis

• trepidation: great worry or fear about something unpleasant that may happen

• hedonistic: based on the belief that pleasure is the most important thing in life

• decadence: moral or cultural decline as characterized by excessive indulgence in pleasure or luxury

• writhe: respond with great emotional or physical discomfort to (a violent or unpleasant feeling or thought)

• acerbic: (of a person or what they say) critical in a direct and rather cruel way

• sanguine: blood red

Duke Humphrey’s Library, the Bodleian, Oxford. May 2019.

Re-uploading these because I finally figured out how to format them!! I will never stop being grateful for the chance to study here.