leonstamatis: soracities:soracities:ever so quietly losing my mind courtesy of maria popova *screams
leonstamatis: soracities:soracities:ever so quietly losing my mind courtesy of maria popova *screams into pillow* [ID: Two screenshots. The first reads: “An otherwise rational man, my father describes the train encounter as love at first sight. Upon arrival, he began courting my mother with such subtlety that it took her two years to realize she was being courted. One spring morning, having finally begun to feel like a couple, they were walking across the lawn between the two dorms and decided it was time for them to have a whistle-call. At the time, Bulgarian couples customarily had whistle-calls — distinctive tunes they came up with, often borrowed from the melody of a favorite song, by which they could find each other in a crowd or summon one another from across the street.”The second image reads: “Partway between the primitive and the poetic, between the mating calls of mammals and the sonnets by which Romeo and Juliet beckoned one another, these signals were part of a couple’s shared language, a private code to be performed in public. Both sets of my grandparents had one. My mother’s parents, elementary schoolteachers in rural Bulgaria who tended to an orchard and the occasional farm animal, used a melody of unclear origin but aurally evocative of a Bulgarian folk song; my father’s parents, both civil engineers and city intellectuals, used a fragment from a Schumann waltz.” End ID.] -- source link
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