sfumato
math is weird. i’m not referring to math classes because those are just somniferous. somniferous lunches followed by somniferous math classes. but the matter of math itself is weird. the graph in my calculator deceives me, insanely zoomed in blue lines or barely intersecting blue and red lines - make up your mind! numbers imprisoned among grids, lines limited by arrows, and slow trickling of parabolas and asymptotes - i don’t know what math is about. history is tragic. i feel history in my bones and i see history, not just in my textbook but outside of it, in the digital pdf- in the recurring arm sitting underneath the book; a librarian in a crisp checked shirt scanning each page meticulously, their morning spent glancing at monotonous stories of warriors and pictures of movements that shaped the world. they don’t know the power they hold. trust and betrayal, history is drama, petty colonisers and bold under-appreciated women. they are human. movies about history...