I wrote a bio for an account on a writing forum-type website – I love filling out bios with little provided – categories – and I thought it was kind of cute and kind of accurate. So for the three people who have visited this blog and not been my close friends… here is a little bit more about me, I suppose 🙂

About: 18 years old, freshman at Emory University. Gay, depressed, Jewish violist who spends a lot of time drawing elves and coming down with fevers.
Occupation: Student
Interests: Illustration, animation, playing music and listening to music, languages, books! So many books – Tolkien and Tolkien fanworks, Tamora Pierce, Malinda Lo, William Gibson, Harry Potter, Evolution by Stephen Baxter, Ender’s Shadow, Victoria Schwab, Melinda Lo…
Favorite Music: Dvorak especially, also Mendelssohn, Shostakovich, Tchaikovsky (esp. Romeo and Juliet) Bruch, Bernstein, Smetana, Bach, Suk… Ravel’s string quartet, Bartok, anything on viola, Holst’s Planets, John Williams, Marquez’s Danzons No.2 and 4. Kina Grannis, Hozier, Marina and the Diamonds, Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Florence and the Machine, Mamamoo, sooo many other individual songs from various artists in various genres that I don’t have time to list, and a lot of musical- and soundtrack-music.
Favorite Quotes: The entire conversation between Hari Seldon and Emperor Cleon at the beginning of Prelude to Foundation.
Loves: Friends, friendship, happy breezes and nice weather and pretty trees, walks and roleplaying games with sticks for swords, pastries and coffeeshops and library visits. Sci-fi and fantasy, lots of books! And music! Listening to music, dancing to music, playing the viola. Little kids’ voices, fluffy cats, getting paid for things.
Hates: Ignorance, selfishness, persecution. Bureaucracy. James Patterson. Pointlessness. Environmental destruction, ignoring or denying global climate change. Anxiety.

River Voice

This is a fairy tale that I wrote for a class assignment in my literature class. A class assignment to write a fairy tale, in my literature class on fairy tales. I don’t know if I did this well, but I know that I am fondly attached to it, and I think that it has the emotional notes I was aiming for? So here it is, illustrations also by me.



Once upon a time, when it was darker and more quiet than now, though not by much, there was a lonely little boy. He lived in a small village on the edge of a river. A fog hovered over the river, such that no one else in the little boy’s village knew how wide it was, or what lay on the other side.

The little boy was allowed to walk along the river quite a ways, or to splash about in the shallowest water when it was warm enough, which was rare, but never to cross it. His parents encouraged him to play in the meadow with the other children of the village, who liked to play tag or catch amongst themselves, but the little boy was not overly fond of catch. Besides, none of the other children were his friends.

Instead, the little boy would walk along the bank until he reached a small tree. He would climb into the lower branches and sit among them and sing. The little boy would sing about his parents, and his house, and his pet cat. He would sing about the meadow, and the river, and the tree he sat on. I am a little boy, he would sing, I live in a little village. I like the river, I like this tree, I like to sing. Other times he sang about nothing at all, just to hear his voice echo nicely on the water.

One day in the summer, when it was warmer but no less quiet or dark, the boy cast his voice over the water and began to sing…

And he heard someone singing back!

At first the little boy was sure that he was imagining it. It must just be the echo, he told himself! But he would sing for several minutes and then listen for several minutes, and when he listened he was sure that he heard a new voice, another child singing back to him.

The little boy tried to introduce himself to the river voice. I am a little boy, he sang, I live in a little village. I like the river, I like this tree, I like to sing.

I like to sing! replied the voice from across the river, I like to sing and I like the river and I like trees. I like fish and flowers. I have a little village, but I can never leave it.

In this manner, the little boy and the voice from across the river told each other many things about themselves. The little boy sang about his parents, and his chores, and all the other children in the village who were not his friends. The river voice sang about the weather, and the plants, and the birds who flew overhead.

They spent all summer talking in this way, and singing with one another. The little boy thought that this might be what it was like to have a friend.


On the first night of autumn, the little boy’s friend did not answer him from across the river. At first, the little boy thought that the river voice could not hear him. He sang a bit louder. I am a little boy! I live in a little village, I like the river, I like the tree, I like my friend! Where are you?

No answer reached him from beyond the fog.

The little boy was worried about his friend. He would have to cross the river.

The water of the river was cold and swift, but not strong enough to yank the little boy away. He clenched his fists and took small, determined steps against the current. The river chilled his skin, and the little boy began to shiver, but he refused to turn back. He had to find his friend.

Eventually the little boy splashed onto the unfamiliar river bank, the fog dissipating around him as he trudged up the sandy shore. On this side of the river there were trees, just like where he had come from, only a little bit taller. In the midst of the tall trees was a little path leading away from the river. The little boy figured that this path must lead to the river voice’s village, and so he set off along it. The trees thinned, and opened onto a meadow with the little path weaving through it. On the other side of the meadow, the land dipped down in a valley, and finally the little boy was able to see a village.

He skipped down the hill, suddenly very excited that his friend might be so near, and began to sing again. I am a little boy! This is a new little village, and I have never been here before! I like the river between our villages, I like the trees on both sides, I like the path that is leading me to you!

He hoped that his friend would hear him and respond, but still the little boy heard no reply.

The little boy got closer and closer to the new village, until he could pick out each and every roof top of the little stone houses, but he could not see a single person. No adults were walking in the streets and no children were playing in the meadow. Instead, the streets were occupied by statues. Statues of men and women and children stood in doorways and leaned over in gardens and walked on the roads, all motionless.

The little boy ran up to the first statue he could reach, a statue of an old woman, and asked her what had happened to all the people of the village, but she was a statue and statues cannot move their lips. The old woman statue could not answer the little boy!

The little boy ran up to the second statue he could find, a statue of a little girl, and asked her where all the statues had had come from, but she was a statue, and statues cannot move their tongues. The little girl could not answer the little boy!

The little boy ran up to a third statue, a statue of a young man standing in the road, and asked him if everyone in the village was made of stone, but he was a statue, and statues cannot move their mouths. The young man could not answer the little boy!

The little boy was very upset, now, and he despaired of ever finding his friend or knowing what had happened to him. He began to walk up and down every street of the statue village, crying and singing. I am a little boy, he sang, I am a little boy and I cannot find my friend…

…and then the little boy heard a noise. At first he was sure that he was imagining it. It must be a bird, he thought, or a strange echo. But when he listened closer, the little boy was sure that he heard someone humming. His eyes widened and he kept singing, following the sound of humming. He walked down winding streets and wove around huddled statues, singing and listening as best he could, until he arrived in front of a statue of another boy, sitting in a garden.

The little boy sat in front of the statue and leaned in close to hear better, and sure enough, he could tell that the statue was humming. He now knew for sure that he recognized the voice of the humming – it was his friend! Somehow, his friend from across the river had become this statue. The little boy put his hand on one of the boy statue’s hands.


Hello! he sang to the statue, hello, I am a little boy! You are the voice from across the river, you are my friend. We are friends! You were able to talk before – I will wait until you can talk again, we can sing together. We can sing about the river and the trees and our two villages…

The little boy sat there, by his friend, for many days. The sun would rise and set, and the little boy would sing day in and day out. He sang to his friend about all the statues he had seen. He sang to his friend about all the people in the little boy’s own village, who were not statues. He sang to his friend about the river that they could go visit if the boy statue ever took a break from being a statue. The boy statue hummed back to him, but could never speak.

And then one morning, the sun rose on the first day of spring, and the boy statue could speak again.

“Hello,” said the statue to the boy. “I am a little statue, and I am your friend! I’m afraid I cannot take a break from being a statue, but that is okay! It is spring now and the weather is warmer; all statues may speak and move about in spring.”

“You are a little statue?” repeated the little boy. “Well, I am a little boy! I cannot take a break from being a boy either, but I am still going to be your friend! Can you walk to the river?”

“No,” replied the statue, “I cannot leave the village. But I can see the river from here! All statues have very good eyesight. Why don’t you walk to the river, and I will be able to see you and the river from here, and we can both sing and hear each other?”

“Yes!” said the little boy, “Yes, I will do that! I like to sing, I like the river. I will go there now!”

And so every day during the spring and summer the little boy went down to the river, and his friend the statue could see him, and they would sing to one another. And every day during fall and winter, the little boy kept his friend the statue company, and sung to him so that he could know what was going on in the cold season. The little boy was very patient, and didn’t mind that his friend could not talk to him, because he knew that his friend was listening. In the warm season, the statue would laugh and thank him and ask questions about his stories, and then they would sing together. The statue and the little boy loved each other very much for the rest of each their lives, and they were friends happily ever after.

Last Night’s Late Night Musings

Sometimes I walk across campus, because I don’t know what else to do with myself, and I Just feel… so entirely void?


When I was little I was super obsessed with how there were entire people inside of the strangers I passed on the street, and how the people who passed me looked at me and saw the cardboard cutout of my face and knew nothing about me. It amused me that they didn’t know where I was going, or what I was thinking about, or who my friends and family were, because I knew all those things and they were so inherent to who I was as a person that it was hardly like they were seeing me at all. I could spiral around for a long time picturing how they saw me, how insignificant I was to them, how none of them probably remembered that I was the center of my own universe, just as big and important as theirs. But I felt like I’d beat the game, because I knew they were people, with lives, with thoughts happening right now, and I refused to ever forget.

Last night, I was walking, and I was passing people, and I knew that they could see me. And I tried to compare that to what I was inside, right then, where I was going and what I was wanting and who I would talk to, and I didn’t feel like there was much of a difference. They didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t know where I was going. They didn’t know what I was feeling; I wasn’t feeling much of anything, really, except perhaps lonely. They didn’t know who my friends were who I was about to run into, and I didn’t expect to run into anyone. What was I stressed out about this week? What was I going to do with myself for the next four hours? What had happened that day that made me happy? I didn’t have the answer to those questions any more than the strangers who passed me. There was just… nothing.

I felt like I was my cardboard cutout. A person, I guess, and maybe a sadder one than they might assume, and that was it. There was no internal processing that the people passing me were missing out on. Sure, I still had traits. I was still gay, I could still read alto clef, I was still an introvert, I still had a brother and parents and cats. But none of those things were salient parts of myself in that moment, nothing about me was salient. To me, or to anyone else.

There’s no point to this post, I just thought that I might try describing some feelings. Those are the feelings. Overall I’m still doing fine, a lot less depressed than last year, academically enriched, etc. etc. etc.

Billy the Bookshelf

It’s been a while! A lot has happened – college has started – and perhaps I shall post some summary of ~General Life Changes~ that have happened over/since the summer, but to whatever degree I’m easing myself back into more committed blogging, I thought it would be nice to start with something simple!

So, here’s something simple: I have a dorm room! And a bookshelf! A BILLY model bookshelf from Ikea! The dorm room is big and I am the only one in it, but the bookshelf is small and full of happy book friends! You may recall that this bookshelf plan has been on my mind for a while. And now my plans have come to fruition! Behold:

image1 (8)

I decided that it would be fun to post a handy dandy breakdown of Billy The Bookshelf’s contents, as follows!

Above the Shelf (Elf art books!)
  • Ealindale by Wavesheep
  • Ages of Arda Anthology
  • Songs of Sorrow and Hope by Jenny Dolfen
Shelf 1 (Fantasy books that are short enough to fit)
  • This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab
  • The Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling
  • Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by JK Rowling
  • Song of the Lioness Quartet by Tamora Pierce
  • Trickster’s Choice and Trickster’s Queen by Tamora Pierce
  • 3 Mamamoo albums: Purple, Melting, and Memory (They don’t fit on the CD shelf)
Shelf 2 (Science fiction, and fantasy books that are Not short enough to fit on Shelf 1)
  • The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien (shocker)
  • The Peoples of Middle Earth by JRR Tolkien (to be joined by Morgoth’s Ring, once I finish it. I don’t know how it’ll fit, but I’ll find a way!)
  • Huntress by Melinda Lo
  • Ash by Melinda Lo
  • Flood by Stephen Baxter
  • Foundations by Isaac Asimov (Yes, I stuck Asimov between my Stephen Baxter Books, that was an accident but now I think all my shelving missteps add character!)
  • Evolution by Stephen Baxter
  • Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (Because I had the space for it and I can’t find my copy of Shadow of the Hegemon?????? Where did it go, who has my copy, I wish to reclaim it.)
  • Ender’s Shadow by Orson Scott Card
  • Shadows in Flight by Orson Scott Card (This is Emma’s copy? I figured it was better to have it in my dorm where I could be reminded to return it when the opportunity presents itself.)
  • Virtual Light by William Gibson (The rest of the books in that series are at my house, because I still haven’t finished this one!)
  • Count Zero by William Gibson
  • Neuromancer by William Gibson
Shelf 3 (Music!)
  • Two little picture books with very short stories in them from my aunt. These aren’t super nostalgic or sentimental, I just really like them.
  • A bunch of CDs!
    • A set of CDs with some of my favorite classical music that my Dad burned my for Hannukkah two years ago, which make me feel warm and fuzzy, containing the following:
      • Dvorak New World Symphony (aka Objectively The Best Symphony)
      • Dvorak Piano Quintet, String Quintet
      • Dvorak Symphony No. 7, Sibelius Symphony No. 2
      • Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 5
      • Suk Fantasy + Fairy Tale + Fantastic Scherzo
      • Sibelius Violin Concerto, Smetana The Moldau
      • Smetana Bartered Bride Dances (aka my Childhood Dancing Music that I listened and danced to like every day and makes me tear up now)
    • Midori playing the Bach and Bartok Violin Sonatas
    • Arabella Steinbacher playing Dvorak Violin Concertos
    • Some CDs I listened to very very very often when I got my little disc player tiny speaker system set up in my room in fifth grade and are thereby surprisingly nostalgic to listen to:
      • Dvorak Symphonic Poems
      • Gil Shaham playing the Butterfly Lovers
      • Sarah Chang playing Vivaldi Four Seasons, and also his Concerto in G Minor just tacked on the end there
    • CBH Discography:
      • Wheels Within Wheels
      • Full Cold Moon (the chant CD – the string group plays on like two tracks)
      • Fire Flashing Up (our string CD)
Shelf 4 (Books on my to-read list, beloved books that don’t fit on other shelves)
  • Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo (in the wrong order, yes, I know)
  • The Shades of Magic trilogy by Victoria Schwab
  • Some books that aren’t on this bookshelf because they are my Favorite Books Ever, just because I haven’t gotten around to reading them yet and I mean to!
    • The Better to Kiss You With (is Fantasy With Lesbians, I’m a sucker for fantasy with lesbians)
    • The Hollow Sun (A dark modern fantasy thing with queer characters that I bought from its author at Dragon Con)
    • The Windup Girl (A science fiction novel that I’ve been meaning to get to for a while)

Beside the Bookshelf (Some personal items!)

  • My senior year yearbook
  • My last four sketchbooks, not including the one currently in use
  • My little agendas from senior and junior year, respectively

Aaaaand, that’s all for now! Cheers!

Band Names

I’ve been sorting out papers that have cluttered up my death over the past year(s?), and I found this gem of a list of band names that was concocted in Calculus. These are mostly inside jokes, but since this blog curtails to a mostly inside audience, I’m indulging myself in publishing them!


  • Sex Muffin
  • Death from Exams
  • Pzazzlezazzlzazzles
  • 4 Gays + Clarissa
  • Lunch Bag Overload
  • 13th Zodiac
  • The Enemy’s Gate is Fuck You
  • Fig Men
  • Hyperbolic Integral
  • Hyperbolic Interval!
  • Point of Inflection
  • Evilclan
  • Tugship
  • Take Her Out of the Curve
  • Poodlesniffers
  • Meepo and the Beepo
  • Papules
  • Literature Villains
  • Hypocrassy
  • Sluggo
  • Geometric Donut
  • Trying to Find the Velocity of Your Dreams?
    Maybe You Should DerivaLIVE
  • It ALL Comes Down to Squares
  • GaRADriel
  • Fad-Burning Stereotypes
  • Self Esteem Issues
  • Butt Sparkles
  • Bird man
  • Oscum’s Noze Goze Boom
  • A Walter
  • Syntax Error
  • Straight n Single
  • Hannah Give Me Your Jacket
  • Non-adjustable Lingeree
  • Square Mellons
  • Someone’s Salty
  • Cosplaying Hannah’s Elf In The Restroom
  • At The Tip
  • Sej Pej
  • Sajjad’s Error

(Brief Update)

Hello! I don’t want to make a big deal out of Returning, since I can’t guarantee that I’m Back(TM); I just have a couple things I feel inclined to start articulating! I’ve drafted some posts between January and now, but I never refined any of them to the point where they were ready to publish. Now that I’m free for the summer and re-inspired by a couple topics, perhaps I’ll get back into more of a rhythm?

In any case, here are some general life updates from the past four-ish months!

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  • The biggest and most recent news: I graduated high school this past Thursday, which probably deserves to be its own post? Perhaps more reflections to come. It is the summer now, and I am ready to actually go to the pool for the first time in like three years.
  • I got into some colleges and not into some others (the latter including my top choice, which caused me to dissociate for a solid two hours and lmao that was Wild), but in the end I am going to Emory!
  • Emory is exciting because: I get to stay in town with my family, which for me is a good thing! And I’m going to be nearby my UGA pals. Also, thanks to the courtesy scholarship, this is the cheapest option I could have gone with, so I get to not lose all my money! Hooray! I get to keep my gay musical happy synagogue, and the high paying teaching job I’m about to get there. Also my therapist. So everything is exciting!
  • Something self destructive and bad happened in January, but other than that my mental health has improved a lot since the fall! There are occasional little lapses under duress, but nothing catastrophic.
  • I had some exciting chemistry with a girl at the very beginning of the semester, but she has a boyfriend and I am Still Single.
  • I LEARNED THE BRUCH VIOLIN CONCERTO THATS A BIG DEAL. By “learned” I mean I performed the first movement and I’ve basically got the second movement down? And we’re just… not gonna talk about the third movement, yikes. I played the Vorspiel for my last group violin recital ever, which was both pretty emotional and really badass.
  • I performed at Carnegie Hall! We did the orchestra trip, we went to New York, we saw Kinky Boots (which was Amazing and Great) and performed and had a little photoshoot in the park and I didn’t trip on stage.
  • That’s…all I can think of? Thanks for sticking around!

2nd Semester Transcription

Here’s a part 2 to my eclectic agenda keeping! I was a little less consistent this semester, especially towards the end of the year. Nevertheless, I still find these little tidbits rather charming! I hope they will also bring you some amusement, or intrigue, or something,



  • Welcome to Second Semester
    with Julia “Zaslaw more like no law” Borthwick and company
  • My friends are having a party
    without me, because I am gone
  • An end of an era of darkness [written in elvish]
  • Back To School
  • get out of gym
    bust out of hell
  • hungry…   …hungry….   ….hungry [written in elvish]
  • Refill your Breeze card!
    Marta card, Marta art
  • SNOW?!
  • read read read read
    McCurdy is agrumpin’
    read read read read
    lots of time to crunch in
  • my free response grade is a
    I’m one point less of a horrible FAILURE!
  • lithp [written in elvish]
  • OW ow Ow OW ow OW ow OW ow OW ow
  • dadi…. dadi… maaaami
  • Welcome back to EYSO
  • why am I so IMPOTENT
  • Elf Saturday
  • Many deadlines!
  • my nightingale: tinuviel [written in elvish]
  • your narcissism narcitates me
  • no moosic 🙂
  • how can you be this inadequette
  • messed up
    messed up
    messed up
  • word of the day: canoodling
  • Bengali
  • botch
    it’s been botched
  • word of the day: consequent
  • consequent ramifications [written in elvish]
  • “Yay it’s a Friday. and y’all are acting like it.”
  • penenguinenguin, what’s your fenguin? [written in elvish]
  • Viol[a] Recital
  • Stay for review @ beginning of graphics
    or not
    yeah, okay, not
  • You didn’t do any MOLES today 😦
  • Invisible Man Quiz Probably
    nope huzzah
  • Schedule with Lena?!
  • Bruch

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