tranquila

[melisica]

[glassbonespaperskin]

[elesq]

[elesq]

[elesq]

(All prints discounted for the foreseeable future!)

[saara138]

drawing with thread instead of pen today 

[onlytwitterpics]

[aliensfromhell]

[sadcapricorn]

[imagination]

instagram source

[thelovejournals]

I think of you in bed, your tongue half chocolate, half ocean…

Anne Sexton, “Eighteen Days Without You”, The Complete Poems (via raysofthesun)

[heartfevers]

self reminder: things will be alright ↠ quote that moved me to tears by @inkskinned

[avtavr]

[hiraethdiaries]

[oldfarmhousefallfeatures]

franciskasvakreverden @instagram

[lovelustquotes]

Be present. Make love. Make tea. Avoid small talk. Embrace conversation. Buy a plant, water it. Make your bed. Make someone else’s bed. Have a smart mouth, and quick wit. Run. Make art. Create. Swim in the ocean. Swim in the rain. Take chances. Ask questions. Make mistakes. Learn. Know your worth. Love fiercely. Forgive quickly. Let go of what doesn’t make you happy. Grow.

Paulo Coehlo (via lovelustquotes)

[drunkenlyhere]

Rhiley. My name is Rhiley and it means rushing river, flowing water, which is fitting, because I am torrential. I am tidal waves of emotion. Whether or not you like me will depend on whether or not you are able to find beauty in destruction. Destruction comes naturally to me: whether it’s myself or others, but like tsunamis destroy cities, I will destroy you, breaking you down to your elements, stripping you bare. I can be graceful: I am a flowing stream; I am your childhood memories behind your grandparents house. Most importantly, I am destruction in natures purest form. I carve rocks down, steel down, diamonds down. I am the strongest and gentlest thing in the world. I will break you down and make you a new beginning; I will break you down and give you a chance to start over; I will break you down and let your atoms rearrange to where they were always meant to be.

things I couldn’t fit on a “hi, my name is” sticker. (via dggystyle)

[zirschnitz]

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.

Dr. Maya Angelou — poet, essayist, historian, actress, and activist — died this morning at age 86. This is the title poem from her 1978 poetry collection, And Still I Rise. (via jubilantics)