we've got to get ourselves back to the garden

[househunting]

$175,000/3 br/1320 sq ft

Brookline, VT

[aweepingwillow]

The wave breaks. I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room.

Virginia Woolf, born 25th January 1882

[mabellonghetti]

Francoise Hardy photographed by Steve Schapiro In Venice, 1966

[themaninthegreenshirt]

“I was for a very long time passionately in love with her, as I’m sure she’s guessed. Every male in the world, and a number of females also were, and we all still are.” - David Bowie, talks Françoise Hardy

[anancientheart]

I want to be open for you. Like the moonflower at dusk, pale and luminescent in the heat. Like the doors of a church carved into something forgiving - I want to be a place for you to rest. Honey, please listen when I tell you this. Love is safe. Do you hear me? I’ve put all the pain away. Everything sharp is wrapped up. Everything loud is hushed. Love is the wind that makes the leaves dance. You are the softest part of the morning.

Emery Allen from Holy Things In This World (via wethinkwedream)

[ichigoumi]

[lunapalm-deactivated20241008]

[publicdomaindiva]

A time-lapse hibiscus from “Garden Wise,” c. 1950s.

[larchcoin]

[anancientheart]

the last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things,

E.E. Cummings (via wethinkwedream)

[lesstalkmoreillustration]

Anežka (Agnes) Kašpárková

(via 90-Year-Old Czech Grandma Turns Small Village Into Her Art Gallery By Hand-Painting Flowers On Its Houses | Bored Panda)

[nen-kiddo]

[everythingisyelloow]

[qmannola]

[nostalgicgifs]

Joni Mitchell – Woodstock (1970)

[emotional-algebra]

What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.

John Steinbeck   (via blackwhitebbc)

[two-solitudes-deactivated201810]

[…] All things are passing. Help them on their way. And then your life will not be merely seeping out through some crack. Remain your whole life long the conscious giver.

— Rainer Maria Rilke, select lines from “From the Poems of Count C.W,” transl. by J.B Leishman, Poems 1906 to 1926 (New Directions Books, 1957)