almost home
Misplaced Lens Cap
hello vonnie
styofa doing anything
ojovivo

oozey mess

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

tannertan36
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

@theartofmadeline
Monterey Bay Aquarium
sheepfilms

roma★
Claire Keane
trying on a metaphor

Kaledo Art
i don't do bad sauce passes

JVL
art blog(derogatory)

JBB: An Artblog!

seen from United States
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@desperatelyquiet
“Let’s call the future heaven / and be done with a romance of the present. / The present was a mistake. / The possibility of anything else is a call to arms.”
— Billy-Ray Belcourt, from “A Romance of the Present,” NDN Coping Mechanisms
Is it programmatic Or morally basic to say There’s a fucked up glow Inside me my friends Don’t really seem To understand
[…]
Everyone I ever failed Come to forgive me For what I wish They could help me
With.
— Ana Božičević, from “Depression,” published in Brooklyn Rail
And every year there is a brief, startling moment When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air: It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies; It is the changing light of fall falling on us.
~ Edward Hirsch (via conflictingheart)
Irina
Carturesti Carusel
Masha Theone
Love someone who is kinder to you than you are to yourself.
Nikita Gill (via thelovejournals)
After Making Love No one should ask the other “What were you thinking?”
No one, that is, who doesn’t want to hear about the past
and its inhabitants, or the strange loneliness of the present
filled, even as it may be, with pleasure, or those snapshots
of the future, different heads on different bodies.
Some people actually desire honesty. They must never have broken
into their own solitary houses after having misplaced the key,
never seen with an intruder’s eyes what is theirs.
Stephen Dunn
Notorious (1946) directed by Alfred Hitchcock
For Her
Let it be anywhere on any night you wish, in your room that is empty and dark
or down the street or at those dim frontiers you barely see, barely dream of.
You will not feel desire, nothing will warn you, no sudden wind, no stillness of air.
She will appear, looking like someone you knew: the friend who wasted her life,
the girl who sat under the palm tree. Her bracelets will glitter, becoming the lights
of a village you turned from years ago. Mark Strand