“I go where I love and where I am loved, into the snow; I go to the things I love with no thought of duty or pity.”
— H. D., The Flowering of the Rod (via defense-mechanisms)

Love Begins
trying on a metaphor
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA

if i look back, i am lost

#extradirty
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Monterey Bay Aquarium

Origami Around
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ellievsbear
Show & Tell
EXPECTATIONS

shark vs the universe
official daine visual archive

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Jules of Nature
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seen from Belarus

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@j-ouissance
“I go where I love and where I am loved, into the snow; I go to the things I love with no thought of duty or pity.”
— H. D., The Flowering of the Rod (via defense-mechanisms)
Pekka Halonen (Finnish, 1865-1933), Winter Landscape, 1913. Oil on board, 54 x 43 cm.
CAROL (2015) dir. Todd Haynes
Perfect Magazine, 2022.
Ph. Zhong Lin
THEY ARE WATCHING US. SOON, WE WILL BE WATCHING THEM.
Today is officially the first good day of 2015. Also, I wore Scully’s mustard button-up and double-breasted blazer with stud earrings outfit to work last week.
itsseylynn
Babushkitty
IN MY HEART GLOVES by Kater
“There is a time in life when you expect the world to be always full of new things. And then comes a day when you realize that is not how it will be at all. You see that life will become a thing made of holes. Absences. Losses. Things that were there and are no longer. And you realize, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps, though you can put your hand out to where things were and feel that tense, shining dullness of the space where the memories are.”
— Helen Macdonald, H is for Hawk
John Singer Sargent (American, 1856-1925), An Archway, c.1879-80. Oil on canvas, 18 ½ x 14 ¼ in.
Egon Schiele (Austrian, 1890-1918), Sitzende Frau [Seated Woman], 1917. Black pencil on paper, 46.1 x 29.6 cm.
“…to seek among phrases and fragments something unbroken—I to whom there is not beauty enough in moon or tree; to whom the touch of one person with another is all, yet who cannot grasp even that, who am so imperfect, so weak, so unspeakably lonely.”
— Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Weathered, Stitched - Cindy Rizza , 2014.
American, b. 1984 -
Oil on canvas , 60 x 60,1 cm.
SF Muni fast passes, 1976-1979
portable TVs with personalities