1. love is the most powerful thing 2. second to none

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@phonebook-blog
1. love is the most powerful thing 2. second to none
1 – It feels like as we get older, our worlds get smaller. 2 – or that we just become larger in our heads – and others become smaller.
how do we reverse this?
My Love, Don't Cross That River (2016)
beach fossils, forever
Gen Yamanaka - One Shape
Allie Crandall, Los Angeles, 2016.
__________
lambs
This is God who created sneezes made bananas: bright, yellow, and silly-looking made puppies pasta necklaces worn rugs where hundreds of footsteps shuffle over who made childrens' books and gap-toothed smiles and badly dealt self haircuts (or barbie haircuts)
who creates the most outrageous lollipop flavors and weird candy temper tantrums and childrens' (bless their heart) tender disposition to come back, crawl into laps, and be comforted
this is God who has a gentle tender heart
5/23/13
From dreams of bliss shall men awake One day, but not to weep The dreams remain; they only break The mirror of the sleep.
Jean Paul, Hesperus
Helena Severin by Jeff Boudreau for Sleek Spring 2017
Conte de printemps, Éric Rohmer, 1990.
ABOUT DANIEL ARNOLD Daniel Arnold stole his last words off his cousin (“I told you my feet were killing me”) and died without giving her credit. That same dipshit had a little “1” stick & poke so that when somebody asked if he had any tattoos he could point to his bicep and say "yeah just this 1." He was a million things before photographer- a dishwasher dog walker book shelver babysitter, and a garbage writer with a thing for the internet and a soft spot for sad assholes. A great friend to strangers and a stranger to great friends, he gave everything away, was mostly kind to animals and like Oprah always said, "he was the voice of his generation.” Too bad he died right after saying that C+ joke.
(interview notes)
obsession, and a nostalgia you just want to chase all the time
My older sister has entire kingdoms inside of her, and some of them are only accessible at certain seasons, in certain kinds of weather. One such melting occurs in summer rain, at midnight, during the vine-green breathing time right before sleep. You have to ask the right question, throw the right rope bridge, to get there-and then bolt across the chasm between you, before your bridge collapses.
Karen Russell
Truth without love is condescending. Love without truth is only pretending. Love and Truth must walk hand-in-hand.
J.S. Park