write about me sometime

Sheysel

[weltenwellen]

Henry Miller in a letter to Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin Henry Miller, 1932-1953

[weltenwellen]

Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase

[a-quiet-green-agreement]

Life is strange, isn't it? You can be totally entranced by the glow of something one minute, be willing to sacrifice everything to make it yours, but then a little time passes, or your perspective changes a bit, and all of a sudden you're shocked at how faded it appears. What was I looking at? you wonder.

– Haruki Murakami, from “Scheherazade,” Men Without Women: Stories (Vintage, 2018)

[furples]

so in love with these paintings by wayne thiebaud

[hideback]

Julius Grimm (1842-1906)

In 1888, Julius Grimm used photography and telescope observation to create this intricately detailed and precise oil painting of the moon. In the night sky, the moon is always lit from behind you – so the shadows of the craters can never appear as they do in this painting. Grimm instead regarded the moon as if it were a still life, bathed in golden light emanating from the left side of the painting. 

“The picture should only be hung or positioned, that the light falls onto the picture from the side where the arrow is positioned, because otherwise, in the case of incorrect lighting, the effect could be completely lost.”

[sereneawareness]

reblogged on the night of an amaranthine scorpio new moon

[firstfullmoon]

“I thought I understood your longing—it looked so much like mine.”

— Rebecca Lindenberg, excerpt of “Love, An Index”, from Love, An Index (via antigonick)

[flowerytale]

Anne Carson, from The Glass Essay

[h111p0wer]

[sereneawareness]

How could I ever be truly known when I have no finite end?

[sereneawareness]

Nostalgia has always carried its inherent loneliness.

It's never felt truer than it does now. Where will I be 10 years from now, if this is what 26 feels like?

Why is distancing ourselves from our memories the price we must pay?

[sereneawareness]

I feared growing out of adolescence for so long. I still do.

I think I'm grateful I can still feel the type of loneliness that exists at 1:36am. It reminds me of 17.

The loneliness then felt heavier. Now, it feels darker.

This type of sadness is harder to romanticize.

[sereneawareness]

the everlasting, yet futile search for simplicity.

is that hope?

it’s why i’m here at 2:59 am.

[23rdhunter]

Blue Blubber Jellyfish, Baltimore Aquarium, 2022

[mcworldowner]

[demigodxtonio]

Instagram : AtelierDeMuse

[lovelysuggestions]

the stars would be so proud to know their atoms created someone like you.

[justachildofthecosmos]

[flaizen]

“In the world somewhere, right now, someone is pouring coffee in a hotel lobby in an island town waiting for the sun to come up, thinking about how in the world somewhere, at the exact same time, someone else is making tea before bed on a warm night in the countryside. And somewhere else, someone is waiting for a train in a busy city to get dinner with the girl he is breaking up with, who is putting on mascara across town thinking about her brother who’s bartending in LA and the open invitation she never thought she’d want to use. And no matter what you’re doing right now, and whether or not you’re happy with it, it’s oddly comforting to think that any life you ever dream of having exists, and at any given moment, someone else is living it.”

— (via i-wrotethisforme)