tell me something beautiful
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
cherry valley forever
trying on a metaphor
NASA

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YOU ARE THE REASON
Peter Solarz

Love Begins

JBB: An Artblog!
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Show & Tell
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One Nice Bug Per Day

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Sweet Seals For You, Always

Discoholic 🪩

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@underalilacsky
tell me something beautiful
The answer to the problem of suffering is not away from the problem but in it. The inevitability of pain will not be met by deadening sensitivity but by increasing it, by exploring and feeling out the manner in which the natural organism itself wants to react and which its innate wisdom has provided.
Nature, Man and Woman
Alan Watts
Anaïs Nin modeling for a painter as Cleopatra, 1921
Elena Wuest - An afternoon Tea, 2026 - Oil on canvas
Two Irises - Bear and Its Cub (Komochiguma) by an unknown artist.
Japan (circa 1910).
Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.
Wikimedia.
Dearest ghost,I am lost again...the dream i once held onto, it feels so far away now... uncertain if you are still there- I ache yearn for something real and igniting... *sigh* oh mirror, cast to me your incandescent clarity.
dreams, come back to me.
From insight do I initiate my genesis. [...] I feign permeation into my own substance.
— WAFA LAMRANI ⚜️ Poems for the Millennium, Volume Four: The University of California Book of North African Literature [Eds. Pierre Joris & Habib Tengour], transl. by Hassan Hilmy, (2013)
tulip candle 🌷🕯️♡
I want to be held. I want somebody dear to hold me in the wind and the rain when nobody’s near to hold me.
I want to be touched as the tree touches sky and sky touches earth so horizons appear to hold me.
I want to strike out as a flock strikes for home and home is now this, now that, warm hemisphere to hold me.
I want to uncoil a long river of hair, my beloved to sleep, to cross sleep’s frontier to hold me.
I want all that has been denied me. And more. Much more than God in some lonely stratosphere to hold me.
I want hand and eye, sweet roving things, and land for grazing, praising, and the last pioneer to hold me.
I want my ship to come in, hopes to run high before my back’s so bowed even children fear to hold me.
I want to die being held. Hearing my name thrown, thrown like a rope from a very old pier to hold me.
I want to catch the last echoes, reel them in like a curing-song in the creel of my ear to hold me.
I want Rodolfo to sing, flooding the gods, Ah Mimi! as if I were her and he, here, to hold me
MiMi Khalvati
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry dated 27 March 1922, from The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin: 1920-23
Saw my first butterfly of the year today
from @richard_der_schlesier on ig .
emotional intelligence cannot be had if one lacks the capacity to self-reflect. because i am aware of this, I actively work to improve the ways in which i refuse emotional intimacy in all areas of my life -- including with myself. i just don't see how self-evolution is possible without achieving emotional intelligence and actively integrating that knowledge daily.
*sigh* many a thought to express. Hopefully soon I will be granted the time to do so...