Be kind, have courage and always believe in a little magic.
CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh

blake kathryn
d e v o n
Three Goblin Art

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DEAR READER

Andulka
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.

if i look back, i am lost
tumblr dot com
KIROKAZE
i don't do bad sauce passes
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pixel skylines
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day

Kiana Khansmith

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taylor price

Origami Around
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@weedinspiredwriter
Be kind, have courage and always believe in a little magic.
CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh
By Camille Fourcade
cinderella shots that look like paintings (7/?)
CINDERELLA (2015)
Cinderella concept art by Marc Davis
I have been interested in historical fashion for quite some time, and have been watching youtubers who explain ways that modern media oversimplifies, modernizes and wrongly portrays fashion styles from different era, destroys their silhouette for the sake of pandering to modern views of beautifulness. The first thing that I thought of were Disney Princesses whose styles were pretty, but also very questionable when it comes to accurate presentation of the era they lived in. Of course, this simplification could be because the designs were made to appeal more towards what children would see as memorable, tho I have to say that I thought that original Disney princesses designs were accurate for embarrassingly long time.
Walt Disney’s team of core animators known as the Nine Old Men who changed animation forever.
Cinderella (1950) dir. Clyde Geronimi, Hamilton Luske and Wilfred Jackson
Lily James as Ella CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh
When there is kindness, there is goodness. When there is goodness, there is magic. CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh
CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh
Will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you. Of course I will. But only if you will take me as I am. An apprentice still learning his trade. CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh
By Astor Alexander
Last night, I told my mother "I wish I was dead" in a fit of rage and winter clouded her eyes. But it wasn't white and it wasn't quiet, it resembled something like helplessness and rage. She was in pain and I knew I hurt her. I wanted to say something, anything, but how do you withdraw a declaration of war? How do you stop the bombs that already destroyed homelands? In that moment I remembered how she always told me that when she was a kid, she was too afraid to sleep with the lights on. Not because she was afraid of monsters, but because she feared her grandmother would die. Because when you're a kid, not seeing it means it doesn't exist anymore. I saw the winter in her eyes again and I knew I had switched off the light, she wasn't angry, she was afraid.
And I also remembered how she always told me I'd always be 3 years old for her, always a child, and for the first time, I heard in the voice of a three year old "I wish I was dead". My heart broke. And I wanted to hug her and hold her, tell her I was sorry, that I didn't mean it. Before I could move a hand, she left the room. The entire evening, I saw myself as she saw me, a 3 year old child. I saw the child hurt herself and cry herself to sleep every week, fight her friends with her tiny hands and two ponytails, I saw her depression and her anxiety, I saw her yell "I wish I was dead" and I knew. I knew. I wanted to shout through the walls, yell and cry and tell my mother that now I KNEW, but I didn't. I wept and wept until I heard a quiet knock and a soft familiar voice whispered, "Dinner is ready".
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire
“I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.”
— Virginia Woolf
not to be too dramatic but it's hauntingly beautiful that we made a home on tumblr, fell in love with the words of people we've never met. Reading each other's secrets and loving each other from thousands of miles away, as if we knew we had too much love inside of us and stored it in the tags.
-Ritika Jyala
Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper by Richard Siken