Saturday, December 31, 2011

the house is eerily quiet on new year's eve.

2012 is upon us. so quickly the time seems to slip away. 

several things of the moment - 

- my leaves wallflower - how have i not found out about this until now? it is amazing...it smells like apple cider and autumn leaves (of course) and cinnamon and just slightly of pumpkin spice and caramel... *sigh* 

- the nail polish combo i'm wearing right now - three layers of opi ink and one layer of sally hansen dvd. impossible to photograph its duochrome-y, sparkly, blue-purple shift.

- getting into film photography - i recently inherited a neglected film camera (pentax pz1-p) and i'm learning how to use it. it's been mostly research up to this point, but the (long expired) film is loaded and waiting to be used. 

- abandoned amusement parks - is that weird? i definitely want to visit one someday, just the whole creepy, derelict idea of them seems really awesome to me.

the space between the walls.

wishing i could redecorate my bedroom...

 
link - the bedding.. *swoon* i spend an ungodly amount of time on the anthropologie website. actually, i went to an actual store for the first time just a couple days ago (none particularly close to my house) and...would definitely be my new favorite store hands down if everything wasn't so expensive (okay, maybe not that expensive, but i can't really justify spending close to $100, sometimes more, for one piece of clothing.

link - is that a chandelier of jewelry?! tangent story - ever since my jewelry collection outgrew its housing, it's slowly filled random bowls and jars and gotten hung on clothes hangers, i've had the intention of making some kind of jewelry tree out of actual tree branches, but i haven't quite had the time to figure out how to make this work logistically...

link - i really, really like the wall of stuff (charlieissocoollike reference, anyone?) and i feel like this is definitely something you would see in my future dorm room or something. also the quote of course because i have a bit of a quote fetish... 

link - another thing i really love about beds is when they have a canopy that you can pull around the entire thing, which i think is probably just me having never grown out of my childhood love of forts and tents and the like. another tangent story - i have a canopy over my bed right now but i also have the slight problem of one of the posts of my four poster bed being broken, so my bed is like half-canopied in this interesting diagonal fashion. (the post was broken before i got the canopy anyways.)

link - a little muted for my general style but i couldn't resist the three birdcage-esque decorations hanging over the bed. though i don't own any birds, i think it would be very cool and awesome to get a birdcage just to hang and look at (and possibly put things in).

link - anyone that's seen my room can testify to the fact that i like to collage the walls. a lot. and hanging christmas lights is another one of those things that i've always wanted to do but never got around to. i also spy one (maybe two?) film cameras, a dream-catcher, and one of my favorite degas paintings.  

no copyright infringement / picture thievery intended.

Friday, December 30, 2011

afternoon ramblings.


turquoise bracelets and flowers in her hair,
flowy, ruffly floral dresses and fluttering feather earrings,
smells of honeysuckle and fresh picked berries,
lives in vintage boutiques and used bookstores,
walls plastered with paintings and half-finished sketches,
takes pride in her quirky, bohemian fashion sense,
a mess of scribbled poems and quotes and song lyrics,
always dancing to a song only she can hear,
loves warm sand and cool surf,
and dewy grass and blooming daisies,
unique, carefree, mysterious, creative,
she lives with her head in the clouds and her heart in the sky,
sleeps under the stars and chases after butterflies,
loves relaxing up a tree with a good book and cool lemonade,
designs her own jewelry and perfumes,
surrounded by candles and trinkets and sheet music,
lost keys, vintage photography, sea glass,
tulle, paintbrushes, and effortless hair,
she’s a mix of patterns, textures, and styles,
splashes of thousands of brilliant colors,
soft gold, bright teal, deep plum, forest green,
with pirouettes and leaps flowing together like ribbons,
she runs with the wind, chasing dreams
and living in every moment.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

potpourri.


your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. and most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.                              – steve jobs





exploration in blues and yellows. - a drawing/doodle i did a while ago in Sharpies on a scrap piece of cardstock. i would love wallpaper that looked like this...



i wish i could fly.


all credit to original artists.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

gossamer - a poem.


The first beams of sunshine, its golden warming rays
Illuminate the dewdrops lingering on gossamer strings.
Like golden Christmas lights, strand upon strand,
Swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the breeze.

Its pattern complex, like pottery that’s crazed,
Nestled beneath the bench to which it clings. 
Delicate white strings seem to recede and expand,
Spun silver, tightropes for fairies. 

Time slips by; the web’s fragile threads loosen,
One by one, they lose their grip, dangling passively.
Loose threads hanging limply, quivering, shaking.   
Once-sparkling strands fade to grey.

Night is falling, the beauties of morning long forgotten,
Last remnants of a once-radiant web dangle listlessly.
Exposed, desolate, abandoned. The sky is crying, 
The rain washes Arachne’s loom away. 
 
                credit for photo goes here.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

on mason jars.


a project i did not too long ago for school. done on 18" x 24" paper with derwent pencils. i know i used a reference image, but i can't seem to find it... there's just something about mason jars that i'm a little bit obsessed with. honestly, there are at least five just laying around my room.   

Friday, December 23, 2011

engulfed in music - a poem.

Go.
Turn up the music.
LOUDER.
Drown everything out.
Your thoughts, your regrets, your pain.
Let it go.
Lose yourself in the beat,
In the lyrics, in the sound that threatens to engulf you.
Find your heart in its throbbing rhythm,
Let the melody fill the emptiness in your chest.
Empty your mind.
Don’t think.
Just live.
Show your passion to the world.
Dance.
Faster, harder, let the music pulsate through your soul.
Let the music carry you away.
Scream.
Louder, stronger, find the words you’ve been dying to sing.
Let the music carry you away.
I’m drowning in sound,
Notes, chords, words, poured into my ears like liquid gold,
Bright, burning, beautiful.
And for just one moment,
I forget everything,
Regrets of the past, worries of the future,
And I lose myself in the moment.
It’s just me and the music,
Singing to the lyrics, dancing to the beat.
But in the chaos,
In this catastrophe of sound,
This whirlwind of noise,
I’ve found my heart. 
Louder, LOUDER, LOUDER,
Turn up the music.
Go.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

nostalgic instagrams.




photography by me.

casual neutrals - polyvore.



i am not here today. i am drifting. i’m losing myself in this endless expanse of soft, muted colors. i’m wandering from place to place, following my feet and my heart. i’m somewhere in the space between lucidity and unconsciousness. my body follows these senseless sheep through their odious days of same steps and routines and nonsense, but my mind is far away. far from these people who call themselves teachers when all they do is drone on and on about state requirements and tests and meeting standards. i’m hanging on to whisper-thin wishes. i am not here. i am lost in my imagination, gliding from thought to subject to question in a seamless stream of nonsense. i’m zoning out the real world and its problems and all the dull formulas i’m supposed to memorize to ensure that i’m on course for the rest of my life. i’m exactly where i’m happiest, which is anywhere but here.

simple things that make me happy.

 i'll follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie

- my friends <3
- my camera
- rain
- the smell of autumn
- mason jars
- scented candles
- rereading good books
- old keys
- vintage shops
- sketching
- the beach
- whipped cream
- music
- peacock feathers
- nail polish
- dancing
- scarves

 photography by me.

...

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

on red buckets and nostalgia.

some short fiction i wrote -


the red bucket is still out there. out in the yard, just behind the trees, where i hid it so many years ago. it’s still there; collecting so many layers of grime you could hardly recognize its original color. but i could. i would know my bucket in an instant. i would know its distinct color – red like an apple just before it’s ripe. i would remember how we used to make the grandest castles and most decadent cakes and anything our minds could imagine. we’d climb the peeling white fence between our houses so many times it was as if it wasn’t even there. that bucket was endless adventures, secret missions, mysteries to be solved. i would remember how you used to put it on your head and declare yourself king, smiling from ear to ear with your head tilted to one side. i would think about the time we filled it with the chocolate chip cookies your mother made, still too hot to eat, and run out into the field behind your house until we couldn’t run anymore. and the time we took turns standing on it outside my sister’s window, spying on her and her friends. that bucket was lazy summer days when we’d fill it with books and lay out in the grass, reading away the hours. it would remind me of the time my family drove us to North Carolina and we filled it to the brim with the ripest blackberries, and how our fingers were stained blue-purple for days because we’d eaten so many. i’d shake my head, thinking back to the time when you set that bucket out on my sidewalk and tried to jump over it with your skateboard, breaking its handle and your ankle. but most of all, if i ever saw that bucket again, i would think about the time when we sneaked out past midnight, for no reason other than for wanting to see each other, and you picked me up and stood me on top of that poor, weathered bucket and kissed me. i remember it as if it were yesterday. i remember how you smelled of your shampoo and lilac laundry detergent and ever-so-slightly of burning leaves. it was freezing that night and my toes and fingers were numb from the cold, but i didn’t care. but the thing i remember most was how unbelievably happy i was in that one moment, how i found myself wishing i could somehow stop time and live forever in the space between those two seconds. the red bucket is still out there. out in the yard, just behind the trees, where i hid it so many years ago. i could go find it, if i wanted. but i know i won’t. i’ll never go looking for it. i don’t want be reminded of the cracks and chips and spots where it’s faded pink from the sun. i don’t want to be reminded of how we drifted apart and how you fell in and out of love, moving on and leaving me behind. i don’t want to remember because my memories are better than reality. 
             
"nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed." 
                    - john green

some photos for thought.



 

photography by me.


Monday, December 19, 2011

bliss - a poem.

You know the moment,
When laughter fills your body,
A thick, golden syrup that smells like pure bliss.
When you lose yourself completely in that moment,
And suddenly nothing else matters.
You know the feeling,
When youre filled to the brim with excitement,
And you feel so light that
You might just float away in the breeze.
In this one moment,
Everything seems brighter, infinitely more vibrant.
Here, in this space between two seconds,
You feel amazing,
Beautiful
Unstoppable.
You feel eternally happy.
And if you could somehow stop time,
Caught in this moment for the rest of your life, 
You could live forever. 


photography Pictures, Images and Photos
note: not my image, can be found here 

melodies forgotten.







river flows in you by yiruma is an absolutely beautiful song. also misguided ghosts by paramore.

"after silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."
         - aldous huxley






photography by me.

caret initio et fine.






i'm going to miss autumn. where has the time gone?

"failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, 
missing me one place search another, 
i stop somewhere waiting for you."

            - walt whitman, song of myself




  

                               photography by me.