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In The Wind par S⊙ph̷̤͝ia Dange̴͍̠͆r Via Flickr : Curtains wrapped in window, abandoned homestead

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Italian architect Roberto Baciocchi’s scarlet and violet bedroom in Tuscany, Italy

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by Montana and Skagerak.

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I SHALL RETURN

I shall return again; I shall return To laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyes At golden noon the forest fires burn, Wafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies. I shall return to loiter by the streams That bathe the brown blades of the bending grasses, And realize once more my thousand dreams Of waters rushing down the mountain passes. I shall return to hear the fiddle and fife Of village dances, dear delicious tunes That stir the hidden depths of native life, Stray melodies of dim remembered runes. I shall return, I shall return again, To ease my mind of long, long years of pain.

– Claude McKay.

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“I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.”

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Friends, Family, and Editors

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Untitled, 2010, Alfredo Rapetti. born in Milan in 1961 - Oil on canvas Laid down on Board -

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Untitled (Figure at a window), 1950’s, Leon Levinstein. American (1910 - 1988) - Gelatin silver print -

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Riding a bicycle freehanded, Zurich, Switzerland, 1946, René Groebli. Swiss, born in 1927

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White Cranes, Walter Leistikow (1865 - 1908) - Oil on Canvas -

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The Solitude, Ferdinand Valent. born in 1942 He who has no house now will never build again. He who’s now alone will stay alone a long time. — Rainer Maria Rilke “Herbsttag”

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“Stupidity has a knack of getting its way”

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Everyday is like Sunday, Viktor Pivovarov

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Movie poster of the week, Wylie Beckert

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I am unbelievably awkward, a social disaster, and irritatingly passive most of the time. And I'm crazy grateful to have people who could actually get through that garbage and care about me anyway. They're just a few, but they're my magic few.♥️

Submitted by @blackunicornwithawhitealicorn

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“We operate all the time with language as if it says what we mean. It never does, but you don’t realize the flaccidity of that until you are actually trying to make one thing in one language into another language. It’s like being on the surface with a lot of cracks in it and looking down through the cracks to something like another world down there that you can almost see, almost express, but not quite.”

— Anne Carson, in an interview with Eleanor Watchel for Writers & Company