You do what you do for the pleasure of it, and for the mystery of it.
Paul Simon
Acquired Stardust
i don't do bad sauce passes
noise dept.
Keni
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă
Mike Driver
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Not today Justin

romaâ
DEAR READER
Jules of Nature
todays bird

Show & Tell

cherry valley forever

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@teabubbles
You do what you do for the pleasure of it, and for the mystery of it.
Paul Simon

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Iâve spent most of my life thinking art would make sense of it
Jane Miller, from âA Foot Soldier Seized in Sight of His Ow Squadronâ in A Palace of Pearls (via pigmenting)
Mathematics, rightly viewed, possesses not only truth, but supreme beauty â a beauty cold and austere, like that of sculpture, without appeal to any part of our weaker nature, without the gorgeous trappings of painting or music, yet sublimely pure, and capable of a stern perfection such as only the greatest art can show. The true spirit of delight, the exaltation, the sense of being more than Man, which is the touchstone of the highest excellence, is to be found in mathematics as surely as poetry.
Bertrand Russell (via typewriterdaily)
⌠in this careless moment, in this careless moment of light.
Ruth Stone, from âEve, Alsoâ in What Love Comes To (via pigmenting)
That the self, sometimes in sleep, admits the loss, the grief, and accepts the burden of loneliness; embracing what we will not admit we long for
Ruth Stone, from âMarciaâ in What Love Comes To (via pigmenting)

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We think of the mechanics, the interchangeable selves of ourselves. The valves of the heart. Yes, the body rushing into the long white line of the divided dark.
Ruth Stone, from âOld Carsâ in What Love Comes To (via pigmenting)
I should be telling you about fireflies, the containment of light, how we work to bring it closer to us, into our bodies
Keetje Kuipers, from âWhat Afterlifeâ in Beautiful in the Mouth (via pigmenting)
Come with all your shame, come with your swollen heart, Iâve never seen anything more beautiful than you.
Warsan Shire (via featherumbrellas)
What is human existence? It turns out itâs pretty simple: We are dead stars, looking back up at the sky.
Michelle Thaller, NASA American astronomer and Research scientist (via biromanticparrish)

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I am obscure to myself. I let myself happen. I unfold only in the now. I am rudely alive.
Clarice Lispector, from Ăgua Viva (via violentwavesofemotion)
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Kait Rokowski (via featherumbrellas)
Itâs dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though youâre feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.
Aldous Huxley (via vixenelle)
Art Comparison:
Salvador DalĂ - The Meditative Rose, 1958. RenĂŠ Magritte - The Tomb of the Wrestlers, 1960.
Those years werenât lost. They simply werenât the way Iâd planned them.
Kurt Vonnegut, Letters (via breanna-lynn)

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⌠imagine! imagine! the wild and wondrous journeys still to be ours.
Mary Oliver, from âLast Night the Rain Spoke To Meâ (with thanks to hiddenshores)
The Persistence of Memory (detail) by âSalvador Dali
(via @lonequixote)