Reading On Rainy Days

Émile Vernon

French, 1872-1919

“fuck you, my child is completely fine” your child wants to mysteriously disappear and start a new life in a victorian castle in the middle of nowhere.

✧･ﾟ: * M O S S *:･ﾟ✧

Winter Palace, Russia

Do you ever think about how many of the items now considered priceless artifacts were once commonplace items? The coins we now marvel at from behind the glass at a museum were once tossed around, stepped on, and traded around. The pottery painstakingly pieced back together was somebody’s favorite wine jug. The decorative pin now rusted and bent once held together the shoulder of someone’s chiton. History is simply a trail of ordinary people going about their day, and I think there’s an odd sort of beauty in that.

rainy day ⛈️

Might fuck around and create a fantasy world in my mind to distract myself from the pressures of reality.

"Dancing in a swirl,

Of golden memories,

The loveliest lies of all,

The loveliest, lies of all."

a study of the moon