“In Other Words, The Future Is Uncertain.”

Snow - Ton van Steenbergen

Dutch, b. 1962 -

Pastel , 50 x 40 cm.

at work today after a snowstorm ❅

‘honeymoon’ ph. inés chable for delude magazine, 2023

Suddenly it's December

and you're not seventeen anymore.

And you haven't been seventeen for a very long time,

but sometimes you need to remind yourself.

- Margaux paul

On soft spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars — something good will come out of all things yet— and it will be golden and eternal just like that — there's no need to say another word.

Jack Kerouac, big sur

don’t want to be a girl i want to be a single star in the night sky shining so bright all the way to lonely people who look up and hope to see a sign

beginning of a snow storm, 2004

꧁★꧂

in dedication to summer rain and the smell of petrichor

In December, our conversations become longer; everybody acts surprised by how quickly the year came to an end when we all know how. We talk about being better next year, we write resolutions but never fulfil the ones we wrote the previous year. The season turns extreme, leaves don't fall anymore, they die on their branches. Some people await the holidays while some fear how different or similar their life will be next year (they always fear the latter) In December we realize that life is fickle and death might come uninvited.