drimocares

[drimocares]

Cooking is alchemy. Singing and dancing are prayers. Speaking is casting spells. Silence is the sound of listening. Going to sleep is going to awake. Taking a shower is a ritual of cleansing. Drawing is animating imagination. Completing tasks is completing quests. All is divine.

@ akashicel

[drimocares]

Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

[drimocares]

Donna Tartt

[drimocares]

Ruby Francisco

[drimocares]

How wild is it that every version of you probably exists still, somewhere, in someone’s memory? The messy you, crying on the floor exists still in your mind. The happy, sun-soaked you, exists in your best friend’s memory. No part of you has died, all parts of us exist always, simultaneously and hidden. 

[drimocares]

having short-term memory is like. this book profoundly affected me. that show bared my soul. i don’t remember a single thing about it. but it did

[drimocares]

having short-term memory is like. this book profoundly affected me. that show bared my soul. i don’t remember a single thing about it. but it did

[drimocares]

“eternal snows littered with stars, valleys in flower offering fragrances of earth…”

— Rainer Maria Rilke, from III, 2 in “Rilke’s Book Of Hours: Love Poems To God” [translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy]

[drimocares]

the kitchen has a soul that no other room in a house has

[drimocares]

“Winter is the only true season of touching. In winters, no matter how efficiently you dress up, a raindrop will find you. Fogs will enshroud you and leave their wetness on your face. Dry, cold air will crack your lips. As you inhale, mist will touch your nostrils and the inside of your throat. You will feel winter’s touch on the backs of your ears. Winter’s physicality reaches everywhere.”

— Nikita Arora, A history of botany and colonialism touched off by a moss bed (via halcynth)

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percy "you've done more for me than my father has" jackson // kaz "no saint has watched over me like you have" brekker

[drimocares]

“Blueberries” from Devotions by Mary Oliver.

[drimocares]

the fact that laughter is contagious is so beautiful to me. like oh that made you smile? that made you happy? well then, i have no choice but to be happy with you!

[drimocares]

Draw badly. Write nonsensically. Embroider messily. Burn what you bake and cook. Get paint everywhere. Read half a book. Lose your mind for a bit. Plant things. Have faith in the process. Abandon 70 wood-carving projects. Get a kit and do some of it and never return to it. Get comfortable with sucking and losing motivation. Continue to create with reckless abandon.

[drimocares]

i saw a quote that said “i feel like i’m constantly worrying about the next part of my life without realizing that i’m right in the middle of what i used to look forward to.” and i felt that.

[drimocares]

A Wet Night, Columbus Circle, William A. Fraser, 1897-98

[drimocares]

Sometimes life is stranger than fiction, but sometimes it's incomparable in other ways. Sometimes it's heaven that the false fire of imagination could never capture.

Toshikazu Kawaguchi, Before the Coffee Gets Cold