Without risk there is no art. Where there is no reckless display of love, there is no risk of embarrassment and no threat of rapture or genius. Dangerous flights of personal taste can be a great investment, if you have the courage of your convictions; great fashionistas often look crazy in pursuit of the sublime. To be too sane is to mark time in a purgatory of nice sweaters. Why endure such boredom?
—
(via prettylegit)
This is why fashion is my thing.
i’ll make it to the moon if i have to crawl
AHAA. Click for more.
(via tulletulle)
(via tulletulle)
(via fuckyeahheathledger)
i think i love you..
(via poladroidfreakteam)
yay extended exposure.
..or the other
O! by Anna O’Connor in Cicada Magazine
The world is so starry and dark tonight
so let’s grab hands
and run to the grass
or maybe that duck pond by the side of the road
where we caught all the fish
and threw them all back
and O! We’re glowing
so softly
so palely
and I think,
if I tried,
I could catch my heel on a bit of this starlight
and then pull you up with me
up into the sky
but no, here’s a field, the poppies all shut tight
averting their eyes, maybe from you, because
GOD you’re lovely, and it really might hurt something fragile as a flower
and O! We’re on the grass, and I’m thinking,
Maybe if we’d brought some wine,
(but I’m already drunk, I’m giddy, I’m gone, and I haven’t had even a sip of poor Chardonnay)
and the dirt is solid
and the world might as well be flat, like they’d said before What’s-His-Name came along
but your hand has brushed the hair back from my collar bone,
and I am nothing but tumbling,
tumbing,
tumbling,
and O!
