Oh this heavy heart is missing you around

This following seemed like an apt thought to describe the current and upcoming post grad life.

Post title from from My Live, My Love by Family and Friends, a lovely band I saw in Chicago last weekend.



I've been walking through the mountains, I've wandered through the trees

I love this home in Antwerp. It is so simple and full of light. I found the photographs through Eefje de Coninck who views an individual's decoration and home as an artistic expression of that person's character. Check out more photographs and the interview here.

Post title from She Lit a Fire by Lord Huron.




Curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight



We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us 
something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. 
Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight 
or any experience that reveals the human spirit.

e. e. cummings

Photo by rose & crown.

Made my way to the dance floor, danced til I wasn't drunk anymore

This is quite a cute coffee shop in Singapore called The Reading Room, and I would very much like to go, sit and read. Books, coffee, city, architecture, sounds perfect to me.

Photos from Cafehopping. Post title from Is Your Love Big Enough? by Lianne La Havas.





Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Poem by Mary Oliver
Photography by Olivia Rae James.

She pulls on this heart like she pulls on the sea

Oooh. Travel photographer, Sivan Askayo, took beautiful images of hanging laundry in different cities in his series, Intimacy under the Wires. It reminds me of staying with my grandmother during the summers growing up; the laundry was always hung out the window to dry. One time my t-shirt fell down onto the apartment below, and it was quite the struggle to get it back.

 Barcelona
 Florence
 Venice
 Buenos Aires

 Post title from That Moon Song by Gregory Alan Isakov.

Where the lights don't move and the colors don't fade

The southwest corner of Foster and Orrington. I hated that one corner during the wintertime. Those darn students renting that house never ever shoveled and it left a build up of ice looming in front of the sidewalk. Actually I preferred when it was frozen because then my feet didn’t get wet. Every single time I needed to go anywhere I had to cross that stretch of ice/slush. I'd do anything to avoid it, walking on the ice around it or crossing the street a good amount to avoid shoe damage.

Last week when I left my college apartment for the last time, I realized that the ice puddle wasn’t there anymore. It hadn’t been there for a long time. That one corner, the bane of my existence in the winter, had slowly returned to concrete and grass. Yet I hadn’t given it a second thought when the snow was melting. I’d forgotten to be thankful for the easy walking that warmer weather had brought.





























Lying in bed in my old room. Post title from Stay Alive by José González.

You're fierce and spread like wildfires

I love this. I tried getting off coffee two years ago, but it didn't last long. It seems like an anchor to me, every morning wherever I wake up I must have a cup of coffee. Well that and if I don't, I get a massive headache. If I go on a trip, I'd love to take a picture of my coffee every morning as documentation. My sister did something similar on our trip to London last summer; she took a picture of her feet in various areas. It is a nice change from the standard tourist pictures of monuments... well we took those too of course :)

Post title from Wildfires by Ohbijou. Photos by Olivia Rae James.





To live is to be slowly born



A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. 

To live is to be slowly born.


Antoine de Saint-Exupéry