I seriously have days where I do not feel capable of getting up and leaving my bed, but then I think “Pablo and Frida probably had moments like this. But they did amazing things and still had beautiful, scary and boundless thoughts. They created things that I am constantly in awe of. And if they could get up despite having days like this, then I should be able to summon their love and encouraging energy (that I know is still left in this world) and get up now.” And then I lay there for two or three more minutes and finally get up.
Art is wild. Art is everything. I can honestly say I would not exist right now if it weren’t for art. I have sobbed over pieces and angrily struggled with so many different works of art. I have left places because of the emotions or impressions it caused. And I can honestly say that I have never felt passion in anything like I do with art- experiencing it, creating it, admiring it, etc. other than in beautifully rare occasions when passion and intimacy intertwine outside of art.
omfg. that’s so crazy. horses are powerful beings and should be respected highly!!!(that means don’t ride them- they aren’t a mechanical mode of transportation or toys. be nice to horses, don’t ride them.)
I feel like we’ve all known a girl in elementary school that was obsessed with horses
I wish bill nye was my dad
sounds I like:
-when trains are slowing down, heard from a far off distance.
-the *pink* a bat makes when it hits a baseball.
-the soft noise my dogs collar makes when she moves.
-when my neighbor’s screen doors slam shut.
-my shoes scraping against rough concrete steps.
-a match being lit.
-water boiling on the stove