(Source: cardboardlife)
thechinesecharacterforstupidity:
It’s about fucking time, World.
smoochie boops!
(Source: dumbuglypieceofshityouwillforget)
sometimes i look at my cartoons and i sort of think they offer me a clue as to why i don’t have a girlfriend.
Emerson’s house and Walden Pond
I’m really fond of the New England transcendentalists
the graves of Thoreau and Emerson at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.
Thoreau’s last words were “Now comes good sailing” then followed by “moose” and “Indian “.
mythical creatures popping out.~
“Folk-lore means that the soul is sane, but that the universe is wild and full of marvels.” G.K. Chesterton
she stared out of the window wistfully, meditating on the thought of getting away from human civilization and instead forging a life in the wilderness. her complete disenchantment with society could be traced back, almost directly, to that one time she read “my side of the mountain” in the third…
:3 thank you! you’re right, grocery shopping for healthy snacks is exhausting!!
my brother graduated from Amherst College with a degree in economics and a degree in psychology, and now he is near the end of completing his clinical internship with Duke medical, and in about two months he will defend his dissertation and will (hopefully) be awarded his doctorate. He will then start his postdoc for a private practice. He is going places!!!
(i’m near the end of drawing a cartoon of mythical creatures coming out of people torsos… i’m going places too, like to the grocery store to pick up some hummus and carrots.)
but I’m proud of my brother, he is one smart cookie and also very caring, and he is going to be a brilliant clinical psychologist.
room creatures~ rooms meeting up with other rooms.
“sometimes, we remember our bedrooms and our parent’s bedrooms and the bedrooms of our friends” Arcade Fire
note to self: to have a successful tumblr blogging experience remember to post something every ten days or so
“most of us are tied to the external world by a kind of nervous vigilance; we are afraid what would happen if we let go.” Colin Wilson
when i was younger i would feel a greater need to write my thoughts down but my real life seems to drift away from words. what can i say of the richness of inner experience, or receptiveness to the world that transcends you but you still exist in relationship to?- i can’t communicate wonder, mystery, magic- those words are ineffectual but important reminders my life to some degree revolves around feeling these things.
my life is an interior life, spirituality is what is most important to me, i know i want my spirituality to be rooted in everyday life, the seasons, the birds, the trees, the wind, the horizon, dusk, the moon, the vast and ancient mystery that surrounds everything, the simplicity of being aware of the poetic. just words again- but also guideposts.
i felt the need to lay on the floor and just allow myself to drift deep away into a place, where i could life just isn’t absurd but more rich and infinite i could ever rationally know-
anyway, the beauty of sky, of the landscape, thinking of dreams and the psyche, feeling something expansive beyond my self, feeling connected, feeling quiet, i gladly make more room and space for this sort of experience. i am surprised by my desire to write my thoughts down.