Sorry about the bony elbows.
You are not beautiful, exactly.
You are beautiful, inexactly.
You let a weed grow by the mulberry
And a mulberry grow by the house.
So close, in the personal quiet
Of a windy night, it brushes the wall
And sweeps away the day till we sleep.
A child said it, and it seemed true:
"Things that are lost are all equal."
But it isn't true. If I lost you,
The air wouldn't move, nor the tree grow.
Someone would pull the weed, my flower.
The quiet wouldn't be yours. If I lost you,
I'd have to ask the grass to let me sleep.
Aww cuteness. Unfortunately it’s totally fucking pouring and gross and I am cool being @ work but any other day.
samantha-x:(via peacelovekaos)
epic.
How artists conduct business.
Mick is my new business hero. In this terse letter he congratulates his coworker, he sets expectations, he advises w/o directing and takes the pitfalls of the compensation issue entirely off the table. I sincerely aspire to lead/create/live like this.
PS the date in the upper right corner is my birthday. MAYBE HE KNEW.
Wish I was here.
Portofino, ItalySomeone teach me Italian and send me back where I belong.
