Wanderings & Wonderings

Ask me anything   "for whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea." - ee Cummings


On Aura Tout Vu Haute Couture Fall Winter 2014/15 Collection

(via fear-is-needless)

— 3 months ago with 8415 notes

Dear daughter,

This letter has taken an extraordinary time getting itself together. I have all along known that I wanted to tell you directly of some of the lessons I have learned and under what conditions I have learned them.

My life has been long, and believing that life loves the lovers of it, I have dared go try many things, sometimes trembling, but daring, still. I have only included here events and lessons which I have found useful. I have not told how I have used the solutions, knowing that you are intelligent and creative and resourceful and you will use them as you see fit.

You will find in this book accounts of growing up, unexpected emergencies, a few poems, some light stories to make you laugh and some to make you meditate.

There have been people in my life who meant me well, taught me valuable lessons, and others who have meant me ill and, have given me ample notification that my world is not meant to be all peaches and cream.

I have made many mistakes and no doubt will make more before I die. When I have seen pain, when I have found that my ineptness has caused displeasure, I have learned to accept my responsibility and to forgive myself first, then to apologize to anyone injured by my mis reckoning. Since I cannot unlive history, and repentance is all I can offer God, I have hopes that my sincere apologies were accepted.

You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them. Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. Do not complain. Make every effort to change things you do not like. If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution.

Never whine. Whining lets a brute know that a victim is in the neighbourhood.

Be certain that you do not die without have done something wonderful for humanity.

I gave birth to one child, a son, but I have thousands of daughters. You are black and white, Jewish and Muslim, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American and Aleut. You are fat and thin and pretty and plain, gay and straight, educated and unlettered, and I am speaking to you all. Here is my offering to you.

Maya Angelou, Letter to my Daughter (via coffeestainedheart)

(Source: heavensarcher, via queermarisa)

— 3 months ago with 399 notes
http://misandristhyena.tumblr.com/post/91456428610/sea-change-mary-fucking-shelley-oh-im-a →


MARY FUCKING SHELLEY. ’oh, i’m a nineteen year old female in a world where females are basically valued only as mothers, grieving over the loss of my child, disowned by my father, in dire financial straights, stuck in a country that’s not my own, ignored and cheated on by my…

(via queermarisa)

— 3 months ago with 16384 notes


"Well, I'm getting happier all the time, which is very nice"

- Ringo Starr

Happy Birthday Ringo Starr!

July 7, 1940 - 

(Source: peepperland, via goosberrye)

— 3 months ago with 225 notes
Under the Weather →


I’ll never send this letter, please keep that in mind -
The pen is dying, the paper wet - I can barely see the lines
Unworthy conditions for any piece of literature.

A biting breeze and a blanket of fog -
It never really goes away, so I can’t see the water -
Though I remember it.

— 3 months ago with 140 notes

There are no Jack Kerouacs or Holden Caulfields for girls. Literary girls don’t take road-trips to find themselves; they take trips to find men.

"Great" books, as defined by the Western canon, didn’t contain female protagonists I could admire. In fact, they barely contained female protagonists at all.

— 3 months ago with 60070 notes
"Old friends, winter companions, the old men Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun The sounds of the city sifting through trees Settles like dust on the shoulders of the
 old friends” 
Rainer Maria Rilke and Auguste Rodin, early 1900s
photo credits: www.musee-rodin.fr


"Old friends, winter companions, the old men 
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun 
The sounds of the city sifting through trees 
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the

old friends” 

Rainer Maria Rilke and Auguste Rodin, early 1900s

photo credits: www.musee-rodin.fr


— 4 months ago with 2 notes
#Simon and Garfunkel  #Bookends  #Old Friends  #Rodin  #Rilke  #Kinship  #Art  #Literature  #Lyrics 




In the late 1960’s, photographer Arthur Tress began a series of photographs that were inspired by the dreams of children. Tress had each child he approached tell him about a prominent dream of theirs which Tress would then artistically re-create and photograph with the child as the main subject. 


— 4 months ago with 91447 notes

I sat at your feet;
metaphorically, of course, only metaphorically;
as I remember it, I sat on the couch,
as you, with your strangely lilting voice,
held my hand and walked me through;



the pitiless steps of the reverent ritual.

You were so gentle
as you wrapped the tourniquet around my bicep;
laughed at the expression on my face
pinched the crook of my arm
to bruise and raise a vein.
and as you slid the needle in and we watched the blood
cloud the water inside,

you apologized, profusely,

for the infinitesimal pinprick

that precedes the rapture.

I swore to you,
in that ghastly and gorgeous moment,
this is how it would always be;

that you would be there,

by my side, every time,

to guide me down the path of night.
But like the other oaths that passed between us,
this too, was a hopeful lie.

The day came, as it was


destined to do,
that you were gone;
selling yourself
in the fashion required
for you to get by;
and the pull of oblivion
proved stronger, by far,
than either love or trust or art,

so I took the syringe and

taught myself

not to need you anymore.


Max Mundan, Outgrowing my Mentor

© David Rutter 2014

(via maxmundan)

— 4 months ago with 173 notes