She was way too fine for meBut of course I did approachI thought I’d break the ice a bitWith maybe two or three notesShe was way too fly from meSo I tried to grow wingsSmall laughs and paid complimentsWould maybe stretch out some things
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Writing: The Evolution Of A Shaved Head by Natalya Oliver
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About: My Art Collection - GREY MATTER
GREY MATTER || A surrealist art collection of mostly black and white watercolor (with some multimedia aspects) – painted on canvases with small pop’s of color. Grey Matter includes regions of the brain involved in sensory perception, such as seeing, hearing, memory, emotions, and speech. This collection explores what’s real and what is not – but on the inside – within the mind. The collection is one that is as equally dark as light. It is meant to take viewers through a spectrum of deep emotions. ‘Grey Matter’ is the female journey of the light and dark frequencies of consciousness, but all human beings can relate to the emotions that it brings forth. Dive into the GREY MATTER.
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The Importance of ‘Doing You’
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- Brette
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Check out my Creative Agency: STUK DESIGNS’ latest Renaissance Woman of the Month article feat. Writer and photographer Sydni Michael Davis:
(Source: romanticedge)
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Excerpt from The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath
“Do you know what a poem is, Esther?” “No, what?” I would say. “A piece of dust.” Then just as he was smiling and starting to look proud, I would say, “So are the cadavers you cut up. So are the people you think you’re curing. They’re dust as dust as dust. I reckon a good poem lasts a whole lot longer than a hundred of those people put together.” And of course Buddy (a doctor) wouldn’t have any answer to that, because what I said was true. People were made of nothing so much as dust, and I couldn’t see that doctoring all that dust was a bit better than writing poems people would remember and repeat to themselves when they were unhappy or sick and couldn’t sleep. (Source: romanticedge)
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From the indie film: Like Crazy
I thought I understood it That I could grasp it But I didn’t Not really I knew the smudgeness of it The pink-slippered-all-containered-semi-precious eagerness of it I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole The wholeness was a rather luxurious idea Because its the halves that have you in half Didn’t know Don’t know about the in between bits The gore-y bits of you And gore-y bits of me
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“Peel off the face you must wear for survival and allow yourself to be vulnerable, to be human. The result is marvelous.”
- Najma (Source: romanticedge)
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Watch…
Watch your thoughts, they become your words. Watch your words, they become your actions. Watch your actions, they become your habits. Watch your habits, they become your character. Watch your character, for that becomes your destiny.
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Amorous - Jesse Boykins III
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The Beauty of Now
I sit in a hot tub overlooking golden fields. Green bushes and full trees stretch out to a horizon that meets the pacific ocean. I feel blessed. I carefully scribble down words in my notebook so not to splatter chlorified water on them. I breathe. I take in the present moment. Just me, warm water, and stream gracefully rising up, and dancing around the pool. I continue to breathe In and out. My dog sits on the wooden steps of the balcony impatiently waiting for me to throw a ball. I chuck the ball into the dense field and sit back into my silence. The lower half of my body submerged under water, as summer winds curl around my upper half. I am at peace. I sip my glass of red wine and breathe In and out. Can I bottle up the beauty of this moment in a glass jar? Can this moment last forever? No moment ever does. But presence awaken senses. I absorb every inch of this moment. Wiggling my toes as the hot water strips them of gravity and they float. Up and down. I am. My eyes fixate on the airy cotton candy clouds infused with translucent pink’s and grey’s. They hover softly over the horizon… meeting the ocean. I never feel closer to my source than when I am here. At this house. Soaking in the beauty of now.
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![]() Artist: Brette Sims |
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