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Snood Time
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This morning there’s snow everywhere. We remark on it.
You tell me you didn’t sleep well. I say
I didn’t either. You had a terrible night. “Me too.”
We’re extraordinarily calm and tender with each other
as if sensing the other’s rickety state of mind.
As if we knew what the other was feeling. We don’t,
of course. We never do. No matter.
It’s the tenderness I care about. That’s the gift
this morning that moves and holds me.
Same as every morning.
Raymond Carver, “The Gift” (via letters-to-nobody)
rachmaninoffs reblogged
abandonedandurbex
An agave growing massive in this long-abandoned greenhouse [1024x768]
rachmaninoffs reblogged
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『 猫城主ぶちまる 』 The cat lord of a castle –Buchimaru
136㎜×121㎜ 2017年 鈴木博雄 Hiroo Suzuki
HirooSuzuki https://www.patreon.com/hiroo_suzuki
rachmaninoffs reblogged
rachmaninoffs reblogged
sunsets
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mauveflwrs
Pablo Picasso Trois Baigneuses, 1924
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The Wait, Six N. Five
Source: 389
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Homage to Koson Ohara[dancing fox ]◎
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Happy Ides of March, my dudes
absolutely referenced from this statue of mr julius caesar
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kiarakirai-deactivated20200605
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Günther Uecker, March 13, 1930 / 2019
(image: Günther Uecker, Optische Partitur Ulm, 2000)
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Natasha Lyonne photographed by Annabel Mehran for Tablet Magazine.
rachmaninoffs reblogged
What does the God of your childhood look like? A soft apparition pigeoned in the attic,
a wound eating you one year at a time?
— Rachel McKibbens, from “outhouse,” published in Vinyl
Source: vinylpoetryandprose.com