to move up and down
p o p p y s e e d s
my inspiration mosaic
(Source: skeletales, via anthropologie)
Somerville, Mass. - June 2012
You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts.
You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth.
But that’s all.
"A daily struggle but a good reminder.
[Dear Sugar, The Rumpus (via shana-elmsford; sararenee)]
(via happyhumanramblings)
(Source: cupofchi, via themidwestspacecowgirl)
And the obsession grows. (Taken with Instagram at Symphony Hall)
Steve Martin and the Deep Canyon Rangers. Be still my heart. (Taken with Instagram at Symphony Hall)
You can take the letter-writer out of Europe, but…
(Taken with Instagram at L.A. Burdick Chocolate)
Grandpa’s Garden Eyes
In the car that I borrow because it’s the one you sit in most comfortably,
I bring you to our yellow house where the food is cooked for you.
We pass through the streets you’ve traveled for 91 years, as they are now -
but not quite like they were when you were a younger man less certain.
On the nicest day Connecticut has seen in weeks,
you gasp at the forsythia bushes insulating the pavement from the woods -
like they’ve finally arrived for you because Spring is where your heart stutters.
And they hug you hello in yellows after all these cold Winter months
that you spent watching tires make geometric shapes in parking lot snow.
With your fingers out in the space before you,
you tell me your mother kept forsythia and lilac bushes in the front yard.
I dream through our drive that, back before you fought wars, you loved them softly and
returned to them like a loyal son.
You light up when you say their names, like lilac was your home
and forsythia was your family.
I am warm where my heart holds innocence.
You love your nature and all those accidents that happen around you
as a result of living easy.
“Well, Rach -
they’re my adversaries, you know - Mother Nature and Father Time.”
You jolt me and I know this is why I love you.
Because you don’t quite remember what you did yesterday,
but you speak in poems.
What Your Ticketmaster "Order Processing Fee" Is Really Being Used For
Seeing Steve Martin’s Bluegrass/Comedy Show tonight at the Boston Symphony Hall.
This is ever-so-relevant.
(Source: justlittlethings)
There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. (Taken with instagram)
(Source: andrewbreitel, via standstricken)
Hard Cider Love (Taken with Instagram at The Red Hat)
Habit #4 of Highly Creative People #realsimple (Taken with instagram)
MY COUSIN’S KID IS CUTER THAN YOURS. (Taken with instagram)
