A print.

I want this print.

Beyond.

Today's poem on The Writer's Almanac is just beyond.

"The Past"

by Nin Andrews

If she closed her eyes, she could see it
in the dark room of her mind,
the jukebox of her soul
developing so slowly,
she especially liked the way
he said the word, blouse,
when he unbuttoned her
silk blouse, blue blouse, flowered blouse,
his favorite one was pink
and hung on a green lamp
like a flower on a stem
now that he was gone,
and so was she
and no one lived there anymore,
the town kept lighting up without them
as if it were the first dusk.

Word of the moment.

su·sur·rous adj. \su̇-ˈsər-əs, -ˈsə-rəs\: full of whispering sounds

Bonjour.

I really want this shirt and I don't think I need to explain why.

Words: a video/visual collage

WORDS from Everynone on Vimeo.

Jot it down.

Image from Stockholm Street Style

I love the way words look written on forearms. I often write on my right forearm--mostly lyrics or quotes that are stuck in my head--because I love being able to look down and re-read them. Graceful script on skin. The only reason I wouldn't tattoo words there is because I'd never be able to decide on what one set to make permanent.

"Improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings..."
"Dreams are necessary to life."
"We are an impossibility in an impossible universe."

There are just too many beautiful phrases.