03/21/2010 § 1 Comment
“Stories, like people and butterflies and songbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger or more lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or they are words on the air, composed of sounds and ideas – abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken – and what could be more frail than that? But some stories, small, simple ones about setting out on adventures or people doing wonders, tales of miracles and monsters, have outlasted all the people who told them, and some of them have outlasted the lands in which they were created.”
03/20/2010 § Leave a comment
03/13/2010 § Leave a comment
it rains but the dreams are slowly returning.
another part of me is quiet tonight, for the empty chair a stranger left behind. we never met, but i could see what she saw. she saw such beautiful things, it makes the heart even heavier. she was only a year older. and now what ? what else can you do but fight even harder to make it worth it ? that’s what she’d want from other dreamers, i think.
03/11/2010 § Leave a comment
hm, i haven’t been here in a while. i’ve withdrawn into myself a little bit i think. though the social obligations are still there, always there. but if i could look like emmanuelle alt in balmain on a cold day in paris, i wouldn’t mind so much. ps balmain, i like this jacket more than anything else you’ve made.
garance / sart / j&j