we could ride all day with French music playing on cassette and flowers in the basket of our bikes. the wind would dance through my hair and we'd stop at every mountains peak to take pictures. pictures we'd never forget.
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Happiness is in the quiet, ordinary things. A table, a chair, a book with a paper-knife stuck between the pages. And the petal falling from the rose, and the light flickering as we sit silent. ~Virginia Woolf, "The Waves"
photo blog for chronicling my immeasurably fascinating dysfunctions, neuroses, emotions, inner self, moments of beauty and rebellion, self loathing, and my completely normal insanity. I appreciate you following or visiting my blog.