forest clash
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light


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forest clash
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northmagneticpole:

Anna Topuriya textiles for Villa Lena, photo by Coke Bartrina 
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northmagneticpole:

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lauracallaghanillustration:

More comix :) 
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happy birthday my @mad_mar i miss people thinking i am you.
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robkulisek:

Eckhaus Latta Webstore Coming Soon
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"Narrative structure is prison; it is tradition; it is a lie; it is a formula that is imposed."
Dušan Makavejev (via strangeapparition)
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jellygummies:

Need a notepad for school or something? I’ve got you covered