“In the end, the basic ingredients of existence never falter, whether you’re flying business or red-eye economy, or staying home.” Erin at outerNotes reflects on the lifestyle of a worldly jet-setter and wonders whether she’s “made it.”
lets say i discovered pinterest a few months after the hype about it was over and i was officially under the rock as usual, lol ! ok so i started becoming with pinterest to the point where i thought it was part of my checklist of life to fulfil most pointers ideas, haha none till date has worked out probably because I’m too lazy to actually do it. my gallery of people on pinterest is awesome though i have to do a little of self praisal here, as usual i have a test coming up but pinterresy here we come
a link to a beautiful gallery you won’t regret it,
I will probably do a whole post on a sad news that struck me badly about Raudha’s death and a gallery to celebrate her life.
and BYe !
Thoughts from Sonia Boue: “My humanness is not other — it is a parallelogram of your humanness. A mirror in which to see yourself (at times).”
Sometimes I have no idea of what to put on my watercolor paper. Today was one of those days. I like drawing lines with my dip pen (more so with the broad tipped nibs than the more narrow tips). My pen strokes weren’t as smooth as I would have liked. Instead of fullness of convex […]
i can’t even begin to imagine where the time flew to , it just went by like a snap this blog is officially two years old, i know i have been MIA for the past few months but I’m back and better hopefully.
my special thanks from the bottom of my heart yes !( you, you know the
half hearted thank you) to all my readers from the thoughts club
Dear Lady Justice, You are here without a summons. Voices insist you be taken upstairs to crowds waiting to watch you, hear you proclaim their imperative. Refuse, at last, dirty from use, long stationed in rooms of churning bile and duty shirked. Move outside now free as spring’s robins. Have […]
Dear Lady Justice,
You are here without a summons.
Voices insist you be taken
upstairs to crowds waiting
to watch you, hear you proclaim
their imperative. Refuse, at last,
dirty from use, long stationed in rooms
of churning bile and duty shirked.
Move outside now free as spring’s robins.
Have nothing of these scripted circuses.
Search for space not up for auction
by men who claim you without scales,
without blindfold. Rip off that gown,
grey, tattered, and go among trees
thin as girls’ legs. See small waving
fronds, the hands of children who need you
to pick them up right now and run.
Copyright 2017 Billy Clem