sketchmedesire:

Moving without Mom via today.com

When Ben Nunery and his wife Ali got married in 2009, they had just closed on their new house, so they took the opportunity to take their wedding photos in the empty home. Just four and a half years later, after Ali’s tragic death from cancer at at the age of 31 in 2011, Ben and his young daughter Olivia got ready to move to a new house, but they wanted to say goodbye to the old one. So they recreated these special photos from Ben and Ali’s wedding day, as a way to remember the happy times.

Waterfalls are coming out of my face???

sketchmedesire:

Moving without Mom via today.com

When Ben Nunery and his wife Ali got married in 2009, they had just closed on their new house, so they took the opportunity to take their wedding photos in the empty home. 

Just four and a half years later, after Ali’s tragic death from cancer at at the age of 31 in 2011, Ben and his young daughter Olivia got ready to move to a new house, but they wanted to say goodbye to the old one. So they recreated these special photos from Ben and Ali’s wedding day, as a way to remember the happy times.

Waterfalls are coming out of my face???


One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.
Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums (via durianquotes)

(Source: durianseeds)


10588
Jul 07
Y. That perfect letter. The wishbone, fork in the road, empty wineglass. The question we ask over and over.
Marjorie Celona, Y (via petrichour)

(Source: larmoyante)


I was either in love or I had smallpox.: At the Window

I was either in love or I had smallpox.: Unidentified

78
May 29
339 plays

16179
May 17

37946
May 17

“My mother boils seawater. It sits all afternoon simmering on the stovetop, almost two gallons in a big soup pot. The windows steam up and the house smells like a storm. In the evening, a crust of salt is all that’s left at the bottom of the pot. My mother scrapes it out with a spoon. We each lick a fingertip and dip them in the salt and it’s softer than you’d think, less like sand and more like snow. We lay our fingertips on our tongues, right in the middle. It tastes like salt but like something else, too—wide, and dark. It tastes like drowning, or like falling asleep on the shore and only waking up when the tide has come up to your feet and you wonder if you’d gone on sleeping, would you have sunk?”

The Alchemy: Salt from Water

(Source: luminoussea)


124057
May 17

meme4u:

98 year old dobri dobrev, a man who lost his hearing in the second world war, walks 10 kilometers from his village in his homemade clothes and leather shoes to the city of sofia, where he spends the day begging for money.

though a well recognized fixture around several of the city’s chruches, known for his prostrations of thanks to all donors, it was only recently discovered that he has donated every penny he has collected — over 40,000 euros — towards the restoration of decaying bulgarian monasteries and churches and the utility bills of orphanages, living entirely off his monthly state pension of 80 euros and the kindness of others.


59172
May 13

kkkill:

each prayer accepted and each wish resigned

(Source: jinkneap)