Anyone else think patina – be it patina of bronze or patina of face – is the most beautiful thing in the world?

Where do scents take you?

It’s there. In the spaces between the raindrops, in the inky depths of the shadows outside our windows at night.

Isn’t it funny how seemingly random things become connected in our minds?

Some plants are just more romantic than others.

Like a clock, petals tell the passing of time.

Imperfections are what is beautiful.

I used to not like my hands, blocky and sturdy with thick knuckles, not dainty and delicate in the least. I always thought mine were better suited for a plow than a piano.

We’re only here for a little while, but some part of us remains forever.

Every story is important. Especially the forgotten ones.