Eatmore.

"The sassy woman in the saddle shoes is my grandma Lois. This photograph was probably taken in the 40's in Yakima, Washington. Lois always spoke her mind and was sharp as a whip."
-The Sartorialist

I hope that when my grandchildren (if I have any) look at old photos of me they think pretty much the same thing

O Very Young

I've been really digging Cat Stevens lately.

(image by music philosophy)

Mmmm

As you may know, one of the biggest things on my summer to-do list is learning how to cook. I've been trolling around food blogs lately, but all of the recipes seem woefully beyond my skill level (which I would say is in the easy-mac area). There is also the whole "I dont have enough money to buy food" problem. What else is new.
Then I came across these photos of homemade gnocchi on She Eats Bears and I've decided that by the end of the summer I shall be able to make this. I mean, potatoes, pasta, and maybe even a little bit of cheese? It's like heaven on a plate.

Wish me luck.

Inky Lips.

If you know me at all, then you dont have to guess why I love these posters from Inky Lips Letterpress.

A Woman After My Own Heart.

(via oh joy!)

Places in America Print.

By Oliver Jeffers, made for You and Me the Royal We

Between.

The Land Between Here and the Mountains is a photo blog made up of pictures of journeys rather than destinations; captured images of transit, of the inbetween.

(via kitsune noir)

Ain't it a Shame.

"Ain't it a shame, when the body can't go where the heart lives"

-Mother of Pearl

(image via suzywire)

Petticoat.

I want one.

(via lookbook)

Elephantine.

Since as long as I can remember, I've never been really big on jewelry, but lately I find myself drawn to delicate, simple necklaces like these from Elephantine:

Inner World.

Photographs from the book "Inner World" by Stratis Vogiatzis.

(via pia jane)

May Days.

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason.

A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

(image via polanoid)

Dog Days.

Floral Heart.

I want this print by Rifle Paper Co. hanging in my room. Please and Thank You.

List of Things To Do This Summer:

1. Learn To Cook
2. Lay in the Grass Whenever Possible
3. Get Back on the Wagon
4. Practice Spanish
5. Make Crafts
6. Take a Roadtrip
7. Pursue Everything.

No Me Digas

My apologies for the lack in posts this past week, I was just too busy out having fun, to be honest. Today is my last day in Barcelona and I can't believe it. For a long time early in my stay here I was not sure if I had made the right choice in studying abroad, but slowly this city grew on me while my love for my home began to fade to the background for a while. The weather here is finally, mercifully beautiful, and after months of rain and cold Barcelona now seems like paradise. I spent the past week drinking cava on the beach, spending time with the dear friends I've made here, sleeping on park benches and lifeguard chairs, and watching the sunrise. Maybe this is what people rave about when they talk about semesters abroad? I am so excited to go back to the states and see the mama and my friends, but I'm surprised to find that I am mourning the loss of a part of me. I may have resisted for quite some time, but at long last I can finally say that Barcelona, I love you.

Lookin Good.

This may be the perfect spring outfit.

(via lookbook)

Give to me the sweet life

of summers and stories told.

Bring to me the Tension

of a love unsure and bold.

Give to me the mercy mild

and the way to my redemption

For in the dark I’ve asked for things

too terrible to mention

-My brilliant twin

Looking Back.

Listen! I will be honest with you;
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes;
These are the days that must happen to you:

You shall not heap up what is call’d riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d—you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction, before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you;
What beckonings of love you receive, you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you.

-Walt Whitman, excerpt from Song of the Open Road