Coffee Escapism

Ask me anything   Ryan. 19. Photography. Perpetual Love of Metaphors. Poetry. For the First Time Since The Last Time

karamazove:

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  (1900-1944)   — French aristocrat, writer, poet, and pioneering aviator, author of “The Little Prince”

karamazove:

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  (1900-1944)   — French aristocrat, writer, poet, and pioneering aviator, author of “The Little Prince”

— 11 hours ago with 52 notes
lapetitewallflower:

Stolen Souls
Made with acrylics 

lapetitewallflower:

Stolen Souls

Made with acrylics 

— 11 hours ago with 1 note
John Darnielle of the illustrious The Mountain Goats. I got cough in a flash blizzard getting home and had to spend the night in a motel, but it was beyond worth it. There isn’t another songwriter alive who could move a crowd like that. Thanks for a brilliant night far from home.  #themountaingoats

John Darnielle of the illustrious The Mountain Goats. I got cough in a flash blizzard getting home and had to spend the night in a motel, but it was beyond worth it. There isn’t another songwriter alive who could move a crowd like that. Thanks for a brilliant night far from home. #themountaingoats

— 21 hours ago with 1 note
#themountaingoats 
Rain by the window seat. Rain is music accompanying the hiss of the tape deck, and the water coming in through holes in the masonry. Such is my Tuesday.

Rain by the window seat. Rain is music accompanying the hiss of the tape deck, and the water coming in through holes in the masonry. Such is my Tuesday.

— 1 day ago
Got a new tape in the mail today. It’s lovely ukulele music and melancholic singing. It’s all things that glow well on magnetic tape driving the VU meter. #cassette #foureyes #music #indie

Got a new tape in the mail today. It’s lovely ukulele music and melancholic singing. It’s all things that glow well on magnetic tape driving the VU meter. #cassette #foureyes #music #indie

— 2 days ago with 1 note
#indie  #music  #foureyes  #cassette 
Joto in the first nights of spring. #skidmore #spring #night #lights

Joto in the first nights of spring. #skidmore #spring #night #lights

— 3 days ago with 1 note
#spring  #skidmore  #lights  #night 
Foggy night at Skidmore.  #skidmore #night #fog

Foggy night at Skidmore. #skidmore #night #fog

— 4 days ago
#skidmore  #fog  #night 
Holi festival in the great white north. Awesome.

Holi festival in the great white north. Awesome.

— 5 days ago with 3 notes

Animated artwork by Rebecca Mock

Fine, detailed and subtle animated artwork created by New York illustrator Rebecca Mock. Apparently the animated gif back to stay, gradually more and more people are exploring this old format and customers asking for shouting. Several of these illustrations were created for the New York Times or The Warlus magazine.

(Source: silentgiantla, via kayleyhyde)

— 6 days ago with 103876 notes

"I am done, with broken hopes and vessels, shattered bones and sleeping missiles. Falling down the stairs, and pretending not to care."
A line from Mat Carmichale’s awesome song, “Sleeping Missiles”. 

That song brings me back to a time that on occasion is good to think of, in its dream of what life could be and was when I was so young. An old sunlight pouring in through the windows of my high school, illuminating the floating dust… 

It seems an old and odd memory now, but I remember coffee at two am made with almond milk in the island kitchen of someone I haven’t heard from in years, and seeing movies with my first honest-to-God friends in that place. Afterward we made the late night rush in your minivan down Woods Hole road to catch the last ferry. I can remember you taking notes during movies in a tiny notebook on a rainy afternoon in spring. 

Back then Falmouth still remained an unexplored ancient city, of winding streets and shopfronts; high school was just beginning in earnest. Life begetting songs on uncut guitar strings in the shadow of the window seats by the lockers. I watched that dust fall on the well-loved and worn wooden construction, listening to the air drive the ever-present sound of the windmill. I felt the sun beat down with ever strengthening warmth, signaling the approach of summer once more. Nothing, it seemed to my young mind then, could have happened any other way. Now, it seems, I couldn’t have wished for anything better.

— 1 week ago with 1 note
#Poetry  #music