superfluous sincerity

My heart drowns in its own superfluous sincerity.

jem-love13:

Did you say clouds and sunsets?

(via punkprophet)

thepaperheartsociety:

Last night in Sydney, the rain was making rivers of our roads and I could not sleep. Last night my mind was so full of so much stuff that there was no doubt in my mind I only had a matter of minutes before I would actually explode. 

So I sat down. And I picked up my pen. And I put on my music. And I began to draw. 

4 hours later, at 2:30am, I had created twenty palm sized cards and a box in which to store them. During that time I had stopped only twice; once to get a cup of tea, and once to shut my window. For 4 hours my mind was empty. The only thing going through my mind was how to make the perfect shade of light blue, or which size pen to use (I settled on 0.2). I did not think once about money troubles, or rent, or work, or him, or the future, or being sick, or being sad. I was entirely at peace. 

And that’s what I make art.
That’s why I need art.

(via angryasianfeminist)

brutalgeneration:

Blinded by the Sun (by Frame_finder)

brutalgeneration:

Blinded by the Sun (by Frame_finder)

kushandwizdom:

More pictures here
brutalgeneration:

Frozen forest (by Frame_finder)

brutalgeneration:

Frozen forest (by Frame_finder)