"And yet the only exciting life is an imaginary one"
Virginia Woolf
So much of my time is spent with my head in books, and unfortunately that's school books not reading ones, that I forget about the simple simplicities in life.
Literature class got us to start a thought journal and it opened my head up to all the things I forget. I think so many weird things, yet in the end everything I think and write down has some sort of meaning. And it sorts out my head. Puts all my ideas onto paper. And inspires me.
I was actually inspired to head outside and take photos. I never usually take photos of nature. My folio consists of only people and their sinful ways. But I looked out my window and this was just too beautiful to miss.
There's just something about it that makes me feel so calm and serene. Blissful ignorance of the rest of this ridiculously murdered world.
Dance awaits,
and I shall depart.
C ;x
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