Booker / Boo - Nineteen - Any Pronouns - Gemini - Canadian-Vietnamese - Writer

Albertine Bookstore, NYC

be poetic. if you find the way the light falls through your window and onto your bedroom wall pretty, write about it. call it soft and golden as sunlit honey. if it makes you glad to be alive then it’s not silly. you look for the beauty of things, be proud of that. say the heavy rain is kissing you. write about the glow of the moon, the dancing of flowers. make your world magical. collect your metaphors and treasure them.

please be gentle to your pets, they trust you so much and believe that whatever youre doing for them is the best thing. they trust you to be kind and benevolent. small critter or otherwise, you have the trust of this animal, and i implore you to be gentle and decent. don’t betray that trust

Incoming cloud.

wtf is going on <3

Cities are smells: Acre is the smell of iodine and spices. Haifa is the smell of pine and wrinkled sheets. Moscow is the smell of vodka on ice. Cairo is the smell of mango and ginger. Beirut is the smell of the sun, sea, smoke, and lemons. Paris is the smell of fresh bread, cheese, and derivations of enchantment. Damascus is the smell of jasmine and dried fruit. Tunis is the smell of night musk and salt. Rabat is the smell of henna, incense and honey. A city that cannot be known by its smell is unreliable. Exiles have a shared smell: the smell of longing for something else; a smell that remembers another smell. A painting, nostalgic that guides you, like a worn tourist map, to the smell of the original place. A smell is a memory and a setting sun. Sunset, here, is beauty rebuking the stranger. But to love the sunset is not, as they say, one of the attributes of exile.

Mahmoud Darwish, In the Presence of Absence (via yesyes)

For my 3D production class I had to create a three shot short that was a remake of an existing movie scene- with muppets. I ran out of time to do the particle water effects, but this is basically Pacific Rim anyway.