~ Bianca Sparacino, "The Strength In Our Scars"

yes yes I am obsessed with remus lupin rey rey wolf mcwerewolf little moony moonpie the love of my life, what else is new?

okay I'm kinda obsessed with this.

Breaking my Hate

Every time i hear or see someone showing off bands of gold or silver

Detailing the reasons for having them and how it fits their promise to one another

I frown

Internally groaning

All at their foolishness

Rings of promise were also meant as a 

Visual

Material pact

To save one’s body for their intended.

These bands when I lay my gaze upon them

Tell me that the wearers will wait ‘til their wedding day

to go beyond tender kissing and

Gentle touches.

Time has allowed this meaning 

to fall apart at the seams

It’s simply a way to 

Cheapen love

Another capitalization on our humanly affections

Another object, useful to avoid the solidity of spirits

I’ve grown exasperated by the notion

However

When i think towards my future

I think of you

Faceless yet cheeks flushed with kindness

I dream of hushed tones

Soft laughter

Whispered promises

And silver rings

When i think about you

I realize that breaking my hate

Against those 

Small, silver promises

Is very well worth it

I cannot stand promise rings

But i could come to love it

If my promise is to you.

{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz }

Macu Anelo

Born in Cádiz (Spain), I now live in the Canary Islands.

I am a plastic and visual artist and a (secondary school) teacher of art and design.

Throughout my professional life, I have combined teaching with my artistic work,trying to make both activities benefit from each other. I first came into contact with photography when I began my Arts Degree (at the university of Sevilla). I started working with analogue photography but I gradually moved to digital photography.

Hand of Midas by Clayshaper

Dianxi Xiaoge: One Fruit for a Table — Rock Sugar Heart Apple

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.]

1. Joan of Arc, 1865, by John Everett Millais.

2. Kate Bush in Joanni

it is said women’s cycles sync with the moon; are we all in harmony with her elegant beauty, carrying the world’s rhythm inside ourselves?