u n l e a s h e d

Why does on leash and unleash sound similar, and do they bring to mind thoughts of freedom, prison, or both?

o F F E R I N G

“She turned, and saw a great white moon looking at her over the hill. And her breast opened to it, she was cleaved like a transparent jewel to its light. She stood filled with the full moon, offering herself. Her two breasts opened to make way for it, her body opened wide like a quivering anemone, a soft, dilated invitation touched by the moon.” ― D.H. Lawrence

a p a r t

“Here, when I say I never want to be without you, somewhere else I am saying I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you in each of the places we meet, in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying and resurrected. When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life, in each place and forever” ― Bob Hicok

A U D I O P H I L E

“My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.” ― Fernando Pessoa

T H E . L I E

“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.” ― Albert Camus

2 . S I D E S < H O P E >

“When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” ― Albert Camus

N A I L S

"ℕ𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕞𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 - 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕦𝕖𝕤. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕘. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕞 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕞𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕖, 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚-𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕠𝕔𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕛𝕠𝕪 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤, 𝕚𝕤, 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖." ~𝐿𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝑀. 𝐿𝑒𝒾𝓉𝓃𝑒

C r a f t

“He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.” ― Saint Francis of Assisi

C h e r r y . W h i n e

“To be acceptable is for one to ignore his weakness while knowing his strength, to cover the scar even though it's always there, however, to be impossible is for one to see his weakness as, not an adversary, but the cherry on top of his strength, to rearrange the scar so that it compliments his features.” ― Criss Jami

s m i l e s

“And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” ― Suzanne Collins

B u t e o

“You’re my dream. I want to crawl inside your skin and see how you taste from the inside. I could spend a decade just listening to you sigh like that. Spend time? Give me every fucking minute and I’ll worship you like the sick, depraved bastard I am.” ― V. Theia

a m a z e d

“Our wings are small but the ripples of the heart are infinite.” ― Amit Ray

A l b a t r o s s

"As for me, I used to be a bird with a gentle white womb, someone cut my throat just for laughs, I don’t know. As for me, I used to be a great albatross and whirled over the seas. Someone put an end to my journey, without any charity in the tone of it. But even stretched out on the ground I sing for you now my songs of love." ~ Alda Merini