Explore Anais Nin, Willow Tree and more!

Thrust Of New Life. Macro view of a willow tree buds in the early spring. New life is ready to flourish. - Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country. (Anais Nin) - Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn. (Lewis Grizzard)

Thrust Of New Life. Macro view of a willow tree buds in the early spring. New life is ready to flourish. - Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country. (Anais Nin) - Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn. (Lewis Grizzard)

Wild Swans, Scandinavian Fashion Blog, Danish Fashion, Our brands are 95% Scandinavian. | WILD-SWANS.COM

Wild Swans, Scandinavian Fashion Blog, Danish Fashion, Our brands are 95% Scandinavian. | WILD-SWANS.COM

Film Photo By: Briana Morrison  Go ahead and disappear Polaroid Spectra, Expired Impossible Project PZ680 Facebook

Film Photo By: Briana Morrison Go ahead and disappear Polaroid Spectra, Expired Impossible Project PZ680 Facebook

Taken by superkulisap with a Lomo LC-A+ (available in our Online Shop) loaded with Fuji Velvia 100F film in El Nido, Palawan, Philippines.

Taken by superkulisap with a Lomo LC-A+ (available in our Online Shop) loaded with Fuji Velvia 100F film in El Nido, Palawan, Philippines.

“What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,/  I have forgotten, and what arms have lain/  Under my head till morning, but the rain/  Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh/  Upon the glass and listen for reply,/  And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain/  For unremembered lads that not again/  Will turn to me at midnight with a cry."

“What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,/ I have forgotten, and what arms have lain/ Under my head till morning, but the rain/ Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh/ Upon the glass and listen for reply,/ And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain/ For unremembered lads that not again/ Will turn to me at midnight with a cry."

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