Writing is a haunting melody: I'm a master in hiding myself

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Music, art, reading, writing, the sound of rain, cycling and men on bikes, daydreaming, Jeff Buckley, Moleskine notebooks, London, polaroids, Scandinavia, interior design, Pearl Jam, stories, absurdly large music collections, poetry, watching the moon, photography, vintage stuff, British accents, the sky, men in waistcoat, lots of strawberries, finding shapes in the clouds, England, the sixties, absolute perfect silence, inventing words, really old Tupperware, singing, bookshelves, melancholy, smelling at books before reading them, quotes, Yann Tiersen, tight hugs now and then, men with guitar in their hands, sunsets, art books, smell the seasons, drawing portraits, cultures, pictures of trees, percussion, architecture, Spain, creating my own little world, wanderlust, emotions, bookshops, biscuits, painting walls, philosophy, making lists, freedom, libraries, decoration, Swedish, associating smells with memories, illustrations, looking at old pictures, Barcelona, colors, expressions, spring and autumn, history, forests, strangers saying hi, paranormal things, candles and tea lights, trainrides, soundtracks, simple things that make people happy, thoughts, pencils, stars, cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, sound of nature, pretty handwritings, new bed sheets, classic rock, biographies of artists, pinguins, tea sets (despite fact I don’t like tea), singer-songwriters, sketches, smiles, sea and ocean pictures, handwritten letters, sleep, The Who, words, perfume bottles, Victorian costume films, holding hands, balloons, finding inspiration everywhere, childhood memories, merry-go rounds, pancakes, fascinated by fascinations, smell of rain on hot days, male voices, flower crowns, picture books, dreams for the nocturnal: sleep is for the weak, ...

Ride the unicorn 'till the seas of marmelade!

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06 februari 2014

I'm a master in hiding myself

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