— Novalis (via observando)
Edit: Whoops this was supposed to publish next Friday, I don’t leave for another week!
On the horizon,
Sunlight, painting Autumn’s leaves,
Upon winter’s trees.
Drew’s mountain range is really comin’ along. I’m particularly proud of this piece so far. New needles, different inks, new machines, new techniques, all within the past two or three months. by bones! on Flickr.
Starved by the
Poverty of our wealth,
Deafened by the sound
Of our own words, Burdened,
By the ignorance of our intellect.
Strange, though ironic, that we should
Be stricken by our own whip. Yet in the face,
Of our own pointed finger, we build like Babylon,
To reach the Heavens with Hell’s intent, because we,
Believe that we have always been taller than we really are.