my symbolic self-portrait
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my finger painting (with sharpie pen added later)
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pineconedust:

It makes you feel like an ice cube on the sidewalk in August; melting.

Such a warm, overwhelming feeling that changes you completely.

From a solid cube to a puddle.

Absorbing everything, noticing and forming to every curve and blemish.

Running over the surface; trickling.

Slow at first, then faster, then all at once; you’re melted.

Love is like an ice cube on the asphalt in mid-summer.

Forming one single puddle, from two souls; connecting.

13 notes

Pastels

You lean into me and our foreheads meet.

Our golden flesh tones blend to create and orange blur of colour where we touch.

As easily as possible I lift my eyelids, just in time to meet your eyes mirroring my actions.

Then, the moment our glances pass tracks I can’t help but to stare.

It seems like my thoughts have collapsed into my spine, cold, trickling down my vertebrae into the pit o my stomach.

I’m left thinking silently to myself, what a predicament I’ve gotten myself into, then out loud, at a voice just loud enough for you to hear I say “I love you”.

Your eyes get as bright as if there was a comet flying through the room.

There was then a magnet placed on either side of us and that sparkle in your eyes called me in, so we leaned closer to one another.

Our noses touched and I looked down just in time to see your lips say “I love you”, and I heard your heart say it.

In a pink smudge our lips touched in the warmest possible way.

There was something in that moment like the warm coloured pastels, the ones the shade of orange sherbet, banana pudding, and the inside of strawberries.

Something that just reminds of cold winter nights when you’re curled up under the thick cotton blankets.

I’ve never experienced something more perfect.
― sahm Stivala (pineconedust)
2 notes

It makes you feel like an ice cube on the sidewalk in August; melting.

Such a warm, overwhelming feeling that changes you completely.

From a solid cube to a puddle.

Absorbing everything, noticing and forming to every curve and blemish.

Running over the surface; trickling.

Slow at first, then faster, then all at once; you’re melted.

Love is like an ice cube on the asphalt in mid-summer.

Forming one single puddle, from two souls; connecting.

13 notes
what I did my first day of summer school. “there was once a man named Joe,who’s hair would grow and grow.Instead of down,it grew round.So his beard now has curly flow.” 
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I want to travel the world and eat at cute little cafes.
no restaurants owned by franchises, but cute little family owned cafes.
I want to live in a busy old town, where the streets are lined with brick buildings, all touching each other.
I want to live in an artsy loft, a walking distance away from down town, so that I can wake up in the morning and walk down to one of the little cafe’s and eat breakfast. and when I walk in I want them to be able to say “you want your regular honey?”
I want it to be like I’m part of the family.
I want to eat at one of the little cafes at least once a week.
I want my boyfriend to be artsy and wear sweaters and scarfs and beanies and such.
I want my boyfriend to propose to me by walking me to our favorite dessert cafe and point at a cake in the window that has “will you marry me?” written on it in icing, then me look at him and him be on one knee.
I want to get married in an art museum, or in an extremely architecturally beautiful place near where we live.
I want to have a honeymoon in Italy and spend the time sightseeing and learning about art and sketching and painting.
I want to have an artsy, perfect life. Like the type they write books about, and make quotes about.
I want to have the kind of love that people can see in my eyes when I smile.
I want to be happy. 

6 notes
Mine :) pineconedust.tumblr.com (the idea IS from a different picture though)
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♏