Damara Likes Cats

Autumn by Anne Ulmestrand

(via jingc)

Lillian Hellman, during the “Red Scare,” or the McCarthey era

Rilo Kiley- With Arms Outstretched

(via collegetown)

def.(n) A lover of loves. One who has fondness for the concept of loving objects, if not the love of the objects themselves directly.

Dear Washington, I miss you. Love, Damara.

I didn’t want to bore you with the whole thing.

Seated on the battered bench, I stretched upright and searched the keys for the familiar note. My thumbs found middle C at the left of the pair of two worn, long, black-brown keys. I pressed down on it three times and proceeded to pluck out the melody of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” four times, stretching my small fingers to reach the notes. I stopped and looked down at my floral summer dress, fringed with white lace at the end. My tiny bare feet dangled above the matted down emerald green carpet of my living room. I let my hands fall to the bench and mindlessly scraped the finish off of yet another corner on the surface of the piano bench, swinging my legs. I remembered my lesson from that morning. “Don’t forget to keep your wrists down!” my teacher had said, while sipping her herbal tea. “Keep the tempo!” she had muttered, while watching my hands. I hadn’t wanted to tell her that I didn’t know what tempo was. I stopped scraping off the brown finish and practiced the song another four times, making sure that my wrists were down.

…

One sunny afternoon I stood outside my new elementary school under a weak, slanting tree. The wind rustled through its almond shaped leaves and lifted up my thick brown hair. I loosely held a lavender strap of my Simba backpack with one hand and a package tightly wrapped in wax paper in the other. I let my gaze fall on the long grass overlapping the sides of my Powerpuff Girls shoes. I heard a mechanical groan a few feet away and looked up to see my monstrous navy blue suburban with my mother perched in the front seat behind the ancient steering wheel. I ran to the passenger door and reached up, pushing hard on the handle. The door opened with a desperate creak and I climbed inside.
“Sorry I’m late, Damara,” my mother said while she put the car into drive and pulled away from the school. “I had to get groceries. How was your day?”
“Good!” I responded. “Today for free time they said that even third graders can go to clay class! I made a spider.”
I unwrapped the wax paper that I had been holding onto so firmly and let it fall to my lap, revealing my deformed grey spider. I smiled at the praises my mom willingly gave me and wrapped the spider back into its package. I set it carefully on the dashboard and turned to my mother.
“Mom?” I said hopefully.
“Yes, Damara?”
“Can I quit piano?”
My mother sighed and took her eyes off of the road long enough to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. “No, you can’t. I’m sorry. I think you’ll thank me for this later.”
My face stretched into a scowl and I turned my back on her. I stared out the window and bitterly watched as the track homes and trees flew by.

…

Later that day, I sat in front of the piano. I stared at the rows of the keys in resentment. I raised my hands to play, only to hesitate. Suddenly, I let both my arms slam down on the keys, enjoying the booming clash of the individual notes. I laid my head down onto my arms and closed my eyes, listening to the piercing sound slowly vibrate away.

I think I might know the answer.

Because I don’t really believe that everything is dead. And I love the freshness of wind and the smell of rain. I love the blue gray tint winter gives everything around me and how no two clouds are ever alike. I like staying outside for hours and hours until my face is numb and I can’t move my fingers. I like coming inside and reading a really good book by the fire. I love warm hot chocolate and ridiculously fuzzy socks.

(via davidhorvitz)

I did this in the car yesterday and today I found this post. Needless to say, David Horvitz, I like the way you think.

katepulley:

andsoitgoes0:

(via megstunnah)

my grandma has those dishes!!!!!

i love this. so nostalgic for me.

 my dad and my grandma have those dishes :)

 I have those dishes!

laurencephilomene:

Hideaway - Karen O and the kids

I saw this movie last night in my favorite city. I’ve been waiting for months for this film and it was wonderful! It had a lot of heart. And the soundtrack rules of course.

neavers:

Again, on the first floor.

 It was on that bridge that I listened to Jaydin talk about what it would be like to live in a video game and Evan talk about how his mom spends too much money. And it was there that I saw a mime silently gesture to Brendon that he needed a haircut. We saw Phantom of the Opera that night. It was a good weekend.

Regina Spektor- Somedays

tell me something that you really mean. Right now.