“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”
a day off.
i took the body prints of some of my favorite humans. they’re relics from a very specfic time and place. in 30 years they’ll find their way back to their owners, when everything is different yet kind of the same.
i’ve regressed. to the age of 6 exactly. when finger painting was all the rage and whether it was “good enough” didn’t matter. everything made it on the metaphorical fridge and
what a lovely time that was.