To the summer that never was.
Childhood Lost by Justyna Neryng
"An on-going autobiographical project, self-portraits just in a different body. Exploring the nature of portraiture and memory. I am producing a series of portraits that evoke characters that populate this world we know as childhood. A court of character’s from myths and dreams. The images are aesthetically inspired by portraiture from the Golden Age of Dutch painting.By drawing on paintings as inspiration I am hoping to give a timeless feel to the final images. Key to the project is the painstaking styling and prop building, which I am using to evoke these different persona played out by my daughter."(via)
Waking up next to your best friend in her tiny bed.
Waking up alone in a tent.
The taste of green tea on a hot day.
Shaving your head and laughing.
The comfortable silence between yourself and another being.
A field full of wildflowers hidden behind crappy buildings.
Notes from middle school.
Climbing sand dunes, even if you were falling on the way up.
Walking away from the people who hurt you.
The way the earth looks after it rains.
Hot sand under your bare feet.
When a cat sits on your lap instead of the laps of the other 8 people in the room.
Buying a dress in a vintage shop you saw 4 years ago but couldn’t get then.
Getting naked in places you aren’t allowed to be naked in.
The feeling you get when you beat an anxiety attack.
Moving into your own apartment for the first time.
Finishing a piece of art.
When someone says, “this reminded me of you.”
Meeting a person who feels the same way you do about the world, knowing you’re not as alone as you thought you were.
Eye contact with a beautiful stranger.
Changing your mind about something you thought you knew your whole life.
2 am walks in the city.
The rush you feel driving through an intense thunderstorm.
Laughing so hard you pretty much pee your pants.
Family events you don’t want to go to that make you feel surprisingly thankful.
Letters in the mail.
Getting so full you have to unbutton your pants.
A good night’s sleep after 14 nights of depression keeping you up.
Not failing a test.
When someone says, “I’m proud of you.”
Telling someone how much you love them.
Laying in bed with a friend drinking wine and reading poetry.
Getting lost in cornfields with your favorite music blasting through the speakers.
When you finally get the courage to say how you feel.
Drunken nights full of people you don’t know spilling their entire lives to you.
Buying a used book that has underlined sentences.
The boxes you find full of pictures of people who passed away.
3 hour phone calls with someone you used to love.
The feeling of cool sheets against your bare feet.
I hope you can start seeing the small things and understand that those are what make you feel. Those are the reasons you’re alive.
"You really look nice now…
… I like you.”
ahhh this makes me happy.
you are allowed to your *wrong* opinion about me but you aren’t entitled to my friendship