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Transplanting

BY LEE ANN RORIPAUGH

 

For my mother, Yoshiko Horikoshi Roripaugh

1. X-Ray

 

My mother carried the chest x-ray

in her lap on the plane, inside

a manila envelope that read

Do Not Bend and, garnished

with leis at the Honolulu Airport,

waited in line—this strange image

of ribcage, chain-link vertebrae,

pearled milk of lung, and the murky

enigmatic chambers of her heart

in hand. Until it was her turn

and the immigration officer held

the black-and-white film up

to sun, light pierced clean through

her, and she was ushered from one

life through the gate of another,

wreathed in the dubious and illusory

perfume of plucked orchids.

  

2. Ceramic Pig

 

Newly arrived in New Mexico,

stiff and crisp in new dungarees,

her honeymoon, they drove

into the mountains in a borrowed car,

spiraling up and up toward the rumor

of deer, into the green tangy turpentine

scent of pine, where air crackled

with the sizzling collision of bees,

furred legs grappling velvet bodies

as they mated midair, and where

they came upon the disconsolate gaze

of a Madonna alcoved against

the side of the road, her feet wreathed

in candles, fruit, flowers, and other

offerings. Nearby, a vendor

with a wooden plank balanced between

two folding chairs and the glossy

row of ceramic pigs lined up across,

brilliant glaze shimmering the heat.

My mother fell in love with the red-

and-blue splash of flowers tattooed

into fat flanks and bellies, the green

arabesques of stem and leaf circling

hoof, snout, and ear. So exotic.

Years later she still describes the pig

with a sigh—heartbroken, the word

she chooses with careful consideration.

She’d filled the pig with Kennedy dollars

from the grocery budget, each half dollar

a small luxury denied at the local

Piggly Wiggly, until one day, jingling

the shift and clink of the pig’s

growing silver weight, she shook

too hard, and as if the hoarded wealth

of her future were too much to contain,

the pig broke open—spilling coins

like water, a cold shiny music, into her lap—

fragments of bright pottery shards

scattering delicate as Easter eggshell.

  

3. Sneeze

 

My mother sneezes in Japanese. Ké-sho!

An exclamation of surprise—two sharp

crisp syllables before pulling out

the neatly folded and quartered tissue

she keeps tucked inside the wrist

of her sweater sleeve. Sometimes,

when ragweed blooms, I wonder why

her sneeze isn’t mine, why something

so involuntary, so deeply rooted

in the seed of speech, breaks free from

my mouth like thistle in a stiff breeze,

in a language other than my mother’s

tongue. How do you chart the diaspora

of a sneeze? I don’t know how

you turned out this way, she always

tells me, and I think that we are each

her own moon—one face in shadow,

undisclosed seas and surprising mountains,

rotating in the circular music

of separate spheres, but held in orbit

by the gravitational muscle

of the same mercurial spinning heart.

  

4. Dalmatian

 

There is an art to this. To shish

kebab the varnished pit of avocado

on three toothpicks above a pickle jar

of cool water, tease down the pale

thirsty hairs of root until one sinewy

arm punches up and unclenches its green

fisted hand, palm open, to the sun.

To discern the oniony star-struck

subterfuge of bulbs, their perverse

desires, death-like sleeps, and conspire

behind the scenes to embroider

the Elizabethan ruffles and festoons

of their flamboyant resurrections.

To trick the tomatoes into letting down

their swelling, tumescent orbs

in the cottony baked heat of the attic

until their sunburnt faces glow

like round orange lanterns under

the crepuscular twilight of the eaves.

Unwrapping the cuttings of succulents

from their moist, paper-towel bandages,

and snugging them down into firm

dimples of dirt and peat, coaxing up

the apple-green serpentine coils of sweet

pea with a snake charmer’s song to wind

around the trellis and flicker their quick

pink-petaled tongues. The tender slips

of mint, sueded upturned bells of petunia,

and slim fingers of pine that pluck

the metal window screen like a tin harp

by the breakfast nook where my father

stirs his morning coffee and waits

for the neighbors’ Dalmatian to hurl

itself over the back fence and hang,

limply twisting and gasping on the end

of its chain and collar like a polka-dotted

petticoat, until my father goes outside

and takes its baleful kicking weight

in his arms and gently tosses it back

over the fence into the neighbors’ yard.

Year after year, the dandelions

and clover are weeded out, summers

come and go, and roots stubbornly inch

down around the foundation of the house—

labyrinthine, powerful and deep.

  

5. Japanese Apple

 

She was given an apple on the plane,

round and fragrant with the scent

of her grandfather’s fruit orchards

during autumn, when chestnuts

dropped from their trees and struck

the metal rooftop like the small heavy

tongues of bells, and black dragon-

flies like quick shiny needles darted

in and out of the spin and turn

of leaves fluttering down like soft

bright scraps of silk. She wrapped

the apple in a napkin to save

for later, and it was confiscated

at customs before she had the chance

for even a taste. Over the years it

seemed to grow larger, yellower, juicier

and more delicious, and even though

there were burnished rows of apples

stacked in gleaming pyramids

at the supermarket with quaint

names like Macintosh, Winesap,

and Granny Smith, and even though

there were sunlit apple orchards

at my American grandfather’s ranch,

where rattlesnakes slumbered

in the heat and redolence of fruit

flesh, frightening the horses,

she sampled one after another,

but they never tasted as sweet

or as bright as the apple taken from her,

the one she had to leave behind.

 

Lee Ann Roripaugh, “Transplanting” from Year of the Snake. Copyright © 2004 by Lee Ann Roripaugh. Reprinted by permission of Southern Illinois University Press.

Source: Year of the Snake (Southern Illinois University Press, 2004)

 

Cleadon old Windmill at Sunset.

The ruined windmill on the hills was constructed in the 1820s. The mill is built on the highest part of Cleadon Hills on a slight artificial mound. The building incorporates a stone reefing stage, a feature that was peculiar to windmills in the area.

The mill was severely damaged in a storm at some time during the 1870s, and then suffered the indignity of being a target for gunnery practice during the First World War. A photograph dating from the 1920s shows the rotating cap and the windshaft more or less intact but without the sails, which were presumably destroyed during the storm that put the mill out of business. Nowadays the entrances to the mill are barred and locked, the remains of internal machinery that were visible in the mill during the 1970s are now gone, although broken fragments of a millstone remain.

A local legend relates the story of Elizabeth Gibbon, a heartbroken woman who threw herself from the top of the mill tower and whose ghost apparently haunts the ruin of the mill to this day. The windmill was operated by the Gibbon family at the time the storm took place, which lends some weight to the tale of Elizabeth's suicide.

This boy lives in an apartment adjacent to this one.He was around when i went there to shoot,so i asked him if he'd like to pose for me and he reluctantly agreed.Thankfully!.The result is before you.The image depicts my country's state at the moment.People are generally heartbroken and disgusted with life as senseless killing sprees become more rampant.Just my way of expressing how i feel and what im going through at the moment.Thank you for your interest in my work.Really appreciate it.

Well a few people have been posting on flickr about the recent POTUS results with Superman in the forefront. I wanted to join in.

 

I've had all day to think about this and one thing that I've come to realize, is that we've gotta keep our heads up! I know myself personally, I'm heartbroken. Pessimism and Aggression have won. Lies and Greed have won. Oppression and Fear Mongering have won today and it's a damn shame.

The US chose the worst kind of person to become the most powerful man in the world and it's scary.

 

But see that only makes us the underdog now. We've gotta keep fighting! We've got to keep moving forward! Pushing for honesty and kindness before cynicism and hatred! We're all human, we're all still alive, and we can only do better from here!

 

Don't let it dampen your spirits! In the next coming weeks try your best to be positive and uplifting to those around you! Smile and laugh and love and care for as many people as you can! Because the amount of people hurting right now is only going to get bigger. Keep your friends and families close, and remind them that everything will be okay. That's what Superman would do.

 

We could use a Superman to give us hope. To right all the wrongs, bring justice to the people, and oppose monsters that want to control the world. But that would be too easy. We've got to do it for ourselves!

 

Remember to keep kindness in your heart.

 

I'm gonna leave you guys with a monologue from The Great Dictator performed by Charlie Chaplin. Take a couple minutes out of your evening and just listen.

 

Breathe.

 

We'll get through this together.

  

youtu.be/V1fMvLbE85E

  

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be an emperor. That’s not my business. I don’t want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone - if possible - Jew, Gentile - black man - white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness - not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way.

 

Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost....

 

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men - cries out for universal brotherhood - for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world - millions of despairing men, women, and little children - victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people.

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish....

 

Soldiers! don’t give yourselves to brutes - men who despise you - enslave you - who regiment your lives - tell you what to do - what to think and what to feel! Who drill you - diet you - treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men - machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate - the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!

 

In the 17th Chapter of St Luke it is written: “the Kingdom of God is within man” - not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people have the power - the power to create machines. The power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

 

Then - in the name of democracy - let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world - a decent world that will give men a chance to work - that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfil that promise. They never will!

 

Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people! Now let us fight to fulfil that promise! Let us fight to free the world - to do away with national barriers - to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness. Soldiers! in the name of democracy, let us all unite!”

Heartbroken with the passing of the greatest blues/rock singer of all-time, Gregg Allman (69). He will be buried this Saturday in Macon, Georgia, next to his brother Duane Allman who died in a motorcycle accident in October 1971 at the age of 24. They were The Architects

of Southern Rock in America - Together Again - RIP Allman Brothers

 

[Gregory Lenoir Allman : December 8th, 1947 - May 27th, 2017]

 

Brief Band History and Funeral Arrangements

www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6jDBcEdpkU

 

"Statesboro Blues" - The Allman Brothers Band

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezPZxfS1jys

 

"Stormy Monday" - The Allman Brothers Band

www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gDhR1R3S0s

 

50 Year History of The Allman Brothers Band

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Allman_Brothers_Band

 

www.allmanbrothersband.com/

 

www.facebook.com/allmanbrothersband

 

*************************************************************

Spring Sunset ~ Boca Raton, Florida

South Florida ~ Florida Everglades U.S.A.

 

(two more photos 'from this night' in the comments)

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Everglades

 

What happened to DUANE ALLMAN?:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=60lpJ9D_sCc

My heart goes out for Paris & its iconic history!!! Really, really, really heartbroken 😢😢💔

the red version of this is still available for the haiti fundraiser at Scribble or the Grim Bros. Mainstore hint hint

This is what www.amazoncares.org is all about. In this case we took a LOT of time to teach this abandoned dog, Calipso, that it was alright to trust people. And her new owner, Lady, does not suffer from the many social prejudices that exist about stray dogs. A match made in Heaven!!

 

UPDATE MAY 2007: I am heartbroken to report that Calipso has passed away of natural causes. Her heart was just too big and full of love! I have written a memorial essay that I hope you will read and share with others.

 

  

Esto es lo que es todo acerca de. En este caso, nosotros tomamos mucho tiempo de enseñar este perro abandonado, Calipso, que lo estuvo bien fiarse de personas. Su nuevo dueño, la Señora, no sufre de los muchos prejuicios sociales que existen acerca de perros perdidos. ¡Un igual hizo en el Cielo!!

 

ACTUALICE el 2007 de mayo: Soy angustioso para informar que Calipso se ha muerto de causas naturales. ¡El corazón fue justo demasiado grande y lleno de amor!

 

He escrito un ensayo conmemorativo que espera que usted leerá y compartirá con otros

 

Came home from vacation to learn that my 15 year old cat, Jinx, had taken a turn for the worse. He had been diagnosed with Megacolon 7 weeks prior and had shown a little improvement after a procedure and medications, so I was hopeful. But he now had completely stopped eating and hadn't had a bowel movement in days, and during the 7 weeks had lost more than 1/2 his weight. Although he still explored the yard and purred like crazy when cuddled, it was clear that he was uncomfortable. Rather than wait for him to inevitably severely suffer, I made the very very difficult decision to let him go yesterday. I have to admit, I am heartbroken.

You were sad and hurt. Maybe your heart was broken, but you weren’t broken

 

________________________

visit my Blog ♥

________________________

 

Hair:

 

Wasabi -Arantxa Hair SUMMERFEST // opens June 20th

 

Marketplace

  

Outfit:

 

CandyDoll Ayashe Set- UBERd

 

Marketplace

  

Heels:

 

Vanilla Bae - Christe Ankle Wrap Heels w/ Carry Animation - Black Fair

 

Vanilla Bae Marketplace

  

Head:

 

- Genus Project Classic Face

 

for once something good came from snapping my board

EXPLORED 8/24/11 #174

 

Edited an old picture of my car because i miss her.

 

My car is supposed to be done this week after being at the bodyshop for a month. Just waiting for the call from the bodyshop. Who would have known that i would miss my car so much.

Llanddwyn Island is named after St Dwynwen, the Welsh patron saint of lovers. Legend has it that she was spurned by a prince and retreated heartbroken to the island. There she was granted three wishes, and asked to be given the power to grant the wishes of true lovers.

Heartbroken, Ariel throws herself into the sea, knowing that she will become one with it, no more mermaid, no more legs, no more life, just foam. But just as her form dissolves into sea spray, there is one more transformation. She feels the warmth of the sun and she is rising up into the sky to become one of the Daughters of the Air. Joining with the other daughters, they sing to her, shimmering in the early morning sunlight. Ethereal earthbound spirits, each of them have been given a chance for redemption.

 

Inspired by The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson

 

Thanks to my lovely friends Ashley and Sayo for being Daughters of the Air with me <3

 

More Little Mermaid-inspired artwork and amazing creations at Enchantment. There's a photo contest too. Details here: lostunicorngallery.blogspot.co.uk

enchantmentsl.com/august-enchantment-events/

 

Visit Enchantment here: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nymphai/127/95/3192

 

'Mermaid Life' Pose by Verocity on MP

   

63/365. May 28, 2009.

Things are good, then they're bad...

I just want everything to work out for the best.

I'm completely torn....

 

*Blog* *Twitter* *Tumblr*

 

All images copyright © olivia house / ©oliviahousephotography. All rights reserved. Use without permission is illegal.

This photo was taken in Autumn around June, but it is now spring in Australia actually. I really like autumn, have some special feeling with this season~~ romantic and also emptiness~~

 

I am not sure about English culture~~ but in Chinese culture... there are quite a few songs using Autumn as heartbroken background season. And I think it is why autumn always make me feel that way~~ beautiful, romantic, but lonely~~

 

Perhaps something beautiful never last long~ when it comes to the end of Autumn, all the leaves fall off and the only thing left is the empty branches. Then you have to wait for the next spring~~ for the new leaves and life to grow again~~

 

Just like if you got a brokenheart, you need to take time to heal yourself... until someday... you will be really for love again~~

 

love... sometimes is a recycle thing like nature~

I'll be brief...I am completely heartbroken and really angry, i have no words to describe how I feel since i read this news. I am not on other social networks,but with this pic of my cat and these few words I want to share my feelings and to help that innocent creature to find justice,so I want to thank with all my heart every single friend here on Flickr who will take a minute to read and sign this petition and try to find this psychopath. Thank you! animalpetitions.org/201483/justice-for-cat-tortured-to-de...

here is the whole story

fox6now.com/2017/03/14/cops-want-to-find-the-awful-person...

 

When during my last photo shoot Melissa’s bouquet started to fall apart I remembered a Li Shang Yin’s poem I had read a couple of days before:

 

The guests are gone from the pavilion high,

In the small garden flowers are whirling around.

Along the winding path the petals lie;

To greet the setting sun, they drift up from the ground.

  

Heartbroken, I cannot bear to sweep them away;

From my eyes, spring soon disappears.

I pine with passing, heart's desire lost for aye;

Nothing is left but a robe stained with tears.

   

First shot with my SX-70 and the new/old Artistic TZ film.

 

...before everything went horribly wrong and now my camera won't eject the film and I tried fixing it and now it won't stop cycling and won't stop squealing at me. So now I have half a pack that's probably ruined, and one full pack in the fridge and no SX-70 to shoot with. I'm heartbroken.

 

blogged...

Day 189. So I'm not really heartbroken but sometimes it feels that way. Oh and yes I suck at free hand drawing.

The Mary St. pedestrian bridge. There were a number of locks, some of which seemed to be 'love locks' (if not all). However, some heartbroken snook took a spray can to them.

Taken from an entrance to Notre Dame Cathedral that I visited several years ago. So sad that it was devastated by fire.

After the passing of our beloved Cooper last August, we were heartbroken, my wife even more as he was her shadow. She has been working from home for the last 15 years, before it become the new norm and has wanted to get another dog, but with our travelling it would prove challenging. Solution, a micro goldendoodle.

 

Theodora, aka as Teddy was delivered on day 92 at 2:10 am (yes check the EXIF) by this giant stork. She’s from the Atkinson Family Goldendoobles in Utah. We are super happy, although sleep deprived.

Back story to this photo, I'm house sitting for my friends, The First day I got there, I looked around for one of there cats and couldn't find her, I was so heartbroken, Intill one night there other cat look up at the window and there she was. Baby came back home after 10 days. The cats might not be mine, But I love those cats like family. Thank you to B(U)Y Me Poses for making this amazing backdrop.

 

Black.Flowers - Sydney Jacket / Pants - FATPACK

 

♥LaraX / PetiteX

♥Legacy / Perky / Bomshell

♥Reborn / Waifu

 

♥ Uber Event

 

♥ Black Flowers MAINSTORE

 

♥ Black Flowers Marketplace

 

♥ Black Flowers Facebook

 

♥ Black Flowers Flickr

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

B(u)Y ME: Autumn . Place to be

 

Female Pose

  

♥ TresChic event

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Main Store

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Market Place

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Flickr

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Facekbook

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

B(u)Y ME: My Autumn Place Backdrop

  

♥ TresChic event

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Main Store

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Market Place

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Flickr

 

♥ B(u)Y ME Poses Facekbook

 

♥ Sunny's Studio

 

This photo was taken at Sunny's Studio - Sunny's Studio Doesn't Have this Backdrop yet If you would like to use please mgs me in world

Her last day before euthanasia. Her cancer had metatisized and her lungs weren't working well. I am heartbroken but she is not suffering any longer.

There is a ghost here.

A lonely, heartbroken spirit.

The ghost of everything that could’ve been and never was.

--Jennifer Donnelly

Céline: You know, I guess I've been heartbroken too many times. And then I recovered. So now, you know, from the starts I make no effort…because I know it’s not going to work out, I know it’s not going to work out ...

 

Before Sunset

I've been gone.

Mental health took a dive and I wasn't enjoying sl like I used to, but I'm back and feeling much better!

 

Head:Genus-Babyface

Hair: Doux-Laquisha

Skin: Little Devil-Isis (Warm Nude)

Face Tattoo: Little Devil- Heartbroken

Tattoo: This is Wrong-Flamenco

Septum Piercing: Little Devil-Chonk Septum

Collar: AsteroidBox- Crystal Collar

Dress: Moon Elixir x Moon- Moonlit Secret (Black Fair Exclusive)

Pose: Versuta- Rose Fatpack (Pose 4)

When I heard that Prince died today, I was shocked and, inevitably, heartbroken. The entirety of my youth was laced with Prince music, at some points, as ever-present and loud as a soundtrack. And so I had to pull away from Facebook and all the stories and images and R.I.P.s and saddness. I left the house and hit the woods with the dog and the camera in an odd state of mournful delirium, maybe a little denial. I didn't care that it was muddy and drizzling rain. I didn't care that the woods around my place are already seemingly satiated with ticks. Right away, I found an evil-eyed Eastern Box Turtle on the move (surely in search of love) who made me smile. Then I found a fascinating line of odd-shaped, brown fungi, little cauldron cups that I came to learn were so affectionately named Devil's Urn. I also discovered this wonderful wad of warm moss, shaped like a fuzzy heart. The nature walk was healing, as was finding the right music to stream and the right movie to watch this evening. I'm not sure if I feel satiated as of yet. I might have to keep gathering up Prince tomorrow. Life and love in all things, even death.

 

"i'll watch for you in the night sky, amping up all the starfunk, jamming all the frequencies, reverbing the cosmos."

~ Lidia Yuknavitch

Llanddwyn Island is named after St Dwynwen, the Welsh patron saint of lovers. Legend has it that she was spurned by a prince and retreated heartbroken to the island. There she was granted three wishes, and asked to be given the power to grant the wishes of true lovers.

I had doubts about coming here today. I thought it will broken (and I will be heartbroken) after seeing almost abandoned streets. But no ! Even seating here, having breakfast on one of the steps in the middle of Soho I get the feeling of NYC strength & vibe that not even three months of torture & misery could destroy!

My daughter 27, my fourth daughters boyfriend 18, my nephew 25 all died in the last three months. So young. So sad. So heartbroken. For Nade, Audrey and Siobhan - 'HEARTBROKEN'

Standing 80 feet tall, Puu Pehe—also known as “Sweetheart Rock” (center) —is one of Lanai’s most recognizable landmarks. It is also the setting for one of Hawaii’s most enduring legends.

 

The Legend

 

The story goes that a ravishing young princess from Maui, was captured by a young warrior from Lanai. He took her as his wife and brought her back to his home island. He was so stricken with her beauty that he was afraid to let other men see her, and thus he confined the princess to a sea cave near the rock.

 

One day, as the warrior was away, the weather suddenly changed drastically, and the raging surf began to pound this side of the island. The warrior rushed back to the cave, but it was too late: His beloved Puu Pehe had drowned. Heartbroken, he retrieved her body and, with the help of the gods, climbed the steep rock island, where he buried her in a tomb. Overcome with grief, the warrior then leapt off the rock to his death.

I finally made it back there again, in my dream... It’s been three years since I took this shot. Just when I wanted to make it back there two years ago the big fire started and that was the end of it. I recently came across a few photos shot by people who snuck in, and they were heartbroken... I wish I can make it back there one day in my lifetime.

..::Prom Night::..

 

♪♪♪Disturbed - A Reason To Fight♪♪♪

 

===Credits===

>Head: Genus Babyface W002

>Hair: Stealthic - Rebellion

>Hairbase: Dura Hairbase

>Eyes: AviGlam - Prestige Eyes Lavender

>Eye Shadow: Insomnia Angel - Anti Angel Makeup

>Tears: POUT! - Heartbreaker

>Body: Meshmerized - Tweenster

>Roses: EmmePose - Valentine

>Suit: 2cute - Formal Tuxedo

>Backdrop: BellePoses - Nightmare Time

“Quando tutto è perduto, tutto è possibile.”

Robert Inman

104/365

 

heartbroken.

 

because it's hard to come home, to this life of quiet mediocrity. especially after having the happiest week of your life somewhere else and with someone else.

 

facebook || 500px || website || blog || vimeo || travel blog

Did this for my fb weekly concept challenge group

The hauntingly beautiful ruins of the Old Church of Dunlewey stand beneath the brooding shadow of Mount Errigal. Built in the mid-1800s by Jane Smith Russell in memory of her beloved husband, Reverend James Russell, the church is a lasting testament to a deep and tragic love. Locals tell how Jane, heartbroken after his untimely death, oversaw every detail of the little Gothic-style church so his spirit would never be forgotten. Though services ceased long ago, visitors say the place still carries a gentle, romantic hush an enduring whisper of devotion that lingers among the wild heather and Donegal mist.

 

We're drowning,

heartbroken, falling...

Time has won

The storm has come

The waves are splashing,

Pulling us under

But we must stay strong

We have to get through.

Swim, swim to the shore,

And start new

Please do not take this as a throw away comment as you did so many times previous.

 

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