sakura (桜) cherry blossom air

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"It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for miles with no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets.

It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to point B.

The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way."

— Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

"The truth is, your lifestyle is not defined by the things you live with, but by the way you live and the happiness it brings to yourself and others." 🌟 🌈 ⋅

Haruki Murakami's— "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" #💕☔#🌿☁

...

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her. .

.

Source: Gravitytrope | On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning — Haruki Murakami

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.”

― Margaret Wise Brown, Goodnight Moon

“Quietness is an essential part of all awareness. In quiet times and sleepy times, a child can dwell in thoughts of his own, and in songs and stories of his own.”

― Margaret Wise Brown

☾ “I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives.

Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses.

To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights – then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought.”

— Why I Adore the Night ☾ (Jeanette Winterson)

“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau

(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.

Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau

(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)

Haruki Murakami's— "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" #💕☔#🌿☁

...

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her. .

.

Source: Gravitytrope | On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning — Haruki Murakami

My goal in life is to be one of those people who are just light. You see them and you suddenly feel so warm inside and all you want to do is hug them. And they look at you and smile with the warmest light in their eyes…. and you love them.

Maybe not in a romantic way but you just want to be close to them and you hope some of their light transfers onto you. 🌿

Walking on foot brings you down to the very stark, naked core of existence. We travel too much in airplanes and cars. It’s an existential quality that we are losing. It’s almost like a credo of religion that we should walk.

There is, of course, something inherently romantic—if not heroic—about the extreme solitary explorer enveloped by nature. The very image of Herzog on foot recalls the iconic 19th-century paintings of Caspar David Friedrich, especially his Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, with its lone figure staring out at the wide vista above the clouds.

'Truth itself wanders through the forests,' Herzog writes near the end. Yet here he embroiders his memories for effect: The vast swath of geography between Munich and Paris is littered with industrial towns and cities.

Once he comes out on the other end, traversing the deforested Champs-Élysées (“We were close to what they call the breath of danger”), Herzog emerges victorious.

― Of Walking in Ice: (Munich-Paris, 23 November–14 December 1974)

by Werner Herzog

Source: Werner Herzog’s Maniacal Quests ―A newly published travel journal shows how walking, like filmmaking, brings us to the naked core of existence. (Noah Isenberg)

"The truth is, your lifestyle is not defined by the things you live with, but by the way you live and the happiness it brings to yourself and others." 🌟 🌈 ⋅

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

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sakura (桜) cherry blossom air

“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau

(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)

“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau

(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)

La vie est belle or life is beautiful—the expression of a new era.

Walking on foot brings you down to the very stark, naked core of existence. We travel too much in airplanes and cars. It’s an existential quality that we are losing. It’s almost like a credo of religion that we should walk.

There is, of course, something inherently romantic—if not heroic—about the extreme solitary explorer enveloped by nature. The very image of Herzog on foot recalls the iconic 19th-century paintings of Caspar David Friedrich, especially his Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, with its lone figure staring out at the wide vista above the clouds.

'Truth itself wanders through the forests,' Herzog writes near the end. Yet here he embroiders his memories for effect: The vast swath of geography between Munich and Paris is littered with industrial towns and cities.

Once he comes out on the other end, traversing the deforested Champs-Élysées (“We were close to what they call the breath of danger”), Herzog emerges victorious.

― Of Walking in Ice: (Munich-Paris, 23 November–14 December 1974)

by Werner Herzog

Source: Werner Herzog’s Maniacal Quests ―A newly published travel journal shows how walking, like filmmaking, brings us to the naked core of existence. (Noah Isenberg)

Walking on foot brings you down to the very stark, naked core of existence. We travel too much in airplanes and cars. It’s an existential quality that we are losing. It’s almost like a credo of religion that we should walk.

There is, of course, something inherently romantic—if not heroic—about the extreme solitary explorer enveloped by nature. The very image of Herzog on foot recalls the iconic 19th-century paintings of Caspar David Friedrich, especially his Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, with its lone figure staring out at the wide vista above the clouds.

'Truth itself wanders through the forests,' Herzog writes near the end. Yet here he embroiders his memories for effect: The vast swath of geography between Munich and Paris is littered with industrial towns and cities.

Once he comes out on the other end, traversing the deforested Champs-Élysées (“We were close to what they call the breath of danger”), Herzog emerges victorious.

― Of Walking in Ice: (Munich-Paris, 23 November–14 December 1974)

by Werner Herzog

Source: Werner Herzog’s Maniacal Quests ―A newly published travel journal shows how walking, like filmmaking, brings us to the naked core of existence. (Noah Isenberg)

"Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none" — William Shakespeare

Yet there are always a few who are not content to spend their lives indoors. Simply knowing there is something unknown beyond their reach makes them acutely restless. They have to see what lies outside – if only, as George Mallory said of Everest, 'because it’s there.'

This is true of adventurers of every kind, but especially of those who seek to explore not mountains or jungles but consciousness itself: whose real drive, we might say, is not so much to know the unknown as to know the knower.

Such men and women can be found in every age and every culture. While the rest of us stay put, they quietly slip out to see what lies beyond.

— Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, The Bhagavad Gita (Foreword by Eknath Easwara)

Finally, spring has sprung & everyone is rejoicing, so good to feel the warm sun

on our skin once more after a long cold winter! Enjoy my friends =))

“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau

(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)

Haruki Murakami's— "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" #💕☔#🌿☁

...

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her. .

.

Source: Gravitytrope | On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning — Haruki Murakami

"The truth is, your lifestyle is not defined by the things you live with, but by the way you live and the happiness it brings to yourself and others." 🌟 🌈 ⋅

“This is what you shall do;

Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

― Walt Whitman

“In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavad gita, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions.

I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

Haruki Murakami's— "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" #💕☔#🌿☁

...

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don’t you think?

Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her. .

.

Source: Gravitytrope | On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning — Haruki Murakami

“Learning became her.

She loved the smell of the book from the shelves, the type on the pages, the sense that the world was an infinite but knowable place.

Every fact she learned seemed to open another question, and for every question there was another book.”

— Robert Goolrick

Hello Spring!

Yaaaay finally spring is here, let's celebrate this new season of the year with a 60% off discount storewide this weekend!!!

(Gachas and current sales not included)

And this weekend we are participating at Happy Weekend by Access! You can find the Irina skirt for only 60L$ each color and 50% off fatpack :D

Love, Safira ♥

"It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for miles with no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets.

It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to point B.

The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way."

— Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

I was waiting for her a long time, here she is.

Knipsonautenprojekt: Tiere.

Please! View On Black

sakura (桜) cherry blossom air さくら 🌸🍃

Time after time

Alone in the city of whirling blossoms

Those petals fly in the whirling wind

The miracle of meeting you

In a city where the wind whispered through

The hanamidou tells of the end of spring

One petal from this misty flower.

Time After Time (花舞う街で) // In the Street of Dancing Flowers — Mai Kuraki

[theme song for Detective Conan: Crossroad in the Ancient Capital]

sakura (桜) cherry blossom air さくら 🌸🍃

Time after time

Alone in the city of whirling blossoms

Those petals fly in the whirling wind

The miracle of meeting you

In a city where the wind whispered through

The hanamidou tells of the end of spring

One petal from this misty flower.

Time After Time (花舞う街で) // In the Street of Dancing Flowers — Mai Kuraki

[theme song for Detective Conan: Crossroad in the Ancient Capital]

sakura (桜) cherry blossom air

www.facebook.com/OlgaFerrerPhotography

“Learning became her.

She loved the smell of the book from the shelves, the type on the pages, the sense that the world was an infinite but knowable place.

Every fact she learned seemed to open another question, and for every question there was another book.”

— Robert Goolrick

Model: IT 2023 The Moments Collection: Naturally Cool ~ Ayumi Nakamura™

Fashion & Accessories: #IntegrityToys