cher monsieur/madame, salut!
i have an affinity for lower-case letters, analog photography, and natural curls. i enjoy short runs on windy beaches, the taste of spiced chai, and existentially fraught free throws. my favorite photographs are black and white (though i occasionally make an exception), my favorite painters are romanticists, my favorite cinematographers shoot with film. j’aime la langue francaise (malheuresment, je ne peut pas pretendre patrimoine francais). excuse my lack of accents.
favorite books: journey to the centre of the earth, mere christianity, like water for chocolate, the illustrated man, the magician king, the fault in our stars, bitterblue
favorite artists: saul leiter, william bougeureau, henri cartier-bresson, vincent van gogh, sally mann, richard avedon, reed morano (dp)
—what a treacherous thing, to believe that a person is more than a person. (paper towns, john green)
—he died after a lengthy battle with human consciousness, a victim - as you will be - of the universe’s need to make and unmake all that is possible. (tfios, john green)
—human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave a certain way, and can’t really get rid of it. (c.s. lewis)
—i didn’t go to religion to make me happy. i always knew a bottle of port would do that. if you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, i certainly don’t recommend christianity. (c.s. lewis)
—it was just that she had the need to tell him something honest, something honest and unhappy, because cheerful lies tonight were too depressing and too sharp, turning in on her like pins. (bitterblue, kristin cashore)