new hampshire.

new hampshire.

1 note

the reddest red door, cobble hill, brooklyn.

the reddest red door, cobble hill, brooklyn.

7 notes

Covered

Through revolving doors
We walk each night
Matching minutes

The overlay of the sky
Grows dark, dark,
Darker

Down the stairs, light
Follows me, but up
I’m greeted by black

I add a layer each night
With greater weight
I am covered

1 note

train stops, japan.

2 notes

japan landscapes | train travel.

6 notes

shinkansen.
somewhere in japan.

shinkansen.

somewhere in japan.

4 notes

towards hiroshima. 

3 notes

shibuya crossing, tokyo.

shibuya crossing, tokyo.

1 note

somewhere in tokyo.

somewhere in tokyo.

1 note

central park, manhattan.

central park, manhattan.

3 notes

preparations. 

cobble hill, brooklyn.

6 notes

Travel is useful. It exercises the imagination. All the rest is disappointment and fatigue. Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength. It goes from life to death. People, animals, cities, things – all are imagined. It’s a novel, just a fictitious narrative. Littré said so, and he’s never wrong. Besides, anyone can do it. You just have to close your eyes.

Louis-Ferdinand Céline

5 notes

uneo park, tokyo.

uneo park, tokyo.

3 notes

wan chai, hong kong.

3 notes

hamamatsu, japan.

hamamatsu, japan.

1 note