Try not.
Do.
Or do not.
There is no try.
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Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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For the day I get sick of my pristine white kitchen.
(Source: thatkitchen)
How many legs does it take to hold up one ass?
(Source: thatbedroom)
With my lousy painting skills, perhaps everything I attempt to paint should be in this style.
Strangely drawn to this wine rack.
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Surely this is an “I also can make” mural.
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I could never commit to a wallpaper that striking. But what is the point of wallpaper that just blends into the, errr, wall?
