#JANUARY

[rokonrrc2]

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ᴇᴢʀᴀ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ᴋᴇᴀᴛs Artwork from his 1962 book The Snowy Day.

[kojiarakiartworks]

January 2018 PDX Portland Oregon U.S.A. 

HACHI🐾✨🦴✨🐾

© KOJI ARAKI Art Works

Daily life and every small thing is the gate to the universe ：）

[afiyatahseenkhan]

The clock strikes twelve, and yet, nothing feels new— except the weight of another year without you.

-AFIYA TAHSEEN KHAN

[gogogoat495]

[ID: Post by @tatersgonnatate reading "Saw a trans pride flag sun rise" with a photo of a foggy winter forest with mostly bare trees. The low light makes the snow blue, and the sky is still blue itself, with cloudy stripes of pink, white, and pink again at the horizon, visible through the trees. /End ID]

cant reblog the og post so sharing it this way instead

[earththings]

[gifs-of-puppets]

Happy New Year!

[squeakowl]

X

Winter tastes like…the comforting-sharp medley of hot cocoa stirred with a peppermint stick. Mentholated cough drops, eaten like candy, just as a precaution. The hot crunch of generously buttered toast liberally spread with homemade raspberry jam like the sugary ghost of last summer’s fruit. Orange and chocolate, and spicy chai, creamy and hot. The mineral-bitter quench of snow mixed with fluff from knitted mittens. Creamy vanilla, white as snow, and maple syrup drizzled onto undisturbed snow. Chapstik, and damp scarf fabric, pulled over your nose for warmth. Sticky candy canes, and johnnycakes slathered with butter. Cloves and cinnamon, and snowflakes caught on your tongue, tasting of practically nothing at all. Pomegranates, bursting like bloody sweet jewels between your teeth. Boxes of fancy chocolates, and maple-baked ham. Canapes from a holiday party that are somehow spectacularly delicious simply because you did not make them yourself. Oatmeal with brown sugar, butter, and milk. Spicy mulled wine, and Christmas cake slathered with custard sauce. Pilfered hors d'oeuvres from a platter meant for party guests, and the resinous tang of pine-needle-pricked fingers, hastily stuck in your mouth to soothe the prickle. English breakfast tea with milk and sugar, and hot water with honey, and lemon, and ginger juice. Champagne, and the papery end of a New Year’s noisemaker. Gingerbread cookies, and confetti stuck to your lips. Blood from cold-cracked lips, split from a sledding-induced smile. Acrid, resinous pine sap, refusing to be washed off your hands, and beeswax under your fingernail. Popcorn and cranberries, and dried figs. Roasted chicken, and hot fudge.

Winter tastes like…spices and mint.

~ The Taste of Winter (4/4); April 9th, 2016

[ed13d1]

long way home

[dk-thrive]

Here comes the Sun. 6:30 to 7:20 am. 23° F. January 18, 2024. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. (@dkct25)

[kojiarakiartworks]

January 2018 PDX Portland Oregon U.S.A. 

HACHI🐾✨🦴✨🐾

© KOJI ARAKI Art Works

Daily life and every small thing is the gate to the universe ：）

[jul-27]

e.

[petaltexturedskies]

Jean-Paul Sartre

[fatimazainab]

E.M. Forster // Louise Glück

[squeakowl]

X

Winter smells like…wet wool outer garments, and closet-crushed down coats fluffed and revitalized. Chapstick on your lips, and mentholated cough drop vapors snaking up the back of your nose. Gritty city slush, and scentless snowfall that is somehow still scented. Road salt, yeasty and sharp, and musty, breath-fogged cars. Dusty steam-heat drying out the room, and a crackling fireplace smelling like wood and warmth. Orange-spice tea with honey and lemon. Hot, sticky cinnamon rolls on an early Christmas morning. Fresh-cut Christmas tree sap, stuck to the floor. The warm plastic-and-wire aroma of twinkly lights. Antique tissue paper wrapped around glass ornaments, and pine needles from last year caught in wire hooks. Burnt hot candle wax, narrowly avoiding the nice tablecloth, and the tarnish on the good silver. Rich spices and orange peel, simmering on the stove, and hot melted maple syrup on snow, quickly cooling and turning gooey. Whole oranges studded with cloves and rolled in cinnamon. Warm flannel pajamas, and hand-knit things. Fresh rolls of giftwrap, and the tang of plastic tape. Your favorite blanket, brought out of storage, smelling like last-year’s Christmas dinner, and sixteen different kinds of cookies, all at once.Winter smells like…love and comfort.

~ The Scent of Winter (4/4); Oct. 1st, 2015