Something ’bout Simplicity.

“It’s the little things, but they all add up.”

I sprinkle that mesh of words into scenarios frequently. Because I am a big believer and lover of simplicity. Sure, I absolutely adore the big brimmed hat the shy girl on the corner of Yonge Street is sporting but it’s the way the hat tips and her coat sits and where her purse hits that makes for stronger pictures. Stronger feelings. Everything is art. 

I like messy beds and over worn pyjamas. I like the wild silence on the subway in a car full of fifty strangers. I like uneven footprints in the snow and melting flakes on eyelashes that make your mascara run. I like aged cracks in the pavement and a paper bag caught in the gutter from someone’s lunch. I like worn out edges of over read novels and fingerprints on the car window. I like holes in t-shirts and the sound of coffee brewing at 8am. I like imperfect smiles, frown lines and scars with stories. I like how you look at me. I like empty wine glasses on the counter from the night before and newspapers on the train seat next to you that have been touched by numerous hands. I like water stains on the bathroom mirror and cloudy airplane trails in the sky. I like how you make me feel. I like the souls sense of serendipity and the touch of a first dance. I like blueberry stains on my fingers and the morning after nose scrunch of a too-many-drinks text. I like the lipstick stains on coffee cups and the sound of a key in the lock after a long day. I like you.

Everything is art. -k

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‘The simple things are the most extraordinary things and only the wise can see them.’

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