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Naomi Allee

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

– Jack Kerouac

SeekIng uncoMPLication
by any means necEssary

SIMPLE

All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.

-Khalil Gibran

wet paint late nights sharp types plane rides loose lines ink splash movements past

Rhyming a Few of my Favorite Things