Of Mind and Meadows
Of Mind and Meadows

A compilation of self-portraits and poems by Natalia Sandrine

 Her shadow was of flesh, her body, of unearthly stone

Her shadow was of flesh, her body, of unearthly stone

 To the outside eye she slid over the surface with grace...but she suffered the brutal wear of the coarse and jagged ground--It diminished her, humbled her, and threatened to defeat her

To the outside eye she slid over the surface with grace...but she suffered the brutal wear of the coarse and jagged ground--It diminished her, humbled her, and threatened to defeat her

 That which provokes the storm does not bring cause for thunder and floods--The sky churns in anticipation of reenforcement, a single more drop of dew to overpower the sun

That which provokes the storm does not bring cause for thunder and floods--The sky churns in anticipation of reenforcement, a single more drop of dew to overpower the sun

 She wondered if her soul was truly misplaced or if she was on an endless quest for disappointment

She wondered if her soul was truly misplaced or if she was on an endless quest for disappointment

 She anxiously waited in restless anticipation for patience

She anxiously waited in restless anticipation for patience

 Her tower was built of sorrow and stone and threatened to collapse at any moment

Her tower was built of sorrow and stone and threatened to collapse at any moment

 Catching the moments in life was taking a sip from a roaring waterfall

Catching the moments in life was taking a sip from a roaring waterfall

 While she once spoke in opaque tones of deep violet, she now revealed words of translucent hues of rose     ~Vulnerability

While she once spoke in opaque tones of deep violet, she now revealed words of translucent hues of rose

 

~Vulnerability

IMG_4253.JPG
IMG_4302.JPG
 Where shall she rest if not her body? Where shall she remain if not her soul?

Where shall she rest if not her body? Where shall she remain if not her soul?

 She must hold her sadness in her soul for fear she must otherwise wear it on her skin

She must hold her sadness in her soul for fear she must otherwise wear it on her skin

IMG_4222.JPG
IMG_4226.JPG
IMG_4229.JPG
IMG_4298.JPG
 To have no trust for oneself is worse than to have no eyes, for you are blind but still can see

To have no trust for oneself is worse than to have no eyes, for you are blind but still can see

IMG_4330.JPG
IMG_4366.JPG
IMG_4396.JPG
Of Mind and Meadows
 Her shadow was of flesh, her body, of unearthly stone
 To the outside eye she slid over the surface with grace...but she suffered the brutal wear of the coarse and jagged ground--It diminished her, humbled her, and threatened to defeat her
 That which provokes the storm does not bring cause for thunder and floods--The sky churns in anticipation of reenforcement, a single more drop of dew to overpower the sun
 She wondered if her soul was truly misplaced or if she was on an endless quest for disappointment
 She anxiously waited in restless anticipation for patience
 Her tower was built of sorrow and stone and threatened to collapse at any moment
 Catching the moments in life was taking a sip from a roaring waterfall
 While she once spoke in opaque tones of deep violet, she now revealed words of translucent hues of rose     ~Vulnerability
IMG_4253.JPG
IMG_4302.JPG
 Where shall she rest if not her body? Where shall she remain if not her soul?
 She must hold her sadness in her soul for fear she must otherwise wear it on her skin
IMG_4222.JPG
IMG_4226.JPG
IMG_4229.JPG
IMG_4298.JPG
 To have no trust for oneself is worse than to have no eyes, for you are blind but still can see
IMG_4330.JPG
IMG_4366.JPG
IMG_4396.JPG
Of Mind and Meadows

A compilation of self-portraits and poems by Natalia Sandrine

Her shadow was of flesh, her body, of unearthly stone

To the outside eye she slid over the surface with grace...but she suffered the brutal wear of the coarse and jagged ground--It diminished her, humbled her, and threatened to defeat her

That which provokes the storm does not bring cause for thunder and floods--The sky churns in anticipation of reenforcement, a single more drop of dew to overpower the sun

She wondered if her soul was truly misplaced or if she was on an endless quest for disappointment

She anxiously waited in restless anticipation for patience

Her tower was built of sorrow and stone and threatened to collapse at any moment

Catching the moments in life was taking a sip from a roaring waterfall

While she once spoke in opaque tones of deep violet, she now revealed words of translucent hues of rose

 

~Vulnerability

Where shall she rest if not her body? Where shall she remain if not her soul?

She must hold her sadness in her soul for fear she must otherwise wear it on her skin

To have no trust for oneself is worse than to have no eyes, for you are blind but still can see

show thumbnails