pilgrimsprite pilgrimsprite

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Anne T. ✨😊  A gratitude gallery Living in a world of wonder “You just have to live and life will give you pictures.” - Henri Cartier-Bresson 💫📕📱NY-MNL-wherever

http://www.facebook.com/annefrancia

Pretty rooms

Brunch at one of my favorite museum restaurants

Alice: Where should I go?
Cheshire Cat: That depends on where you want to end up.
--- Lewis Carroll, "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"
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One of the pleasures of running in the streets of New York and just going where my feet take me is discovering hidden enclaves like this.

I'm never gonna be that girl
Who's living in a Barbie world ...
Oh, I don't know what you've been told
But this gal right here's gonna rule the world
Yeah, that is where I'm gonna be because I wanna be
No, I don't wanna sit still, look pretty -- Daya 🎧🏃🏻‍♀️
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Spring-like in the city today

I 💝 New York bodegas.

Spring in winter
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Perfect temps for thinking out loud with Justin, Adam, Bruno, Jason, Ed ... 🏃🏻‍♀️🎧

"Gardez bien en vous ce trésor, la gentillesse. Sachez donner sans retenue, perdre sans regret, acquérir sans mesquinerie." - George Sand
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Sunday thoughts 💭... while waiting for laundry. 🤓

Toto and Cinema Paradiso endings

"Dreams and possibilities are dangerous. They could lead to dancing." -- Arik Hesseldahl on FB today
@ahess247

Pick a song.

"Je raffole de trois choses: des voyages, de Paris ... et de vous." -- Colette, "Claudine en ménage"

Some Mary Oliver tonic for an extraordinarily toxic week in America
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I know someone who kisses the way
a flower opens, but more rapidly.
Flowers are sweet. They have
short, beatific lives. They offer
much pleasure. There is
nothing in the world that can be said
against them.
Sad, isn't it, that all they can kiss
is the air.

Yes, yes! We are the lucky ones.
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Over a century ago, grandparents of these irises inspired Van Gogh to paint his series. This is the same garden he saw from his asylum bedroom window.

"Oui, je promets, je jure de faire de mon côté tous mes efforts pour recouvrer ma raison, ou concentrer au fond de mon âme le trouble que j'y sens naître: mais par pitié, détourner de moi ces yeux si doux qui me donnent la mort ..." -- Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "La nouvelle Héloïse"