She Henry On My Marchbanks Till I Winter

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐲

“Being the only female in what was basically a boys’ club must have been difficult for her. Miraculously, she didn’t compensate by becoming hard or quarrelsome. She was still a girl, a slight lovely girl who lay in bed and ate chocolates, a girl whose hair smelled like hyacinth and whose scarves fluttered jauntily in the breeze. But strange and marvelous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was not the fragile creature one would have her seem.“ - Donna Tartt, The Secret History

the secret history aesthetic

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Lasso

In the hills of Benedict Canyon Love has room to grow in the hills of Benedict Canyon

My green typewriter light is on

and two months’ time between me and my last man

No double murder plots looming over neighbors’ vacant lots that i look upon at twilight, still light enough for the Starline bus to be carrying on. I listen to the hippie spouting nonsense at the foot of Bella Drive hammering on about Sharon and the sanctity of life

I listen on intently

thanks for the free ride

and for reminding me that everything comes down to a story and to laugh when you could cry.

...

- Lana Del Rey, Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass

Oh to have Henry Winter lift me up and carry me back to the lake house, smiling at me and telling me I am as light as a feather after I cut my foot on glass in the lake…

THE SNOW in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.

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“Henry, come on” by Lana oh the name Henry how do I make this about Henry winter? that man owns the name Henry, anytime I read/hear the name Henry I remember that enigmatic creature.