heres a bit more picnic love, just for good measure. these were taken a few weeks ago with some pretty old rolls of film and many of them turned out on the underexposed side. still, there were a few that i liked enough to share.

what sort of diary should i like mine to be? something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. i should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through.
virginia woolf
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