(Source: pastellish, via destructivemusic)
(Source: pastellish, via destructivemusic)
We, his children, naturally agreed wholeheartedly that he did look a little ridiculous kissing girls and playing the juvenile because we did not feel that parents were supposed to do things like that, and he always roared with laughter and agreed that we were right: “I look like a silly old fool…” To me, he was the nightly story-teller, lying on my be and sleepily inventing characters for my amusement: “Go on, Daddy!” “Oh… where was I?” “The little girl had just found the golden apple.” “Ah yes, an apple… a beautiful, round… shiny… golden…” And he would be asleep again. I never minded… and let him sleepy happily every night on my bed until someone shook him and chased him off to the theater for the evening performance.
(Source: gregorypecks, via haroldlloyds)
(Source: intergalactikdisko, via eridark)
Eartha Kitt by Gordon Parks,
July, 1952
(Source: randomnessasusual)
(Source: clemmbot, via destructivemusic)