"Feed me blueberries on a Sunday afternoon. We'll call it church."

– Brooke Solis

Are photos dead?

dreamy days on the floor.

by brooke solis.

“I used to be a wild thing once. I will be again”.  – Brooke Solis

the life of a writer: a low lit desk, dripping candles, hot coffee, and a thousand ideas with only two hands.

"Have you got the audacity to be a rebellious woman? I hope so. "

– Brooke Solis, Writer & Artist

“The sun is glorious but you can’t see the stars in the burning sun. The light is glorious but I can’t see the real you, without the dark.”

—

Brooke Solis

Healing is a dirty process. It’s not weightless. It doesn’t feel like one of those sweet full moons. It feels like broken bones and rotting flowers and relentless pain. It’s an internal chaos and it is laced with darkness, with broken mirrors, with injured howling. It growls and cracks and hurts. It grabs the back of your neck and forces you to stare at the shadows inside of yourself. It strips you down until you’re shivering and broken and whimpering. And when it has you there, naked in the dirt of your own undoing and you think you’ll die at the feet of this process – it bends down, puts its lips against your heart and kisses until something in you, sews back together.

– Brooke Solis, Writer & Artist

"Over the years to come, I hope we live voluptuous lives outside of our lives on the internet."

An Ode to Slowness - an excerpt from a written series on Patreon by Brooke Solis

old books & perfume bottles.

photo by brooke solis.

vamp.

"I’ve found myself in empty dresses scattered across the floor more than I’ve ever found myself anywhere else."

Brooke Solis