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The future belongs to those who
believe in the beauty of their dreams.

— Eleanor Roosevelt

It’s a pasta party while floating in the sea with your friends.

It’s a Matisse odalisque.

It’s digging your toes down deep to find the still warm sand on a cold day at the beach.

It’s Picasso on Christmas.

It’s hosting a cocktail party at home and never getting out of your pajamas.

It’s psychedelic print ALL OVER.

It’s Mick and Bianca on tour.

It’s a bed-in.

It’s bathtub sofas and martinis.

It’s drawing on the walls.

It’s Linda, Cindy, Helena, Naomi and Kate. OG.

It’s a good novel at work.

It’s a David Hockney pool.

It’s resting your head in the laps of loved ones.

It’s grass between your toes.

It’s a surfer sock hop.

It’s a siesta with Diego and Frida.

It’s an adventure without a journey.

It’s a picnic with too much food.

It’s your dog cleaning your plate at the table.

It’s love because hate is a burden.

It’s YSL in Morocco.

It’s a tower of hammocks.

It’s music at magic hour.

It’s Dali painting in the sun.

It’s swimming in the newspaper on Sunday.

It’s luxury but not expense.

THESE ARE THE GLAD HOURS

© 2016 The Glad Hours — Site created by Mote in California