Like everybody else who stumbles in the flea market directionless of fuzzy focus many bristle heads full of static I was also blown here by a lukewarm wind. And sometimes I will fall into a spell my reflection in … Continue reading →
Labyrinth littered with abandoned cups, no longer does a ring long hold a set and even if it were to catch the sun the light would be too sharp in flashy glass of diamonds that may not really be. … Continue reading →