...

There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture in the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep see, and music in its roars.
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, from which i steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal.

comfort.

home. 

lazy weekend.

ginger lemon tilapia with rice.

the sterile soil.

Digital Output, 2012

there are these campaigns of wheat,

streets light with iphones and bills are forgiven.

people of plastic speak to the city - 

can you help me find a post-modern author? 

noise, with the promise to serenade - 

all is old and all is new in this fictitious space, 

lets travel through the atmosphere of the city. 

sparkle in the sky

echoes and ripples.

intersecting circles.

Digital Output, 2012

she was a real royal lady, true patron of the arts

she said the best country singers die in the back of classic cars

so if i ever got too hungry for a suitcase or guitar

to think of them all alone in the dark...

-'classic cars', bright eyes