how important is importance? does it matter? does such a thing exist?

daruma’s blind eye sees red. erasing blindness is imperative to seeing things in black and white.

another ode to sound and/or noise and/or music. the end of another week brings rain to my window. it patters. it spatters. and i can’t sleep.

meandering the geometry of music, i find myself running around in circles: perhaps silence is the ultimate aesthetic expression of sound.

run one:

run two:

run three:

run four:

my new home is not as cold as i had expected it to be. hours later i realise that i must have spoken too soon.

exonian christmases are: ducks that wish people a happy holiday season (part one), immigrants try to appease their kids by taking them out for walks/ATM machines don’t work (part two), two north africans walk and talk away the quiet afternoon/still having ATM trouble (part three), the city streets are claimed by armies of seagulls and gutted bags of rubbish (part four).

how enlightening.

finally, she’s gone. (at least for tonight.)

which came first: the flowerpot or the book? no answers to cliché questions.

who needs erutcurts when you have the possibility to epacse? who needs emit when you have ecaps? 

water, gardens, walking philosophers, crunching apples: my backyard is actually a forest. funny how cold it can get.