Oh, so this is why I was not able to write a thing here... my head feels like a little mitten around a pulsating little fist that seems to be my collapsed brain. My nose feels as if it were spinning and flashing a red light... my throat feels as if it were a cat stroked into the wrong direction... I will need some rest... will maybe take it a little slower... for now... that's all I can say here... I think... (or I think that I think I think...)


Witold: I love how you created a narrative with a simple lamp and a dark space. Beautiful.

I have seen the light. Thank you Witold, I now know my way. Get well soon.

these somehow remind me of david byrne's chair photos:


Escape from the prison of north america.

Leave a comment

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Witold published on April 16, 2004 12:00 AM.

About forgetfulness, child play, knifes, stones, glass balls and world domination. was the previous entry in this blog.

the dark sleeper car... is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Monthly Archives

OpenID accepted here Learn more about OpenID
Powered by Movable Type 4.25