moths circling a streetlamp on a warm summer night.
GO HOME?
MOTIF: things that are angels to me WORK IN PROGRESS
a passenger riding the train their only luggage? a guitar.
the spiderweb cracks on the door to the train station; the wires of a computer, veins of a synthetic being; the fractal pattens in the ice crystals in my fridge's ice tray. all these things are angels to me.
a big fluffy white dog, leisurely crossing the road. unbothered by the incoming traffic.
just as i started working on the layout of this page,
i received news of my grandmother's passing.
she was a brilliant woman. this page is now dedicated to her memory.
thank you for everything, mamy. i miss you. i love you.
