In need of some feedback here. I have two versions of difference. The first used a very cartoon-like thought bubble. The more I looked at it over the course of the day and the photographs I used, the more I felt I hadn’t done justice to the brick. So I produced a more formal image. Feedback and let me know which one you prefer.
See other images stacked in the cupboard in Poetry Jars
Andrea and John didn’t seem to notice, focusing on the first of the bubbles to reach the surface. John reached down, the movement of his arm tracing a glowing arc through the air. Andrea was giggling and running her fingers…
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Another story from the archives. Transformation story.
Already there are missing parts. I share the knowledge of the First Transition which the sands pour into my mind every day. It becomes clearer, the connection between us all. Now I have only a few images of them. I see my mother sweeping all of the sand out of the house to…
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First published in 2011, tonight’s reblogged story is a chilling tale of dreamscape detective work.
This incident in itself would seem curious enough to most if it wasn’t for the fact that exactly seven minutes after the beasts had filled the ground floor spaces of the hotel causing countless damages, they had disappeared without any trace of exit or…
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How can it be that when we speak
A difference clearly I can see,
And yet when I look in your eyes
there are mine in perfect symmetry?
From the Archives… Written in 2011.
Our relations with the objects in our houses are close. Our desires give them a life, purpose, a quest for harmony. Less useful and unpleasant objects are placed in less prominent places, sometimes banished to drawers and cupboards or at worst disposed of and discarded. We judge ourselves on our ability to manage and control our objects and our objects compete against each other for dominance within the environment. There is a certain symbiosis.
This was all explained to me by Alice Milner over coffee…
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