"'When?', said the moon to the stars in the sky
'Soon', said the wind that followed him home
'Who?', said the cloud that started to cry
'Me', said the rider as dry as a bone
'How?', said the sun melted the ground
'Why?', said the river that refused to run
'Where?', said the thunder without a sound
'Here', said the rider and took up his gun"
- The Proposition
I seem to have watched an obscene number of films in the past 3 weeks and i'm nowhere near done yet. Sometimes i worry that i love the music and film world more than my chosen path but i'm told it's quite normal.
Is it?
I'm hoping so, otherwise i'm in a heap of artistic trouble!
I'd quite like to
read The Unbearable Lightness of Being and The Wasp Factory, will i ever get round to doing so? Not likely as i haven't even finished The Master and Margarita yet. I suck at the literature game.
No new artwork to share as i'm lazy and haven't photographed anything yet, can you inject enthusiasm? I did however stumble across Alexey Titarenko, who enviably manages to show lamenting souls far better than i have yet managed. Damn him.
cathy davey - reuben
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