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:
http://www.talking-heads.net/gal_db_photoworks.html
Reminds me of this:
http://www.walkernewyork.com/mt-photo/archives/2004_02.html#000399
Late night loneliness.
Escape from the prison of north america.