I was lost in a pressed world of my memories between sand and dirt.

A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.
Albert Camus

the sun washed out the stars that caused the cease of the night for a possibility of a kiss

all I do these days is black and white, though I only believe in grey.

“Each of us is in truth an idea of the Great gull, an unlimited idea of freedom, and precision flying is a step towards expressing our real nature. Everything that limits us we have to put aside. That’s why all this high-speed practice, and low speed, and aerobatics…” “Your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip is nothing more than your thought itself, in a form you can see. Break the chains of your thoughts, and you break the chains of your body, too…”-JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGUL

Oregon.
Orleans.
Colorado.

Rules for Happiness:
something to do,
someone to love,
something to hope for."

Each dull wooden stalactite
Of rain creaks, hardened by the light

Sounding like an overtone
From some lonely world unknown.

sometimes nothing is the most important thing.