Just updated the shop - and here are some of
the things I´ve put in...
The words on that hanging are a short version
of a poem I wrote the other day, about most
of November having been a decidedly undecided
kind of month, aprillike...
Time herself might feel her age
On becalmed wings
Allowing voids between the seasons
For a while
Where color, constant, climate, can/can-not