an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Sunday, December 17, 2006

. . . . . . .


Woke in a terrible way. Confused. Regretful. And without a clear memory of what I wanted done. Then, this photo, taken in April of this year, was in my head. Like my double, half closed or all. Didn't take long to find it.


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

[contact me:]

what o'clock it is


live flowers