A Thousand Yards Between the blossom trees and along the straight, gravelled avenue the tall chimney rises. The polished steel is hot and deranges the stark slate of the blue sky beyond. You took one thousand strokes on a… Continue Reading
On Monday there was a wicker chair, its threads woven into the frame in a lacklustre taupe next to a rusted lamp stand. The shade askew and its plastic backing peeling. On the Wednesday it rained and the soaked… Continue Reading
Love your work I bet John Key says it to his PA as he flings an important file on their desk at 4.58pm. I bet Kim Dotcom says it awkwardly I larve your verk! I can hear it coming from… Continue Reading