miércoles, 19 de enero de 2011

words


words had no meaning, no purpose apart from to be spoken for the sake of their sound.
music was the language of the whole. sentences were played all over the air...but the full meaning was unreachable.
far far away, further than time, the lonely sentences were meeting each other and the truth was played with no one to hear it.

martes, 18 de enero de 2011

free

about that delicate drawing shaped by freedom...
about movement
and the beauty hidden in "randomness"

Look at it; could be any other way, but this one is perfect.