5. my fair kingdom of lies


In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I’ll write a novel, I thought. And then I did. (Charles Bukowski)


Beauty will be convulsive, or not at all. (Andre Breton)


Writers are liars, my dear. (Neil Gaiman)


Since as far as I can remember, I’ve wanted to write a novel. After a very long time of “trying to write” and being dissatisfied with the results, I may have finally given up on the single-minded view that a book is the only medium in which I will be able to portray the little truths – bits and pieces of myself – I’ve tried to show. Photographs are my stories now.



7 thoughts on “5. my fair kingdom of lies

  1. somehow the imagery in the first photo…takes me to a place…a time…a thought…just can’t remember…anymore…chuckle…

      • frankly…it evokes the good ole’ days when smoking was not forbidden…typewriters typed…and lace tablecloths were on all dinning tables…and the crumbs lay between the cutouts…just remembering…a picture is worth…what is it they say…

      • of course there is more…for another time perhaps…smile…(like to write out my emotions)…chuckle…too…

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