At Cuenca Park on April 25, waiting for the Grand Entrance of La Luna

shot through the bedroom window

first harvest for the summer from our duhat tree

an October afternoon in Serendra (the Fort).

...on the occasion of the Vernal Equinox...

We have no seasons. Here there is no spring,
Except an impression fleeting, a feeling
of joy and freedom and life
lived in unbridled truth and oneness
of being

Imagine me waving au revoir and vavooooo. I'm off for a holiday with friends and may not be able to phlog for a couple of weeks. 'Til then, mes amis...
But when I get to Paris
We'll paint all our portraits
In brush-strokes of yellow
And christen the canvas
The left bank is crying
For colour to crown it
Like the roof of a palace
We'll drink in the amber
When I get to Paris
"Paris" by Elton John