Alive among the detritus & decay
Today was mossy, verdant, dank and damp. My hands still bear the faint traces of fir needles ground into wet dirt.
Today was mossy, verdant, dank and damp. My hands still bear the faint traces of fir needles ground into wet dirt.
This is a birthday gift I recently did for a friend of mine. Paint pens on part of an old door found in the alley, that I ripped apart. Green paint is original, which is why it caught my eye in the first place. I had planned on using the entire door frame on which I’d staple unstretched canvas, but it was so rickety and full of bugs that I ended up salvaging the good boards and ditching the rest.Read More
Outside the window, the sound of an old-fashioned, metal sewing machine is chugging away erratically, mixing with the music of the birds, the dogs, the chickens, the donkeys, the children playing soccer across the street, the cars beeping up on the main road, the lorries laying on their horns, and the hammering of construction somewhere nearby. The breeze is cool and life-giving in the heat of this second-floor room. Yesterday, I arrived in Faizabad via a UN flight from Kabul.Read More