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KARBORN - I - I - I
Sticky trainers on dirty streets. The horizontal light makes gold trees with concrete boxes left and right and centre. Blue and cold and fresh. There were adventures to be had in a city like this, both old and new. The desire to be independent and to be the trees, not stuck in stone like concrete.

Pockets full of gold leaf but usually no gold to spend. Imagination made most of it, when your poor you knew it was because you had got a bit comfortable or had not been quick enough. It still happened often, though. The girl in the window winks. She is pretty an all. Ain't so bad then.

The road gets layered and clever as you walk and move and glow. Changing groups and individuals enter into the manifestations. Some keep you sane and evolve ideas, some work with you, the best kind are very different... An element you miss in yourself, and they miss in you. Those relationships go deeper than a moments need, and seemed to be honest.

Look there, just there, deep in the shining, glowing flowers of the living world is a natural language of empathy and beauty.

The mind makes imaginations. It manifests. Midnight in London, the only time you can feel the solitude is in quiet streets and along the canals. An old receipt drops from your pocked as you pull out a lighter.
"What always makes you feel alone? Do you want to be alone?" said the night.
"Do you want to be a monk, suffering? Sacrifice your life for this then, to it, be it, or it will offer you nothing." said the wind.
"Do you want to feel the world? Feel deeply and colourfully? Then do not be lazy" said the earth.

There is no face. Sharp alien features dock grass eyes and sunshine freckles. The fox sits and watches from a wall. Step in the circles, watch the rhythm for the beat, and move in and out of time together. Where was I trying to go? Paint hits my shoes, my eyes are bleeding. Beautiful white cloth frames and billows across her elegant face. Long slender limbs hold my hands, pull me up. Touch, a scent like honey and hops and warm skin and grass. Clouds move by her hair and stories of unity and the infinite fall as each lock drops. "Stand and face towards the water, I want to take a photograph." You whisper as the subject of your life is under your eye once more, and you create again.

Dark blue jeans. The oversized hood. The rucksack. Walking along pavements with a mind in hand. Trying for what he might, to build, to make projects. Not just to exist, but to meet all desires.



Burning Car - Edition - /5 only



outerspace-spray-sync-ORIGINAL

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very limited set of /10 'dream mirror portal' prints. .. and these ones are for charity.