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"THIN LIZZY"
2 FEBBRAIO 2011
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© 2010 ELENA DI VINCENZO ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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thanks to LiveNation and Rockzilla
A dream postman is born sharply at midnight, at the last strike of the clock. His elephant-like body is all covered with an abundance of pockets, each of which holds a dream: good colourful dreams and ropy black-and-white nightmares, pieces of childhood memories, sets of incoherent pictures, random voices, music that will never be composed, visions of non-existent cities, faces long forgotten, faces that one cannot forget.
As soon as the dream is delivered to the recipient, the pocket is stitched up. Each postman receives a daily dose of human dreams, and he has to deliver them in 24 hours. When the clocks start striking midnight, the old postman vanishes into the thin air, and with the last strike the new one is born. There are no dreams that can be seen between the first and the last strike of the clock.
A variation on the Thin Mint scarf.
DomiKNITrix design protected by copyright, knitting pattern in my book.
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By our standards, Roman houses were tiny. When you look at some of these buildings, and try to imagine a shop and a family's living space crammed into a couple of rooms, it really makes you appreciate what you've got.
Thin Lizzy performing at the O2 Academy, Bournemouth 29.11.12
Full set:
www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151175001278507.46140...
All rights reserved
Frosted spider web (best viewed large).
Shame about the slightly distracting background!
Shot in RAW, processed using GIMP - moving away from photoshop.
You can imagine almost anything in the forest, superhuman strength or incredible adventure, no one can tell you otherwise. The time I spend alone saves me from getting lost in what I'm not, easier to believe in simple things that fit with no religion or system. I'm happier here than I have any reason for being, rolling along in the high heat and low pressure of woods under rain. The wind does damage in the most beautiful patterns, every few paces is another trunk upended, caught in the treetops or come crashing on the trail. Ocean weather makes an impact on a thin skin forest, where the trees grow tall just to tumble under their weight, ripping roots with no deep grip in the earth. Yanked out by fistfuls, scattered like twigs, a beautiful, natural mess of things. Just wouldn't be the same without the passionate disorder, always almost out of line, and loving it.
May 30, 2020
Black Rock, Nova Scotia
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