In no applause did I find themHung by my sides or laid in bedHolding food or steepledPatted, pointing, or reachingKept still or pressed to type keysBut a glimpseNot full sight till the challengeIn the stings and scrapesRaked by scars or wet with bloodI saw my hands. By J.W.H. Hobbs Have a wonderful week.
Within this website, you will have noticed our preference of shade over colour. Black and white. The reasoning was simple, but if you don’t mind, one with a story I would like to share. Art comes from something beyond us, usually with ingredients, gears, and efforts unseen by many parties. The idea to make it this way is simple: to […]