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Fuck you. Just, fuck you.

On the way to Pandora. He decided to be a pre-raphaelite model in a tree..

I really need to sew, or implode.

I have decided that McCann should get his own folder, he does love looking at himself..haha.

”..if I touched your face
with my little finger
doesn’t that
explain
more than any concatenation of words would explain
it’s like words are
getting from a-b-c
but not to d..”

According to the contents of my late Grandmas house, I don’t exist. Even though our time alive did cross over.

Theres a bookshop near here that I want to live in.

A Jammed Camera and all.

We all love Lana’s arm, right? Taken while on a hot date in the pub with our Pentax 67’s and Land Camera..not forgetting the lovely Trip. Really it was more like a prelude to an orgy.

Edit: Forgot the Holga! (Bad Naughty Wicked Susie!)

When my Grandparents moved into the house they planted a Willow tree near the bottom of the garden; the year my Grandad died, the tree died.

Marie S.