Bucket list item.
Into The Woods.
The fear of being found.
R & J.
A Bostonian Wedding. And Bowling.
Dépaysement.
Some days come in strange colours.
I & V & M.
Im Wendland.
At Last.
You swallowed everything, like distance. Like the sea, like time, in everything you sank.
Edda.
All the small things.
The Suburbs.
In every dream home a heartache.
Nostalgia.
Of that which no longer is.
Off In The.
Life during wartime.
That Time.
But you do remember never to remember it.
A Star.
And tonight I didn't even have to go somewhere eerie.
Mångata.
So, that is how an over-exposed moon would look like. Just in case anyone wondered.
Møns Klint.
Flâner à la Caspar David.
Rorschach Revisited.
I was planning to clean an ink pen. And now there is this.
William C. Sayles.
I have selected this Commencement, when my dear son, if living, would have graduated, for the expression of what I hope will be regarded with favor, in order that when his classmates are conferring credit on their Alma Mater, his brief life may also not be without a beneficial influence on the institution he loved so well.
Hurricane.
And when he'll leave you will finally know why storms are named after people.
DEs.
That fantastic moment when you figure out your camera can do proper double exposures, and then all you can find are white roses.
Jazz Cat.
In New York City, even the cats have exquisite taste in music.
At Belle Isle.
No one ever saw it coming.