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21 February 2010 @ 10:18 pm
 
 
 
17 February 2010 @ 11:53 pm
another shadow puppet video I made recently.
Music is 'Dying Breed' by Marissa Nadler, so so pretty

 
 
 
 
11 February 2010 @ 03:04 pm







 Visiting one of my most favorite book stores yesterday, I managed to get
lost for hours. The kind of book store that feels sleepy, quiet, and forgotten and everything is yellow and brown with age.
When it's gray and snowing outside, I could spend all day walking up and down the rows of literature,
astronomy, and geology books. Books about the Hokkaido Wolf and the Newfoundland Wolf and other extinct mammals. Books on battles, Geisha, Iceland raths, how to build a banjo and learn to play a theremin.
It's such an overwhelming feeling to want to open each and every one. But there are always too many, so I find a place
on the floor in the attic and look at the pictures of
WWII soldiers and ships and maps of Europe that
are always prettier than the ones in my pocket atlas.
I usually buy one book; a hand guide to finding shapes in clouds or an old copy of The Wind in the Willows but there
is always something nice about leaving the other books I've enjoyed behind for someone else to find. More often than not, they
are always there, tucked in the very same place for me to see again when I return.
 
 
08 February 2010 @ 03:03 am
 
 
 
 
06 February 2010 @ 02:58 pm
A few marionettes I've made and a pretty song for you. ♥


 
 



 
 
 
 
01 February 2010 @ 02:48 am


She
could ride through the sky on the floating clouds, straddle the sun and moon,
and travel beyond the four seas.
Neither death nor life can cause changes within her,
and there's little reason for her to even consider benefit or harm.

-Wu Wei  ♥
 
 
 
27 January 2010 @ 04:27 pm







"It was one of those nights, crossing Ireland, motoring through the sleeping towns from Dublin,
where you came upon mist and encountered fog that blew away in rain to become a
blowing silence. All the country was still and cold and waiting. It was a night for
strange encounters at empty crossroads with great filaments of ghost spiderwebs
and no spider in a hundred miles. Gates creaked far across the meadows,
where windows rattled with brittle moonlight. It was as they said, banshee weather." --

Banshee: Bradbury
 
 
 
23 January 2010 @ 06:23 pm
 
 
 
20 January 2010 @ 11:41 pm
 
 
19 November 2009 @ 06:37 pm