of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and worst by far is emotional blackmail ... the diligent practise of this subtle and ancient art creates a constantly evolving darwinistic moral vacuum in which the brightest new manipulative ideas and stratagems flourish ... and which only you, or i, can fill !
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
post valentine's confession
i was too tight-fisted to buy a valentine's card so i had to get up early on saturday and re-cycle an image i'd painted for her some years ago when we lived in brighton
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Saturday, February 07, 2009
what a come back
Thursday, February 05, 2009
shakespeare's seventy-third sonnet
That time of year thou may’st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
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