I looked down from the balcony last night, and somebody was walking their little black-and-white cat on a lead across the estate. Going out there to smoke has the hazard now of stepping on slugs; that's two in a fortnight. Fortunately, both survived the encounter.(I actually am not grossed out by slugs; it'd be a different matter if I had a garden
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Thank you. The projection is such an important part of it. I am so glad that story resonates with you.
Masks like silver crows descending on an embittered mother in black lace, later to turn witch under a twisting, bloodthirsty moon; a bride hanging in aerial silks; a quick knife-dance with the blade that should have only peeled apples; gorgeous!
I would love even to see pictures of that. The silver crow-masks sound like something of yours.
(It's the second time I've met him this week; but I don't suppose dream-drinks at the Orion Arms quite count. They were hawking old books in a back room. Pick up a volume, you were surprised by an unfinished-looking rag doll whose malevolence went as far as eating beetles. John himself I met by the stage. I'm pretty sure he was nonplussed by the trans* psych-folk band who were ( ... )
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+1.
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I'd like to read some of Not One Of Us to you on Skype; would you like that? :)(And thank you.)
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Thank you very much! :)
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Do you mind if I friend you? This is @funnythat on twitter and I just stumbled upon you via a friend of a friend here on LJ! Whee!
If not, that's fine! And don't feel obligated to friend me back either way - I tend to ramble about horses and anxiety a lot and that's mainly it :)
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I mean, hi. Thanks for letting me know. :)
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