Monday, 30 July 2012


In the same way that they grow heavy winter coats, the cats seem to assume attributes of wildness when the summer is thick and green and feral - they're stalking around with saucer eyes and tails grown several inches longer, claws unsheathed, and so am I ... days stuck into Mary Daly's supremely witchy Wickedary plus evenings immersed in an unlikely viewing assemblage of Agnetha Fältskog via Maya Deren and Barbara Hammer are hardly a cure for such terminal concupiscence I suppose ...

Absolutely thrilled with all the lovely emails and inquiries I've gotten in the past week!  So, so much more to come ... xx

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