Seven minutes to break your heart…..
There is something fundamental about masks. We have worn them throughout the ages and we wear them figuratively every day. The work of Damselfrau, working name of artist Magnhild Kennedy, is a stunning example of the power and beauty of the Mask.
In Visual Atelier 8, Damselfrau was asked:
It can be argued that the mask exists as an art object, as an investured pseudo personae, as a hiding space, as a symbolic representation, or even as a simple cultural adornment. With this multimodality of meaning in mind, is the mask as everything here stated, and more, or might it in your view, possess one quintessential overarching quality?
In reply she said: The main power is transformative. Most of all it’s simply just fundamentally human, isn’t it?
I also think some things exist past our ability to fully articulate them. A mask belongs there. A part of me wants to know the what and how of them… but then I step back, step back and allow the magic to be there free from dissection and cognitive comprehension. Much like ‘too many cooks spoil the broth’, dissecting something magical robs it of its power and removes its mystery, it takes something wondrous and places it into the mundane.
For me, and it is very personal how creatives tackle this, the alchemy of creating stories and the writing process are in that same situation. I don’t want to dissect a story, I don’t want to disect why it has come to me, or why I am driven to create it; I simply want to be in the experience of creating it.
Damselfrau says something similar about her mask making, she says she doesn’t plan, she just remains present with the mask as it is made, following the journey the materials take her, not trying to plan or ‘design it’ as such.
In my stories, I specifically leave some of the aspects of character and motivation unexplained not only to the reader but to myself as the writer. As a reader and even as a the writer, its comforting to know, to ‘see behind the mask’ of a character. But by getting that insight into a character we categorize them, slip them into a box. Their magic leaks away. Stories and the characters in them need magic and power to make you love them, to have them resonate with their symbolic and archetypal lineage.
The other element of not fully explaining a character is that we are ostensibly hidden from ourselves. We don’t fully know why we do what we do and why we feel as we do, even if we think we do. When I write I don’t always look for answers so much as congruency, that sense that the flow of a character feels right to itself. I think a character can’t be fully revealed and consciously resolved to themselves. As we have our figurative masks in life they do too; they can be resolved to a satisfying level to the reader but not fully and most certainly not to themselves.
As a writer, I find the process of writing one that almost asks me to step into a character much like stepping into the mask, placing it on and looking through it, imbuing oneself with its world view and the world’s view of it.
Have a look at her work and see what you might wear ….. I have chosen some above that would easily part of Elsa’s world….
Michelle Augello, writes creative fiction, erotica and is also an editor for Siren. For those of you that want to publish edgier work go have a look at what Siren does.
Her blog is here https://michelleaugellopage.wordpress.com/
Michelle has some works available and come article links.
I chose the poem below from her blog to share. I am slowly working on a series of erotic shorts around a circus and one is of a knife thrower, the poem reminded me of it. Part of my process writing is that as I start to connect with a story as the mood and ‘swell’ of it starts to come through, I collect things like a crow that relate to what that swell feels like. A collection of symbolic moods and visuals that wraps around the story idea and modd like a caterpillars chrysalis.
This is one of those shinny things my inner crow collected.
I love you like a woman
pinned to a carnival wheel
blindfolded, I spin
taut against splintered wood
my body is a temporal thing
skin, blood, bone
you throw knives
at the negative spaces
between my fingers, along
the line of neck and jaw
I hold my breath. I do not
speak. I don’t want to break
and risk a slip in direction
the sweat on your brow
is glistening in the hot sun.
“July” is one of the poems in My Mother’s Daughter, a collection of poems I wrote between 1998-2002 and published in 2012.
All the writers I hang out with have a muse of sorts. When writers describe their muse it ranges from a distinct presence to a form of inspiration or internal guidance. Some relay a sense of communication from within and others that it is somehow greater than them and more connected to something universal.
No matter what form they take, writers agree Muses are all demanding and moody task masters.
I experience my muse as a sensation. We communicate through a link, a golden thread connected to my belly that sinks deep down until it gets to very dark waters and dangles into it. Communications come as a swell that travels through the thread and back into my gut, creating a kind of fullness that needs to be transmuted into pictures, words and feelings which then take shape on the page as characters and story. By the time they are taking shape on the page they are quite formed. I don’t consciously create and ‘make up’ the characters and dynamics. I also don’t feel that I ‘make up’ the story, rather that they are all given to me. My job is to express it and if I fail to write it, someone else will.
Having said that, I do think there is a ‘simpatico’ between my personal life themes and the stories I am given. As if by the very fact I have the resonance of those themes I call to me stories with a similar vibration and frequency, if that makes sense.
I’m a pretty amicable sort but I regularly manage to upset my muses. For something so anciently archetypal they are pretty thin skinned, or maybe just inflexible task masters. Generally this ‘falling-out’ happens when I want to take the lead in the story and say something like “no, no we aren’t going to go that way, this is much more interesting… or this is closer to genre” well they dig their heels in and the swell stops and that great idea I had sucks and the swell that feeds me is gone. Eventually I head back to that awful idea the muses’ had and start it up again and wham, in comes the swell. I feel like I’m the typewriter and they are the fingers…
I asked some writer buddies to express some of their experiences and grumbles about their muse.
So, when I started writing I didn’t realize I was getting into a relationship with this motherfucker called Muse, and I say that with affection. Well, some affection. You see my muse and I have been at war since August last year. Mother. Fucker. Just once I’d like my muse to be easy but he/she never has.
Most of the time I think of my muse as a he—there is an abruptness to him, he comes when he comes and when he wants, he stays away. There is no cajoling him, no bartering, no demanding. It’s his rules. When he does show up, he likes to express himself in visuals, like watching a movie scene with the sound off but I can feel the characters emotions—joy, lust, pain, as if I waked in their skin, living inside them. Sometimes my muse does talk, not a voice but still in visuals. I see the words, like white lines on black, just dialogue with nothing to anchor it to a scene or place in the book. All of what my muse gives me is just seconds. Flashes. Random. A spark because he really has no interest in doing the heavy lifting, getting involved in the writing. He feeds me crumbs and the writer in me tries to fill up on it. And I can’t. The truth is writing is craft and mastery; the greats have unwavering discipline and my muse … my muse is all whim. He has moved on before I can even sketch what he’s shown me. Before I finish the book. Before I even germinate the story—the crumbs in my mouth turning to ash.
When I started writing I thought my muse and I were dancing. I didn’t see that we were not courting, or the battleground we were drawing. I didn’t understand that my muse is not my lover—someone I could call with a touch of my hand or still with my company. In some ways my muse will always resist. Always be an adversary. Always be a wonderfully, wild thing.
You can find more about Nicci HERE. She writes HOT BDSM and is working on a Anne Rice type Vampire series that I gobble up when ever she shares scenes of.Follow her on Tumblr if you like to blush while checking your phone.
Cassandra L Shaw
My muse as writers call what gives them story, has lived inside my head, taking me to wild worlds all my life. A mysterious creature, she cannot be found at a whim. She has no address, no phone number, no Facebook account or email.
She’s one of those friends who float in and out of your life when it suits them. The crazy friend who is fun and wild, and a tad whimsical, a little dark inside. She’s that friend who plants a goofy smile on your face and leaves your heart fuller as they waltz out the door, leaving you wondering or in this case—writing, until they once more return.
My fey mysterious friend often arrives when I’m writing a different story, urging me to change what I’m writing. She’s the one that whispers in my ear, no don’t write that, write this.
She throws open my door and waltzes in, wafting scents and images of other worlds.
It’s the images I write from. Pictures and flashes of scenes that play in my mind – as she urges me, write this down right now.
She’s like your favourite song, dragging you back to the dance floor even though you have blisters on your feet, or need to go home—or finish the story you’re writing.
She’s the reason I have several dozen partially written stories, just to get her images out of my head, the ideas down. But after messing up my routine, showing me alternative tales I try to ignore, she leaves.
I rarely disagree with her ways, though sometimes I have to dilute her dark side. I do however consider that a little dark makes the light seem brighter.
Cassandra Shaw writes Urban Fantasy, Shifters and Time-slip Romance. I love her writers voice, its versatile and strong. You can find more about Cassandra HERE.
Cathrine Winther Poetess and dark, dark writer shared this on troublesome Muses.
This is a very personal, reflective piece about my process with my muse. It is not a generalization to how other people experience writing or their muse.
My muse is a bastard. I love him but he is a bastard. That said, I wouldn’t change a thing about him. He is what he is and he does what he does very well. He feeds my creative drive. However, he largely does it on his own terms and in his own time.
I am not someone who sits around waiting for inspiration to strike. I write when I want to write, and if I have done the hard work, inspiration and my muse usually turn up. However, I am often writing blind. I tend to have a vague idea of where I am headed but many vital details are hidden from me until the moment comes that I have to write the details of that particular scene or character. This would be fine except for the fact that I co-write a lot of my books. My co-author (Leon) places a lot of trust in me that I will pull a rabbit out of the hat at the last minute when we write. In our latest novel I had to assure Leon that the villain of our piece would be fully fleshed out and present when it came time for me to write him… even though I had no idea who he was or what he was like right up until the day came and I had to put pen to paper. But, true to form, my muse pulled through and Malick, our villain hit the page running.
However, probably my longest ongoing ‘dispute’ with my muse is power. My muse doesn’t do things by halves. He loves writing very dark, powerful, dominant males. Although I value all characters equally, for me, there is something far more intense happening when I write these edgier characters. While this is exciting it is also incredibly mentally and physically draining. I tend to compare it to the idea of sprinting for two hours instead of slow jogging for two hours. After writing one of my typically dark and dominant males for two hours I feel like I have just done a two-hour sprint. As an ex, semi-pro sprinter I can confirm that sprinting for two hours is just about impossible.
Working through this issue is an ongoing, very conscious compromise between my muse and myself. I find it all too easy to sit down and start writing and before I know it, two hours have gone by and I have spent the whole time in the headspace of a dark, dominant male. More recently I have found ways to manage this better through routine and goal setting, but it is a battle because I am fighting instinct and emotion to keep my muse in check and take care of myself and my stamina. And in short, my muse is quite wild and doesn’t want to be controlled. Part of me loves that about him, the other part of me just rolls my eyes… Just like an old married couple.
You can find more about Cat HERE. I love her pomegranate banner image, the seeds that kept Persephone in the underworld with Hades.
I am a great believer in the role of beauty to shift consciousness.
The impact of a breathtaking vista, the perfection of a fern frond as it unfolds, the prisms of light as they shine for the smallest moment through a drop of rain. Beauty acts on us like displays of the human spirt; which are profoundly moving, inspiring and highly charged. Beauty I feel, hits us as hard but deep under the surface. It’s like when you are in the presence of perfect form, when the mathematics align and the whole is at the same time so perfectly natural, something inside you aligns with it and starts to shift to that frequency.
Karin Weber writes:
Amid so many insecurities in the world today, Małgorzata Chodakowska uses the uncompromising nature of her works to arrive at a sense of a security. Her medium is wood. usually from uprooted trees. The wood grains from the tree trunks of basswood, pear. cherry and oak come alive and follow her as she removes layers of wood to reveal larger-than-life sized ﬁgures. neo-realistic nude ﬁgures. clad ﬁgures, and busts – a process whereby the wood seems to shed its skin. the wood itself appears to be turned inside out. The ﬁgures are a continuation of the growth of the trees themselves. sprouting ﬁrst from the earth and then ﬁnding themselves rooted within the artist and her dreams, expectations and demands. her self image and her personal experiences. Behind the daily passions which remain hidden for most of us. the artist reveals what really moves people. as she exposes the timeless beauty of the creation of a human being
Her works are a romantic phenomenon in our present time. a time in which countless artists reject beauty in the name of modernity and denounce it as a “bad habit”. And what a great mistake that is! After all, beauty is a most basic need for all of us. read more here
Naturally given what I write, I think love is a form of beauty and the body a form of art. In The Painted Heart and in the subsequent series of The Painted Sisters, the body as a canvas and a form of living art is explored. In The Bound Heart I touch on the dichotomy between nudity in art and in life, the grey zone of porn and eroticism. Chodakowska uses the human form often naked or clad in ‘the wet look’ to fully show form and shape. There is a deep seated sensuality that comes from nature, through the wood, and often encased in metal. Elemental as it shifts us into our own natures.
Tutt Arts writes:
Chodakowska lifts her craftsmanship in wood and bronze to the magical world of experience in which the balance between beauty and perfection delivers the most beautiful tension. Her angelic figures radiate an paradise type authority, intriguing and most irresistibly attractive. The suggestion of perfection, the challenging energy of an equally powerful as subdued seduction. Her work is obviously highly respected in nowadays top sculpture art market.
Chodakowska studied sculpture art at the Academy of Fine Arts in Warsaw (1985). She continued her study at the Art Academy in Vienna (1988). In 1991, Chodakowska completed her dissertation in Vienna (Bruno Gironkoli). She has been honored with the highly selective granted ‘Masterclass Award ☞’. Read more here.
People ask whether these were the first fashion photographs.
All writers have a muse and I think they are all hard task masters. My muses (and there are more than one and they do gang up on me!) tend to make me write things I think I shouldn’t. I tried to steer them in other directions and they marched off and refused to talk to me until I went back and wrote what I was given. When I do this, invariably the answer to why a character or a plot turn needed to be a certain way becomes apparent. I’ve now come to a point where I slide my mental head shaking aside and push forward to see where we land.
The consequence of all of that muse following is that I find myself writing in a somewhat less defined landscape of romance than I had intended. I write what would be best termed Victorian historical that has a somewhat gothic eroticism or perhaps borderline dark romanticism (I’m way to romantic and hopeful to fall fully in either category). Hopelessly Devoted 2 Books reviewed my first book, The Veiled Heart, released in July this year saying “This story is very unlike anything else on the market at the moment! Yes, it’s certainly erotic, and yes, it’s a historical romance…but it’s so much more than either of those things!”
I think it’s the Victorianism which lends itself to presenting a more troubled character and different strata’s of society. It’s a time when we really started to build the foundation of our modern society, issues back then reflect our current issues and the mass of sexuality rippling under the surface of a corseted façade is a wonderful landscape to explore the social and value constructs we still carry.
Aside from the churning society, the gothic curiosities and eroticism, The Veiled Heart is a deep, rich story of true love. I think it’s a very romantic read. I have a snippet below to give you a feel for it. Also if you’re interested in staying in touch about my next release called The Bound Heart, a book about the unravelling of a Victorian bookbinder come shibari rope master, sign up for my newsletter below.
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Snippet from the beginning of The Veiled Heart
Miriam couldn’t say how long it was before he lifted from her and tapped his cane on the cab roof.
She should move but she couldn’t even open her eyes; and really, how could anyone expect her to? The cab must be full of feathers. She’d clawed up angel wings in that white cloud of bliss and she was still floating back down to the bench. Back to a life that would now look entirely different.
Gentle hands worked to straighten her skirts. There was no impetus to move. The firm but gentle administrations, adjusting her skirt, stroking her arm, small murmurs, were melting her on the inside with the soft kindness of it all. Even out of courtesy. She wanted to say something, give something back.
“Thank you; that was most enlightening.” Heat immediately rushed up her face at the absurd whisper.
Idiot; she was keeping her eyes closed, perhaps for the rest of her life.
The video is called advice to the young, but if you are in anyway creatively driven it’s a good listen.
Marina, says something that I’ve heard for writing as well. She says about performance art: “do what scares you.” As a writer we often hear “write what scares you”. I don’t think many peolpe would expect that to apply to romance as a genre but it does.
I don’t think I have really chosen anything yet that presses a lot of my buttons but I feel myself working towards that. Yet things still challange me as I write. I find that writing the conflict in the story can involve a lot of getting up and walking around and forcing myself back behind the keys and forging through the tension and getting it on the page. I can be known to leave a conflict and start a new story in the misplaced hope the tension will ease… it doesn’t, lol.
To write you are connected to your characters, and in a way you channel and translate their experiences into words. The biggest faux par as a writer is to under cut the depth of the character’s experience because it is too uncomfortable to wade through it with them as their biographer.
Thematically, I am attracted to stories and characters that reflect emotional and personal courage and exploring the release of old wounds through acts of deep intimacy. They are areas we can easily talk about academically and nod our heads at their importance when living a meaningful life. However, it would be interesting to see on reflection if that is how we have actually lived our life. We are not given many opportunities to demonstrate emotional courage and to undertake and embrace acts of deep intimacy. In reality we may only ever have a few occasions in our life that demand we step up right then and there and be in the moment with courage and vulnerability.
I find both of these areas very challenging. And have fail more than once. I have also succeeded.
I admire my characters willingness to undertake those acts. What it means that I write them I am not sure…..
I have this song on repeat. A bit of a little Red Riding Hood feel ….
Don’t let me in with no intention to keep me
Jesus Christ! Don’t be kind to me.
Honey don’t feed me – I will come back.
Photographic Artist using irony to make motivate and change stereo types. Great TED talk. You can fine a series more information about her and her fairy-tale images here
I find her freedom of spirit and creative expression very motivating and stimulating for my own creative process.
STATEMENT from Uldus
Every shot I take is influenced by something, and each photo tells a story. I reference things that are special to me. Whether it is an old film, a song, a painting, or a poem. It’s all about telling a story. I am constantly inspired and my way of expressing this is by taking photos, it’s my way of sharing my experiences. There are way too many bland, cold, boring fashion and lifestyle photos out there. My photos try to express something deeper then today’s average trendy photo formula. I make it a point to get away from that. I want to be learning something or feeling something when I’m looking at a photo – so I try to create the same experience with my photography. With my art. With my Life! I am deeply inspired with Pre-Raphaelites , poetry of XIX Century, with paganism and Russ Land fairy tales, at the same time i am very passionate about modernity, media, i love super heroes, especially Iron Man, i love German language and colored hairs on girls. So, all these little and big things come to me and get to you from me through my art photography! Generally my statement isto be free and flow with emotions. I am gaining to bring beauty and positive emotions to people! I live for that! STAY HIGH!
Another wonderful Russian Photographer. Kareva Margo. Along with the traditional areas of photographic work (wedding, portraits and commercial etc), she has a passion for bringing fantasy and fairytale to life. Images of princesses and witches with shamanic symbolism and rich colours draw you into the images and set your imagination wandering. Many of her photos contain animals and express a connection with them, a communion or shared nature.
When I saw her work, it had the feel of the images I am getting for some new storys I am panning for 2016. A moodiness that has the feel of the other world, of deeper layers and meaning. A sense that we are connected with a world past the veil of ordinary sight and sometimes that veil lifts….
Here is a link to Margo’s work. http://kareva-margo.ru/#portfolio
My name is Margarita Karev.
I live in Ekaterniburge (Russia)
The main directions of my business:
• The organization and carrying out of photos abroad
• Individual staged photo shoots
• Wedding photography
• Art projects
• advertising photography
I work with a great team of professionals (stylists and designers) who help me to realize any of your fantasies to life 🙂
This is one of my favorite tango pieces. I love to play tango music late at night, preferably a glass or three of wine already consumed. For me the tango belongs in the night, there is something about the dark that enhance it’s character. Yo-yo Ma’s album Soul of the Tango is wonderful.
Giant bubbles on the beach, beautiful <3
This is just wonderful to watch. I guess it is the unfolding and evolution on what we saw was beauty.. as well as the evolution of art as the vehicle for that expression.
I just have to share this amazing human being. The wonderful world-wide-web bumped me into the work of Ray Collins, Photographer. Incredibly beautiful photography of the sea. Interestingly he is colour blind and said that it has most likely made him more aware of shape, movement and light. You can see that in his work, the architectural forms that are reminiscent of Henry Moore. The shades of light we might see in glass blowing. Nice video below introducing him and his work.
Henri Rousseau’s paintings animated. Just beautiful!!
The official Video of Son Lux song “Easy”
Sharing a wonderful video via Nicolette Hugo.. puts me in mind of Jamie…the bookbinder in The Bound Heart.
“Some beautiful suspension bondage…poetry in motion” Nicolette Hugo
I have a love of art where we can feel the humanity of the artist, their expression of self in the world around them, their spirit. I feel that Daniel’s work has those qualities. Each piece draws me in and shows me clues to a dialog, almost like I am a voyeur in his inner landscape. For me, his work dances between the logical, digital expression of words and concrete thoughts and the analogical of feelings and currents moving underneath the surface. As the viewer I have a puzzle of pieces that tug at the mind and the heart simultaneously to solve it.
As I sink into a piece and start drawing out a story, it is almost more a reflection of me in a way. What I see and what I think it means. I could ask Dan and find out what he was expressing was something quite different but I know that he would think my journey with his art equally valid.
I think once a piece of art is created and set into the world, much like a child steps into the world, the art starts to create a life of its own. A relationship with their viewer that can be quite unique from the one it has with the artist who created it.
This piece intrigued my hungry romance writer’s mind. Even now my eyes rove over it looking for clues, did he leave? Was there someone else? Was it for money … a job? Are we at the cross roads right now deciding to turn that corner, to take that path or not?
I have nothing to say, I have nothing to say is a heart beat all over the background, it tells us so much actually needs to be said. It reminds me of being in that moment, at the irreversible cross road of the heart….
WOW… That’s just one!! Each has a journey you sink into.
Here is a sample for Daniel’s latest 2 Collage series
Elsa: What is Art Beats about?
Dan: Art Beats is where art imitates life and is seen as a direct extension of bodily functions and diverse human feelings, an essential component/organ of our existence, hence the analogy between Art and Heart.
Elsa: How about Dan around the world ?
Dan: Dan around the World, are pictures that I have taken on some of my trips which are integrated in a mix media collage. Together they form association of random words and sentences juxtaposed together in meaning to create & represent capsules of my traveler’s imagination
Elsa: What are some of your favorite materials:
Dan: My favorite media is varied at the moment: brown paper, newspaper, pages of books, prints of all kinds, written words found on the street, torn posters + my own pics + acrylics, gold leaf, varnish, sprays, inks, glue
Dan around the World
You can find Dan’s earlier work Variations + Portraits, here: http://www.neoimages.net/artistportfolio.aspx?pid=1582
He is also on Instagram at danlefrt
Art by Dan ( exhibition introduction)
Daniel Lefort’s eclectic works of paper and acrylic tones come together with the sleekness of a blade, the wisp of a brush and sometimes even the crackling of Styrofoam! His technique of layering color and textile gives a unique depth to his pieces. Originally from France, Lefort now resides in Quebec, where he has spent the last twenty years cultivating his unique brand of talent. His premier collection depicting abstract and figurative themes on post cards later became available for purchase. This series of invented portraits integrates vibrant colors, cut-outs, script and sporadic bits of green. A summon to create led this self-inspired artist to discover and delve into new forms. An artist of varied genre, Lefort uses, in a parallel fashion, two styles. His abstract pieces integrate both paper and script under a display of detailed color. Sensitive to the creative approach of de Stael, Rothko, and Féron, Daniel Lefort’s paintings are full abstraction in naïve figuration. Their contours reinforce this impression. However, his forte doesn’t stop there. It pursues intricate simplicity found within the processing of the patterns.
Beatrice Wood lived until she was 105 and was an active potter through her 90’s. When asked what her secret was she said “I owe it all to art books, chocolate and young men.” Those things which inspires us and make us happy.
I find her attitude and creative spirit an inspiration. Being who you are and following your passions are fundamental to being ‘here’, present in life as well as living a meaningful and happy life. That doesn’t mean you have to be an artist or do something extra ordinary, I think it means if you want to sit on the front deck with a coffee, feel the sun on your feet and watch people walk by…do it. Of course we live together as communities so play nice goes without saying, the key is finding your place in a way that expresses you. It could be as simple as your open authentic presence.
I have a thing about centenarians and really want to be one as well. The few interviews I have seen have shown people who are at peace with themselves and who they are. I think that is one of the most challenging and rewarding things to achieve.
I’ve reblogged this from Nicolette Hugo: Nicolette Hugo’s site
Whenever we make love, you say
it’s like fucking a crash –
I bring the bus with me into the bedroom.
There’s a lull, like before the fire brigade
arrives, flames licking the soles
of our feet. Neither of us knows
when the petrol tank will explode.
You say I’ve decorated my house
to recreate the accident –
my skeleton wired with fireworks,
my menagerie flinging air about.
You look at me in my gold underwear –
a crone of sixteen, who lost
her virginity to a lightning bolt.
I didn’t expect love to feel like this –
you holding me down with your knee,
wrenching the steel rod from my charred body
quickly, kindly, setting me free.
- Frida Kahlo
“A photograph is not created by a photographer. What they do(es) is just to open a little window and capture it. The world then writes itself on the film. The act of the photographer is closer to reading than it is to writing. They are the readers of the world. ”
I love shadows. I came to really appreciate them living in Japan where light and shadow was a strong part of their aesthetic. This small series of lace shadows I find very beautiful and remind me of Lily’s veils in Lily and the Mechanic. The mood a bit as well. My mind always wanders when I see something that attracts me. This imprinting of shadow… something that’s there and not there reminds me of memories. They can fall over you like shadows as the day passes.
You can find him here: