Curious, that what begat my happiest epoch to date was the bloody, shredding removal of a Cupid’s dart. Or, no— it was the eventual and, sad, timely falling of Damocles’ sword. At any rate, it was something dramatic and mythic, as such things are wont to be; must be, because we’re human, and we love*.… Continue reading Being stardust is dancing with gratitude— that’s what discoballs are about, and this is a love note to everything in dour Winter
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 