On living at the end of the world
Early morning, spring sky. Back again, 10 floors up, I’m on my sofa in the rawness of my shabby, undecorated space, in the silent energy of my plants…
On revolution, resistance and holotropica.
It’s year-end 23, and I’m struggling to articulate myself. I’ve missed all my deadlines this last month, but not through slackery or procrastination.
On Bodywork ( and the current revolutionary quality of time )
I enrolled in my first massage class in 2001, naively reasoning that it would eventually provide a steady part-time income whilst I pursued making the art…
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