Here’s to a year of a whole lot of nothing.
Fontainebleau, December 2013
Sickness and nostalgia
I could not have known
This insidious gas, perfumed in violet and sable
True and pure as only my mind could have conceived
But remarkably beautiful nonetheless
Deauville, December 2012
The beginning before the beginning. Slow, unassuming, and palpably trepidatious. If only I’d known then all that would arrive. Could I have possibly prepared myself?
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