Tuesday 29 March 2011

TS Eliot. The Wasteland.


April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

Just a few from my journeying, which got me thinking of Utopia and Distopia. Amongst kids on bikes I found pink blossom and pink paint on the floor. And the ramshackle abandoned shop you see, that's been there since I can remember. I like it because it's dusty, full of amateur paintings and gives the illusion of being eternal.

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