INTROSPECTIONS

Dreams rarely sojourn in the chambers of our coherent mind.
They disintegrate and fall gently back like
​ashes over the fields ​of unconsciousness.
​In certain hope we find them reborn upon our next visit.

”The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination.”
H.P. Lovecraft

Echoes of a distant past smothered by cold and unrelenting winds.
This foreboding moment made me recall the old ledgers of
memory and the words of John Bunyan.

”Farewell, I wish our souls may meet with comfort at the journey's end.”

TERMINUS

”Gone are the spring's green sprouting bowers, gone summer's rich and mantling vines,
and autumn, with her yellow hours, on hill and plain no longer shines.”
John Brainard