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Poem: Waiting

The song I came to sing  remains unsung to this day.  I have spent my days in stringing  and in unstringing my instrument.  The time has not come true,  the words have not been rightly set;  only there is the agony  of wishing in my heart…..  I have not seen his face,  nor have I listened to his voice;  only I have heard his gentle footsteps  from the road before my house…..  But the lamp has not...

Dec 10th

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A fashion designer on art

“When you look at art, it’s perhaps an unconscious criticism of the world we’re living in, comparing a world that doesn’t exist with ours. Great art is always about asking yourself if things could be better.” — Vivienne Westwood

Dec 3rd

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