A memory of a garden in late spring with the iPhone

It is what it is: an imaginary landscape with a foreground of dead flowers...

Liverpool in B & W

A London Common in late autumn: Wynn Common, South East London, Plumstead

I imagined my death this morning: In a car crash or by a bullet. I felt sorry for myself. I cried over my corpse for a while. Soon after I started talking of cows, of the government, of how expensive life is nowadays, And I felt better, a little bit good. I meant to tell you that I am really ill. As if without skin, hurt by the air around, wounded by the sun, by words, by dreams. An annoying devil has climbed on the back of my head and doesn't leve me alone. Ulcerous, rotten, I have to live crawling, on all fours, slowly, any way I can. [Jaime Sabines (1926-1999)]

"Ariadne, I'm coming out I just need to work this maze inside my head I came to like you as I killed the beast inside my heart That part of me is dead..." From 'The Labyrinth Song' by Asaf Avidan

Vising Smithfield Market at the weekend, I came across this wonderful church: the Priory Church of St. Bartholomew, founded in AD 1123. as part of a monastery of Augustinian Canons. Bartholomew was one of the Twelve Apostles, brought to Jesus by Saint Philip. He is reputed to have brought Christianity to Armenia where tradition states that he was later flayed alive and crucified head down.

Continuing with some expressions of the Guggenheim's exterior architecture