Rotate
Clack!
Rotate
Crack!

Rotate
Shhhzzck!
Rotate
Click.

Rotate
Ow!
Rotate
Wow!

Rotate
Rotate

Snap-
Out.

I rarely look at the night sky
Because one glance
And I would give you another chance

Is a breath,
Stuffed with coffee grind
Thirsting for milk
And never to suckle.

Is a thought,
A dream quickly awoken from;
And lost in the tenor of real,
Sighs from life

Is a light,
A shaft of gold
worth all the stars
And yet empty

Is a place,
With silent waves and screaming winds--
The ears, pierced with calculated air

Is a God,
Is a moment,
Is a place,
Is a thought,
Is a breath,

Is a time to give thanks to winter
And dance in the snow.

Is a time to kiss the trees and hug their leaves
And laugh
When their cackled, dehydrated ossicles
Ground to dust in our arms

Is a time to worship the sun between the planes of stone
And calculate the equinox online
With electrons and info

With a careful rasp
The next turn of the marble
Grates against the curve
And the Mancala track keeps what it has sown.

Come,
Wintre's blaze.
Burn my inferno dear,

Sweet, Sweet release,
From Summer's peace.

Firestorm follow my tendency,
To recluse, unwholly,
And leave myself behind.

Wither, wintre's faces beckon,
My heartfelt sorrow's near.

Tis' the season,
To hold my sanity,
Dear.

Simplicity & complexity are a powerful combination.

Minimalism is discipline, the aesthetic is often pure and sensual; 'a simple joy’.
It strips the superfluous down to its essentials; it enables the viewer to contemplate the gaps and see the magic through simple repetition and gradual variation.

There is more room in our future when there’s less in it.

It's a setting for subtle syncopation, a place to break free from convention, a setting where aesthetic simplicity and abstract thought can combine to facilitate change, a space where human beings can create a tangible difference with very simple things; magical things.

By Pig-Man

There’s a universe inside of you,
But I’m just a little star.
Once my light is out,
There'll be none of me.

love is driving so fast, stopping feels going backwards
down the interstate up the other side of a town our parents warned us about
love is counting days and losing track of nights because this is all i know
love is cutting up your favorite t shirt because sometimes the extra weight on your shoulders is just too much
love is the song on the album you never gave a chance because it just rubbed you the wrong way
love is saying that this time will be better
love is watching a receipt get stepped on and over but not putting it out of its misery because it is not your job
love is why
not how or when or who
love is why