I’m a bit of a Hobbit. I like to see things grow, little by little. I like routines (and escaping them: but I find them comfy). I like it when I run out of something and I buy exactly the same one again, I get the impression that I was right the first one. My favourite goodbye is “see you tomorrow.”
I’m an artist first and foremost. But people just want to hear about how I make money. It puzzles me, because don’t make that much. I just save beautiful things. Yet above the frustration of bringing something up and out and not seeing it shine like it did on my mind, I’m thankful. My mind
Un beso como el primer pie en la arena Un beso como el asiento de atrás, tras la playa Un beso como la cinta de casette que se ha derretido Un beso como un semáforo bajo el sol hace treinta años Un beso como robar una patata frita de la cocina Un beso como tus
We’re editing together, head to head. It’s a bio, a blurb, maybe something in between. He’s Neil Gaiman, (I know Amanda is behind me, reading something else) and he’s mumbling a bit, as he re-reads the text: words flow until they get stuck. I take it from the place he left off. —I think that what it
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