Note on the Power of the eye.

I rise early these days. Call it growing old.

Kitchen clock is ticking. The deep yellows and reds and evergreens of the landscape outside is barely visible through the morning fog. I sip my coffee. A grown man learning new things. Currently enjoying shutting the fuck up and listening to time vaning and the quiet russling and grunts of feral pigs eating apples under the trees in front of the 508.

The Dark Island is a lonely place. Especially so in the season of dying that is northern hemisphere October. That is exactly why I make a point of not leaving this place if I don’t have a specific reason. Also why I don’t really like people to come all the way out here unless THEY have a specific, preferably pre-stated, reason for visiting.

Herr K Janowski can come whenever he likes. His eyes are reason enough.

He arrives at this sanctuary like a talkative gust of wind, have us running around the premises like a pack of schoolboys and leaves two frantic hours later with 96 of the best shots we’ve ever done.

I am painfully aware that we don’t ourselves have the capacity to invent and produce representations of what we are, accurate enough to make the Plan comunicable. Being a megalomaniac and a control freak, this is perhaps my greatest disappointment. The only way to ease that pain is to work with gifted people like Janowski. Moja miłość.






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Vocalist, lyricist, frontman of Septekh

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