swipe down to begin.
I find objects.
Often items cast aside by others, detritus of our species.
I don’t find them as such, I see them as being found, as if they were lost, 
waiting patiently for me to upon them.

I think of them from another place, born for another reason,
re-imagining reality.
Sometimes they are dressed with a story, or left naked of words,
but kept warm under a new light.
Mark Lawson Bell 

Tales From Broken Plates.


Since Some Time.


Umbrella of Night.

If At First