
…..they want my soul.
Why don’t you just reach in and rip my heart out and eat it in front of me.
The visionary world of Nicholas Beckett

…..they want my soul.
Why don’t you just reach in and rip my heart out and eat it in front of me.

…while I lay down a 7/11 beat.
Said the Moondog to Treebeard.

…..saved me nothing
…has no reason to sing.



….to ruin your Sunday.











…..as I agreed to enter a book binding thing of binding a text block based on a letter by Nicolas Baudin disputing Captain Cook’s findings of Terra Nullius.
I’m trying some things out as I’ve made my own cords that I want visible on the inside of the book, and parts of the outside. Not sure how I feel about them on the outside yet. Glad I’ve done a dummy run.


Not sure how I feel about the raised thread on the image.
But the shirt HERE

….the king.

…..floating feeling.