I believe – I am persuaded – that the unreal cannot be created without pushing up against reality.
“What hast thou, O my soul, with paradise? Will we not rather, when our freedom’s won, Get us to some clear place wherein the sun Lets drift in on us through the olive leaves A liquid glory?”
Ezra Pound | “Blandula, Tenulla, Vagula”
INSTAGRAM
BANDCAMP
YOUTUBE