The Fog.

Clara Rockmore.

J.

J and I are doing a project together. Its almost involving an unsacred church! So, I went to her place yesterday to discuss the things that needed discussing. We were in good company. M  was there, the lost then returned son of a cat, normally a loose canon, now, snooring on his back. And little guy L, sleepless, absorbed by the saddest lion he’d ever seen.

After closingtime at the fair.

From my Hitchhikerseries.

I dont remember his name. He had been living on the rocky beach for a long time. He had his tent and all his belongings with him and he was smoking an unlit joint soaked in Grand Marnier.

I love this film. Werckmeister Harmonies directed by Béla Tarr.