~   Italo Calvino, The adventure of a traveler

I write to try to discover their story. Two sisters, framed in my mind, without a narrative. Fiction fails to be as evocative as the image.  I sift through the layers of ambiguity and uncover faint memories of young sisterhood. I see myself grasping for their meaning.

Excerpt from Charles Lamb, Dream Children: A Reverie

when suddenly, turning to Alice, the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a reality of re-presentment, that I became in doubt which of them stood there before me, or whose that bright hair was; and while I stood gazing, both the children gradually grew fainter to my view, receding, and still receding till nothing at last but two mournful features were seen in the uttermost distance, which, without speech, strangely impressed upon me the effects of speech: “We are not of Alice, nor of thee, nor are we children at all. The children of Alice call Bartrum father. We are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name”

Tallinn Day Trip

When I finally close my eyes, the images of my architecture are burned in my mind. As layers are superimposed and revealed, my past experiences coalesce into a new sensory and emotional response.



Images of the Dry Dock reveal the duality existing within the site.

According to the weather forecast, tomorrow will be sunny. Should be another great day in Finland.

Excerpt from Michel de Montaigne, That We Laugh and Cry for the Same Thing.

Thence it is, that we see not only children, who innocently obey and follow nature, often laugh and cry at the same thing, but not one of us can boast, what journey soever he may have in hand that he has the most set his heart upon, but when he comes to part with his family and friends, he will find something that troubles him within; and though he refrain his tears yet he puts foot in the stirrup with a sad and cloudy countenance.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


After deciding to do a lottery for the 150M bungee jump off of a crane, a few of us decided to predict the reaction of a future selected participant. If the chosen one was Stephanie Wilds, she would have an instant feeling of regret of ever agreeing to participate, which would be quickly followed…

Walking into Paja today, a cyclist passed. Rather than grasping the handlebars, his hands were saying the rosary. Finland never ceases to amaze me.

Canvas  by  andbamnan