subtlety

depression is a funny thing really. you never really know that it’s there. it’s this sensation that barely creeps up on you; it ghosts upon your skin, your thoughts, your consciousness…

a little bit of inspiration

someone’s dining room, some time between midnight and dawn. the room has a leftist, affluent feel. opens to an area lit dimly by a single bulb. Clarissa is sat at the dining table, typing away. a pen drops. Clarissa pauses; the pen has dropped too far below; noises associated with stretching after long periods of inactivity…

“I love my love.”

(image credits to Tiny Buddha) just when I thought I’d lost my love for choral music and choral works, this lovely piece came along into my life, and refuses to leave. it’s stuck in my head and I can’t wait to sing it in June with the alumni. give it a listen. it’s so tragically…