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Between two Incandescent Breaths

let my pictures help to tell the stories within

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Tagore


Death belongs to life as birth does. The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down
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Posted by master of spices at 11:17 PM

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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2009 (26)
    • ▼  August (26)
      • Girl Interrupted
      • ...my god died young...
      • clockwork orange
      • Red Oxide
      • Windows
      • afternoon
      • Enter ye..
      • Mere Actor
      • Bela
      • Simply
      • My Bed Spread
      • Tomorrow
      • Hidden
      • Bridge
      • KOLKATA: kollolini tilottama hobe
      • Dry Red Chillies 2
      • Dry Red Chillies 1
      • Faces
      • from my window
      • haiku
      • Tagore
      • cherries
      • The Morning
      • Love
      • Silence
      • From the woman with breasts
  • ►  2007 (27)
    • ►  May (5)
    • ►  April (22)

About Me

master of spices
i am a young man of half-past forty and one.My freinds say i am not unattractive, though to be kind and true is what i have always striven. I have black hair, black eyes, a sensitive mouth and a winning natural exuberance. And at the waist a barely noticeable protuberance. I am open minded about beverages so long as they are grape, brandy or malt. And i am genorous to practically any fault. Not to beat around the bush, there are a few who think i am pretty nice
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