08 April 2011

Music when soft voices die...doodles, date-unknown.

MUSIC, when soft voices die, 
Vibrates in the memory; 
Odours, when sweet violets sicken, 
Live within the sense they quicken. 
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,         
Are heap'd for the belov├Ęd's bed; 
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, 
Love itself shall slumber on.

Percy Bysshe Shelley. 1792–1822

06 April 2011

Drawing, pen and ink and prismacolor, 2003.

"I will be
In the bar
With my head
On the bar
I am now
A central part
Of your mind's landscape
Whether you care
Or do not
Yeah, I've made up your mind" 
The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get by Morrissey