… just as language limits what can be said, architecture limits where one can walk, but the walker invents other ways to go.

… it is how we learn to speak about something that is disappearing as we say its name

…the wind on the sea bore a strange melody of an island that sings

…A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.

… it was strange and secret, full of unknown things, magic things perhaps

…Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people

… at no point is art static. There are no rules

… God, it was hot! Forget about frying an egg on the sidewalk

… of howlings and shriekings, groanings and scuttlings and the clanking of chains, of hooded monks and headless horseman, swirling mists and sudden winds

… thoughtful street art is like good fiction

… we shape our buildings, thereafter they shape us

… the sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.

… find the ordinary objects so you can transform it by photographing it

… as soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was about to happen

… I loved watching the rusting of the leaves while the dales mellowed to shades of ochre

… none of your knowledge, your reading, your connections will be of any use here: two legs suffice, and big eyes to see with

… the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries

… all photographs are memento mori